Title: GONE AWRY

Author/pseudonym: Asa Meda

Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigations

Pairing: Gil Grissom/Nick Stokes

Rating: NC-17

Status: Complete

Archive: WWOMB okay... every place else just drop me a note as to where.

Feedback: Even an old slash war horse like me wants some lovin' :-)

E-mail address for feedback: asameda@comcast.net

Series/Sequel: I don't know. I've never finished one. We'll see

Other websites: http://mywebpages.comcast.net/asameda/homepage.htm

Disclaimers: Not mine... Borrowing... Giving back... Maybe...

Summary: Sometimes first steps are more falls than stumbles.

Warnings: I didn't mean for it to happen, but the muses wanted the whole buffet set out. So... mention of child abuse (recollection). Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Description of Graphic Violence. All my stories end happily.

Gone Awry

by Asa Meda

University Medical Center. ER. Grissom had been here hundreds of times. Assignments. As he approached the entrance he took in the organized chaos around him. It was Thursday night, not quite the same as the more active weekend but a good build up. Old and young. Accidents. Illness. Violence. Grissom paused as a child ran across his path follow by a young woman holding a toddler in her arms. The younger child was unusually quite, her arm splinted. Grissom met the child's eyes and smiled reassuringly. The child blinked at him then hid her head against the woman's neck, clearly shy. Mentally he wished her well and continued his journey.

There had been a beating in an isolated parking lot behind a popular bar. Two men were attacked. One was dead. He sent Warrick to handle the scene. The other man was not seriously hurt but in need of medical attention. He came to see the second victim, question him if possible. Gather evidence.

This case, he suspected as he approached the triage station, would hold his interest more than usual. Shane's Bar and Grill was popular among the gay community so it didn't take much to speculate on the reason behind the attack.

"Gil Grissom," he introduced as he met the eyes of the nurse behind the desk. The young man returned his gaze with mild interest. "Crime Lab." He held up his shield. "I'm here to see an attack victim you got from Shane's bar?"

Mild interest turned to full attention. "Come with me," he said as he moved down a small hallway. "We isolated him once we realized who he was. There's a detective with him."

Grissom frowned, confused. "Who is he?" //Let it not be a celebrity,// he prayed.

The nurse paused as they came to the end of a row of curtains, in an area away from the main crowd of people. The faint sound of beeps reached Grissom's ears. "No one told you?"

"Told me what?" Anticipatory, he faced the young man. "What's going on?"

"That's okay, Mr. Roberts," another very familiar voice said from behind the curtain. A moment later Captain Jim Brass emerged, his expression bleak. "Gil--" He paused, looking away then back. "Nick's in there."

Grissom moved before his brain fully understood the words. His hand pulled away the thick fabric. On the ER gurney laid the unconscious form of Nick Stokes, one of his investigators. //He was off tonight,// Grissom remembered as shock filtered through his body. //First time in awhile.// His eyes scanned the injured man, taking in the wrapped forearm, the blackened eyes, the bandaged head. An EKG monitor beside the bed showed good numbers. Fluid dripped from an IV bag on the other side into Nick's uninjured arm. //My god…//

"Mr. Grissom… come on... sit down."

Someone gripped his arm then guided him, forcing him to sit. Grissom blinked. The nurse was bent in front of him, studying him closely. "You're in a little shock, Mr. Grissom," the young man said evenly. "Just relax. Nick is all right. He's got a mild concussion and a lacerated forearm along with some bruising. But that's all. He'll be all right."

All right. Grissom took a deep breath, then another. All right. "I'm all right," he said to the nurse who was now joined by a woman in a physician's coat. "I'm all right."

"I'm Dr. Maria Kensington," the physician introduced. Her dark eyes watched him speculatively. "I'm sorry you weren't told before you got here. We only just found out his identity about twenty minutes ago."

"Twenty minutes?" The call came in almost an hour ago. He looked at Brass. //How come they didn't know?//

"Nick was out of it by the time the ambo came. And the EMT's just scraped him off the ground and loaded him in." Anger swarmed in his eyes. "The assholes took his wallet and the uniforms had to chase them down. You were on the way just as I was getting here and found out. The Press were already sniffing so I had him put back here." Brass patted Grissom on the shoulder. "I didn't want to distract you while you were driving."

"He's in a deep sleep right now," Dr. Kensington reported in a low voice. "I gave him something for the pain. I'm waiting for a bed upstairs then I'm going to admit him. I want him kept for observation tonight and tomorrow. If all's well, he can go home." She walked over to her patient and checked on the equipment that monitored his vitals. "Someone will in to check on him every half hour until there's a room." She looked to Grissom. "I understand he has no family here. Can you be here... or arrange for someone? After something like this it would be better if there was a familiar face."

"I'll stay," Grissom responded without hesitation. The doctor nodded with a friendly smile then she and the nurse left. //Should I call his parents?// he wondered as he watched Nick breathe. //His brothers and sister? Should I wait for Nick to wake up and decide?// Grissom slowly closed his eyes, ordering his mind to focus. There was something more important he needed to do immediately. "Jim," he began as he stood. "I'm pulling my team from this one. We’re too close." He pulled out his cell phone and pushed a single key to speed dial his call. "Conrad? This is Grissom. I've got a situation here..."

Steady noises. Murmured voices. Nick had dreamed about... something. But the memory was fading as his body began to ache. He lay on something firm. He shifted to make himself more comfortable and frowned when he couldn't. He tried to move his hands to rub his eyes. But one hand was too heavy to lift and the other was held firmly...

"Nicky, it's Grissom. You're in University Medical. You've been hurt."

Grissom? Nick fought to regain awareness, opening his eyes in spite of the pain that lanced through his eyelids that refused to move up beyond a certain point. Grissom's blurred face was just inches from his, blue eyes bright with concern. Hurt? Nick assessed himself, feeling tightness and pounding aches. There was a fight. This guy had hit him, calling him a-- //Oh man... What the fuck did I do... What happened to--// He moved his mouth but there was a thick, nasty tasting film surrounding his tongue almost made him gag.

"Here, Nick. Drink slowly." The bed moved, raising Nick up into a sitting position with a low mechanical noise. He was in a hospital room. There was a machine by his bed. //EKG?// And an IV was in his arm. //How bad was I hurt?// His vision was blurred but he was able to notice a short thin man standing off to the side, a familiar face in casual but conservative shirt and pants. Dark rimmed glasses graced his face. //George Donaldson... Ecklie's team... shit...// He let Grissom slip the straw in his mouth and he drank a few sips, grateful for the coolness of the ice water until it ran down and hit his stomach. "The guy," he rasped, forcing control over his nausea. "I think they beat him pretty bad."

Grissom withdrew the water then grasped Nick's hand once more, the older man's skin warm against his. "The other man is dead, Nick."

Dead? Flashes of memory wafted through him. He was on the ground, stunned, his head pounding. Two guys were spitting on him, yelling. Then the other guy-- "They killed him?"

"So far as we know," Grissom confirmed. His grip on Nick's hand tightened. "Ecklie's team is handling this. George needs to ask you a few questions. Can you do that?"

Nick closed his eyes again and sank against the pillows as the shock of Grissom's news washed through him, as he fully understood what kind of situation he had gotten himself into. //They know... goddammit they know! What an idiot I am! And that guy... I got him killed...//

"Nick?" Grissom's voice was quiet and steady. "You know he needs to do this. And the sooner you talk to him the better the details. Okay?"

