Out of the Depths Part 2

Warrick flipped through Nick's latest copy of Forensic Science Review, balancing it easily on his leg with one hand. Nick had shown signs of several more nightmares since falling asleep, but thus far Warrick had been able to soothe them away before they got too intense without actually waking Nick.

When a knock sounded at Nick's door, Warrick considered ignoring it, but it soon became obvious the knocker was not going to give up. When the door knob rattled then turned, Warrick carefully disengaged his hand from Nick's and left the bedroom. Catherine was just coming in the door.

"Hey," he said in a low voice, waving her over to the bedroom door so he could keep an eye on Nick.

"Hey," Catherine spoke quietly as well. She peeked in at Nick. "How is he?"

"Quiet now--more or less." Warrick wiped his face as the last two hours finally impacted. "It was...scary."

Catherine's eyes widened at the admission. "That bad?"

"So bad." Warrick shook his head, "He found out about the feed."

"He didn't know?"

"It was a really bad wake-up call," Warrick leaned heavily against the door frame. "He had practically convinced himself it never happened."

Catherine winced, "Well, that does explain a lot."

"Gris called you?"

"He said you were staying here with Nick again, so I thought I'd see if you needed anything."

Warrick glanced in at Nick again. "I'm not sure what kind of shape he'll be in now, but yeah, I was going to get some stuff from my place."

"I'll stay with Nick while you do."

"Okay, thanks. I'll just go tell him."

Catherine caught his arm. "He's sleeping, Warrick. You're going to wake him up just for that?"

Warrick hesitated, then said, "Look, I told him I wasn't leaving, okay? I don't really want him waking up and finding I'm not there."

For a moment Catherine looked as though she wanted to tell him he was ridiculous, but then her expression softened. "You're not taking any chances, are you?"

"None."

Catherine nodded, then released his arm and followed him into the bedroom.

Warrick sat on the edge of the bed and shook Nick slightly. "Hey, Nick...Nicky."

For all Warrick's gentleness, Nick still startled awake with a frightened cry.

"Easy, Nick," Warrick rubbed his arm. "Sorry to wake you, but I'm gonna be gone for a bit. Gotta go back to my place to grab a few things so I can stay here for a while."

"You don't have to babysit me," Nick's voice was weak and hoarse.

"Save it, buddy," Warrick cut off any other protests. "Cath is going to stay with you, okay?"

"Thanks, Rick," Nick's voice wavered.

"Okay." Warrick relinquished his spot to Catherine.

"Hiya, Nicky."

Warrick listened to the murmur of voices from the living room for a moment before heading out. Once at his apartment, he threw everything he'd need for at least a few days into a bag and closed his place up again.

The entire trip took just over half an hour, and when Warrick got back, Nick had fallen asleep again. He left his bag by the sofa and met Catherine at the bedroom door. "It's like those first few days at the hospital all over again," she whispered.

"I know."

"He went back to sleep before long. I told him you'd be back when he woke up." She chewed her lip hesitantly, "He seems really dependant on you, Warrick."

"That's okay," Warrick said. "I'm here for him."

"Grissom didn't make you follow through on your visit to Dr. Kane, did he?" The blue eyes had narrowed slightly.

"No," Warrick said simply before going into the bedroom. He heard Catherine sigh, but when looked back at the door, she was gone. Noting that Nick was sleeping peacefully, Warrick sat down and picked up the magazine again.

Halfway through an article on new spatter analysis techniques, a steaming cup of coffee was held under his nose. Catherine smiled when he looked up in surprise, "I made a fresh pot for you. I'm gonna head home now. There's some soup in the kitchen that you just have to nuke for a few minutes, so make sure Nick has some at some point--and don't you forget to eat, either."

"Scout's honor," Warrick promised, taking the mug gratefully.

"You were never a Boy Scout, Warrick," Catherine smiled. "I'll be by tomorrow, okay? Take care."

"Okay. Thanks, Cath."

After another concerned look, Catherine took her leave.

Nick slept another four hours before waking in the midst of a nightmare. It took several minutes for him to calm down and when he had, he threw back his covers and got up.

"Hey, where you goin'?" Warrick stood up as well.

"Living room," Nick said, wincing at the sound of his abused voice.

"Are you sure you should?"

"Warrick, I'm okay." Nick noted his friend's expression. "Well, not okay okay, but I didn't suddenly become an invalid, either."

Warrick nodded his understanding. "I don't know if the coffee is still any good..."

"No, I don't want any coffee," Nick wandered into the kitchen. "I don't like drinking coffee much any more."

"You've had coffee every day," Warrick frowned.

"Well, yeah..." Nick poured himself a big glass of orange juice. "I mean, I drank coffee before, so I figured--" The glass in his hand started to shake and Nick quickly set it on the counter. "It seems I only like cold drinks right now. The steam can make me feel like I can't breathe..."

"Then why drink--" Warrick sighed. "What's your rush, Nick? Your job will be there no matter how long it takes."

"Six weeks..."

"Six weeks was the earliest you could be back at work. But Jesus, Nick, no one expected you to be back by then."

"No, that would be way too much to expect from the guy freaking in the box," Nick began to choke up.

"Don't go there, Nick. That's not true. I don't know why you think you've got something to be ashamed of because of what we saw, but you don't."

"I don't want to talk about--"

"What we saw on that feed--"

Nick tried to push past Warrick, but was blocked.

"No, Nick, I think you have to hear this. There's nothing on there for you to be embarrassed by. I'm not going to kid you that it was easy to watch--it hurt like hell to see. And I know that however bad it was--look at me, Nick," Warrick kept ducking down in an attempt to catch Nick's eye. "However bad it was for us, it was a hundred times worse for you." He took a deep breath, still not sure he was doing the right thing by making Nick hear this now, "Nick, I saw when you shot out the light."

"Okay, enough," Nick whispered, his eyes firmly fastened on the floor.

"I'm not done. When I saw you put the gum in your ears, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what you were doing. And when you picked up your gun, I forgot all about the gum because I thought you were going to finish everything..." Warrick voice wavered slightly at the memory.

That made Nick look up. "I'm sorry."

Warrick cleared his throat and shook his head firmly, "That's not the point. The point is that I had no idea what the gum was for all that day and for a few days after, even though it's so damn obvious. I was safe and I couldn't even think straight enough to follow. That you shot that light out was cool, but that you were together enough to still protect your ears was goddamn beautiful. And Sara said when the ants--"

Nick dropped his gaze to the floor again. "No more. Please, Warrick."

"Okay," Warrick lifted Nick's head to make their eyes meet. "No more, but you've got to hear this. You did good, Nicky. You've got nothing to prove to anybody--you proved everything when you were inside that damn box."

Fresh tears filled the dark eyes, then spilled over when Nick shook his head violently. "Y-you don't know...I was--I was so scared..."

"Christ, of course you were," Warrick rubbed Nick's upper arms, hoping to allay some of the shivering.

"Of everything!" Nick choked, despite his desperate attempt to control his tears. "Of dying. Of living w-with brain damage. Of running out of air and s-suffocating. Of not running out of air and starving. Of the box cracking and being cr-crushed. Of having t-to feel the ants pick m-me apart bit by b-bit. Of dying alone and n-never being f-found. Of wh-whoever it was coming back and doing s-something worse..." Nick lost the battle with his sobs and blindly stepped toward Warrick for solace.

Warrick immediately enveloped him in a strong embrace, "Every one of those things makes perfect sense, Nicky," he soothed. Warrick kept up a mindless litany of comforting words and sounds, while he waged a silent battle inside himself. Although Nick was crying and shaking, it was still Nick he had in his arms and that felt wonderful, but the moment that thought occurred to him, Warrick hated himself for deriving any sort of pleasure from Nick's obvious anguish.

It was a good fifteen minutes before Nick shifted away, even though his sobs had stopped some time before that. "Sorry," he muttered, wiping his eyes.

"Look, I know you aren't exactly together," Warrick's own voice was none too steady. "But if you keep apologizing, I'm gonna have to pop you one."

That got a watery chuckle before Nick picked up the glass of orange juice again--with both hands--and downed more that half of it in one go. Then he got the pitcher and refilled it.

"So what are you going to do now?" Warrick asked, resisting the urge to pour Nick's juice for him. "Gonna get some more sleep?"

"No. I was...I've got one more DVD in that Audubon set. I was gonna watch that." Nick grabbed a paper towel to do a better job of drying his eyes.

"Okay. You want something to eat?"

Nick considered, then shook his head. He watched Warrick pour himself another cup of coffee, then moved into the living room to find the DVD.

Warrick settled himself on the sofa, and considered catching a little shut-eye himself while Nick was watching god-knew-what-kind-of-birds this time. At least its not as bad as that extra twangy country shit he listens to when he thinks no one else can hear. That had been one of the minor surprises Warrick had encountered while spending so much time with Nick. While his music collection looked like the average MOR, reasonably hip assortment of CDs, Nick also loved old school, one-step-beyond-country-and-western country and western music--he just rarely played it around his co-workers to avoid teasing.

As for the Audubon DVD, Warrick didn't have to watch it for very long. After about twenty minutes, Nick was sound asleep, so Warrick switched to ESPN.

Nick was usually quite intense after one of his sessions with Dr. Kane, but today he had lost the battle with his tears and was shaking so badly that Warrick had to fasten his seat belt for him. Warrick wasn't especially surprised by Nick's state, considering that the past 15 hours had been much tougher than usual. For both of them, if Warrick was going to be completely honest about it.

Grissom stopped in after his shift, as promised. Warrick had neglected to mention it to Nick for fear he would conveniently be asleep when their boss arrived--he still wasn't sure that had been the right thing to do, though. The conversation was as uncomfortable as ever on Gil's part but had moved into excruciating on Nick's. Warrick had been tempted to press the issue of the feed, but he thought Nick had been pushed more than enough and he wasn't even sure it was his place to do it.

As a result of that early morning visit, Nick had already been rattled when Warrick dropped him off in front of Dr. Kane's building. So much so that Warrick didn't find somewhere else to pass the time but waited in the parking lot just in case Nick decided to cut his session short.

Nick did stay the entire time, but the effort was obvious.

"Ready?"

