Fic: Facing Up..... (1/5)
Title: Facing Up…. Part One of Five
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2906
Pairings: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil, Nick and some team members
Warnings: Fluff and AU
Spoilers: Season One
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Beta: jayceepat and podga for their invaluable help in the Americanisation of the fic and their insightful comments - which I may well have ignored! I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine.
A/N: This is my take on what could have happened……and once again my friend Sarah B liked this one!
Facing up….
Nick was devastated. He felt his eyes start to fill up and unbelievably he was sure his bottom lip was starting to quiver.
“NO. NO. NO. I am NOT going to cry in front of them…him…..I. AM. NOT.” He was willing himself to maintain some semblance of control, but God he’d had enough, he really had.
He managed to regain his control and just looked up at the two men - they weren’t paying him any attention - no change there then - so he was okay and he left without making a response to them. He went to the locker room and then into the bathroom. He splashed cold water over his face and wiped a wet hand over the back of his neck.
He looked up at himself in the mirror and let out a resigned sigh. It wasn’t the way he’d ever envisaged the move to Vegas panning out but he knew, absolutely, in that very moment, it was over. He was going to get the hell out of Dodge - he smirked at his feeble joke. ‘Yeah…feeble…..like me.’ He thought.
Nick had come to Vegas after the forensic journal he subscribed to had advertised vacancies at the Las Vegas Crime Lab, He’d applied, been interviewed and he was overjoyed to be offered a position in the lab AND on the team with the great Gil Grissom.
It was a dream come true. Gilbert Grissom was a legend in the field of forensics science. He was one of the top Forensic Entomologists in the United States and was often consulted by foreign criminal agencies.
Nick wasn’t particularly enamoured of bugs but just working with and learning from Grissom was a challenge he was going to relish and do all he could to aspire to the same standards. That was a mistake.
He’d been surprised by the man, he wasn’t a supervisor then, just a senior member of the team, but even before he’d been promoted everyone deferred to him and Nick could understand why - there wasn’t anything he didn’t know.
The lab techs all had their specialties - but Grissom appeared to know as much as they did about their subjects, all of them and everything. He was a walking encyclopaedia about forensics, but if bugs were mentioned he would light up like a beacon and become a different man, almost. He became passionate. That’s not to say he didn’t appear to be passionate at other times - except that he didn’t. He was a kind man, Nick was sure, but he had no social graces, he didn’t become ‘involved’. Nick didn’t know if that was deliberate or not, but he suspected ‘not’.
Word around the lab was that he had dated here and there but never more than twice with the same woman. The only passion he had was for his bugs and the ladies weren’t going to play second fiddle to any creepy crawlies!
But, working with Grissom, as he was known by most people was a great experience for Nick and he was thirsty for knowledge and - this is what began his slippery slope to today - approval. Nick supposed it was approval as a CSI but probably also as a man.
Nick was the youngest of seven born into a powerful Texan family. His Daddy was a Judge, his Momma, an attorney, all his siblings were in high profile jobs, even his sister-in-law and his five brothers-in law. They all held professional well paid jobs; they were all ‘upwardly mobile’. Geez, even his older nieces and nephews were following the same high achieving game plan.
And, little Nicky? Well plainly a disappointment to them all. His grades were just as good as the rest of the siblings, he went to college and university, he was even a frat boy, but he could never summon up enough enthusiasm to pursue anything that they suggested, law, medicine, (the preferred options) teaching….something scholarly anyway. His tardiness at choosing a professional pathway had earned him many ‘man to man’ talks from his Daddy, and ‘we only want what’s best for you’ chats from his Momma.
They were all aghast when he signed up to be a medic, an EMT, the guy in the back of the ambulance. They ALL knew he could do better. He had, in truth, quickly, become bored with all the blood and gore - not that he was in the least bothered by it - but it was all predictable. So, he moved into law enforcement as a rookie with the Dallas PD. The family had another collective paroxysm, and again, as if to prove them all right he had become bored within a couple of years - his record was good and they wanted him to stay but something else had caught his eye - and this time he’d discovered his passion.