Nick found himself nodding, wishing that he could just crawl up and die inside. //I can't believe it... Just once... the first time... I was just curious... just wanted to know... this isn't fair!//

"Nick, I'm sorry this happened." Donaldson's voice. Nick forced his head to move against the pillow in marginal acknowledgement. George wasn't a bad guy but not good with working outside the rules. "Do you know who the other man was?"

"Don't know," he responded, inwardly irritated at how weak his voice sounded.

"You... weren't... close?" The question was asked in careful tone.

"I had never seen him before." //They think he was my date... oh man.// A violent shiver ran down Nick's spine. "He tried to help," he managed, amazed how difficult it was to talk. His tongue refused to cooperate and his face felt as if it had been smashed against a wall. //Well almost... the cement ground...//

"Nick." It was Grissom. Nick sighed and tried to relax, grateful his boss was still holding his hand, holding back the grief and hysteria that threatened to rise. He got someone killed for doing something he didn't really do... something he shouldn't have been doing. Nick wondered if Grissom would continue to be so gracious once he knew the whole story. "What happened?" Grissom urged gently.

Nick worked his mouth. More water was offered and he took the barest of sips, just enough to moisten without irritating his stomach. "I... uh... was at the bar. I was talking to this guy. We-- hit it off." Nick waited for Grissom's hold on his hand to withdraw and was heartened when it did not. "We went out... to go to his place. But this other guy came... and the guy I was with..."

//Hey Arnie! This fucking fag wanted to fucking fuck me! Can you believe it?//

"We were in the back part of a parking lot... the one near Harris'. I know I should have known better... but..." Nick tried to focus on the facts. His mind was starting to wander and knew he had to concentrate hard if he was going to be any help. "The guy I was with... he said his name was Carson. He had something in his jacket. He hit me before I knew what was going on." Nick tightened his hold on Grissom's hand, needing the Human contact to continue. "I tried to fight back... but I fell... caught my arm on something..." They kicked and spit on him. Carson raised his weapon again. "It was a pipe I think," he said vaguely. "I tried to get up then this guy came. He was yelling at them... told them to get away..." Nick shuttered.

//Christ, Carson! Another homo! Get him!//

"He tried to help me... but they went after him... Carson hit him with the pipe again and again... I couldn’t do anything." //I got him killed.// "I heard someone scream... then a siren... the two guys were yelling at each other. Then-- I don't remember."

"It's all right, Nick." Grissom voice was unusually gentle... calming. His one hand held Nick's possessively while his other hand petted over the top of Nick's head. "It's all right. You did what you could, Nicky. It wasn't your fault." Pause. "That enough, George?"

"Uh... yeah. Maybe more later... when he's ready." George's voice was professional but something in it held a note of disgust. //At me probably. One of their own is a fag. But I'm not... I didn't even...// "Nick, I mean it. I'm sorry this happened. I'll share what you said with Brass so we won't have to ask you again. And Nick... we got the bastards who did this and we're going to do everything we can to make sure they don't do it to anyone else ever again. Okay?"

Surprised, Nick's eyes drifted open. Donaldson's blurry face stared down at him with a vaguely angry expression on it. //He's upset at them. He doesn't care that I'm... that I might be...// The understanding stressed his injured brain. Nick felt his awareness begin to slip away, his heavy eyelids closed again.

"I think we're losing him for the moment," he heard Grissom say in the air around him. "Nicky... Listen to me. I'm going to be right here and if I'm not one of our team will be... they're all doing assignments now but they're all concerned about you. I promise you won't be alone. It's going to be all right..."

"Arnie Tipper and Carson Winters were denied bond today at District Court. The two were arrested almost a week ago for the slaying of businessman, Tomas Alvez, and the brutal beating of another man whose identity had not been released but is reported to be a part of the Las Vegas Police Department. The motive was first thought to be gay-bashing as the two men were found behind a popular gay bar, Shane's, in downtown Las Vegas. Now it seems it may be a case of mistaken identity, at least as far as Tomas Alvez is concerned. Reports indicate the forty year old executive, happily married and father of three, was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to stop the savage beating of the other man..."

Nick listened. His stomach twisted as the cable news station pinned up Alvez's picture, a family portrait showing his wife, an infant, and two young boys, all smiling, all representative of the "traditional" family conservative groups wanted everyone to be. Nick had managed to make himself a sandwich but the food was left untouched, long forgotten. The cable news stations were all covering it, focusing on the hate crime angle, on the "hero saving a victim from an apparent hate crime."

//Apparent.// Nick shifted as his side began to ache. He had been kicked in the stomach and the side. Not seriously damaging but enough to cause deep bruising that ached every time he moved or sat in once place too long. During the past few days he had tried to relax, tried to heal. When he was released from the hospital yesterday afternoon, Warrick and Grissom were there, bundling him into Grissom's Tahoe before the Press, camped out in another part of the hospital, caught wind. Grissom told him then that he wasn't being taken home. When the Press found out they would be there. But there was a condo unit that Warrick's friend owned that was usually rented out on a time-share basis. Warrick said his friend would let them have it for as long as they needed it. It was well maintained and well furnished with two bedrooms, two full baths, a large living area, a breakfast bar and a small kitchen. All this loaded with the up-to-date modern appliances including cable television and a computer with cable modem. Expensively cozy and secure. Safe from the Press or anyone else Nick didn't want to see.

And every evening Grissom was with him, taking over the second bedroom on the other side of the condo unit, lending a physical presence Nick found comforting and unnerving. Gil had changed his schedule, working five to six hours during the day, taking care of administrative duties, working with the Sheriff in dealing with possible Press fallout. During that time Catherine, Sara, Warrick or any number of CSI team members would show up, bearing gifts, gossip, or competition in a video game. Nick forced himself to be social, to put up the best face possible. And they helped. Their care helped. But it also left a knot in his soul, feeding his guilt. It was his own stupid actions that got an innocent man killed over something that was a lie... might be a lie...

Nick heard the anchor's tone change, introducing a new piece. The crime scene where he had been attacked had quickly become stock footage for the story. They were calling in "experts" to go "in depth" in order for the public to learn the story behind the story. Civil Rights. Gay bashing. LVPD's policy on employing openly gay men. Nick winced, terrified and fascinated. Never in his life had he ever imaged being a part of one of "those stories". But there it was. He was a victim... recalling every blow... every word... the cries of the man who tried to help...

"Fuck!" He aimed the remote and turned off the television, trembling and sick. //Fucking vultures! What do they know! They don't even know who I am!//

//But they will... probably know now. Now that the two clowns have been arraigned Grissom told you they wouldn't be able to stop your name from becoming public knowledge.// In a surge of frustration Nick threw the remote across the room, satisfied as zhe heard the satisfying sound of shattering plastic when the device hit the opposite wall. //You know what, Nicky? You've really screwed up your life, old son. All for what?// Nick wiped at his eyes, angered by his total lack of control as tears welled up. //Because you wanted to see what it would be like to be with a guy... to be with--//

Nick heard his cell phone ring. "Grissom," he hissed out loud as he grabbed the phone. The older man had been good to him, putting up with a lot since his attack. Nick wondered if he could ever tell him the truth... "Hey," he said in a friendly voice.

"Well hi there," came a completely unfamiliar voice. "This is Kelly Anderson calling from Fox Station, KLVT. I'm the producer for the News at Five. We were wondering if we could get a statement from you about your brutal attack and Mr. Alvez's death..."