Nick leaned back wearily in his seat. "Yeah, let's go," he managed.

"Bad one, huh?" asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Depends on who you ask, I guess." Nick sniffled a bit and swiped at his eyes. "I don't know how he understood a thing I was saying when I was bawling so hard. And then at the end, he says we're finally making progress."

Warrick bit back a grin at the indignation that was so apparent despite the catches in Nick's voice.

Eyes closed, Nick was quiet for the rest of the ride while Warrick concentrated on his driving and let Nick digest whatever had happened. They rode in surprisingly comfortable silence until they approached Nick's house and Warrick saw a C-Class parked on the street in front of it. "What the hell?"

Nick opened his eyes. "What?" He followed Warrick's gaze.

Then the driver got out and both men groaned in unison. "Ecklie."

Nick's scrubbed at his face. "Wonder what he wants."

"If you don't feel up to it, I can tell him to come back some other time," Warrick didn't need to add that he would enjoy doing it, too.

"No, better not," Nick got out of the truck.

"Warrick, Nick," Conrad said with the grimace that passed for a smile with him.

"Hey, Conrad," Nick said while Warrick merely nodded.

"I need to talk to you, Nick, if you don't mind."

Warrick wanted to answer, but Nick merely nodded and gestured for Ecklie to come inside with them. Nick immediately took his place on the sofa, but Warrick remained standing.

So did Ecklie. "How, er, how are you doing, Nick?"

"I don't know," Nick replied.

His honesty seemed to throw Ecklie off momentarily. "I'm sorry to hear that. You see, I was hoping you could handle a press conference of some sort."

"You gotta be kidding me!" Warrick practically snarled.

Nick looked sick at the thought. "My--my parents spoke to the press after I was found."

"I'm aware of that. But the only reason that the press didn't go after it more is that the whole Councilman Allridge and Miss Nevada scandal broke the same day."

"Councilman Allridge and Miss Nevada?" Nick's eyebrows rose. He hadn't paid any attention to current events lately.

"But it's dying down a bit now and there's not a whole lot happening," Ecklie continued. "The press will be starting to concern themselves with you again."

"I don't want any press," Nick protested.

"The choice isn't exactly yours."

"I can't go in front of a bunch of people and talk about--" Nick stopped abruptly and clenched his teeth. Warrick could tell he was determined not to lose it in front of Ecklie.

"Look, you can't make him do this," Warrick snapped.

"I'm not here to make him," Ecklie bit back. "But if we don't give them something, they'll start looking on their own. They haven't got his new address yet, but it wouldn't take too long for someone to find it."

"Here..?" Nick's voice was starting to waver. "Why would they bother? I'm not famous or anything. They can't...I don't want..." He stopped talking again and dropped his head.

Ecklie obviously didn't have the faintest idea how to respond to Nick. "Look, uh...Nick. If the press conference is no go, another statement from you could do the trick. If the department released it and it was suitably bland, the press could lose interest. Especially considering that this Allridge thing is bound to fire up again--I've heard that Mrs. Allridge and a couple of NFL all-stars are about to enter the picture."

"Really," Warrick was impressed in spite of himself.

"Tell them whatever you want, Conrad," Nick said. Warrick questioned the wisdom of giving Ecklie that much power, but let Nick handle it himself. "As long as they leave me alone, it's fine."

Ecklie seemed quite surprised as well. "There's nothing specific you want said?"

Nick shook his head.

Ecklie studied Nick in silence, his expression of perpetual sourness firmly in place. "I'll see what I can do, then. You, uh, you take care."

"Thanks," Nick's voice was low, but definitely sincere.

The man was obviously eager to make his escape, but Warrick could tell by Ecklie's expression that the assistant director also wanted to speak to him. "I'm just going to see Conrad out, Nick," he said in an equable tone he never used around Ecklie. At any other time Nick's reaction would have been amazement and then amusement, but now he just nodded again. "I'll be right back."

Ecklie reached his car before turning to speak to Warrick. "Grissom told me you wanted a few more days off. I could only manage four more before you go off pay."

"Whatever," Warrick shrugged.

"Catherine had a suggestion, though, since she said this is mostly about not leaving Nick alone."

"And?"

"I can put you back on swing temporarily. Then someone from graveyard or Catherine could stay with Nick while you're at work--until he can stay alone, that is." Ecklie's mouth twisted downward. "Shouldn't he be back in the hospital if he needs 24-hour care?"

"No, he shouldn't," Warrick replied so firmly that Ecklie let it drop.

"Fine. But in any case, before you come back to work on any shift, you're going to see Dr. Kane."

"Hell with that."

"Yeah, I know Gil let you skip it, but I'm not," Ecklie sounded just as determined on this point as Warrick had on his. "You want back on the job, I want a clean bill from Kane. If anything goes wrong out there while you're working, its not just your head on the chopping block, its Grissom's and mine. Grissom might be willing to stick his neck out like that, but I'm not."

"Man, that's so--"

"Every other CSI and lab tech directly involved in the case has had to do the same," Ecklie pointed out with a scowl. "I've been willing to give you a whole lot of leeway, but not that much."

Warrick didn't speak, but let out a low, frustrated breath.

"I'll call you with the appointment time," Conrad said, then got into his Mercedes and drove away, leaving Warrick fuming in Nick's driveway.

Warrick threw himself into the armchair across from the rotund black man and amped up his best glare.

Dr. Kane was not impressed. He had dealt with schizophrenics, psychopaths, mass murderers and serial rapists; it was going to take a lot more than a single, sullen, recovering gambler to rattle to him. "It sounds as though Nick has come to rely on you quite a bit, Warrick," he said conversationally.

Warrick's lip curled and there was an edge of triumph in his voice when he spoke. "That's doctor-patient privilege you're breaking. You could get in trouble for violating Nick's civil rights."

"Let's not get ridiculous," Kane returned amiably. "Do you think Nick is the only person I could learn something like that from?"

The scowl on Warrick's face deepened.

"Now if you would just step off the defensive maybe we could get something done."

Normally, Warrick got along well with Phillip Kane. He had needed Kane's opinion on various cases and had always trusted the man's insight. He knew how good Kane was at his job, and that was precisely what was worrying him. "What do you want to know?"

"What do think I want to know?"

That particular trick of psychiatrists irritated Warrick like no other, but he forced himself to remain calm. "You want to hear how I'm handling what happened to Nick."

"And..?"

"And I'm handling it. End of story."

One corner of Kane's mouth twitched. "Nice try."

Warrick snorted. "You think I'm going to just spill my guts sitting here? That's not me. You want to know anything, you can ask."

Kane was silent for a moment. "Do you feel Nick has come to rely on you?"

"That's something you'd have to ask Nick."

"I'm asking you."

"I don't know. I know he can rely on me."

"I see," Kane nodded. "And that is because..."

"He's my best friend," Warrick finished in a well-duh tone.

"All right."

Kane looked so infuriatingly cool and even dubious about the situation that Warrick's temper began to fray. "Y'know what? If you had seen Nick in that box--have you seen any of the feed? Because if you had, you wouldn't even need to ask stupid questions like these."

"What went through your mind when you saw the feed?"

"Are you kidding me?" Warrick could barely believe the question. "What do you think went through my mind?"

"Did you feel guilty? Relieved?"

"Oh, I get it." And suddenly Warrick did--as easily as he used to spot a frat boy's sad excuse for a bluff. "Because we flipped for the scene? Yeah, I thought about that a lot. Relieved and then guilty because I felt relieved? Yeah, of course."

"So you would be watching Nick and feel relieved that--"

"Wait," Warrick shook his head. "When I was watching Nick? Was I thinking those things when I was watching Nick? Jesus, are you nuts? When I saw him on that feed all I thought--hell, I don't even know what I thought. I barely thought anything. That other stuff--I thought that when I was processing or driving or--not when I was watching Nicky."

Kane's eyebrows rose slightly. "All right--"

"Doc, just tell me what all this has to do with me being able to do my job."

"Your superiors are concerned about you."

"In other words--nothing. I've been doing my job, when I'm on the job. Just tell me what kind of hoops I have to jump through to keep doing it."

"Fine. One session every second week. For starters. And you have to participate."

"Participate. Isn't that what I'm doing now?"

"Very grudgingly," Kane gave him a pointed look.

"But good enough, right?"

Kane signed a paper in Warrick's folder and handed it to him. "Every second Monday or this is no longer viable. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough." Warrick took the paper and examined it, and as he did, several things clicked into place. The first was that it was something of a relief to discuss that hellish day without worrying much about what the listener thought. The second was that this was an awful lot like a poker game. As long as he didn't get greedy and go for the big, flashy win--getting out of the visits entirely, he might be able to remain on top. Lying was out of the question--Kane would spot it immediately--but as long as Warrick gave him enough truth and real emotion to satisfy his doctor's instincts, he might be able to get through his sessions without having to reveal his hand. And maybe pick up a few tips to help Nick deal with everything in the process. "So do I finish out the hour today or is this it?"

"Would you object to finishing the hour?"

"Not really," Warrick shrugged easily. "If it's gonna keep you happy and me on the job." He knew it sounded like he wanted to stay but didn't want to admit it, and again, there was enough truth in that to make in nearly impossible to spot the underlying bluff.

Warrick might have given up gambling, but some instincts were as sharp as ever.

Warrick eventually decided not to use up his vacation time--actually, Nick decided that for him by saying he wasn't going to be responsible for Warrick using up the last of his holidays--and made do with the four days extra leave Ecklie arranged for him. Those four days were largely spent trying to come up with a plan that he and Nick could agree to. The biggest stumbling block was not the time Warrick would be at work, but the hours he was asleep.

Nick agreed to Warrick staying on his sofa again, but he flatly refused the idea of someone else being there while they were sleeping. Warrick wanted this because he was worried about Nick's continued nightmares, and argued the point until Nick said-- "I don't want anyone sitting there watching me when I can't see them."

There was nothing Warrick could say to that.

It didn't occur to either man that Warrick had spent hours upon hours doing exactly that.

Nick insisted that if a nightmare wasn't bad enough to wake someone in the next room, then it was something he would deal with on his own. Warrick only agreed on the condition that Nick wake him if it took more than twenty minutes to get back to sleep.