He’d just been nosy at first. ‘What are you doin’?’ ‘Why are you doin’ it?’ morphed into ‘Can I do anythin’ to help?’ Mostly the Dallas PD criminalists had told him to get lost but a few of them had been interested in his interest. That ‘interest’ went a long way and soon he was researching what he had to do to, how he could do it and in no time at all he was back in college doing a post graduate course in Forensic Science.
Dallas PD gave him a job again and this time he stayed focussed, and in a few months he was absolutely sure that this was what he wanted to do - he’d found his ‘professional path’. His family, naturally, thought that he was drifting and that he needed to ‘re-evaluate’ his life and make some ‘stark’ choices very quickly if he was to catch up on his family’s mission for him. It seemed no one was particularly interested in what Nick wanted.
No change there then.
He’d made excellent progress in Dallas - but he was finding his family increasingly oppressive - and there were some members of the team who resented his ‘connections’, not that he’d EVER called in a favour. (Little did anyone know that he was about the last man on the planet that HIS family would favour.) Some CSIs even resented his close relationship with the cops - they were actually portrayed as the ‘enemy’ by some CSIs.
The decision to look for a position outside Texas was very easy to make, once he’d decided that it was the best way forward. So easy in fact he couldn’t imagine for the life of him why he’d never considered it before. And that’s how he’d ended up as a CSI 1 in Vegas.
It was strange though, because, for once, his family couldn’t manage one objection, between them, to his leaving.
Nick stared at his reflection and made his mind up once more - it was easy to do once he’d decided that it was the best way forward.
He went back to the lab with a marginally lighter step and heart than when he’d walked away a few minutes earlier. He would formulate a plan and work his way towards new goals. ‘Man, he was an expert at this’.
Warrick was his best friend at the lab and it was Warrick who first noticed that something wasn’t quite right with Nick. Warrick thought that Nick was quieter than he’d ever known him to be - their banter seemed to have disappeared overnight and Nick wasn’t joking with anyone any more. If he had to put a finger on it he would have said that Nick was ‘sad’.
As far as Warrick knew Nick hadn’t had any bad news, or problems with the ladies, not that he dated much anyway, especially after that fracas with the dead prostitute. But even after that Nick had pulled himself back together and worked long and hard to redeem himself - Warrick thought that he had.
So Warrick decided he was going to discover Nick’s problem and restore the status quo.
Nick being stubborn was something no-one at the crime lab had ever seen - he was somewhat renowned for being, not exactly a pushover, but amenable and good natured and ‘willing’.
His team began to notice this new behavioural pattern - not Grissom of course, but Warrick and Catherine and even Sara. Super Dave noticed he’d become ‘Dave’, Doc Robbins became Doctor and Greg couldn’t get a rise out of Nick as much as he tried. Brass thought that Nick had suddenly become serious and Sofia, well, Sofia still fancied the pants off him!
Nick refused post shift breakfasts, offers to train in tandem at the gym, bars, bowling, every invitation issued his way was politely, but firmly, declined. This brought Warrick to his door one sunny morning. Their shift had just ended and Warrick hoped he hadn’t gone straight to bed. His truck was outside his condo, so he was in. Warrick’s banging on his door had Nick grumbling as he answered.
“What the fuck Warrick? Where’s the fire?”
This was exactly what Warrick had noticed, bad tempered Nick was a new phenomenon.
“Nick, I want to know what’s going on, this is not you, so cut the crap, and let’s get straight to the point.” He barged past Nick into his lounge area, and noticed immediately, he was a CSI after all, that Nick’s condo, which was usually spotless and tidy, was frankly, a mess.
Warrick swept his gaze around the room; there were journals strewn across the floor and the coffee table and couch. There were papers everywhere, old empty coffee cups and food plates. Nick’s computer was on and the same mess surrounded the keyboard.
“Okay Nick spill it, what’s going on?”