//What?// Suddenly cold and shaking, Nick pulled the phone away and stared at it, noting the unfamiliar phone number on the Caller ID display. //Fox Station? Television? Oh fuck!//

He could hear the woman calling his name and switched off the phone. But almost immediately it rang again. Another unfamiliar number. //They found me!// Panic rose within his gut as he looked around. //They know who I am!// The phone went silent then rang again. "Fuck you!" he yelled at the phone then threw it, watching with only mild alarm as it smashed through the glass door on a hutch next to the kitchen, further smashing through the ornate gravy boat inside.

Then the cordless phone in the condo rang. Enraged Nick picked it up. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Nicky? It's Grissom."

//Oh Christ...// Nick sniffed, tears blurred his vision and burned down his cheeks. The adrenaline flow was leaving him, his mind and body shifting sharply downward. "I'm sorry, Gris--"

"It's all right, Nick." Grissom's voice was calm and steady, much as it had been since he woke up in University's hospital room. "Brian warned me. He said he got a call from some news station asking to confirm your identity. I'm on my way to you, Nicky. I'm about two blocks away. They told me I could use the VIP entrance. Listen to me carefully, Nick. No one can get to you without going through security. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I have to hang up so I can drive. But I'll be right there."

"Okay." Nick heard a click at the other end and felt his world fall apart. He didn't bother to control the tears flowing out of his eyes, would be a waste of time. //This is stupid! I should be able to handle this!// He put the phone back in the charger, noting how shaky his hands were. His entire body felt as if he had been beaten up again. //I'm such a wimp!// He glanced at the hutch, suddenly sorry for the damage. //Damn! I was a cop, an EMT! I would be dragging bodies out of shootouts. What's wrong with me!//

He found a pan and brush under the sink and moved as much as his body would let him to clean the glass from the floor. "Man," he said aloud to himself. "Wonder how much this costs." He hoped not too much. He hoped it wasn't a heirloom. "I can't believe I lost control like that!"

He cleaned what he could, rescuing his cell phone. It was obviously damaged but he separated the battery from the main unit anyway. No more calls there. He threw cold water over his face then sat down on the couch, staring at the blank screen of the big screen television. He had destroyed the remote, dented the wall. Of course the television could be turned on manually, the channel changed through the descrambler box. But it was just too much effort. There was nothing to see, except his name in lights. His parents would know now. He should call them... tell them...

//Fag for a son...//

Nick tensed as the door opened behind him. Instinct told him it was Grissom. And if it wasn't... he decided didn't care.

"Are you all right?"

All right? Nick twisted his head up. Grissom stood just inside the door. A grocery bag hung from his hand. His blue eyes were fixed on Nick as a frown wrinkled his brow. "Yeah... I'm great!"

Grissom lowered the grocery bag and came over to sit by Nick. His hand gently raised Nick's face while his other hand assessed the small bandage on his head. The touch was professional but somehow also personal. Nick alternately yearned to lean into Grissom's hand while the saner part of his psyche kept that urge in check. "I'm sorry you got a call before I could get to you," he said quietly. He pulled back and met Nick's gaze. "I won't be going back into work until this is done."

//Grissom taking time off? For me?// Guilt assaulted Nick. He shook his head. "I can take care of myself. I mean... I appreciate everything you... and everyone else has done. But I don't want to interfere--"

Grissom's hand covered his mouth. "Shut up, Nick. Okay?" He looked around as he got up, taking the untouched plate of food off the coffee table. His eyes roamed, resting on the hutch then the remains of the remote on the floor. He assessed Nick calmly. "I see you didn't get a chance to eat. I was going to make a few sandwiches. Do you think you could eat now?"

Nick laid his head back on the sofa, drained. "No... not hungry." Stokes heard Grissom move around. The bag was picked up then footsteps into the kitchen. "What time is it?" he asked. That was his biggest problem since the attack. His usual ability to internally sense the time of day seem to have completely disappeared.

"Nearly eleven-thirty." Grissom continued to move around, opening doors, drawers, bags. Nick caught the faint scent of deli meats. Nick involuntarily took a deep breath. His stomach suddenly came alive, making muted demands.

"Can I change my mind... on the sandwich?" he ventured.

"Of course."

Silence. Nick wanted to sleep... wanted to scream... wanted to do more damage. //And what good would that do?// "Sorry about... the remote," he said finally, deciding he hated the silence.

"I'll ask the next person coming up to bring a Universal remote." Grissom walked in with sandwiches on a plate and two bottles, one of soda and one of beer. "You can have a sip of mine but no more," Grissom offered, holding the beer out to him. "Not until you're off the meds."

Nick frowned. He was getting tired of soda but it was better than milk. He took the bottle and threw back a large 'sip' then held out the bottle. "Thanks."

Grissom seem to hesitate, blue eyes watching Nick a moment before flicking away. "You're welcome," he said distractedly as he put the food down on the coffee table along with Nick's soda bottle as he sat down. For a moment he studied the bottle he held then drank from it.

Nick watched, confused. //What's the big deal?// But his body reacted, tightening slightly as he realized his mouth had just been there... //Oh man, stop it!// He turned his attention to the food, a ham sandwich with lettuce and tomato, and let another hunger take control. He glanced back at the man sitting next to him. Grissom was reaching for a sandwich as well, his expression completely normal.

"Anything wrong?" Grissom asked as he noted Nick's gaze.

"No!" Nick glanced away and bit into his sandwich. //See? Your imagination! Now that you think you're gay, you think everyone else is too. Well you're not and neither is Grissom.//

They ate in friendly silence. At some point Grissom walked over to the television and turned it on, making no comment as the first thing that came on was a news story about the "gay bashing incident in Las Vegas". He changed stations, finally settling on the Discovery Channel. The view looked like a deep jungle with a diversity of life echoing from within. There was the steady voice of a narrator talking about life cycles of some rare butterfly.

"Do you mind?" Grissom asked as he came back to sit next to Nick.

"No. Whatever you want." Nick his head lay back again. Food had been a good idea. He felt more in control, though more intense aches and pains were starting to report in. His pain medication was beginning to wear off. Nick lifted his head and eyed the prescription bottle on the table. He was supposed to take them every four to five hours. It had been six since his last dose but he didn't like to take drugs. He could wait.

"I need to tell you something, Nick." Grissom voice was lower, firmer. Nick's eyes wandered open. "Your parents are coming in tomorrow morning," Gil stated evenly. "I'm going to pick them up from the airport."

Parents. Nick quickly sat up, shock and adrenaline fighting off any discomfort the moves caused. //I didn't call them yet. How could they be coming?// His heart pounded as he understood. "Man, they saw the news!" //And I didn't call them...//

"You know the news went national this morning, Nicky. They saw the report." Grissom's eyes were watchful, his tone lightly chided. "They called about two hours ago. Your name hadn't been mentioned yet but your mother said she had a feeling. They tried to call you at home then work. I took the call and talked to them. They are very concerned, Nicky."

//Oh god.// Nick shot off the couch, needing space, suddenly ashamed. //I didn't call them! I should have! What could I have said?// He combed his hands through his hair, wincing as his bandaged arm protested the movement. //They know... Fag for a son... but I'm not... Jesus, I'm in a hole. How do I get out?//

"Nicky, calm down. It's all right--"

"Dammit! It's not all right!" Nick faced his supervisor to vent his anger and frustration. "I didn't want them to know!"

"But they already did, Nick," Grissom reasoned. "And they were very upset. But Nick, they understood. They're not angry. They wanted to come tonight but I said I wanted to talk to you first. They're taking an early morning flight out of Dallas/Fort Worth."

