A sore point chapter 7
After the shift was over, Nick got to his place a little after 7:00 A.M. It was early, for once the lab was dead and all his cases were finished and solved. He was in the shower and had just lathered up his hair to wash it. He rubbed his fingers hard into his scalp then ran his fingers through the short black wet hairs. He had his portable CD player turned on in the bedroom, playing a cd that Greg had made him a while back. He loved his country music, but the wild haired younger man’s taste is music was growing on him. Stokes leaned against the wall when he heard Greg’s favorite song come on, ‘I’m not alright.’ He let out a sigh. “Neither am I.” He thought to himself.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his eyes start to burn from the shampoo running down into them. He leaned into the hot spray of water to rinse his hair. The hot water pouring down his body felt so good, it put him into another trance until he heard a noise, like glass breaking and a thump. He pulled his head back out from under the water and listened. There was a strange noise coming from his bedroom. He hurried and finished rinsing his hair and grabbed a towel to dry off a little then wrapped the soft fabric around his waist. Just as he was about to open the door he smelled the odor, smoke. He looked down and saw smoke coming into the bathroom from under the door. Panic set in. He grabbed the door knob and opened it up and was horrified to find his bedroom engulfed in flames. The thick smoke came rushing into the small bathroom, fogging up the room and burning his already stinging eyes. The Texan took a step out of the bathroom to escape, but found the whole room was over taken by the fire. Just then his smoke alarm started ringing. He turned back into the bathroom and shut the door but the room was already full of thick heavy smoke. He turned around and saw the small window, his only escape from being burned to death or over come by smoke inhalation. He started choking on the thick dark stuff that filled the room as he slid the window open. The CSI grabbed the hamper and moved it under the window to climb up on. That’s when he realized he was only wearing a towel. He grabbed his dirty boxers from inside the hamper and quickly put them on his still damp body. He climbed up onto the hamper and crawled out of the window. His body dropped to the ground hitting it hard, knocking the wind out of him and making breathing even more difficult. He heard the sirens and knew that help was on the way.
The next thing Stokes knew, he was sitting on a gurney wrapped up in a blue blanket in front of the blazing hotel with an oxygen mask stuck to his face, feeding him pure oxygen. He saw Warrick talking to a fireman over by his place. He kept thinking about how the fire could have started. He had done nothing wrong that he could think of. He didn’t have any candles, or anything that heated up. He didn’t even have a coffee pot. He took in a deep breath feeling his lungs returning to normal and he was breathing easier.
“Are you okay?” Greg’s voice shook him from his thoughts.
“Um, yeah I think so, just a little smoke inhalation, nothing too bad. I think I got lucky.” Nick was still a little dazed from the terrifying incident. His expression showed he was still in shock.
“Sara just called me. I got here as fast as I could.” Greg’s face was blood red, his eyes watery. “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you?”
“I’m fine. I’m not going to the hospital.” Nick protested.
“Nicky, you need to get checked out. Smoke inhalation could cause some serious problems down the road.”
“I’m fine, G.”
“NO you’re not.” Greg lowered his voice. “I’ll go with you.”
Nick started to argue, but Warrick stepped in. “I agree with Sanders, you need to get checked out, Nick. The fireman said you were unresponsive when they found you. He said you might have a head wound too. Go to the hospital.”
“Fine, but I’m not going in the ambulance.” Nick pulled the clear mask off his face and laid it next to him on the gurney.
“I’ll drive you.” Greg promptly offered.
Nick nodded, finally giving in. He ran his fingers through his still damp hair. “I lost everything in there. All my clothes, my cell, my wallet… all I have are my dirty boxers.”
“You have some clothes at my place, a few pairs of jeans and like four shirts.” Greg smiled. “You favorite blue dress shirt is at my place.”
“That’s good.” The sadness in the Texan’s voice let them know that it didn’t make him feel any better.
“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital then afterwards my place, you can stay with me.”
“Greg, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t fight me on this, Nicky. Please, just let me help you.” Greg shot him his puppy eyes, he wasn’t sure if they would still work on him, but he found out they did when he agreed.
At the hospital, the doctor listened to Nick’s lungs and had an MRI done to rule out any head trauma. The nurse took some blood to test his toxins and gave him a scrub outfit to wear home. The MRI showed he had a slight concussion but other than that he was okay to be released.