“Nothing ‘Rick.” Nick’s earlier outburst at Warrick had dissipated. He felt ashamed that he should have spoken to the guy, who was his closest friend, in the manner he had. But, that aside, he was not about to confide in him ‘cause he’d be trying to talk him out of it and that’d be a waste of ‘Rick’s breath and a waste of his time.
“Oh….come on Nick, I’m neither blind nor stupid and I’m worried ‘bout you.”
Trust ‘Rick to go straight for the heart strings, well Nicky boy had hardened his heart these last coupla’ weeks, seriously hardened it.
“Well there is some stuff going on ‘Rick but y’know, family stuff an’ all, and I’d rather not spill my guts just yet.” Nick hoped that he’d told a convincing lie and followed up with “…you wanna drink man?”
Warrick was more than half way taken in with the deception, he knew it wasn’t quite the truth, but couldn’t call Nick on a downright lie.
“You got a soda?”
“On its way.”
Nick’s absence for a few seconds gave Warrick the opportunity to look around the room more closely. The journals were forensic publications. More than Nick normally had, and different publications. He wondered if Nick was researching prior to writing an article or trying to find something specific. How his family fitted in was a mystery and Warrick was sure they didn’t, Nick had never said but he had the distinct impression that Nick and his enormous family were not close - as far as he knew, Nick was the only member living outside of Texas.
Nick returned with a soda.
“Look, I’m not going to pry and I do respect your privacy, but I really hope that if you have some shit, Nick, you’ll let me help you in any way I can - you know - friends an’ all!” Warrick’s impassioned plea again gave Nick cause for a guilt trip. But he was resolute.
“If I thought you could help ‘Rick you’d be the first, man, I promise, but just now I need to keep my head down and sort stuff…okay?” This was at least the truth and Nick felt more comfortable.
They settled into a comfortable silence and then exchanged a few work stories and a few sports stories and Warrick was ready to leave.
“I meant what I said Nick.” He said as he made his way to the door.
“So did I ‘Rick, so did I.” They knocked their knuckles together and Warrick left.
Nick stood with his back to the door for a few moments and he did regret his actions, but not for long. He spent the next couple of hours cleaning his place - he’d been stupid to let it slide and cause Warrick to become suspicious.
The next ‘concerned for Nick’s welfare’ visit was Catherine. It actually wasn’t a visit; they were on their way back from a crime scene and had pulled up at a diner in desperate need of food and drink, not to mention a bathroom break.
They’d had their coffees and were waiting for their order when Catherine went for the same ‘subtle’ approach as Warrick.
“What’s going on Nicky, you’ve changed these last couple of weeks into someone I don’t recognise?” she looked him straight in the eye and fully expected him to tell her everything there and then.
“I’ve had all this from ‘Rick, Cath, and I’ll tell you the same. I’ve gotta loada stuff goin’ on with family and I’m trying to sort through it. It’s kinda personal Cath and I ain’t ready to share yet!” Nick thought his delivery was slicker than before, he’d practised and he was more forceful than he’d been with ‘Rick.
Catherine took about three seconds to disbelieve him. “Bullshit Nick, I don’t think your family would bother you like this, you’ve never said anything about them, never given any indication that you’re close or even that you’re in touch with them!”
Nick was stunned, he’d thought he’d been slick and had been caught on the first ball. He had no chance to regroup because his face betrayed him.
“I, I, I……” he began, “Cath…..” he tried again. “It’s personal Cath, real personal…” he was back on track now, “….I’ve gotta problem, you’re right, it’s not my family, but it is personal and I can’t tell you Cath, I’m sorry but I can’t.” His delivery had got stronger as he’d continued. This had the benefit of being the truth and he was employing his little boy lost demeanour that usually worked well on women, but did that include Catherine?
“I see Nick.” This was in a much more sympathetic tone.
It had worked! “Actually you don’t Cath, you don’t see, and I’m afraid that at this…stage… I can’t tell you…but I will soon, I promise.” Nick thought that he had turned the tables in his favour.
“If you promise Nicky” she said, sincerely.
“I do.” He replied, knowing that they would all know when he was good and ready to tell them and not a moment before.