//They're coming.// Nick put a hand on the wall beside him to keep steady. //They're coming. Okay... You need them and they're coming.// He shook his head and wiped the stray tears from his eyes. "Man, I've really fucked up my life!"

"Because you're gay?" Grissom cocked his head as he studied Nick. "Or because other people know?"

"I'm not gay!" Agitated, Nick started pacing again. "I'm not!" he said again as if repeating it would make it the truth.

Grissom's face took on that focused, speculative expression. Then his posture relaxed. "You're not attracted to men?"

Nick swallowed the automatic response. Grissom would know he was lying. "I-- like women. I mean I *really* like women." There... that was the truth.

"You can like women, Nick." Grissom sounded amused. "Some people would call that being bi."

Bi? Stokes grimaced. His side was beginning to feel like a wild animal had gotten a hold of him. All his pacing and moving around had irritated his bruises. And his head... "I don’t know, Gil. But I didn't mean to be at Shane's that night. I just..." //Idiot! Don't confess! Not to him!// "I don't know."

Grissom nodded at the response and pick up the small medicine bottle from the table. "Looks a bit full," he said lightly. "I think you need to take some more." He opened the pill bottle and shook out a pill. He jerked his chin towards the couch. "Come on, Nick. You can use the rest. I have some paperwork I have to finish."

Bird sounds came from the television and a different voice was introducing something about Whooping Cranes in the United States. Nick's eyes flicked to the clock on the stove in the kitchen. Just after noon. He walked back to the couch feeling deflated and somewhat contrite. He started to sit down when Grissom stopped him with a hand on his leg.

"Wait a sec. You need to be more comfortable." Grissom grabbed the two pillows Nick had used to support his back and threw them to the other end of the couch. "Lie down, Nicky," he ordered.

Nick nodded. The pain was getting sharper. His head pounded louder than his thoughts. Grissom got up as Nick lay down. A thin blanket was put over him. "Here." Grissom held out his hand. Nick took the pill. "Here." Grissom offered him the half full soda bottle. Nick took the pill and drank it down then closed his eyes and waited for the drug to take effect.

A cell phone ring made him jerk. His nerves sparked. //Not again! I thought I broke it--//

"Grissom." Gil had his own cell phone out. He raised a calming hand towards Nick as he listened intently. "Anthony? I'm Gil Grissom, Nick's supervisor with CSI."

//Anthony?// Nick nearly sobbed as he wished for instant death. Tony... his brother. His oldest brother.

"No, he's here." Gil looked Nick over. "He's nearly asleep. Did you want to talk to him?"

//No! No!// Nick's heart pounded against his rib cage as panic ripped through him. Sixteen years older, Tony was like a second father to him. Presently Anthony Taylor Stokes was a Sheriff in the middle of a small Texas city with a wife and five kids. Normal. He couldn't--

"He's doing fine," Grissom's voice continued. "They're being held without bond. I hope not." Pause. "Yes… I will." Grissom laughed a little. "I'll tell him. Nice meeting you too."

Nick heard Grissom hang up his phone. //What did he say?// he asked silently, wondering if he wanted to know. Tony's little brother was a--

"Your brother said he heard from your parents this morning," Grissom began. Nick felt his legs moved and shifted then his feet were lifted then comfortably settled on a slightly higher, softer, warmer surface. Nick raised his head. His legs were on Grissom's lap. Grissom's hands covered his sweat pant covered calves and his sock covered feet.

"Okay?" Gil asked, his expression neutral.

Nick didn't have the energy to blush. The medication was starting to work. "That's fine," he said, putting his head back. "Tony's my oldest brother." He smiled as he realized. "He's only a year older than you."

"Is he?" Grissom's hands were still but their warmth invaded Nick's body, calming him. "He wanted to make sure you were all right. He said your parents called everyone in the family."

"Damn!" //They all know!// Nick made motions to get up, needing to--

"Nick, stay still." Grissom's hands gripped his thigh and ankle, holding him in place. "Your parents wanted to be sure everyone they can think of knows that 'no comment' is the only acceptable statement any of them can make to the Press." He lightly rubbed Nick's leg in a comforting gesture. "They want to protect you."

"The Press knows about them?" //Shit! I've gotten myself in a hole and I've taken them down with me...//

"Reporters are resourceful, " Grissom said lightly, tiredly. "Your father is a State Supreme Court judge. Your mother is a well known attorney. So they didn't have to research too deeply to find them."

Nick threw his arms over his face, ignoring the pain in his left arm, the one with the stitches. "Gris... is this the part where I wake up and thank God it was all a dream?"

Grissom's light touch became a gentle massage. "This is going to work out, Nick. Everyone who counts is supporting you."

"Dammit, Gil! I didn’t do anything!" Tears escaped his eyes, rolling over his cheeks, falling lightly into his ears. The medication was eroding his control. "I mean... we didn't do anything! And I didn't do anything before..."

Grissom's hands stilled. "You never-- Nick, you've never been with a man?"

"No!" Nick tried to get up again but Grissom's strong grip stopped him. Defeated, Nick again cocooned his face in his arms, hiding behind the darkness as the dam burst within his heart. "I--I just wanted to know! I wanted to see! I wasn't thinking..."

"Shhh..." Grissom's hand lightly gripped his uninjured arm. "Nick, look at me."

"I can't!" Nick sobbed, ashamed and fearful. //If I look at him I'm going to spill the rest of it and what little I have of him right now will be gone.// "Gris, I'm sor--"

"Don't apologize!" Grissom's tone was sharp, even angry. "Nick, look at me!"

Nick gave in. He lowered his arms. Grissom was leaning sideways towards him, holding out his handkerchief. His eyes were intent, meeting Nick's like a snake seeking it's prey. "Gris--"

"Take this." Grissom waved the handkerchief. Shyly Nick took it, gingerly using it. His face felt raw now. His eyes hurt. "Now listen to me carefully, Nick. You didn't do anything wrong... though I wish you had taken more care. You've been a police officer and an EMT... now a criminologist. You should have known better." His fingers briefly brushed Nick's hand, taking the sting from his words, offering comfort. "Nick, is this the first time you were interested in men?"

//Lord no!// Nick sighed, exhaustion spreading through his body. His emotional outburst had aided the effects of the medication he had taken. "I... looked... but never..." Nick growled in frustration as he fought to find the right words to say rather than say what he really wanted to. "I just wanted to know..."

"What changed to make you... want to know?" Grissom's body had shifted, pulling back to sit normally, his hands again resting around Nick's foot.

//Oh man! Not going to answer that one!// Nick felt a final wave of stillness settle within him. He was falling asleep and was more than happy to do so. Grissom's hands moved, rubbing his foot, his ankle. Asking nothing else of him as he drifted off.

Grissom began to relax as he saw Nick drift off to sleep. He stared at the television screen but stopped paying attention. Even bugs didn't interest him at the moment. Nothing mattered beyond the man whose feet he held and the puzzle he was slowly beginning to resolve.