Time when Warrick was at work would be filled by very long visits--hours long--from Nick's friends and colleagues and Nick would spend the rest of the time alone. Warrick wasn't thrilled with the amount of time Nick was by himself, but Nick claimed it was necessary. Arguing too long only added stress for Nick, so Warrick dropped it but was determined to remain alert to any negative changes.

In those few days following his "progress" visit with Kane, Nick would either talk for many, many minutes at a time or not at all. He would come out with comments that were bizarre and completely nonsensical until explained in context. Warrick realized after the first few times it happened that Nick was mentioning anything that triggered even the slightest flashback. Once he knew that, Warrick would listen or discuss it until Nick was finished. In this manner, Nick managed to diffuse several of his smaller triggers. The big ones--bright lights, the shower, the scent of bubble gum and bugs--could still shake him, often badly.

The day before Warrick was due to return to work, Nick decided to finally deal with one of his biggest triggers--Gil Grissom.

Grissom had continued to visit nearly every day and Warrick admired the man for his persistence. Grissom did he best to speak easily and normally to a man who could never look him in the eye.

So when Nick, out of the blue, asked, "How much did you hear?" Grissom was understandably thrown.

"How much did I hear?" he repeated blankly.

Nick took several deep breaths, looking as though he was already regretting his decision.

Warrick, sitting at the opposite end of the sofa, had the distinct feeling he ought to make himself scarce. "I'll...uh, I'm gonna go out for a walk, I think."

"No!"

The panicked note in Nick's voice was enough to make Warrick remain seated, and he exchanged a concerned look with Grissom.

"What is it you want to know, Nicky?" Grissom asked, and Warrick was reminded again how utterly gentle Gil's voice could be when necessary.

The dark eyes met Gil's only briefly, but it was the longest they had held since Nick was pulled from the ground. "You...if you can..." Nick stopped and tried to gather himself.

Gil sat relaxed in his chair, looking as though he had all the time in the world to hear whatever Nick wanted to say. Warrick tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible unless Nick needed help. Both men recognized that this particular step had to be entirely Nick's.

"You can...read lips," Nick's voice had thickened, but remained steady.

Gil tilted his head, curious. "Yes, I can."

"You saw me on the feed, yeah? When I made that audio tape? The one where I say goodbye to everyone..."

Warrick's stomach gave a sudden lurch at that revelation.

"...you saw that."

"Yes, I did," Gil agreed. Calm, no hesitation. Nothing to make it more difficult for Nick.

Nick made a visible effort to steady himself again. "You saw it all."

"Until the ants began attacking, yes."

A shudder ran through Nick's body. "I didn't get the chance to finish it before--well, I suppose that doesn't matter now."

"I think I know what this is about, Nick," Gil said quietly.

"Do you know why?"

Gil shook his head.

"Why I hate the idea of--" Nick's voice caught, but he tried again. "Why the idea that I might--that I..." he had to stop completely, and closed his eyes.

"Never, Nicky. Truly."

Warrick remained silent, hardly daring to breath even though he would have given a month's pay to know what Gil was referring to, especially since Gil's words made Nick's eyes fill with tears.

Several swallows and a deep breath and Nick was ready to try again. "I just--I never expected...I mean, I thought the only way you'd even know about what I said was if--"

Gil sat forward in his chair, his expression pained. "We don't need to think about that."

"I know--always knew--you took a chance when you first hired me. A year's experience in a crime lab--none in the field...I wanted to make sure--I just always worried that..."

"I regretted my decision?" Gil finished with an incredulous smile. "Not once."

Nick's head fell forward until his chin rested on his chest, his shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry if I ever made you think otherwise, Nicky."

"It's my issue, really," Nick dashed a hand across his eyes but gamely kept going. "It just sometimes seemed as though I couldn't--"

Gil glanced at Warrick before he spoke, "I will admit to...worrying about you, but never because I though you were incapable." He glanced at Warrick again and Warrick nodded his understanding.

Nick frowned slightly, but didn't bring up the obvious argument.

"The way you handled yourself...underground--" Gil couldn't stop himself from hesitating over the word. "Was impressive."

Incredibly high praise from someone like Grissom. As much as he may have wanted to hear them, Nick was embarrassed by the words. "I know it's ridiculous of me to want you to--I mean, you found me...you figured out how to get me out of there...for me to--" Nick fell silent for a few seconds, almost cringing before risking another glance at Gil. "I'm sorry. God, I have no right to ask for any sort of...anything. You did everything anyone could..."

Gil gave Warrick a helpless look when Nick began to shake.

"I'm sorry, Gris," Nick was choking up. "I'm acting like you...you owe me something wh-when you've already done ev-everything you w-were supposed to...I'm sorry. This was a b-big mistake...I'm sorry."

"Nicky," Gil had moved to the very edge of his chair. "Nicky, look at me, please. Okay, just listen to me. The searching, the rescue effort...none of it was out of some sense of duty. Not for me, not for any of us. It was because we can't do without you, Nicky."

Warrick watched those deep, dark eyes that were fastened unwaveringly on Gil's face as Nick drank in every word. Although he was glad Nick was finally hearing something he'd desperately needed to hear, Warrick felt a momentary frission of...that couldn't be..? It was gone so quickly that Warrick didn't have much chance to identify it. He knew that it couldn't be jealousy, though, because this was helping Nick and after all, Grissom was his mentor as well.

Tears glistened briefly on Nick's lashes before dropping. Gil and Warrick remained silent, waiting to take their next cue from Nick. Normally, Warrick would have filled the silence, but this wasn't one of Nick's usual jags and it didn't seem like his place this time.

The warble of a cell phone cut through the silence and made all three men jump.

"Sorry," Gil muttered, flipping his phone open. "Grissom....No, I wasn't sleeping....Yeah, okay. Jim, I'll have to call you back....Yeah, well so is this." He disconnected the call and looked at Nick.

"Brass?" Nick was still a little teary, but had his voice under control.

"Yeah," Gil hadn't moved back to his usual posture. "Nick--"

"Break in a case?"

"Brass got a lead on the Brackmahn homicide."

"I heard about that one," Nick seemed calmer with each word. "You've been waiting for a break for weeks."

"We have," Gil admitted. "But, Nicky, we were in the middle of something. I don't want to take off before we're done."

Nick's eyes were wide. "Gris..." he sounded as though his world had tilted on its axis. "It's a case..."

Gil studied Nick for several minutes. "Are you going to be okay with this, Nicky? If I go now?"

"Yeah," Nick said immediately, but then hesitated. He looked at Warrick, and when he got an encouraging nod, he turned back to Gil. "Yeah. I'm good. I'll be fine."

"All right, then." Grissom stood up. "I'd better catch up to Brass." He started for the door. "I'll probably be back tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you for--"

Grissom cut Nick off with a quick shake of his head. Then, with one hand on the door knob, he paused again. "Nick, just in case it doesn't come up again...when you come back to work, it will likely be some time before you're assigned to any case alone. Just so you know, it won't be because you can't handle it."

"Oookaaay," Nick looked at Warrick, bemused.

"It'll be because we can't handle it," Warrick clarified.

Nick blinked and looked back at Grissom in astonishment. Grissom nodded his agreement with Warrick before walking out and closing the door quietly behind him.

After staring at the door a bit longer, Nick gave Warrick an utterly bewildered look. Then he let out a deep sigh and sank into the sofa, closing his eyes.

Warrick let the silence go one another few minutes before speaking. "That was huge, man. Even if I didn't follow most of it."

Another sigh, "I shouldn't have just thrown that at him the way I did."

"I think he'll survive," Warrick said dryly, getting a little smile out of Nick. "So is that why you had such a hard time around Grissom? You think you let him down in there somehow? That he regrets hiring you?"

"I know it sounds stupid, but--"

"Nah. It's just that I could have cleared that up for you right off." Warrick considered for a moment, "But I guess you needed to hear it from Grissom."

"It goes back to before what happened," Nick explained. "But Dr. Kane thought my recovery is tied up with a lot of the same stuff, so..." He closed his eyes wearily, "It goes all the way back to me coming to Vegas in the first place. I almost explained it to Gris, but...Jesus, that's just too much stuff to dump on him when he's got nothing to do with any of it."

Warrick waited quietly, knowing Nick would either explain further or change the subject.

"He took a big chance on me. I was such a green kid. One year in a lab and not a lot else to go on." Nick took a deep breath before continuing, "I was my first chance to find out what I could do. Not get patted on the head because I was the baby, or someone's son, or someone's brother. I love my family but...I don't trust their opinions--not of me. Even when I was little, I kinda knew that not everything I did could be a great as they told me it was. No one here gave a damn who my family was, and well, I knew that Grissom's opinion was one I could count on."

"True. He doesn't hand out approval lightly," Warrick smiled.

"It's my problem, but I was just never sure I had it."

"Shit, you really are a mess, aren't you?"

Nick didn't open his eyes, but his lips twitched. "Oh, you don't want to go there, buddy. I got stuff on you, too."

Warrick chuckled. Every now and then he would risk a smart ass remark like the ones they used to exchange all the time. Whenever Nick bit back--and it was happening more and more often--Warrick felt a little bit more weight lift from his heart.

Warrick found adapting to a swing shift of different people surprisingly easy. Sofia was grateful to have him for as long as he was available, because with two inexperienced newcomers in Marisol Fuentes and Erin Young and a contrary vet in Lee Travis, her position as swing shift supervisor was not an easy one. She happily handed Warrick any cases that overlapped with the graveyard shift, so Warrick still worked with Sara, Greg and Grissom often.

The fact that Nick continued to improve at a slow but steady pace also made Warrick's second return to work much less stressful. Nick seemed to be handling the time he spent alone without too much trouble, but then, when everything was added up, Nick rarely spent more than three or four of the 24 hours alone. With the extra staff Ecklie had hired, the number of doubles CSIs had to pull in order to solve cases had dropped accordingly. Most of the time, Warrick was able to keep his shift to the regular eight hours and only occasionally worked ten or twelve.