Nick tried to modify his behaviour to fend off these attacks, but his mood made it impossible and he couldn’t lift his mood as much as he tried. Two weeks later he took three days personal time, citing ‘family reasons’ to Grissom, who seemed unconcerned at the short notice of the request. ‘Another time I won’t be missed’, was Nick’s thought on the matter.
It was eight weeks after his ‘epiphany’ that Nick delivered his news, just to Grissom at first. Just before he was leaving work, late, one morning, he strode purposefully into Grissom’s office, he’d expected him to be there - he was. He put the white envelope on the desk in front of Grissom.
“My resignation, Grissom.” He said, and turned and left. He was secretly, no not secretly, happy, because, for the first time in weeks (months), he had a face aching grin plastered across his face, at the stunned expression on the unflappable face of Gil Grissom.
He was happy. He kept telling himself that he was and that should have been enough. It wasn’t, of course, because he had coveted his position at the elite LVPD lab. To be part of Grissom’s team had meant everything to him when he’d arrived. He knew he’d screwed up, pulled some mind bogglingly stupid stunts, he’d be a fool not to acknowledge that, but he’d worked hard to rebuild his credibility, he really had, but for nothing, because in the end he might not have existed, his hard work meant nothing and it looked as if his family had been right all along.
He’d ignored their advice, chosen his own career path, not ‘professional’ in their sense of the word and he’d prove them right.
He got home and made himself a drink, a JD over ice - his preferred method of inducing an alcoholic haze. He lay on his couch, toed his shoes off and stared at the ceiling. He was ‘professional’ alright, a professional fucker up of his life. The tears that he’d fought hard to contain all those weeks ago, started to fall, scalding hot down the side of his face and into his ears. He gave in and curled up onto his side and sobbed and sobbed, he couldn’t recall ever feeling so ‘empty’; it seemed he’d had what he wanted for the first time in his adult life and it had just slipped through his fingers. He pressed his face into a cushion and was wracked by his sobs.
He must have fallen asleep. The next thing he knew he was waking up to banging on his door. Without thought he dragged himself to his feet and walked over and opened the door.
End of Part One
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2906
Pairings: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil, Nick and some team members
Warnings: Fluff and AU
Spoilers: Season One
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Beta: jayceepat and podga for their invaluable help in the Americanisation of the fic and their insightful comments - which I may well have ignored! I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine.
A/N: This is my take on what could have happened……and once again my friend Sarah B liked this one!
Facing up….
Nick was devastated. He felt his eyes start to fill up and unbelievably he was sure his bottom lip was starting to quiver.
“NO. NO. NO. I am NOT going to cry in front of them…him…..I. AM. NOT.” He was willing himself to maintain some semblance of control, but God he’d had enough, he really had.
He managed to regain his control and just looked up at the two men - they weren’t paying him any attention - no change there then - so he was okay and he left without making a response to them. He went to the locker room and then into the bathroom. He splashed cold water over his face and wiped a wet hand over the back of his neck.
He looked up at himself in the mirror and let out a resigned sigh. It wasn’t the way he’d ever envisaged the move to Vegas panning out but he knew, absolutely, in that very moment, it was over. He was going to get the hell out of Dodge - he smirked at his feeble joke. ‘Yeah…feeble…..like me.’ He thought.
Nick had come to Vegas after the forensic journal he subscribed to had advertised vacancies at the Las Vegas Crime Lab, He’d applied, been interviewed and he was overjoyed to be offered a position in the lab AND on the team with the great Gil Grissom.
It was a dream come true. Gilbert Grissom was a legend in the field of forensics science. He was one of the top Forensic Entomologists in the United States and was often consulted by foreign criminal agencies.
Nick wasn’t particularly enamoured of bugs but just working with and learning from Grissom was a challenge he was going to relish and do all he could to aspire to the same standards. That was a mistake.
He’d been surprised by the man, he wasn’t a supervisor then, just a senior member of the team, but even before he’d been promoted everyone deferred to him and Nick could understand why - there wasn’t anything he didn’t know.