//I'm not gay!//

A smile crept across his lips as he remembered the denial. //Of course not, Nicky. You went to a gay bar and admitted that you "hit it off" with another man because you aren't interested?// Grissom let out a near silent snort. Classic denial. His gazed fixed on Nick's face, on the minor cuts and bruises. His mood quickly swung in the opposite direction. //God Nicky, what were you doing?// Grissom bowed his head as fatigue warred with anxious realization. //You could have been killed! And I never would have known...//

//Known what? That he was gay? Bi? Meaning what... that he would be available? Interested... in you?// Grissom sighed, quickly putting aside his fantastic thoughts. //He's a young man... unsure... confused... and hurt. He's looking to me for support.// Grissom lifted his head to study his contact with Stokes, his hands moving casually over Nick's legs. If he were a woman friend no one would question them sitting together like this, wouldn't necessarily give it sexual connotations. But he was a man... and the one he comforted was a man. People had a tendency to make all kinds of assumptions. //And in this case... in my case... they would be close to the truth.// Grissom dared a stray caress over Nick's abdomen and crouch. //But nothing will come of it. And I would never presume.//

Grissom laid his head back. Nick's parents were coming tomorrow. They sounded anxious, even a bit hurt that it had been him and not their son who told them. But they quickly rallied, quickly forgave. And Nick's brother had made it clear that if his little brother's attackers ever got bond he was to be called immediately. Grissom didn't dare ask what Tony would do with the information as he put Nick's brother's number on his speed dial. Just in case.

Nick moved, turning in his sleep, away from his injured side. Grissom gently braced Nick's legs, helping him find a more comfortable position without waking up or falling off the couch. In the end he wound up holding Stokes' thighs against his stomach. Uncomfortable but welcomed opportunity. He stared at the television screen. The life of squirrels in North America. Charming. Noise. And he didn't want to disturb Nick to get up and turn it off. So he ignored it. //Think I'll take a nap instead.// He shifted carefully and relaxed, closing his eyes, letting his fantasies out to play as his fingers move minutely over the tiny patch of expose skin between edge of Nick's shirt, displaced when the younger man had moved, and the waistband of his pants.

Nick Stokes tried to obsess the whole morning while Grissom was gone. But his visitor wouldn't let him. The personal assistant to the Assistant District Attorney was in the living room of his borrowed home. She had come just as Grissom was leaving, giving him no time to think about what his boss was doing and what would happen when he got back.

"Nick, I need you to focus."

Stokes blinked. Angela Brookes was a good-looking woman in her forties, professional but personable. She accepted his coffee and got right to work, asking questions, listening as Nick spoke. It was the first step before an official statement, a picking of his brain before he actually met with the ADA to go the next step in building and presenting the prosecution case. She began by asking him the same questions as the police. Where was he? Why was he there? What did he say? What did the other guy say? Did the other guy make his intentions clear? Did he... force himself on the other guy? Provoke him?

//Was it my fault?//

"Nick?"

"What!" Stokes was pacing across the apartment. Overall he felt better. His head felt less like a punching bag. His bruises were beginning to turn brilliant colors. His side hurt but he didn't like to take pills so ignored the discomfort. But her questions weren't helping. Reliving his attack in detail, analyzing his motives and their motives were making him even more anxious than he already was when she arrived.

"Nick... I know this is difficult--"

"You don't know shit!" He began pacing at warp speed. "I don’t want to talk about it anymore! Okay?" He knew he shouldn't be yelling, shouldn't be cursing at this woman. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't anyone's fault... except maybe his. //That Alvez guy would be alive and his two little boys would have their father--//

"Hey Nick."

Stokes jumped. //Shit!// Grissom was back. Nick swung around. Brookes was closing her case, gathering her coat. She studied him with some annoyance mixed with concern. Then she gave him a small smile and turned her head towards Grissom who stood just inside the condo accompanied by two others. //Grissom... and--// The paralegal smiled and shook hands with the new arrivals then left. As the door closed Nick felt an overwhelming urge to bolt, to follow her out, speed past her... run away to-- He focused on Grissom, frustrated and frightened.

"You all right, son?"

Dad. Nick could feel the tears welling up. His parents eyes were fastened on him, watching, concerned. Nick forced himself to gather his sanity, to put on a casual face, to greet them like always. //Hey guys! Have a good trip? Glad to see you...// Then courage left him completely as he turned away. He couldn't face them. He was so ashamed...

A hand touched his arm, turning him. He looked and found himself caught in his mother's eyes. She wasn't much shorter than he was, tall for a woman in her generation. Her gaze moved over him as if taking inventory, her fingers touched the bandage on his forehead, the bruises around his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Nicky," she said finally. She put her hands on his shoulders then pulled him against her. Nick squeezed his eyes shut as he returned the hug, determined not to give in but losing the battle a moment later as a sob escaped him as he broke down and openly wept.

"We're here now, Nicky," his mother cooed as she rocked him awkwardly. Her embrace grew tight, possessive and protective. "Your father and I are here to help."

"He's recovering though there have been ups and downs... as you saw."

Nick toweled himself dry and took off the light plastic wrapping from where it had been protecting the stitches on his forearm. His ears were on alert, straining to capture the quiet voices in conversation in the living room. After his tears ended the skin on his face felt as if it were on fire. His body ached and spasmed. His mother ordered him to take a cool shower. And it helped. Though the aches remained his face felt less irritated, his eyes less blood-shot.

"I wish he had called us." Nick winced. He and his father had always talked, always shared. //I should have called him.// He grabbed a clean pair of sweat pants and put them on. //And told him what?// He grabbed his shirt, grunting as he put it on. It still hurt but it was better. //Hi Dad. Just to let you guys know I got the shit beaten out of me by some freaks who don't like homosexuals. What? Yeah... no... Dad... I'm not... I didn't--//

There was a polite knock then Grissom's head slipped in before this body followed as blue eyes took in Nick's state of dress. Grissom himself wore jeans, t-shirt and well-worn shoes. Casual. Open. Attentive. Nick wondered for the thousandth time why his boss was taking the trouble, unconsciously torturing him with his presence. "I'm almost done." He sat down on the bed to put on his socks. These and the sweat pants and shirt were all that he'd been wearing since coming home from the hospital. Part of him wondered if he would ever get used to wearing regular work clothes again.

"I have to go out," Grissom said shortly. "Get some supplies. Let you have some time with your--"

"Don't go." Nick swallowed, silently cursing his mouth and his brain as they reacted faster than his ability to control them. He looked down at his bare foot, contemplating putting on his other sock as shame flushed through him. //Where the fuck did that come from?//

He heard the bedroom door quietly close then saw a shadow fall across the floor. "Nicky, they love you. They want to make sure you're all right." The bed dipped. Grissom's body brushed his as the older man sat down next to him. "Nick, what are you afraid of?"

Nick forgot about his other sock and stood up to separate himself from Grissom's proximity. "I'm not afraid of anything!" he defended.

"That's why you're standing in front of me acting like a caged animal? Why you're not comfortable seeing your parents alone?"

Suddenly angry Nick faced him, his raw nerves screaming from his attempts keep himself and others in line. "Don't analyze me! I'm not a suspect!" Grissom flinched and Nick immediately regretted his words. His ran his hands through his hair and over his face, wishing for the gift of invisibility. "I'm sorry, Gil!" he cried out. "I'm sorry!" He waited, knowing the man who had been nothing less than his lifeline and support over the past several days was about to get up and leave, hurt. That Nick Stokes, idiot-at-large, had crossed the line.

Grissom got up but instead of moving to the door he moved towards Nick. Nick wanted to back away but held his ground. Gil smiled a little as he stopped. His hand came up, almost brushing Nick's cheek before laying on his shoulder. "I'm going out for awhile, Nicky. I'm going to get something to cook for you and your parents tonight and take care of some calls I need to make. I should be back by three or so." His fingers on Nick's shoulder tightened. "Your parents love you. They want to talk to you." He smiled. "And I'm okay, Nick. I wasn't offended. Okay?"