All of the lab techs would drop by Nick's for visits, usually in the late afternoon, but with the exception of Bobby and Hodges, they rarely stayed for more than an hour at a time. Greg, on the other hand, spent long hours at Nick's townhouse. Neither he nor Nick would cop to how many video game tournaments they'd had, though. Sara wanted to stay with Nick, but sometimes found it difficult to fill the hours. Then she got her hands on nutritional information Dr. Kane had given Nick that was meant to help his recovery and inspiration struck. Sara was a scientist and definitely not a cook, but she did enjoy experimenting--which was really the only way to describe her efforts to concoct some of the meals on the list. Nick found her attempts entertaining, if not edible.

Catherine would visit Nick nearly every day, usually at supper time or just after. Sometimes she coaxed Nick out to eat, but Nick wasn't comfortable around strangers yet. He couldn't predict what might trigger a flashback and the flashbacks still happened occasionally. Eleven-year-old Lindsey was allowed to visit as well, providing her homework had been finished. Catherine would tease Nick that he was great bribe material.

Brass fell into the habit of dropping by Nick's with a couple of DVDs in the evening, before his night shift or after a day shift. The DVDs were either cheesy cop movies he and Nick could ridicule or old westerns they could enjoy. Although he occasionally joined them for a western, Grissom would usually play chess with Nick when he visited. The entomologist was also tentatively beginning to fill Nick in on cases at work.

Nick spent a good portion of his time alone building his strength back up. He had gone to the gym previously, but that was off limits since he'd had a flashback on the bench press. Warrick had hustled him out immediately, but Nick's humiliation at having panicked in a gym full of people compounded the flashback to trigger the most severe jag he'd had for some time. Instead, Nick got his workout running short distances, walking long ones or working with his free weights.

With all the exercise, Nick was sleeping better, and the nightmares only got bad enough for Warrick to hear every couple of days, rather than several times a day. Not long after Warrick's return to work, Nick had backed out of the plan to wake Warrick if he couldn't go back to sleep. Nick claimed that Warrick needed all the rest he could get, especially considering that he'd been sleeping on a sofa instead of an actual bed. Warrick wasn't sure whether that was a hint for him to stop staying there, but decided he wasn't going anywhere unless Nick came right out and asked him to go. Besides, even though Nick never woke him, there were several days when Warrick would open his eyes to find Nick sleeping peacefully in the wing chair. Since it suited Nick and he got a solid night's sleep out of the deal, Warrick let it go.

Nearly two weeks after his return to work, Warrick drew a multiple homicide that soon linked with a multiple Sara was investigating. Warrick worked a double and was on his way to a triple before they got a break in the case and he was satisfied enough with their progress to get some sleep. He had called Nick when he'd started his double, and Nick--a bit exasperated--told him not to worry, that he would be sleeping most of the time, anyway.

When Warrick finally got back to Nick's the sun had been up for hours, and Nick was getting ready to go out. "Everything okay?"

Nick raised his eyebrows, "I'm not the one working a five-homicide case."

"Eight," Warrick corrected wearily.

Nick winced, "Some sort of spree killing?"

"That's what it's looking like. I've got to meet Sara again at three." Warrick took in Nick's sweats, "Out for a walk or a run?"

"Run."

"Okay, I'm gonna catch a quick nap while you're out," Warrick nodded toward the couch.

Nick frowned, "Man, you just put in--what? Nineteen hours? Take my bed and crash for a while."

"Naahh," Warrick grimaced, "I don't know about that."

"Go on, Rick," Nick urged him. "The babysitting's gotta taper off at some point, yeah? I was fine last night--only woke up with one dream, and it's not like I have a visit with Dr. Kane today or anything."

"Getting pretty sick of this, huh?" Warrick forced a smile.

"Not so much," Nick shrugged. "But I figure you must be."

"Well, I'm not," Warrick said shortly.

Nick looked troubled. "Rick, you've already..." he cleared his throat. "I don't like the idea of your job possibly suffering because of me. Especially since you've already done so much."

"Alright, alright," Warrick raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. "If I go crash in your room, will you shut up about it?"

Nick smiled, "Even if I don't, at least you won't be able to hear it." He zipped up his jacket and headed for the door. "Just don't get drool all over my pillow," was his parting shot.

Warrick held his smile until the door closed behind Nick, then he let out a deep sigh. Shoulders slumped, he walked into Nick's room and stripped down to his shorts. He collapsed onto the bed and groaned when Nick's scent surrounded him. Before he had time to consider what sort of dreams this would cause him, he was sound asleep.

When he awoke again, it took Warrick a moment to figure out why he wasn't on the sofa. Nick's alarm clock showed it to be nearly one in the afternoon, which still gave him plenty of time to get ready. He stretched and rolled over, tempted to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Then he made the mistake of burying his face in the pillow and inhaling, which woke up Warrick Jr. in record time. Groaning again in frustration, he got out of bed and decided to grab a shower before he did anything else so he could take care of the situation.

But when he opened the bedroom door, he heard the unmistakable sound of Nick gasping for air amidst sobs, which could only mean one thing. That quickly took care of his libido, and Warrick yanked on his discarded jeans. "Fuck, Nicky," he muttered, grabbing his shirt. "Why the hell didn't you wake me up?" He pulled his shirt on but didn't bother buttoning it before hurrying into the great room.

He halted when he saw Hodges sitting in the chair, going on about something in his bored, sarcastic drawl and Nick on the sofa leaning his head on one hand while he wiped his eyes with the other. One glance was all it took to see what had happened. Laughing could still trigger a jag for Nick, but it no longer upset him to have it happen. Normally, Warrick wouldn't be worried much about it, but today was different. "What the hell is going on?"

Nick looked up and began to answer, but all that came out was something between a chuckle and a sob. He was still having trouble catching his breath and soon gave up any attempt at speaking.

"I was just telling Nick the difference between Dupont and Sorbonne, and that until Sara attends the latter, he shouldn't let her anywhere near his kitchen again."

That got another sputter out of Nick.

Warrick glared at the chemist. "You're sitting here babbling while he's practically in the middle of a panic attack?"

Hodges glanced at Nick and then arched an eyebrow at Warrick. "Yeah, about that. I recall Gil mentioning that if Nick has one of these episodes, its best to just continue talking as though nothing out of the ordinary is going on. Just a little tip you might want to consider trying."

Nick's eyes widened, and he nearly choked. Any response from him was out of the question.

"I know," Warrick seethed. "I'm the one who told Gil that."

Sensing trouble, Nick made one last attempt to speak. "It's fine, Rick," he finally managed. "Hodges has been cracking me up with that attitude of his for more than an hour. It's just this last time that I lost it."

Hodges smiled at Warrick with his typical smugness. Normally, Warrick found Hodges an irritation at most, but today--

"I just wanted to plow him one."

"Why was that?" Dr. Kane asked as though Warrick weren't pacing his office like a caged tiger.

"Because--" Warrick halted momentarily, then continued walking. "Because there's Nick trying to breathe and Hodges is just sitting there looking bored and going on about Sara's cooking." He finally dropped into a chair across from Dr. Kane.

"And what should he have been doing?"

"Well, not that."

"What would you have done?"

Warrick gritted his teeth when he saw he was painting himself into a corner. He had actually been looking forward to his session with Dr. Kane for several days so he could get the incident with Hodges off his chest. Now, though, he was starting to realize that he may have left himself open to the sort of questions he most wanted to avoid.

"Warrick? What would you have done?"

He knew he had to find a way to get out of answering without looking like he wasn't cooperating. "I try not to trigger a jag."

"And you think Hodges did? On purpose?"

Warrick growled under his breath, then sighed. "No, of course not."

"But you don't believe he handled the situation properly."

Get yourself out of this--now. "I guess Hodges just gets on my nerves sometimes."

Kane nodded. "So if you had walked in and anyone else had been with Nick, you wouldn't have been as upset with them."

"I...don't know," Warrick admitted.

"As Nick's 'jags' go, was this very severe?"

"No."

After a few moments, Kane asked. "How often have you not been there to help Nick through one of his episodes?"

"You mean since his folks left?" Warrick asked before he thought. Seconds later, he realized what Kane was probably getting at, "I've been back at work for two weeks, so..."

"And before that?"

Warrick shifted in his chair. "Yeah, I was usually there for him."

"So it's safe to say that until recently you were accustomed to being Nick's main support system."

"We all supported Nick."

"But you were with him the majority of the time."

Warrick could see the train wreck approaching, but he didn't know where the brakes were. "Well, yeah...I had the time off work."

"You made the time."

"Yeah, okay."

"But Nick's recovering now," Kane reminded him.

"He is," Warrick agreed.

"And you're...okay with that?"

Warrick's lip curled. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Lately, is Nick relying on you as much?"

"He's getting better. So that's good." To Warrick's horror, he didn't even sound convincing to himself.

"Warrick, when a caregiver's role is as intense as yours has been, it's not uncommon once the patient begins to heal, for the caregiver to--"

"Y'know what?" Warrick snarled, "Fuck you."

"Warrick..."

"You think I don't want to see Nick better? You need the goddamn shrink!"

"Warrick," Kane voice became suddenly stern. "That's not what I'm saying."

Warrick fought to rein in his temper, desperate not to give Kane any reason to take him off the job. "I want Nick to get better," he gritted.

"I know you do," Kane reassured him.

Fastening his gaze out the window, Warrick nodded for Kane to go on.

"It has nothing to do with you not wanting the best for Nick, Warrick. You obviously do."

Warrick sighed and closed his eyes. "Then what is this about?"

"That's what we're going to discuss."

Warrick drove back to Nick's troubled but calm. He'd managed to walk the tightrope between the truth and the real truth, although it hadn't been easy. He'd admitted to Kane that he felt that he hadn't done enough for Nick to alleviate the guilt he still felt, but had managed to avoid an issue that bothered him even more--the possibility that he was using Nick's problems as an excuse to stay nearby without revealing his true feelings.

He hated that idea, because it put him way beyond overprotective, past pathetic and possibly into sick. His only consolation was that other than being puzzled by his anger at Hodges--and it had not been jealousy--Nick didn't seem to notice anything unusual about his behavior.

As he pulled up, Warrick's attention immediately focused on Nick's empty driveway. Assuming that Nick had made one of his brief trips to the local grocery store, Warrick let himself into the townhouse. He glanced around to check if Nick had left a note, but didn't think much of it when he couldn't see one.