On the drive to Greg’s apartment, the long night of work and terrifying battle to escape the fire, caught up to Nick, he drifted off to sleep in the passenger seat with his head slumped down. At a red light, Greg stared over at the older man sleeping. He had a bad feeling that this fire was his fault too. How would he ever tell him the truth? If it was in fact the works of the psycho he had slept with, he knew he just step up from vandalism to attempted murder and he had to be stopped.
Once home, Greg lead his ex into his place and to his couch. The older CSI no sooner hit the soft cushion and he was out. Greg was dead tired too, from working long hours and spending every free minute he had, looking for the man who was causing havoc on his ex boyfriend’s life. He grabbed his pillow and curled up on his love seat, he needed to be close to Nick. Nearly eleven hours later the Texan woke up to the smell of fresh brewing blue Hawaiian coffee and pancakes. As he pushed up off the couch, he noticed he still had on the light blue scrubs that the nurse had given him and he still smelt like smoke. He stumbled into the kitchen and found Greg at the stove flipping French toast.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Greg asked, as he grabbed a mug from the counter and offered it to him. “Coffee?”
“Stiff, sore and smoky.” Nick answered. He stepped closer to the younger man to accept the mug of coffee. “Thanks for… being with me and letting me crash here.”
The younger man smiled. “No need to thank me, I don’t mind at all.” Greg picked up the plate of pancakes and made his way in to the table. He sat the plate in the middle of the table that was set up for breakfast for two. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Nick took his seat across from his ex. He piled a stack of French toast onto his plate then covered them in syrup. “I need a shower.”
“I put the clothes you had here in the top drawer of your old dresser. I also found a few pairs of boxers and some socks that are either yours or mine, but you can have them.”
“Thanks, Greg. It means a lot to me that you’re doing all this for me.”
Greg’s stomach tightened when he thought how Nick would take what he was about to tell him. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be so thankful after hearing how this whole terrible event was probably his fault. “Stop thanking me, Nicky.” Greg laid his fork down and lowered his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to tell you something, please don’t hate me.”
Nick grinned. “I think you know by now that I could never hate you.”
Greg fiddled with his fingers trying to compose himself and think of how to say what he needed to say. “The fire was my fault.”
“What, no it wasn’t.”
“I think it was. I’ve been searching for Paul.” Nick got a confused look on his face when he heard the name. “Paul Grenville, the man who fucked up your truck and… the rat. I found him here in Vegas at a bar.”
“When? Why is this first I’m hearing about it? Was he arrested?”
Greg shook his head. “No he wasn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I approached him and asked nicely for him to turn himself in. I told him I knew it was him and we had evidence. I tried to fix this Nicky... but.”
Nick could see the fear on the younger man’s face, “But what?”
“He is how I got the new look on my face.”
“He beat you up? Why didn’t you get back up?”
“I tried to reason with him and when I grabbed my cell to call for patrol… that’s when he hit me. I’m so sorry, Nick. I totally fucked up again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Because I failed you, again.” Greg wiped the tears from his eyes before they escaped. “I was hoping since he knew we knew it was him, he’d leave you alone, but now the fire. How else did it start?”
“We’re not sure it’s him, it could have been an accident.”
“It’s too much of a coincident. I’m sorry, Nicky. I just keep ruining your life.”
“Greg, quit apologizing, I don’t blame you for this.”
“Yes you do.” The young CSI murmured.
“I did, but I don’t anymore. You had no idea that this guy was some nutcase. I’m mad at your for other things, but not for what this guy has done.”
Greg’s cell phone rang and he answered. After a few minutes of talking, he hung up. “That was Warrick. Results proved that the fire wasn’t an accident. In fact, it was very intentional. They found a bottle that was thrown through your bedroom window, it tested positive for petrol fuel, a molotov cocktail.”
“Damn it. This guy is relentless.”Nick let out a grumble.
“Grissom suggested you take some time off, maybe go visit your parents, or at least stay in a hotel and he’ll get you police protection.”
“I’m not going to my folk’s house and worry them. I’m not running from this bastard. He brought this on now I’m going to finish it.”
Greg talked his ex into staying with him till he was able to get his own place, he owed him that. Plus his apartment complex had security cameras and a guard that patrolled the premises. Greg also sprung for an alarm system on his apartment, so he knew they were safe.