Okay. Nick was breathing hard though he couldn't tell now if it was from high anxiety or Grissom's touch. //God I want him...// His heart slammed into his throat as he saw Grissom's expression change, his brow wrinkle. His hand moved from Nick's shoulder and hovered above his face before dropping away. Nick sighed, not knowing whether to be relieved or disappointed. //What's going on?//

"I'll see you later," Grissom said evenly. His expression and posture showed nothing more than friendly concern, normal. As if nothing had happened. He opened the bedroom door and walked out. Nick could see his parents standing up, his father shaking hands with Grissom, small words exchanged. Then Grissom was gone and his parents, Berle and Janet Stokes, looked back towards him with focused concerned.

And Nick realized that he was just staring at them, barely dressed, a sock in his hand, the other on his foot. With a sigh he went to the bed and sat down, quickly pulling on the remaining sock then got up and went into the living room. His father was sitting, reading the newspaper. His mother was in the kitchen, washing whatever had been left in the sink. //Just like they were home.// "Mom, I can do that--"

"I'm nearly done, Nick. I can make some coffee. Why don't you go sit with your father?"

Nick heard the firm tone in her voice. He heard paper shift and saw his father putting aside his reading and look at him expectantly. //Oh shit... they're going to "talk" to me.//

"Come on, son," his father encouraged.

//Don't I get a final meal?// Nick obeyed, easing his aching body onto the sofa, sitting as far away from his father as he thought he could get away with. His father frowned.

"Nicky, we're not angry with you," his father said quietly, almost defensively.

"I'm sorry." Nick tried to relax. His mother came from the kitchenette carrying a glass of water.

"Gil told us you probably haven't taken your medicine." She put the glass on a coaster in front of Nick then held out her hand. A small pill sat in the middle of her palm, waiting. "Knowing you he's probably right."

Nick's eyes shifted from one parent to the other then he sighed and took the pill and drank the water. His mother smiled then moved back to sit down in a chair next to the sofa. For a moment there was complete silence then his mother cleared her throat.

"Nick, why didn't you call us? Tell us? We had to hear about you on the national news." Her words were laced with hurt.

Nick bowed his head. "I--I don't know." Lie.

"Yes you do, Nicky," his mother insisted. "And we understand. But it hurt nevertheless."

//Oh man.// Nick squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the men who had attacked him had finished the job. He so did not want to be here.

"Son." His father. "How long have you... liked other men?"

Nick glanced up, shocked. //They're asking about my sex life... this is not going well at all.// "I don't know." Truth.

His father looked at his mother with that kind of silent communication children always hated. "Nick," his mother took over, her voice far less hesitant. "Your father and I want to make some things very clear to you so you understand how we feel about you and what's happened. Then you can tell us anything you don't think we understand. Clear?"

His mother sounded like she was in her "lawyer" mode, making a summation. When he was a kid this was never a good sign but, like an execution at the end of an appeals process, there was no escaping it. Nick nodded.

"First, you are our son, Nicholas Stokes. Our youngest child and one of our seven joys. When we saw the news report I knew it was you. Knew some people who had no business touching you had hurt you badly because they didn't like who you were." Her expression turned anxious. "Second. Your father and I love you no matter what. No matter who you are or who you love. I'm just sorry you felt uncomfortable telling us." She met his eyes. "Did you think we'd... reject you? That your brothers and sister would? They were very upset and angry when they heard... upset at you and angry with the bastards who did this to you. They all wanted to call you yesterday but I told them to wait until tonight. And I warned them to be patient with you."

Nick shifted uncomfortably as he took in what his parents were telling him. All his fears and assumptions had been way off base... why had he ever doubted them? //Because you're a coward, Nicky. If you said nothing, you never needed to know how they felt... and you could keep lying to yourself about what you really want.// "I don't know what to tell you," he said finally after long thought. "I've never... done anything... until... this Friday. I mean... I've always felt... something but I like women too." //Damn... I'm such a shit. Lie to my parents... my family. Get a guy killed--//

"What changed, son?"

His father's question was asked in the same way Grissom had asked last night. Only he wasn't falling asleep. He was wide-awake, in spite of the pain pill he just took. Nick stared at his father then shrugged, deciding on some honesty. "I met... someone. Only he doesn't know. And I don't know if he would be interested in me... that way. I didn't want to try without knowing how--" Knowing he was turning a pure shade of red, Nick covered his face in his hands. "Do you really want me to finish the answer?"

"Um... no..." both his parents said in unison, finally setting the limits. "Do we know him?" his mother asked, changing the focus of the discussion.

//Yes.// Still hiding his face, Nick shrugged. "Sort of."

"And you can't tell him?"

Nick groaned. "It could cause a problem... at work."

Silence answered his revelation. He ventured a glance at his parents. His father gazed at him kindly, patting him on the leg when their eyes met. His mother had an expression on her face that he recognized as deep thought. //Oh man... not good...// "Mom?"

His mother seemed to start. Her expression turned outward, regarding him with a smile. "Oh... I'm sorry, Nicky." She got up walked to the side of the couch. A moment later Nick found himself pulled against his mother as she embraced him where he sat. "Don't ever doubt us again, little man," she said, using a term of endearment she had used when he was a child. She kissed the top of his head and drew back, her eyes boring into his, her expression as serious as he had ever seen it. "You are a grown man, Nick. And none of us would dare tell you how you should behave or what you should do. But if you should ever pull a stunt like you did the other night again I'll have Tony kick your butt," she finished in her finest Texan accent. "And I know the rest of us would be holding you down while he does it. Got it?"

Nick felt gentle tears flow over his face as he smiled. "Thanks, mom," he said lightly, realizing everything was all right... as far as his family went. He looked at his father whose eyes also shown a bit. Then his eyes drifted to the door, to the two small bags there. "Hey, I'm sorry. Gil said he got the other room ready for you guys." He stood up then sat down, suddenly dizzy. The pain pill had kicked in. And now that his adrenaline surge was easing, he could feel himself starting to decline.

"Take a nap," his mother ordered. "Your father and I will make ourselves at home." Pause. "We're only going to be here until tomorrow afternoon," she said apologetically. "I could only get a forty-eight hour continuance on a motions hearing I have to attend."

"And I have to be present for an appeals hearing for a death penalty case." Nick's father stood. At just over seventy he was taller than Nick, narrower in frame. "Come on, son," he encouraged as he gently pulled on Nick's arm to get him to stand. For a moment the years peeled away and Nick let himself feel like the boy he had been, enjoying the care as his father guided him into the bedroom.

"I'll wake you up in an hour or so," his mother said. "Gil told me he left some lunch meat in the refrigerator. I'll make us something."

"Okay." Nick let himself be guided into his bedroom and put to bed. As he sighed in preparation to sleep he heard his parents quietly speaking to each other, making comments on the broken glass in the hutch, the pieces of the remote. Then he thought he heard Grissom's name mentioned several times and wondered if they had already figured it out...

It was surreal. Not in a bad way but not in a way that Nick could fully make sense of. Grissom came home by three and made the best chili Nick had ever had, though he wouldn't admit that to his mother. They talked about this and that. His sister Margaret's new baby, Nicole. His nephew's interest in law enforcement. It was as if they had dropped by for a quick visit, nothing out of the ordinary. Nick found himself smiling and laughing in all the right places but it all felt made-up, pretended but oddly good because Grissom was next to him, meeting his eyes every so often, casting a reassuring glance, even a conspiratorial wink when his parents said something revealing about Nick that Stokes himself would never thought of sharing with Grissom.