Ten minutes later, Warrick looked more carefully for a note.

Twenty minutes later, he called Catherine to check whether Nick had stopped by the lab.

Twenty-five minutes later, he called Greg to see if Nick had made plans of some sort.

Thirty minutes later, his stomach turned to ice when he realized that no one had ever verified for certain whether or not Walter Gordon had pulled off such a grand scheme alone.

Warrick usually knew how to handle himself in any given situation. There were times he'd been scared or frantic or exhausted, but he'd always managed to do something. Even if it was the wrong thing, he always did something.

Right now, though, he couldn't decide whether to go out and look for Nick himself, call more of their colleagues to check with them, call Brass to put out the word or wait awhile longer. Leaning on the kitchen counter, Warrick forced himself to calm down and think straight.

When his cell rang, Warrick nearly tore his pocket trying to get to it. "Warrick Brown," he barked.

"Hey, it's O'Riley."

Warrick rolled his eyes. The case he'd been working with O'Riley on was more than a week old. He couldn't think of anything he cared less about at the moment. "Yeah. Listen, I can't--"

"Do you think it's a good idea for him to be here by himself?"

His heart stuttered to a halt for a split second before hammering at double speed. "Let...let who?"

"Stokes. I'm not sure he should even be here."

"Where?" Warrick demanded. "Where are you?"

"Nevada Women's C.F."

Warrick frowned in confusion, then it hit him. "Kelly Gordon."

"Gordon?" O'Riley repeated. "Isn't that--oh, shit."

"Where is he?"

"He went in about ten minutes ago."

"Stall him, O'Riley, you hear me? Do not let him leave."

"Got it."

Warrick had no idea how he got from hanging up his phone to the 515. That space of time was a blur--a red blur. His next coherent thought was that he probably shouldn't be doing one twenty-five down the highway when he could barely see straight, but the thought wasn't enough to make him ease up on the gas.

His panic when he found Nick gone, his frustration after his visit with Kane and his hurt that Nick didn't seem to need him anymore met and melded into an icy-hot dagger that burned from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

He made the forty-minute drive in less than twenty and spotted O'Riley's Taurus amidst the staff vehicles. The burly detective climbed out when Warrick pulled up next to him.

"Hey," O'Riley walked over to Warrick's open window.

"Where is he?"

O'Riley blinked momentarily at Warrick's tone, but didn't bother asking questions. "There," he nodded to the visitors' parking lot.

Looking, Warrick spotted the black Tahoe in furthest corner, near the fence.

"I didn't talk to him or anything," O'Riley continued. "He looked like a wreck when he came out, and he went and parked over there."

"Thanks," Warrick said. "I'll get him home." He pulled back out and drove to visitors' lot before O'Riley could say anything else. He parked next to Nick and got out. Nick didn't even look over, and for a split second, Warrick wondered if he was asleep. As he walked around to the driver's side of Nick's vehicle, he saw that Nick was so focused on getting his breathing under control that he was oblivious to his surroundings.

So when Warrick yanked his door open, Nick let out a startled yelp that nearly ended in a sob. He stared blankly for several long moments, his eyes still shiny with unshed tears. "Warrick?"

"Out," Warrick snapped. "Get in my ride. We're going back."

Nick drew back slightly at Warrick's demeanor. "Warrick, I-I can--"

"Now," Warrick spat, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I mean it, Nick."

Hesitating only a few seconds more, Nick climbed down and carefully edged around Warrick to climb in the passenger side of Warrick's SUV. He let out a sigh when he was seated, and a few more small sobs got away from him.

Warrick slammed Nick's door shut then stalked back around to get behind the wheel of his Tahoe, slamming his door with equal force.

"I can explain this--" Nick ventured again.

"Don't talk to me when I'm driving." Warrick peeled out of the lot and back onto the highway.

A few miles down the road, Nick tried again. "This was something I had to--"

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

The ride back took thirty minutes, and was completely silent except for Nick's hitched breathing. Warrick could feel Nick's eyes on him, wary and concerned, but he might as well have been alone in his vehicle for all the attention he gave Nick.

When they finally pulled up at Nick's townhouse, Nick quickly got out and went inside, pausing only briefly to glance back over his shoulder.

Warrick took several minutes to try--unsuccessfully--to calm down before storming after him. He caught up with Nick inside and grabbed him by the bicep. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Warrick!" Nick tried to pull away. "Look, it was something that I had to do."

"Without telling anyone," Warrick added.

"I thought you might try to talk me out of it." Nick tried to free his arm again.

Snarling under his breath, Warrick shook his head instead of answering. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick's answering machine blinking, and that the LCD number was definitely higher than the "0" it had been before he'd left.

Unsure how to interpret Warrick's silence, Nick continued speaking, "And I...I really have to do some things alone sooner or later, Warrick. This...well, this visit was an important thing to do on my own."

"And a note? Too much effort?"

"Warrick, take it easy." Nick tried once more to tug his arm loose.

"Like hell!" Warrick seethed, pulling Nick toward him until they were practically nose to nose. "Do you have any idea what it was like? You've never gone anywhere for more than fifteen minutes, tops. Suddenly there's no sign of you for--you basically up and vanish. AGAIN."

Nick's mouth fell open as he tried to come up with a suitable response.

"Do you have any idea what I thought--" Warrick abruptly spun Nick around so he could see the answering machine. "I called Catherine and Greg trying to track you down. There were no messages on the machine then. Now how many are there?"

"Eleven," Nick said in a low, shaky voice.

Viciously, Warrick stabbed at the play button.

"Hi, Nicky, it's Catherine. Get back to me when you get this message."

"Hey, Nick, it's Greg. Give me a shout when you hear this."

"Hi, it's Sara. Call me back, okay?"

"This is Gil, Nick. Please get a hold of someone from the team when you can."

"Hey, Nick. This is Bobby. There's a few people looking for you, so let someone know where you are, all right?"

"Nick, it's Greg again. Even if you don't call me, make sure you get ahold of Warrick, okay?"

"It's Jim, Nicky. Let someone know what's going on before I put out an APB, okay?"

"This is David Hodges. For god's sake, call someone so everyone will shut up, would you?"

"Nicky, it's Catherine again. Sorry for bombarding you, but it's really important that you let someone know where you are. I don't want to call Warrick again to check because he's already upset enough, but--"

Slamming down on the stop button, Warrick cut off the rest of the messages.

Nick's eyes were huge as he stared at Warrick. "I--Rick, I'm so sorry..." he said, his voice low in an obvious attempt to hide its trembling.

Warrick was staring at the answering machine as if it had betrayed him. His anger had suddenly deserted him, leaving him with a huge void and no emotion to fill it. He released Nick and stepped back, then wiped both hands down his face.

"I'm sorry," Nick whispered. "You have no idea. I wasn't thinking at all. I know that's no excuse, but you have to believe that the last thing I want to do--"

Warrick cut him off with a forceful slashing motion. "You know what? I've got to get to work. You want to do stuff on your own? You can start by returning all those calls." Without giving Nick the chance to reply, he stalked out of the townhouse, slamming the door behind him.

He wasn't due at work for another hour, so Warrick went back to his apartment. After checking his fridge on the off chance that he had a beer left, he stretched out on his sofa and willed away the last ninety minutes. Eyes closed, he tried to come up with a logical reason for his reaction. He threw an arm over his face and sighed when he reached the conclusion that there simply wasn't one. In one morning, he'd gone from being a helpful friend to a paranoid warden.

He's a grown man, you moron. He's got the right to go wherever he wants whenever he wants. He doesn't need to check in with you or anyone. It's not like the two of you are--

Warrick kicked the sofa arm in frustration. He knew that helping Nick through his recovery would be difficult, but he never dreamed it would tie him in this many knots. Dr. Kane had obviously seen this on his first visit. With a sinking feeling, Warrick wondered what else Kane might have noted. He didn't want Nick finding out about the feelings he'd been harboring--that is, he did want Nick to find out, but not this way and definitely not now.

"Dammit," Warrick growled. He hated the feeling of being unable to trust his own judgement. Even more, he hated the realization that in order to start thinking clearly he was going to have to put some distance between Nick and himself.

A quick glance at the clock told him he'd better hustle himself to make it to work on time. As he got ready, he very deliberately pushed everything not related to work to the back of his mind and sealed it there. He might be screwing up everything important in his life right now, but he was damned if he was going to add his job to that list.

Warrick knew the minute he arrived at the lab that Nick had returned at least some of those messages, because no on asked any questions about it. Catherine greeted him in her usual breezy tone, but with a sympathetic look that made him wonder what Nick had told her. Relentlessly, Warrick squashed those thoughts back under the seal and walked into Sofia's office to check in.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the door frame.

"Hey," Sofia returned. "How's that multiple homicide you're working with Sara?" If she had any knowledge or curiosity about the day's event, it didn't show in her cool, husky voice.

"Detective Conroy is supposed to call me once she's hunted down some of our leads."

"I'd like you to take a look at this then. Three 419's out on Sahara," she handed him an assignment slip. "Take Fuentes with you, and if it's not related to your multiple, hand it off to her when Conroy reaches you."

"Will do." While it would be wrong to say Warrick was grateful for another multiple homicide, he didn't mind a scene that was going to require every bit of his concentration.

Marisol Fuentes was new to Vegas CSI, but talented and sassy and reminded Warrick a bit of Catherine. It was obvious from the start that this scene had nothing to do with his case--it looked to be of a lover's triangle that ended in suicide--but Warrick stayed to help process the scene until he got a page not from Conroy, but Mia in DNA. Marisol waved him off without looking up from the footprint she was lifting.

Back at the lab Mia apologized and explained why it took so long for results. "I wanted to run the test a few more times, just to be sure."

Warrick frowned at he took the printouts she handed him, read them, then reread them before looking up at the lab tech in disbelief.

She smiled and nodded her understanding. "Weird, huh?"

"No shit." Three different killers--all related by blood. Three different families among the victims with members at each crime scene. Every victim had a different last name, and up until now, had appeared to have nothing in common. He glanced at the clock, glad that Sara would be arriving for her shift soon--this was just the sort of puzzle she would love sorting out. "Thanks, Mia," he said, leaving to track down Detective Conroy and relay this bizarre revelation.

