Love The Way You Lie (Two) **fixed**
Title: Love The Way You Lie (Two)
Author: Nat
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,941
Pairing: Gil/Nick, Nick/Lady Heather (say what!?)
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes and occasional cameos by other cast members.
Warnings: Adults only, please.
Spoilers: None yet.
Disclaimer: You know the "I don't own these two" drill, so I won't bore you.
Unbeta-ed: I'm too busy to spell check. I do my best.
Summary: Gil and Nick have an unusual relationship, which takes an unfortunate toll on Nick, who finds an unexpected shoulder to lean on.
A/N 1: This is a little on-off I wrote a while ago, and I thought in light of the fact that I didn't have anything else to post I would post it. Currently in the process of fleshing it out!
A/N 2: It get's a little rough in here...
I heard her voice coming through the house, even if at first I couldn’t place where it was coming from or even who it was. But she was calling my name and moving towards me. I could feel myself slipping from consciousness and strangely enough I wasn’t scared or even disturbed by it. It was warm and gentle. It didn’t feel jarring or painful in the way I expected it to. It wasn’t until I saw her enter my room and realized I couldn’t move that I got a little freaked out. She came towards me in a flash, her black coat was kinda flying behind her and I think the drugs made it look like she was moving in slow motion even if I knew she wasn’t. She lifted my head off of the pillow, and I realized I couldn’t move to even look at her once she changed the position of my head. She set me back down on the pillow and I could faintly hear her rifling through the bottles that I had left on the bedside table, some of them hit the floor as she did. I heard the rustling of paper as she inevitably discovered the letter I had written. “No. Damnit, Nick. No.” She was repeating over and over. Or maybe it was just ringing over and over again in my head. Then she lifted me off the pillow again. Forcefully this time. Really, I wasn’t sure where the strength to lift me came from - she couldn’t weigh more than 115 pounds. If that. She pushed me forward until I damn near buckled in the middle, and I still found myself strangely unable to move. Then she was grabbing my head and shoving her fingers into my throat. Without any real convulsions or even much of a gag reflex that I could notice I started heaving and throwing up all over the bed. Even through all that she was still forcing her fingers into my throat until my heaving was all dry. She had succeeded in clearing my stomach. She rolled me onto my side and I heard her dial 911 and calmly state something I didn’t understand at the time. And I could only hear some of it. “Emergency…I think I gave him something…fell down the stairs.” I figured I wasn’t hearing her correctly and as I started to get a little less fuzzy I started to realize that she had probably just emptied my stomach of enough of the poison I had put there. “Nick, can you hear me?” She was asking over and over, and I could hear her. I just couldn’t figure out a way to let her know that. She was lifting me up over her shoulder, struggling against my dead weight until we both fell over the side of the bed. She rolled me onto my back and felt around my neck as if she was checking my pulse. She probably was. I was able to blink my eyes and move them enough that I made eye contact with her. She was holding my face and moving it a little when she noticed me looking at her. “There you are. Stay with me, Nick.” She moved away from me and then grabbed both of my wrists above my head. She was dragging me. She was huffing and puffing and I was still barely able to even push my feet along. I could make out the hallway that led to the staircase. She stopped just as she got me to the top of the stairs. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
Pieces of what had happened the night before were coming back to me a little at a time. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to remember them all. I closed my eyes for awhile longer, hoping I could just sleep. But I was starting to dream the memories, too, so that wasn’t doing me much good. I opened my eyes again and noticed she was still there. Heather. In the same clothes she had on the night before…so she probably hadn’t left.
“Hi.” She whispered to me as she scooted in closer to the hospital bed.
“Hi.” I managed to answer. Not sure what else I could possibly say to her. I winced a little as I tried to sit up straighter in the bed, and she moved pretty instinctively to help me - or at least make sure I was ok. I pushed onto the mattress with both hands and felt a shooting pain through my right arm. I looked down under the sheet and realized it was bandaged at the wrist, so I lifted it to inspect it…unsure of how the hell that had happened.
“I’m sorry about that.” Heather whispered as she grabbed the side of the wrist I was inspecting. Then I noticed her look down at my legs which were covered by the hospital sheets. “And I’m sorry about that, too.” I was slowly moving from a little confused to totally baffled. I lifted the sheet a little and noticed I had a brace over my left leg.
“What the hell…”
She looked like she was about to answer me, but the flying body of Catherine Willows that came bursting through the door interrupted her before she could interrupt me.