The lab techs all had their specialties - but Grissom appeared to know as much as they did about their subjects, all of them and everything. He was a walking encyclopaedia about forensics, but if bugs were mentioned he would light up like a beacon and become a different man, almost. He became passionate. That’s not to say he didn’t appear to be passionate at other times - except that he didn’t. He was a kind man, Nick was sure, but he had no social graces, he didn’t become ‘involved’. Nick didn’t know if that was deliberate or not, but he suspected ‘not’.
Word around the lab was that he had dated here and there but never more than twice with the same woman. The only passion he had was for his bugs and the ladies weren’t going to play second fiddle to any creepy crawlies!
But, working with Grissom, as he was known by most people was a great experience for Nick and he was thirsty for knowledge and - this is what began his slippery slope to today - approval. Nick supposed it was approval as a CSI but probably also as a man.
Nick was the youngest of seven born into a powerful Texan family. His Daddy was a Judge, his Momma, an attorney, all his siblings were in high profile jobs, even his sister-in-law and his five brothers-in law. They all held professional well paid jobs; they were all ‘upwardly mobile’. Geez, even his older nieces and nephews were following the same high achieving game plan.
And, little Nicky? Well plainly a disappointment to them all. His grades were just as good as the rest of the siblings, he went to college and university, he was even a frat boy, but he could never summon up enough enthusiasm to pursue anything that they suggested, law, medicine, (the preferred options) teaching….something scholarly anyway. His tardiness at choosing a professional pathway had earned him many ‘man to man’ talks from his Daddy, and ‘we only want what’s best for you’ chats from his Momma.
They were all aghast when he signed up to be a medic, an EMT, the guy in the back of the ambulance. They ALL knew he could do better. He had, in truth, quickly, become bored with all the blood and gore - not that he was in the least bothered by it - but it was all predictable. So, he moved into law enforcement as a rookie with the Dallas PD. The family had another collective paroxysm, and again, as if to prove them all right he had become bored within a couple of years - his record was good and they wanted him to stay but something else had caught his eye - and this time he’d discovered his passion.
He’d just been nosy at first. ‘What are you doin’?’ ‘Why are you doin’ it?’ morphed into ‘Can I do anythin’ to help?’ Mostly the Dallas PD criminalists had told him to get lost but a few of them had been interested in his interest. That ‘interest’ went a long way and soon he was researching what he had to do to, how he could do it and in no time at all he was back in college doing a post graduate course in Forensic Science.
Dallas PD gave him a job again and this time he stayed focussed, and in a few months he was absolutely sure that this was what he wanted to do - he’d found his ‘professional path’. His family, naturally, thought that he was drifting and that he needed to ‘re-evaluate’ his life and make some ‘stark’ choices very quickly if he was to catch up on his family’s mission for him. It seemed no one was particularly interested in what Nick wanted.
No change there then.
He’d made excellent progress in Dallas - but he was finding his family increasingly oppressive - and there were some members of the team who resented his ‘connections’, not that he’d EVER called in a favour. (Little did anyone know that he was about the last man on the planet that HIS family would favour.) Some CSIs even resented his close relationship with the cops - they were actually portrayed as the ‘enemy’ by some CSIs.
The decision to look for a position outside Texas was very easy to make, once he’d decided that it was the best way forward. So easy in fact he couldn’t imagine for the life of him why he’d never considered it before. And that’s how he’d ended up as a CSI 1 in Vegas.
It was strange though, because, for once, his family couldn’t manage one objection, between them, to his leaving.
Nick stared at his reflection and made his mind up once more - it was easy to do once he’d decided that it was the best way forward.
He went back to the lab with a marginally lighter step and heart than when he’d walked away a few minutes earlier. He would formulate a plan and work his way towards new goals. ‘Man, he was an expert at this’.
Warrick was his best friend at the lab and it was Warrick who first noticed that something wasn’t quite right with Nick. Warrick thought that Nick was quieter than he’d ever known him to be - their banter seemed to have disappeared overnight and Nick wasn’t joking with anyone any more. If he had to put a finger on it he would have said that Nick was ‘sad’.