He was right about Sara. She was baffled but enthused by this turn of events, and after a couple of hours on the computer, she managed to put together the bizarre case of baby buying, sperm donors, and adoptions from hell. Warrick realized Sara must have also found time to talk to someone about what happened with Nick, because when he decided to clock out at midnight, his usual end-of-shift, and leave her to finish the case with Conroy, she didn't bat an eyelash about it. She didn't even seem remotely peeved or puzzled, but bid him good night and promised to leave him news of the case for tomorrow.

So Warrick went home, but hadn't been at his apartment more than twenty minutes before the urge to check up on Nick prevented him from thinking of anything else. He knew that when he did speak to Nick again the first thing he would have to do is apologize, and he had no problem with that, but he dreaded the idea of trying to explain his actions.

He hasn't had nightmares for a few days now. He'll be fine.

Of course, today would have been upsetting for Nick--to say the least. Warrick closed his eyes when he realized what Nick had probably gone through before being subjected to his anger.

You both need time to cool down more. Let it go until tomorrow.

He had needed the time to cool down. Nick seemed more hurt by what happened than anything else. The idea that he was responsible for that made Warrick cringe with self-loathing.

You don't have to go over there. There is such a thing as a phone.

Warrick even went so far as to take out his cell, but then sighed and snapped it shut again. He could be as logical and clear-thinking as he wanted, but the overriding fact remained that he wanted to see for himself that Nick was okay with everything. Or, if he was being completely honest, he just wanted to see Nick.

He'd never been good with temptation. It had taken years for him to learn how to resist the lure of easy money on a green felt table. As he started his jeep, he reflected that when it came to temptation, Lady Luck had nothing on Nick Stokes.

There were still several lights on when Warrick pulled up to Nick's townhouse. He was relieved, but not surprised; Nick had slowly been slipping into the late night pattern that graveyard workers lived by. Warrick briefly considered and discarded the idea of using the key he'd had since Nick left Avalon Springs and knocked instead.

After a few beats of silence, there was a wary--"Who is it?"

"It's me." Then as an afterthought--"Warrick."

The door opened almost immediately. "Hi," Nick offered him a tentative smile.

"Mind if I come in?"

"'Course not," Nick stepped back to let him in.

Warrick walked inside and turned around. Nick closed the door and rested his forehead against it briefly before squaring his shoulders and facing Warrick. Studying him, Warrick was glad to see that Nick wasn't shaking. However, he was pale, and his eyes were fairly red, which only served to emphasize the shadows under them. Warrick took a deep breath, "Look, Nick, I was way out of line today."

"Not completely," Nick said, using his trick of keeping his voice low to hide any trembling.

Fingers hooked in his pockets, Warrick propped one shoulder against the wall, hoping that if he acted relaxed, some of his nerves would stop jittering. "I've been--uh...oh, hell," he sighed as he abruptly lost whatever he was going to say. Rather, he had so many things to say, he didn't know which to say first.

"I should have told someone where I was going." Nick bit his lower lip for a moment, "I know I can get pretty...self-absorbed and--"

A startled laugh escaped from Warrick. "You're...what? You've got to be kidding me!"

Nick's expression grew more troubled, "I know that's no excuse, but--"

"Yeah, because it isn't true," Warrick said with an amazed chuckle. "And hell, even if it was, you're supposed to be concentrating on yourself right now."

"But not if it--look, I was concentrating so much on just getting there without backing out that I didn't think about anything else."

"Why didn't you mention it to anyone?"

"I didn't want anyone to try talking me out of it," Nick's voice wavered briefly before he caught himself. "I hadn't even told Dr. Kane about my plan to see Kelly, although we'd talked about her. I'm still not sure why it was important for me to see her, but I just felt like it was."

"Then it was," Warrick said simply. Then on pure instinct, he asked, "How did that go?"

"I...don't think it did," Nick said quietly. He walked to his sofa and sank down.

"Why? What happened?" Warrick frowned. Christ, if this was a disaster and I only added to it...

Nick leaned back and closed his eyes. "Nothing. She obviously didn't want to see me. Hung up on me once and--" Another quiver in his voice betrayed him. "She barely said anything..."

Watching Nick carefully, Warrick suddenly realized the truth of the situation. Self-absorbed, my ass. "Nicky...my god, Nick. Tell me you didn't go to see if you could help her."

"No," Nick replied, but embarrassment colored his voice. "I mean, not really. It started because Phillip--Dr. Kane--and I were talking about why. Why did this happen and...everything. Then that turned into why Gordon did everything the way he did and that turned into him doing it all for his daughter's sake." A few tears slid from beneath Nick's eyelids. "Losing your father would be bad enough, but unless she's completely heartless it must be--" he broke off when Warrick let out another soft laugh.

Chuckling quietly, Warrick wandered into the kitchen area and stood looking up as if the ceiling held all the answers.

Really, what choice did he have here? How could he not be in love with someone like Nick Stokes?

Warrick released a pent-up breath and much of his tension went with it. Shaking his head, he turned back toward the sofa. "You're really something else, Nicky, y'know that?"

"I didn't know whatever I am was funny," Nick sounded hurt.

"It's not," Warrick sat in his usual spot on the sofa. "I was just laughing because...hell, because I don't know what else to do."

"Oh." Nick accepted that and a corner of his mouth even quirked up. "Yeah, I know that feeling."

"It's just that most people wouldn't give a damn about this girl. Christ, Nicky, she's the reason you went through--"

"But that doesn't make her responsible," Nick protested. "And it's not like I went there for her. I went for me. Maybe just to see who someone would--would do all that for." He glanced at Warrick, "I thought if--I thought if I saw her I would feel...I don't know."

"I get it, Nicky," Warrick assured him. "Mostly. But most people would find it easier to just blame the Gordons for everything and leave it at that."

"Easier doesn't mean right," Nick frowned. "And I don't say that just to be--oh." He shot Warrick a stricken look. "I was thinking about Kelly Gordon and I never even considered what it would be like for you guys. That's really...backwards and--"

"No, Nick," Warrick cut him off. "We did everything we could to make sure you didn't think about anything except getting better." He shrugged slightly, "Of course, now that you are getting better, you might have to cut the rest of us a little slack."

"Yeah. I'm gonna try not to be so--"

"Self-absorbed?" Warrick supplied, disbelief evident in his voice.

"I try not to be."

"Where did you get the idea that you were?"

"Oh..." Nick's expression grew distant. "Someone pointed it out to me a few years ago."

Warrick snorted, "It had to be someone who didn't know much about you."

A sad, haunted smile flickered briefly on Nick's lips. "You'd be surprised."

Warrick didn't like that expression and decided it was time to change the subject. "Are you going to go visit her again?" he asked, hoping for a negative answer.

"I doubt it," Nick sighed. "She definitely doesn't want to see me and it didn't help the way I thought it would."

"That would probably be my fault," Warrick said heavily.

"No, separate from that," Nick rubbed his eyes. "I knew when I walked out of there that it hadn't been worth it."

"But I certainly didn't help. Like I said, when I couldn't find you I just--lost it. I'm sorry, man." Warrick could feel himself on the border of dangerous territory. "I don't know what else to tell you."

"Don't," Nick's voice caught. "Hell, after everything you've done for me...I just--I'm trying not to rely on everyone so much."

Warrick nodded his understanding because he didn't trust his voice at that moment.

"So when I returned everyone's calls I told them visits were okay but I didn't need any more babysitting." Nick chewed his lip thoughtfully, "I hope I explained it properly to everyone. Anyway, no more babysitting visitors."

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Warrick couldn't help asking. "I mean, to go from having someone with you almost all the time to being all alone?"

Nick gave him a blank look.

"Isn't that what you meant? No more visitors?"

"Oh. Well, I didn't--oh." Nick shifted uncomfortably, "Okay..."

"What?"

"I didn't...er, I wasn't...thinking of you as a visitor."

"Oh." Warrick was suddenly very glad for his years of poker playing--he was able to keep his expression neutral rather than grinning like an idiot. "After what happened, I wasn't sure you'd want me to stick around."

Nick hurriedly said, "If you're sick of staying here, I can get by on my own. I know this has been a pain for you."

They both stopped talking over the other and exchanged half-smiled.

"I got no problem staying for a while longer."

"Okay. Okay, thanks," Nick ducked his head. "There's still sometimes when I've been dreaming that I like knowing there's someone else nearby."

Several images sprang unbidden to Warrick's mind at Nick's words. Hell, Nicky, are you trying to kill me? "Like I said, it's not a problem."

"Thanks."

"So...we okay now?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "Sure we are."

Something didn't quite ring true to Warrick's ear, but he had no idea which part of the conversation to call Nick on. "Pretty rough day for you," he finally ventured.

"Not just for me," Nick quirked another tiny smile at him.

Warrick didn't mind these little smiles. They were unpredictable and usually wistful, but they were genuine. He didn't return it though, as something else occurred to him. "Did you eat today? Even though there wasn't anyone around to make you?"

Nick's smile widened and he actually rolled his eyes. "Noble Roman's delivers until three. Number nine on my speed dial."

Warrick knew as soon as he opened his eyes that he hadn't been asleep for long. A glance at his watch confirmed that it had been less than two hours. For a moment he couldn't figure out what had wakened him, then a desperate cry came from Nick's room. Warrick threw his blankets back and ran for the room--it had been weeks since Nick had a nightmare bad enough to wake him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Warrick caught Nick by the shoulders. "Hey," he tried to avoid Nick's thrashing limbs. "Nick, it's okay."

Nick was incoherent and Warrick couldn't make out any words other than "please."

"Come on, Nicky, you're safe," Warrick shook him a bit harder. "Nick!"

Nick broke free of the dream with a strangled grasp. His hands tightened convulsively on Warrick's forearms.

"Breathe, Nick."

"I c-can't..." Nick panted. "There's gl-glass...the glass is...c-cl-closing in..."

"No, Nick. You can breathe, buddy, you can breathe." Warrick felt a spike of fear. Nick hadn't been this bad since the hospital. "You got plenty of room, Nicky. There's plenty of air."

Nick struggled against Warrick's hands. "Up...up--please..."