And in the midst of this were questions that left Nick wondering. Where was Grissom from? How long had he been a criminologist? What were his interests? Did he have family? Siblings? Pets? Nick wanted to stop them several times, knowing how private Grissom was, how he didn't like to reveal too much about himself. But tonight Grissom was more open than Nick could ever remember, answering their questions, though not in detail. It was a friendly exchange intermingled with normal family talk. It was comforting and odd. But Nick tried to focus on the comfort, the back of his mind tracking the fact that his parents would be gone tomorrow and he would be missing their physical presence while he dealt with this… all of this.

Towards the end of the meal there was a phone call. The ADA told them that the two attackers had agreed to plea guilty to the charges. The two had felt overwhelming guilt over the killing of a straight man with children yet still justified in their attack on Nick. However, it was an all or nothing deal. Life in prison for the charge of murder and attempted murder. With Nick's attack classified as a hate crime there would be no possibility of parole. It was all but signed and sealed. There would be no trial. Nick would not have to testify. It was over just like that as far as the justice system was concerned.

In reaction Nick's eyes filled with tears. His mother hugged him, assuring him everything would be all right now. His father hovered, his presence a comfort. And Grissom stayed seated next to him. At some point Grissom's hand was on his arm, offering a gentle squeeze. It was a simple gesture but one that helped Nick more than Grissom probably realized.

The conversation continued. His other brothers called. His sister called. Tony called back. All genuinely relieved to talk to him, all expressing their love, their anger and what happened. It was energizing, comforting and overwhelming. By nine o'clock his eyes were weighing down and his body ached, though not nearly as bad as it had been.

"Bed, Nicky."

Nick blinked. He was sitting on the couch, his body feeling like a puddle from exhaustion. Grissom stood above him, his hand held out, his eyes twinkling. "It's not a school night," he protested with a fake whine.

Grissom's lips twitched. "Come on."

Nick smiled and took his friend's hand, grunting painfully as Gil helped him to stand. He saw his father watching him, watching Grissom, a faint expression on his face Nick couldn't place but made him blush all the same. He carefully let go of Grissom and took a step aside. "Good night, Dad," he said, determined not to ruin the evening by getting anxious.

"Goodnight, son," Berle Stokes said calmly as he raised his newspaper up and began to read once again. Nick hesitated. Was he mad… uncomfortable? //You're making something out of it that's not there,// his mind commented sharply.

"Nick." Grissom's hand was on his shoulder, firmly guiding. "You're going to pass out. Come on."

Okay. Nick looked at the closed door, the bedroom where his parents were staying. His mother was taking a shower. Nick wanted to wait to say goodnight to her. Living so far away from home he rarely got the chance anymore.

"Go to bed, Nicky," his father encouraged, his eyes regarding him with a hint of amusement. "I'll let your mother know." He raised his newspaper again. "Let Gil help you."

//Let Gil help me.// Nick sighed, giving up on analyzing his own spin on what was going on. He was too tired.

He let Grissom put him to bed.

There was a sense of something not right that woke him. Grissom opened his eyes and looked around, instantly alert. He sat up on the couch where he settled after Nick's parents had gone to bed and looked back towards their bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, the room dark. Silent. Grissom swung his legs over and stood, grabbing a pair of sweat pants to put on over his boxers and padded towards Nick's room, feeling the pull of his concerns in that direction.

"Nick?" Grissom called as he entered. The room was vaguely lit by the lights of Las Vegas coming through the large picture window on the opposite side of the room. To his left the bathroom light was on and the water was running. Through the space between the door and the doorjamb Grissom could see Nick washing off his face. For a moment he thought of walking up, to ask if the younger man was all right then decided to give Nick his privacy and took a seat on the end of the bed.

Minutes later the water stopped and Nick walked out, toweling his face, stopping short as he noticed Grissom on the bed. "Gil..." His face was puffy and red, his eyes blood-shot. Crying. Grissom's expression softened as he forced himself to remain still when all he wanted to do was take the young man in his arms. Nick blinked. "Did I wake you?" he asked quietly. "I'm sor--"

"Don't apologize." Grissom watched him. "Are you all right?"

Nick stared at him as if considering his answer then shrugged, throwing his towel back in the bathroom. "Just me being a cry baby. No big deal." He wiped at his eyes then leaned against the wall next to the picture window his arms crossed in front of his chest as he faced Grissom. But the CSI supervisor could already see it was a temporary pose. The younger man's body was already becoming restless.

"You're not a cry baby, Nick. This is normal," Grissom told him. "You're going to feel a lot of things, suddenly and extremely for a long time. It's normal." He paused as he saw a curious twitch pass over Nick's face before the young body exploded in movement and began pacing around the room. Grissom watched with mild concern. This pacing was not new but its intensity was. //Did I say something wrong?// he wondered. //Nicky, how can I help you?//

"Gil?" Nick stopped dead in mid-step. He faced the picture window, his back to Grissom, watching the lights of Las Vegas glowing in the middle of the night. "I-I think we need to talk," he said finally, his voice just loud enough for Grissom to hear.

//Talk.// Grissom prepared himself, ready to hear anything Nick was willing the share. "I'm here to listen," he assured.

Nick took in a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he continued to stare out across the city. "I'm attracted to guys," he said finally, like a revelation. "I was afraid to say it before. But I have to. I don't want to lie to anyone or myself anymore."

Grissom forced himself to keep a casual pose as he cheered internally. //Admission. You're a brave young man, Nick Stokes.// "It's okay," he began in response then made a decision of his own. "I'm attracted to guys too."

Nick whirled around, his expression as shocked as Grissom had ever seen it. If the circumstances weren't so serious Grissom would have laughed. "You are?" Nick said, his tone testing.

Now Grissom did allow a smile. "Surprise," he replied, trying to ease the new spike of tension in the room. "Did you think you were alone?"

"No. I mean--" Nick slowly walked to the bed and sat down. "I didn't think you were--"

"Gay? Bi?" Grissom continued to smile, charmed by Nick's reaction. "Actually, in my case, I don't like the ladies... like that."

"Oh." Nick was clearly stunned. He ran his hands through his disheveled hair. "So I guess you're really okay with this."

//You have no idea,// Grissom commented to himself. He leaned forward, placing a hand on Nick's knee, keeping the touch friendly and detached. "I don't care, Nick. I try not to label. As long as it's two or more consenting adults it's none of my business."

Nick nodded, still surprised but more thoughtful. //And calmer,// Grissom noted with relief. //It was the right decision to tell him... I'm glad.// He pulled back then stood. His body was suddenly too aware of Nick. //Friendship,// he strictly commanded his awakening libido. //Just because he's admitted he's attracted to men doesn't mean he's attracted to me or anyone at the moment. And above all, he's fifteen years younger with his whole life in front of him. I'm a middle-aged man who's going deaf and whose body has seen better days. Not a good match no matter how much I might want it.//

"Gil?"

Grissom blinked, his cheeks burned a bit as he realized he had distracted himself. "I'm sorry, Nick. I'm more tired than I realized," he half-lied. He rubbed his eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

Nick regarded him a moment, a curious expression passing over his face, then nodded. "Gil," he began then hesitated. "Thank you," he said finally.

Grissom grinned. "Don't worry about it, Nick," he assured. "It's almost over now. With the plea agreement yesterday you'll be old news by tomorrow. Trust me. Warrick is going to come by tomorrow and take you to the doctor to get those stitches out. Then Sunday afternoon I'll help you get home." He edged towards the door, finding this to be a good place for the conversation to end. He needed to cool down and get some sleep. He had to return to work tomorrow evening now that most of this was over. He studied Nick's face, seeing some doubt wrinkle the younger man's brow. //Does he think it'll all go back to where it was before?// Grissom decided to squelch that idea immediately. "Nick... don't hesitate to come to me... to talk to me. Anytime. A week from now. A month. I mean that."