As far as Warrick knew Nick hadn’t had any bad news, or problems with the ladies, not that he dated much anyway, especially after that fracas with the dead prostitute. But even after that Nick had pulled himself back together and worked long and hard to redeem himself - Warrick thought that he had.
So Warrick decided he was going to discover Nick’s problem and restore the status quo.
Nick being stubborn was something no-one at the crime lab had ever seen - he was somewhat renowned for being, not exactly a pushover, but amenable and good natured and ‘willing’.
His team began to notice this new behavioural pattern - not Grissom of course, but Warrick and Catherine and even Sara. Super Dave noticed he’d become ‘Dave’, Doc Robbins became Doctor and Greg couldn’t get a rise out of Nick as much as he tried. Brass thought that Nick had suddenly become serious and Sofia, well, Sofia still fancied the pants off him!
Nick refused post shift breakfasts, offers to train in tandem at the gym, bars, bowling, every invitation issued his way was politely, but firmly, declined. This brought Warrick to his door one sunny morning. Their shift had just ended and Warrick hoped he hadn’t gone straight to bed. His truck was outside his condo, so he was in. Warrick’s banging on his door had Nick grumbling as he answered.
“What the fuck Warrick? Where’s the fire?”
This was exactly what Warrick had noticed, bad tempered Nick was a new phenomenon.
“Nick, I want to know what’s going on, this is not you, so cut the crap, and let’s get straight to the point.” He barged past Nick into his lounge area, and noticed immediately, he was a CSI after all, that Nick’s condo, which was usually spotless and tidy, was frankly, a mess.
Warrick swept his gaze around the room; there were journals strewn across the floor and the coffee table and couch. There were papers everywhere, old empty coffee cups and food plates. Nick’s computer was on and the same mess surrounded the keyboard.
“Okay Nick spill it, what’s going on?”
“Nothing ‘Rick.” Nick’s earlier outburst at Warrick had dissipated. He felt ashamed that he should have spoken to the guy, who was his closest friend, in the manner he had. But, that aside, he was not about to confide in him ‘cause he’d be trying to talk him out of it and that’d be a waste of ‘Rick’s breath and a waste of his time.
“Oh….come on Nick, I’m neither blind nor stupid and I’m worried ‘bout you.”
Trust ‘Rick to go straight for the heart strings, well Nicky boy had hardened his heart these last coupla’ weeks, seriously hardened it.
“Well there is some stuff going on ‘Rick but y’know, family stuff an’ all, and I’d rather not spill my guts just yet.” Nick hoped that he’d told a convincing lie and followed up with “…you wanna drink man?”
Warrick was more than half way taken in with the deception, he knew it wasn’t quite the truth, but couldn’t call Nick on a downright lie.
“You got a soda?”
“On its way.”
Nick’s absence for a few seconds gave Warrick the opportunity to look around the room more closely. The journals were forensic publications. More than Nick normally had, and different publications. He wondered if Nick was researching prior to writing an article or trying to find something specific. How his family fitted in was a mystery and Warrick was sure they didn’t, Nick had never said but he had the distinct impression that Nick and his enormous family were not close - as far as he knew, Nick was the only member living outside of Texas.
Nick returned with a soda.
“Look, I’m not going to pry and I do respect your privacy, but I really hope that if you have some shit, Nick, you’ll let me help you in any way I can - you know - friends an’ all!” Warrick’s impassioned plea again gave Nick cause for a guilt trip. But he was resolute.
“If I thought you could help ‘Rick you’d be the first, man, I promise, but just now I need to keep my head down and sort stuff…okay?” This was at least the truth and Nick felt more comfortable.
They settled into a comfortable silence and then exchanged a few work stories and a few sports stories and Warrick was ready to leave.
“I meant what I said Nick.” He said as he made his way to the door.
“So did I ‘Rick, so did I.” They knocked their knuckles together and Warrick left.
Nick stood with his back to the door for a few moments and he did regret his actions, but not for long. He spent the next couple of hours cleaning his place - he’d been stupid to let it slide and cause Warrick to become suspicious.