Immediately, Warrick pulled him into a sitting position. "Okay, Nicky. You've got lots of room, see?"

Once he was upright, Nick's breathing became easier, but then a shudder ran through him and the tremors began. "No, no..." he choked helplessly. "No, this isn't sup-supposed...to h-happen--not anym-more..."

"Easy, Nicky."

"I...this isn't...I don't want to k-keep...doing this, Warrick..."

"I know," Warrick murmured, pulling the trembling man into his arms.

Nick clutched at him. "God, no...I d-don't want to start ov-over--I can't..."

"Don't worry, Nicky," Warrick moved his hand along Nick's spine in long, soothing strokes. "You had a really rough day. That's what this is."

"I don't w-want...I c-can't..."

"You remember how this works, Nicky," Warrick kept his voice tranquil despite the guilt turning his insides to acid. "Stop trying to fight it and it will be easier, okay? Just ride it out, Nick."

"Ok-k-kay..." Nick sobbed trying to follow Warrick's instructions. "O--kay."

When Nick's breathing finally settled to just the occasional catch Warrick asked, "What was it about, Nick? Do you remember?"

"It was..." Nick rested his head on Warrick's arm. "Th-the prison..."

Warrick felt dread overtake him. This was exactly what he'd feared.

"I was t-talking to Kelly."

Dammit, stop talking about her like she's someone you know! That's not going to help you get better.

"And she...wouldn't--she wouldn't talk," Nick's voice steadied, but only for a moment. "She got up and I asked her to come b-back. But then...th-the...oh, god..."

"Breathe, Nicky," Warrick soothed. "Don't rush it. You don't even have to finish if you don't want to."

But Nick swallowed several times and continued. "The dividers...all of a sudden the gl-glass dividers were...they were all around and...closing in..." Another choke escaped him. "And then sh-she was gone and...you were there..."

Warrick squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his hold.

"So I--I called you and y-you looked at me but th-then...you saw me, b-but you..."

"I left," Warrick whispered. I left. Oh sweet Jesus, that's exactly what I did to him today. For a moment, Warrick thought he would have to fight to breathe as well. "Oh god, Nicky," his voice was little more than a rasp. "Christ, Nicky...I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

"Then you came and woke me up," Nick finished as though relaying a happy ending.

Warrick couldn't speak. Every bit of his concentration was devoted to not breaking down as well. Nick seemed content to lean against him in silence, and as his breath returned to normal, so did Warrick's. Finally, Warrick made himself release Nick so the exhausted man could lie down. He was grateful for the dim light that hid signs of his own misery.

Nick's eyes soon slid closed, but he held onto Warrick's wrist. Feeling completely worn out himself, Warrick released Nick's hold long enough to walk around to the other side of the bed.

Nick's eyes opened when he felt Warrick leave, but he relaxed again when Warrick spoke.

"I'm just going to lean back and catch a few z's myself," Warrick said as he settled himself against the headboard. He hadn't stayed with Nick in his room except for the first week out of Avalon Springs, but after a nightmare this bad, he wasn't taking any chances. It was a sign of how upset Nick was that he didn't object to Warrick "babysitting."

Propping a pillow behind his head, Warrick dropped a reassuring hand on Nick's shoulder. He listened closely to Nick's breathing and only when it had grown deep and even did he allow sleep to overtake him as well.

Warrick stretched as he emerged from the deepest part of sleep and then smiled when a warm body snuggled closer to his side. When he surfaced enough to register that the other person was also male, he was vaguely surprised, but not disturbed. When he was a bit more awake, he realized it was Nick pressed against him, at which point Warrick Jr. took a definite interest in the situation.

Although Warrick knew he ought to get up and return to the living room, Nick was sleeping soundly after a restless night and Warrick didn't want to risk waking him by moving.

That's what he told himself, anyway.

He was drifting back into sleep when a drowsy "hey" brought him to his feet next to the bed in an instant.

Okay, he didn't really notice anything, Warrick told himself frantically. He's half-asleep. He couldn't notice much.

Nick was sitting up and looking at him with a puzzled smile. "Rick?"

Warrick forced a smile of his own, "Didn't know where I was for a minute there." Nick nodded but didn't look entirely convinced, so Warrick got himself out of there. "I'm just gonna grab a quick shower," he said and left the room.

The shower wasn't exactly a quick one, after all. Warrick decided to take extra care of Junior that morning so that nothing unexpected popped up for the rest of the day. When he was done, he walked into the kitchen to find that Nick had made a pot of coffee even though he still didn't drink it himself.

Nick was sitting at the table reading the paper. He glanced at the clock when Warrick emerged, then got up. "What's your definition of quick, man?" he teased before going into the bathroom.

Warrick thought it was patently unfair that such an innocent jibe could create so many not-so-innocent images in his mind's eye. Sighing, he poured himself a cup of coffee and tried to distract himself with the sports section.

Nick went from the bathroom to the bedroom before returning to the kitchen dressed in a button-down shirt and chinos. He poured himself one of his giant glasses of orange juice and joined Warrick at the table. "I've got my session with Dr. Kane today."

"Oh shit," Warrick winced.

"What?"

What?! Hell, after you tell him what I pulled yesterday, he won't just tell you not to depend on me as much, he'll tell you to cut off contact with me. "That should be a really intense session."

"No kidding. I hadn't told him about my brilliant plan," Nick spun his glass a little. "But that's not what I wanted to say. I was planning this week to start driving myself to Dr. Kane's, but I'm not sure that's a good idea today."

"Of course I'll drive you. I always do."

"Yeah, you do," Nick shot him a quick smile. "So you want to grab some breakfast before we go or have lunch after?"

"Better grab something now. Might not have an appetite after it's done." Warrick wasn't sure whether he meant Nick or himself.

They were able to put Nick's "more time alone" plan to a real test over the next several days.

One side effect of the new inter-shift cooperation was that more commonalities were being found on cold cases that days or graveyard had never compared notes on. Rookie Kyle Rosewood switched off day shift long enough to join Grissom and Greg in wrapping up a string of bank robberies that had their beginnings in the previous year. Sara teamed with Sofia and Hal Westbrook to track down the source of escalating home invasions, and on and on.

So when Sofia handed him the file from a cold case and sent him to a briefing with graveyard, Warrick didn't think anything of it. He certainly didn't expect to find himself in the middle of a case involving a serial who had killed annually for the last five years, or to be facing a deadline to prevent a sixth murder. It took a triple and two doubles, but they finally managed to get enough for an arrest during one of Warrick's regular swing shifts.

During those four days, Warrick was only at Nick's to sleep and occasionally eat. Nick seemed to adjust well to being alone much of the time. Although he still had visits from his colleagues, they were much shorter now. Nick's only real problem now seemed to be finding ways to fill his time and more than once, Warrick would wake up to find Nick going over case files he'd brought from work. Nick said that he thought this current case was the work of a female killer.

Seeing that Nick no longer needed full-time company, after they'd caught the serial, Warrick mentioned being able to return to graveyard. Sofia told him to use his day off to catch up on his sleep and come in for his old graveyard shift after that.

With that news and the prospect of a day off, Warrick returned to Nick's in a good mood. He found Nick in the kitchen with the makings of a massive hoagie spread out on the counter, and immediately joined him. "Enough fixings for me?"

"Should be," Nick grinned, handing Warrick a knife. "I heard you finished your case. Got an arrest."

"Yeah, and it was a woman, so you called that one. Where did you hear we'd closed it?"

"When David called me tonight," Nick opened up four different kinds of sliced meat he'd picked up from the deli. "I guess that other than your case, things were pretty dull in the lab."

"David? Phillips?" Warrick laughed as he spread mustard on the bottom half of his sandwich. "He called you?"

"Not Super Dave. David. Hodges?"

Some of Warrick's good mood evaporated.

"So you go back to graveyard next week, yeah?"

Warrick began shredding the lettuce with unnecessary force. "Hodges is just all in my business, isn't he?" Because that's what was pissing him off. Not the fact that Hodges phoning Nick to chat was apparently nothing out of the ordinary.

Nick laughed. "Don't feel bad, Rick." He slung a friendly arm around Warrick's shoulders. "It sounds like Hodges knows--" he broke off when Warrick stiffened and then stepped away. "Warrick..."

"What?"

A sigh. "We're gonna have to clear a few things up here, man."

Warrick assumed the most bland expression he could muster to hide his rising panic.

"Y'know," Nick frowned. "Even though I can't tell what's behind your poker face, I know when it is your poker face."

Dropping his knife and wiping crumbs off his hands, Warrick turned and leaned against the counter. "Okay, so what's up?"

Nick shoved his own sandwich further back on the counter. "First off, I don't want to sound like an ungrateful jerk, Warrick. I know better than anyone everything you've done, and believe me, I appreciate all of it."

"But..." Warrick prompted.

"But," Nick took a deep breath. "Something has been weird ever since I left the hospital. Not when I'm freaking or anything--you've always got my back then, but when things are--should be--normal, it's off."

"Yeah?" Warrick kept his voice light. "Sorry, not following."

"Warrick," Nick's frown deepened. "Okay, if...if you're uncomfortable around me, you don't have to stick around anymore. I've been doing a lot better. Hell, you've already gone above and beyond, man."

Warrick felt his stomach sinking. "Uncomfortable? What're you--trippin'?"

"Come on, Warrick," Nick was getting exasperated. "Just now when I put an arm around you. And you just about killed yourself jumping out of bed a few days ago because you'd fallen asleep next to me. Just...I can tell it's a weird thing for you and that's no big deal. It's a weird thing for me sometimes, too. But I don't want it to mess up our friendship if we can help it, so..."

"Wait. Now you've really lost me," Warrick said honestly.

"When I asked you to take that stuff out of my old place so my parents wouldn't see it," Nick said with another sigh.

Warrick did his best to stifle a smile.

"I was still pretty messed up, but I remember you being kinda strange the next day--which, hey, that's perfectly understandable, but--dammit, Warrick! What are you laughing at?"

Because Warrick was laughing. There may have been a little hysteria edging it, but it felt good nonetheless. "You think I got a problem with what I found in your dresser drawer?"