“God damnit, Nick. Here you are. Are you ok?” Catherine flocked to the side of the bed in a mess before she realized that Heather was there. She stopped short and glared at her from the opposite side of the bed. “What the hell is she doing here?”
Heather stood from the bed and made very little eye contact with Catherine, instead she just glanced down at me.
“I’ll be right outside.” And she left. Catherine watched her leave and then turned to me with an overbearing mama kinda look about her.
“Ok, Nick. I’m not going to ask you why she was your house. But what the hell? The attending doctor said if you had gotten here five minutes later it would have been five minutes too late. He also said that Heather Kessler admitted to accidentally giving you some drug cocktail that knocked you on your ass and caused your fall down the stairs. Accidentally, my ass. What is it with you men and that…woman.”
She pushed me down the stairs. And took the heat for whatever the tox report would have shown. The pieces were starting to fall into place.
“Nick? Are you listening to me?”
I turned to face Catherine, I thought I had mostly heard what she had to say.
“Sorry. Just a little out of it.”
Catherine shrugged, and I think she let her feathers unruffled a little bit.
“You really scared us. Sara’s at your house as we speak.”
Fuck. Sara’s at my house. Here’s hoping she isn’t too thorough. But she finds that note, and it’s all over.
“I’ll let you rest. Call me? Please? When you’re ready to leave?” Catherine ran her hand over my head and let it rest on my shoulder for a minute before I thanked her. I saw her glance at Heather in the hallway before she walked back down it. And it wasn’t a moment before Heather slipped back into the room. Her arms were crossed across her chest like she was hiding something.
“Catherine told me what the doctors said.”
“I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t know what your department’s policy on suicide was, but I figured it wasn’t pretty.”
“You could get yourself into some trouble if they think you were trying to kill me.”
“Yeah, I figured you could help me with that part.”
She smiled at me and cocked her head, I could tell she was impressed that she managed to keep everything under control. And she was right. She had told the doctors I was ill and she gave me something that she thought would help. All I would have to do would be to tell them it was an honest mistake. And since I had survived, hopefully the tox screen would just be on my blood work and not my vomit. I thought I should probably thank her, but I didn’t. She sat back down at the side of the bed.
“Why did you come lookin’ for me?” That was the biggest mystery of all. How she even knew where I lived. She sighed and relaxed in her chair as she crossed her leg.
“Grissom called me. He told me you had spoken and that he tried to get a hold of you several times and he couldn’t reach you, so he was worried. I told him to just give you some time. A few hours later he showed up at my house. He was a wreck. He told me he had gone to your house and knew you were home but not answering him. I tried to calm him down but it was useless. He asked me if I thought your behavior was normal and I told him yes. But I knew it wasn’t. So after he left, I followed him. He drove back to your house. He didn’t stop. I did.”
“I guess I should thank you.”
“I’ve been where you are, Nick. I know how it feels. I was coming to your house last night to talk to you. I’m glad I found you when I did. And I know that you’re confused right now. I know you feel lost. I know you feel like you failed. I’ve been there. You worked my case, you know I have. And I will help you through this.”
I watched her as she spoke. It was like I could hear her words even if I tried not to listen. I nodded and choked on a little sob. She was right. She took my hand. There was something odd about bonding with her…especially when I stopped to think about what it was that had bonded us in the first place. This woman who I had judged to incorrectly and blown off so frequently in the past as a fucked up sex kitten. I held her hand.
“I want you to come home with me. I can help you, Nick. You can get through this. You’re strong.”
I blinked back the tears I felt welling in my eyes and tried to smile slightly, but it just wouldn’t happen.
“How do you get past something like this?” I asked her, sure my voice was so fragile that it would break. And I finally mustered the guts to look at her, only to see her eyes were as wet as mine were.
“You don’t get past things like this. Things like this become part of who you are, and you learn to accept them.”
“Does…he know?” As I let myself wonder about him, I let the tears that had been pooling in my eyes go. I couldn’t really stop them if I wanted to.
“I don’t know, Nick.” She squeezed my hand and I started to think back to all the things I had written in the letter I left. The letter addressed to him. The fucking letter. I sat up in bed.
“I need to get out of here. Fast. I need to get to my house…I need to get…”
Heather pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and held it up in front of me. She had the letter. I guess she was right to be content in her control of the situation.
“Relax, Nick. The doctor’s will be in shortly to have you sign off on some paperwork. And you can go. But to my home. Not yours.”