The next ‘concerned for Nick’s welfare’ visit was Catherine. It actually wasn’t a visit; they were on their way back from a crime scene and had pulled up at a diner in desperate need of food and drink, not to mention a bathroom break.
They’d had their coffees and were waiting for their order when Catherine went for the same ‘subtle’ approach as Warrick.
“What’s going on Nicky, you’ve changed these last couple of weeks into someone I don’t recognise?” she looked him straight in the eye and fully expected him to tell her everything there and then.
“I’ve had all this from ‘Rick, Cath, and I’ll tell you the same. I’ve gotta loada stuff goin’ on with family and I’m trying to sort through it. It’s kinda personal Cath and I ain’t ready to share yet!” Nick thought his delivery was slicker than before, he’d practised and he was more forceful than he’d been with ‘Rick.
Catherine took about three seconds to disbelieve him. “Bullshit Nick, I don’t think your family would bother you like this, you’ve never said anything about them, never given any indication that you’re close or even that you’re in touch with them!”
Nick was stunned, he’d thought he’d been slick and had been caught on the first ball. He had no chance to regroup because his face betrayed him.
“I, I, I……” he began, “Cath…..” he tried again. “It’s personal Cath, real personal…” he was back on track now, “….I’ve gotta problem, you’re right, it’s not my family, but it is personal and I can’t tell you Cath, I’m sorry but I can’t.” His delivery had got stronger as he’d continued. This had the benefit of being the truth and he was employing his little boy lost demeanour that usually worked well on women, but did that include Catherine?
“I see Nick.” This was in a much more sympathetic tone.
It had worked! “Actually you don’t Cath, you don’t see, and I’m afraid that at this…stage… I can’t tell you…but I will soon, I promise.” Nick thought that he had turned the tables in his favour.
“If you promise Nicky” she said, sincerely.
“I do.” He replied, knowing that they would all know when he was good and ready to tell them and not a moment before.
Nick tried to modify his behaviour to fend off these attacks, but his mood made it impossible and he couldn’t lift his mood as much as he tried. Two weeks later he took three days personal time, citing ‘family reasons’ to Grissom, who seemed unconcerned at the short notice of the request. ‘Another time I won’t be missed’, was Nick’s thought on the matter.
It was eight weeks after his ‘epiphany’ that Nick delivered his news, just to Grissom at first. Just before he was leaving work, late, one morning, he strode purposefully into Grissom’s office, he’d expected him to be there - he was. He put the white envelope on the desk in front of Grissom.
“My resignation, Grissom.” He said, and turned and left. He was secretly, no not secretly, happy, because, for the first time in weeks (months), he had a face aching grin plastered across his face, at the stunned expression on the unflappable face of Gil Grissom.
He was happy. He kept telling himself that he was and that should have been enough. It wasn’t, of course, because he had coveted his position at the elite LVPD lab. To be part of Grissom’s team had meant everything to him when he’d arrived. He knew he’d screwed up, pulled some mind bogglingly stupid stunts, he’d be a fool not to acknowledge that, but he’d worked hard to rebuild his credibility, he really had, but for nothing, because in the end he might not have existed, his hard work meant nothing and it looked as if his family had been right all along.
He’d ignored their advice, chosen his own career path, not ‘professional’ in their sense of the word and he’d prove them right.
He got home and made himself a drink, a JD over ice - his preferred method of inducing an alcoholic haze. He lay on his couch, toed his shoes off and stared at the ceiling. He was ‘professional’ alright, a professional fucker up of his life. The tears that he’d fought hard to contain all those weeks ago, started to fall, scalding hot down the side of his face and into his ears. He gave in and curled up onto his side and sobbed and sobbed, he couldn’t recall ever feeling so ‘empty’; it seemed he’d had what he wanted for the first time in his adult life and it had just slipped through his fingers. He pressed his face into a cushion and was wracked by his sobs.
He must have fallen asleep. The next thing he knew he was waking up to banging on his door. Without thought he dragged himself to his feet and walked over and opened the door.
End of Part One