"I'm not saying you're judging or anything, but I can see it being weird for you." A flush hit Nick across his cheeks. "Look, I've just been...I just started admitting it to myself over the past few years, even though I've never actually...but I mean, I'm not gonna--even if I find someone attractive, if I know he's not interested, I'm not going to--to try anything."

Did he just say he was attracted to me? "So you're--what? Gay? Bi?"

"Gay. I think. I'm pretty sure. Mostly." Nick squirmed slightly. "It's just that...I never considered not going out with women even though I didn't really...I mean, there were a few guys in college, but never anything more than--I mean, some making out before I chickened out..."

Warrick watched in astonished amusement as Nick somehow managed to embarrass himself into silence. "So I'm guessing that you never picked up anything about me."

"About..?" Nick pointed at Warrick. Warrick nodded. "You're..?"

"Gay? No. Bi."

Nick stared at Warrick as he digested this. "Have you..? I mean with..?"

"Not so much since college. Been sticking with the ladies." Then with a wolfish smile, he added, "Had the occasional night out with the guys, though."

"Guys?" Nick's eyes were huge.

"Figure of speech."

"Oh." Nick's brow creased. "Then...so you weren't freaked when you found..."

"Surprised, not freaked."

"But..." Nick chewed his lip. "I didn't imagine it, Warrick. You've been acting differently around me--especially lately."

"Well, yeah." Warrick gathered his courage. "It wasn't because anything about you bothered me. I was just trying not to--" He leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against Nick's. "--do that."

Impossibly, Nick's eyes got even bigger. "You've been wanting to...how long?"

"I've been waiting to since that little errand of yours. I've probably been wanting to for a few years."

"Whoa." Nick's lips parted in amazement and Warrick thought briefly that no man should look so desirable while obviously poleaxed. The dark eyes darted around the kitchen before returning to Warrick's. "Again, yeah?"

Warrick smiled at the hopeful note in his voice and leaned in for a longer kiss. He cupped Nick's cheek gently and Nick sighed happily, wrapping his arms around Warrick's neck.

Although a bit surprised at how completely Nick gave himself up to the kiss, Warrick was more than happy to go along. He moved his hand from Nick's cheek to cradle the back of his head and pulled Nick more fully against him with the other.

The kiss deepened and softened by turns and Warrick's hands slid easily along Nick's back and sides, inviting Nick to explore as well. He was concentrating on the tender skin of Nick's throat and barely registered that his hands were cupping Nick's ass until he felt Nick startle against him, and then settle again.

"Umm...Warrick?" Nick's voice was breathless in his ear.

"Hmmm?" Warrick had found a particularly tasty spot near Nick's pulse point.

"Maybe we should--ohhh, that's...um...put the--put the food away."

He'd been half-expecting to hear "move to the bedroom," and this oddity got Warrick's full attention. "What?" he asked, pulling back slightly to look at Nick.

Nick's face was flushed. "We aren't going to eat right now, are we?"

"You want to stop so you can clean up?"

"This stuff needs to go back in the fridge."

Warrick was on the verge of being very insulted until he saw the trepidation in Nick's eyes. He realized that even under the best of circumstances--without the trauma he was recovering from--Nick would probably be nervous in this situation. "Okay," he let his lips ghost softly over Nick's forehead and moved away slightly, giving Nick whatever space he needed.

With a shy smile, Nick moved around him to start putting the food away.

Although he had no problem with taking things slow, Warrick discovered right away that being so close to Nick without touching was too much to ask at this point. He distracted Nick from his task more than once with a caressing hand or soft lips, but the delays were well worth it, as Nick went readily into his arms again once he was finished.

After several more kisses that moved from heated to lazy and back again, Warrick murmured, "You want to move this somewhere else, Nicky? The couch? Or the bedroom?"

Nick's breath hitched, "Umm...I don't--I'm not sure..."

"Hey," Warrick stroked Nick's cheek gently. "Do you know what 'slow down' means, Nicky?"

"Of course I do," Nick looked bemused.

"So do I," Warrick assured him. "So we have nothing to worry about."

The dark eyes grew velvety soft before drifting shut as Nick pressed forward for more kisses. "The bedroom," he whispered while Warrick's lips traced his jaw. "Yeah. Bedroom."

Their steps to the bedroom were halting at best, mixed in with soft touches and more kisses. Nick halted just inside the room and Warrick wrapped both arms around him from behind. "You okay, Nicky?" he murmured, nuzzling an ear.

"Mmhmm..." Nick leaned back against the taller man.

Warrick tugged Nick's shirt from his waistband and ran his fingers over the warm skin. Nick drew in a long breath and lifted his arms when Warrick tugged his shirt up and off. Turning Nick to face him again, Warrick traced the sculpted chest that hadn't suffered even though Nick still hadn't been back to the gym.

Nick shivered and toyed with the hem of Warrick's shirt then looked up at him questioningly.

Warrick grinned and helped Nick strip his shirt off, then held his breath as Nick carefully explored his skin, first with his fingers and then with his lips. He tried to keep still under Nick's touch, but it wasn't easy. Eventually, he gave in and drew Nick's head up for more kisses. Slowly, he led Nick toward the bed and sat down. "C'mere, babe," he hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Nick's jeans and tugged Nick closer until he was standing right beside the bed.

"Umm..." Nick shifted uncertainly.

"S'matter, Nicky? You never got around to anything like this in college?"

"No...uh...we just...we just..." Nick watched in fascination as Warrick's nimble fingers made quick work of his belt.

"So you college boys just stuck to kissing, huh?" Warrick took his time, sliding Nick's belt free slowly. "They pretty good at it?"

"I used to think so," Nick replied absent-mindedly, his entire attention focused on Warrick's hands.

"Nice, Nicky. Good line," Warrick grinned up at him as he unbuttoned and unzipped the faded jeans.

Nick swallowed hard, but remained still when Warrick pushed his jeans down to the top of his thighs. Warrick mouthed Nick's straining cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs and Nick's eyes slid shut. "Oh...god..."

"You can call me that if you want," Warrick smirked and pulled the briefs down as well. Nick's cock sprang free and Warrick eagerly licked the length, reveling in the musk and other tastes that were purely Nick. Feeling rather smug about Nick's heartfelt groan, Warrick went to work, keeping one hand around the base while the other gripped a firm cheek to hold Nick in place. He alternately sucked on the tip or swallowed nearly the entire length, just to see what range of sounds he could elicit from his new lover.

There was quite a multitude, and even more gratifying was the way Nick's knees buckled slightly before he caught himself. "Jesus, Warrick...I can't--" he twined his fingers in Warrick's hair and thrust forward.

Warrick put both hands on Nick's hips and held him still. While he had no problem with sucking Nick off and even looked forward to it, that wasn't what he wanted to happen right now. He released Nick from his mouth and after one last kiss, he pulled back. Nick was bewildered until Warrick began pulling his jeans all the way down, and then helped by stepping--a bit unsteadily--out of them.

Although he allowed Warrick to draw him down on the bed, Nick was obviously somewhat uncomfortable. He started to move to cover himself, then halted, which Warrick found both amusing and endearing considering what had just transpired between them. Hoping Nick would feel more at ease if he weren't the only one naked, Warrick stood up and quickly stripped off his jeans and shorts as well. He heard Nick's sharp intake of breath and froze, realizing their positions had just reversed and Nick might feel pressured to return the favor. "Hey, Nicky, don't worry about it," Warrick murmured.

Nick leaned forward slightly, so that Warrick could feel the rapid puffs of breath against his cock. Moistening his lips with his tongue, Nick glanced up at Warrick through his lashes. Whatever else he'd been planning to do had to be abandoned as Warrick fell on him with a low growl.

Warrick had meant to let Nick try whatever he wanted, but that innocent look and Nick's habit of wetting his lips had both figured into his fantasies too long for him to hold onto his control now.

"But you--I didn't..."

"Next time," Warrick bit down on Nick's ear, turning any further protests into moans of pleasure.

They both shifted further onto the bed, Nick's hands running eagerly over the muscles of Warrick's back as they bunched and loosened. Warrick managed to slide a hand between their sweaty bodies to line up both cocks in his grip and it was all over after that. The pushing and panting, the gasps and thrusts, brought them both to completion at nearly the same time.

It took a several long moments for Warrick to realize it, but even after they had finished, Nick was still gasping frantically. Immediately, he rolled off the smaller man, "Nicky?"

"No, oh no," Nick had his eyes squeezed shut. "Not now, not now..."

"Nicky, breathe."

"Warrick...I d-didn't mean t-to...th-this shouldn't be h-happening..."

"It's okay, baby," Warrick soothed, then glanced around for something to clean up with. Not wanting to leave Nick to go get a towel, Warrick decided his shorts would do. By now Nick had started to shake as well, so Warrick kept his movements slow and gentle as he cleaned Nick off, then did a quicker job on himself.

"Dammit..." Nick tried unsuccessfully to keep his voice steady. "Th-there's no r-reason..."

"Ssshhh..." Warrick soothed. "Don't try to stop, baby. Just go with it." Despite Nick's trembling, Warrick managed to move them both lengthwise onto the bed and off enough blankets to cover up with. Then he got the chance to do what he'd always longed to, gathering Nick close and pressing his lips to Nick's temple while crooning words of comfort.

Nick's trembling subsided and his breathing evened out before the attack got very serious. "Oh god, Rick..." Nick burrowed closer to Warrick, hiding his face. "I feel so stupid. That--that shouldn't have happened..."

"Don't worry, Nicky," Warrick murmured, stroking Nick's shoulders and back.

"It was...I don't..." Nick's voice no longer shook, but he was obviously having trouble finding his words. "I didn't expect...Rick, that was so much more than I've felt since...since..."

Unexpectedly, Warrick felt a lump in his own throat, but it didn't show in his voice. "It's okay, babe. I just want to be sure nothing happened that you didn't want."

"Oh. No," Nick huffed a slight laugh against Warrick's neck. "I wanted it, Warrick. I wanted you. And I--"

Warrick chuckled when he felt Nick yawn. "Go to sleep, baby. Everything's good."

Nick obviously thought this was an excellent idea, because he nestled more comfortably against Warrick with a deep sigh. "Not going to scramble to get out of bed in the morning this time, are you, Rick?"

"Not on a bet, baby."

On to Parts 3 (chapters 13-18)