Author: Nat
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,941
Pairing: Gil/Nick, Nick/Lady Heather (say what!?)
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes and occasional cameos by other cast members.
Warnings: Adults only, please.
Spoilers: None yet.
Disclaimer: You know the "I don't own these two" drill, so I won't bore you.
Unbeta-ed: I'm too busy to spell check. I do my best.
Summary: Gil and Nick have an unusual relationship, which takes an unfortunate toll on Nick, who finds an unexpected shoulder to lean on.
A/N 1: This is a little on-off I wrote a while ago, and I thought in light of the fact that I didn't have anything else to post I would post it. Currently in the process of fleshing it out!
A/N 2: It get's a little rough in here...
I heard her voice coming through the house, even if at first I couldn’t place where it was coming from or even who it was. But she was calling my name and moving towards me. I could feel myself slipping from consciousness and strangely enough I wasn’t scared or even disturbed by it. It was warm and gentle. It didn’t feel jarring or painful in the way I expected it to. It wasn’t until I saw her enter my room and realized I couldn’t move that I got a little freaked out. She came towards me in a flash, her black coat was kinda flying behind her and I think the drugs made it look like she was moving in slow motion even if I knew she wasn’t. She lifted my head off of the pillow, and I realized I couldn’t move to even look at her once she changed the position of my head. She set me back down on the pillow and I could faintly hear her rifling through the bottles that I had left on the bedside table, some of them hit the floor as she did. I heard the rustling of paper as she inevitably discovered the letter I had written. “No. Damnit, Nick. No.” She was repeating over and over. Or maybe it was just ringing over and over again in my head. Then she lifted me off the pillow again. Forcefully this time. Really, I wasn’t sure where the strength to lift me came from - she couldn’t weigh more than 115 pounds. If that. She pushed me forward until I damn near buckled in the middle, and I still found myself strangely unable to move. Then she was grabbing my head and shoving her fingers into my throat. Without any real convulsions or even much of a gag reflex that I could notice I started heaving and throwing up all over the bed. Even through all that she was still forcing her fingers into my throat until my heaving was all dry. She had succeeded in clearing my stomach. She rolled me onto my side and I heard her dial 911 and calmly state something I didn’t understand at the time. And I could only hear some of it. “Emergency…I think I gave him something…fell down the stairs.” I figured I wasn’t hearing her correctly and as I started to get a little less fuzzy I started to realize that she had probably just emptied my stomach of enough of the poison I had put there. “Nick, can you hear me?” She was asking over and over, and I could hear her. I just couldn’t figure out a way to let her know that. She was lifting me up over her shoulder, struggling against my dead weight until we both fell over the side of the bed. She rolled me onto my back and felt around my neck as if she was checking my pulse. She probably was. I was able to blink my eyes and move them enough that I made eye contact with her. She was holding my face and moving it a little when she noticed me looking at her. “There you are. Stay with me, Nick.” She moved away from me and then grabbed both of my wrists above my head. She was dragging me. She was huffing and puffing and I was still barely able to even push my feet along. I could make out the hallway that led to the staircase. She stopped just as she got me to the top of the stairs. “I’m sorry, Nick.”
Pieces of what had happened the night before were coming back to me a little at a time. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to remember them all. I closed my eyes for awhile longer, hoping I could just sleep. But I was starting to dream the memories, too, so that wasn’t doing me much good. I opened my eyes again and noticed she was still there. Heather. In the same clothes she had on the night before…so she probably hadn’t left.
“Hi.” She whispered to me as she scooted in closer to the hospital bed.
“Hi.” I managed to answer. Not sure what else I could possibly say to her. I winced a little as I tried to sit up straighter in the bed, and she moved pretty instinctively to help me - or at least make sure I was ok. I pushed onto the mattress with both hands and felt a shooting pain through my right arm. I looked down under the sheet and realized it was bandaged at the wrist, so I lifted it to inspect it…unsure of how the hell that had happened.
“I’m sorry about that.” Heather whispered as she grabbed the side of the wrist I was inspecting. Then I noticed her look down at my legs which were covered by the hospital sheets. “And I’m sorry about that, too.” I was slowly moving from a little confused to totally baffled. I lifted the sheet a little and noticed I had a brace over my left leg.
“What the hell…”
She looked like she was about to answer me, but the flying body of Catherine Willows that came bursting through the door interrupted her before she could interrupt me.
“God damnit, Nick. Here you are. Are you ok?” Catherine flocked to the side of the bed in a mess before she realized that Heather was there. She stopped short and glared at her from the opposite side of the bed. “What the hell is she doing here?”
Heather stood from the bed and made very little eye contact with Catherine, instead she just glanced down at me.
“I’ll be right outside.” And she left. Catherine watched her leave and then turned to me with an overbearing mama kinda look about her.
“Ok, Nick. I’m not going to ask you why she was your house. But what the hell? The attending doctor said if you had gotten here five minutes later it would have been five minutes too late. He also said that Heather Kessler admitted to accidentally giving you some drug cocktail that knocked you on your ass and caused your fall down the stairs. Accidentally, my ass. What is it with you men and that…woman.”
She pushed me down the stairs. And took the heat for whatever the tox report would have shown. The pieces were starting to fall into place.
“Nick? Are you listening to me?”
I turned to face Catherine, I thought I had mostly heard what she had to say.
“Sorry. Just a little out of it.”
Catherine shrugged, and I think she let her feathers unruffled a little bit.
“You really scared us. Sara’s at your house as we speak.”
Fuck. Sara’s at my house. Here’s hoping she isn’t too thorough. But she finds that note, and it’s all over.
“I’ll let you rest. Call me? Please? When you’re ready to leave?” Catherine ran her hand over my head and let it rest on my shoulder for a minute before I thanked her. I saw her glance at Heather in the hallway before she walked back down it. And it wasn’t a moment before Heather slipped back into the room. Her arms were crossed across her chest like she was hiding something.
“Catherine told me what the doctors said.”
“I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t know what your department’s policy on suicide was, but I figured it wasn’t pretty.”
“You could get yourself into some trouble if they think you were trying to kill me.”
“Yeah, I figured you could help me with that part.”
She smiled at me and cocked her head, I could tell she was impressed that she managed to keep everything under control. And she was right. She had told the doctors I was ill and she gave me something that she thought would help. All I would have to do would be to tell them it was an honest mistake. And since I had survived, hopefully the tox screen would just be on my blood work and not my vomit. I thought I should probably thank her, but I didn’t. She sat back down at the side of the bed.
“Why did you come lookin’ for me?” That was the biggest mystery of all. How she even knew where I lived. She sighed and relaxed in her chair as she crossed her leg.
“Grissom called me. He told me you had spoken and that he tried to get a hold of you several times and he couldn’t reach you, so he was worried. I told him to just give you some time. A few hours later he showed up at my house. He was a wreck. He told me he had gone to your house and knew you were home but not answering him. I tried to calm him down but it was useless. He asked me if I thought your behavior was normal and I told him yes. But I knew it wasn’t. So after he left, I followed him. He drove back to your house. He didn’t stop. I did.”
“I guess I should thank you.”
“I’ve been where you are, Nick. I know how it feels. I was coming to your house last night to talk to you. I’m glad I found you when I did. And I know that you’re confused right now. I know you feel lost. I know you feel like you failed. I’ve been there. You worked my case, you know I have. And I will help you through this.”
I watched her as she spoke. It was like I could hear her words even if I tried not to listen. I nodded and choked on a little sob. She was right. She took my hand. There was something odd about bonding with her…especially when I stopped to think about what it was that had bonded us in the first place. This woman who I had judged to incorrectly and blown off so frequently in the past as a fucked up sex kitten. I held her hand.
“I want you to come home with me. I can help you, Nick. You can get through this. You’re strong.”
I blinked back the tears I felt welling in my eyes and tried to smile slightly, but it just wouldn’t happen.
“How do you get past something like this?” I asked her, sure my voice was so fragile that it would break. And I finally mustered the guts to look at her, only to see her eyes were as wet as mine were.
“You don’t get past things like this. Things like this become part of who you are, and you learn to accept them.”
“Does…he know?” As I let myself wonder about him, I let the tears that had been pooling in my eyes go. I couldn’t really stop them if I wanted to.
“I don’t know, Nick.” She squeezed my hand and I started to think back to all the things I had written in the letter I left. The letter addressed to him. The fucking letter. I sat up in bed.
“I need to get out of here. Fast. I need to get to my house…I need to get…”
Heather pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and held it up in front of me. She had the letter. I guess she was right to be content in her control of the situation.
“Relax, Nick. The doctor’s will be in shortly to have you sign off on some paperwork. And you can go. But to my home. Not yours.”