Nick's expression brightened a bit. "Thanks," he said again.

Grissom nodded and started to turn then stopped, feeling it a good time to say at least one thing he had really wanted to say since seeing Nick in the hospital all those days ago. "And Nicky... if you ever do something as stupid as you did Friday night I will personally make your life a living hell... assuming you survive."

A burst of short, sharp laughter escaped Nick. "Oh man... my parents said just about the same thing this morning."

//Bet they did.// Feeling truly relieved by Nick's good humor, Grissom cocked his head. "Well you know how us elders are... wise beyond our years... willing to teach by the school of hard knocks when inspired." He gave one last smile. "Good night, Nick."

Nick smiled brightly, something Grissom had not seen since before the attack. "Good night, Gil... thanks for listening."

"What are friends for?"

Grissom closed the door over slightly as he left Nick. He felt accomplished though a little frustrated. He wanted it all... but knew he had to settle for second best. Nick's friendship but not--

Movement caught his eye as he walked towards the couch. Shadow seem to shift in the darkened opening of the bedroom door across the unit where Nick's parents were staying. Grissom blinked. The shadow was gone as if he had never been. He thought a moment about calling out to see if everything was all right. //No... they're probably sound asleep. The lighting from the outside changed. No big deal.// He lay down on the couch and drifted back to sleep within minutes.

CNN had a breaking story. A shooting in a high school in Maryland. Five dead. Ten seriously injured. Everyone traumatized. At the same time some well-known rock star decided to overdose on a favored drug. Grissom watched as the story of Nick's attack began to take far less airtime, reduced to a quick update comment about the plea bargain and crawler space at the bottom. It was pretty much the same on the other networks, cable and local. The doorman downstairs informed him that there were only local stragglers, intern reporters who had Nick's story dumped on them "for the experience".

Grissom pointed the universal remote and changed the station back to where it had been, Animal Planet, then put the device on the coffee table in easy reach of the man slumbering on the couch. Nick was much better this morning. His bruises were ugly but less painful. Tomorrow the stitches would come out of his forearm. But more important than anything else his spirits were greatly improved. He greeted his parents with a smile and nearly finished the breakfast his mother prepared. Somewhere in there, Nick's sister called and Nick spoke and laughed. All good things. Grissom couldn't be happier.

Now, after taking his morning medication, Nick dozed as his parents got ready to leave. Grissom was taking them to the airport and Nick wanted to come. But Grissom warned him that there were still some reporters outside; that one more day would end their interest for sure. His mother firmly agreed.

"I think were ready, Gil," Berle said as he came out of the bedroom, freshly dressed, carrying the two small bags the Stokes' had brought with them. They didn't want to go, Grissom knew. But Nick was fine and they had important lives to go back to now that the crisis was nearly done.

"Nick still asleep?" Janet came out and walked to the couch. Grissom watched as the older woman simply watched Nick, was reminded of his own mother's attention. //I miss her,// he thought sadly. //Five years and I still miss her terribly.//

"Hey mom," came Nick's sleepy words as he opened his eyes when she touched his cheek. "You're going?" He got up, moving carefully to stand. "I'm glad you came," he said. "I'm okay," he assured them.

"I know," his mother said firmly. She drew her son into a tight hug. "I expect to see you at our home for Fourth of July weekend... got it?"

Nick's expression altered. "I have to work."

"No you don't," Grissom chirped in. "I think you can talk your supervisor into letting you switch out with one of the team." Nick's parents had already said something. Grissom had already spoken to Warrick. All but signed, sealed and delivered.

Nick swallowed as he studied Grissom, then he seemed to shake himself and smiled at his mother. "Okay... I'll be there."

"Good." Her eyes twinkled. "And bring a guest." She hugged him again. "Call me tomorrow. Hear?"

"Yes, Mom," Nick chimed dutifully.

"You can email me," Berle told him as he replaced Janet, drawing his son into an embrace. "Your mother likes phones... I like email. Remember that." He drew back, his dark eyes regarding Nick. "Look forward to see you in July."

Nick's eyes were turning red with unshed tears. "Same here, Dad." He glanced to Grissom. "You'll come back before you have to go in?"

"I'll try." Such was the nature of what he did... of what they all did. "If not I'll call and I'll be back tomorrow morning." Gil smiled. "Warrick's on his way here to take you to get those stitches out then I think he mentioned something about a new game… Taser Force?"

"Oh yeah?" Nick smiled suddenly excited. "He likes losing."

//Ah youth.// Grissom took the bags from Nick's father then opened the door. Time to go. "He's been practicing," he shot back. He was glad to see a hint of annoyance cross Nick's eyes. He began to walk out the door followed by the Stokes' "See you or call you later."

Just in case Grissom left via the VIP entrance. There were a few cub reporters but he went too fast for them to do more than get out of the way. The traveling was done mostly in silence. Grissom sensed that Nick's parents were exhausted and didn't try to talk to them. But about halfway to the airport Janet moved and Grissom suddenly felt her attention on him.

"Gil," Janet Stokes began. "Do you... like my son?"

Grissom jumped at the question, at the special emphasis she gave to the word "like". His hands barely kept control of the steering wheel he gripped. //She didn't mean anything,// he told himself. //You're imagining things.// "I'm his supervisor," Grissom answered calmly, honestly. "He's one of my best investigators... and a friend. I like him fine."

"Good." She seemed satisfied. "He likes you too but I think he has a hard time expressing that. He has trouble with his self-esteem sometimes."

Grissom barely kept a curse from escaping his mouth as he found himself flying through a red light, breathing in relief when no accident occurred. "Um... Janet." He glanced at the rear view mirror and saw Nick's father watching his wife with an odd expression on his face. He glanced aside and thought he could see an amused gleam in her eyes and immediately understood where Nick had inherited this charming but somewhat annoying aspect. He sighed as he missed the turn he needed for the airport and realized he had completely lost the ability to concentrate on the road. He found an appropriate place, pulled into a parking lot and shut off the engine. "I'm sorry," he said as he turned his body slightly to face Janet Stokes. "I think I'm going to make you both late for your flight."

A smile widened across Janet's face. "We'll be all right," she told him calmly. "Did I shock you?"

Shock? Grissom cocked his head, examining her as he would a suspect who suddenly did something out of character. "I honestly don't know what you're trying to say to me," he challenged lightly. Well, he did... almost. But he couldn't believe it. Not from Nick's parents. This was getting very strange very quickly and he didn't like strange.

"Do I have to go into details?" Janet shifted uncomfortably then rallied, pinning him with her gaze. "Nick is our baby. He was unexpected but very welcome. And because his brothers and sister were so much older we were able to take our time with him. I know all my children," she declared. "I know when they are happy or sad... or in love by just looking at them, even when they manage to hide it from others." She glanced back at her husband who now wore a more neutral expression as he met his wife's gaze. "I've seen the way he's watches you and I've seen the way you take care of and watch him. And though I didn't mean to... I saw you with him last night."

Grissom quickly raised a hand to stop her, embarrassed that he had been seen. "Janet, I only talked to him. He needed to say something and I was willing to listen."

"You love him," she said bluntly. "And he loves you." She glanced away then back. "Something happened when he was a child, Gil. I'm not going to tell you anything here. That's for Nicky to tell if he wants to. But in spite of our best efforts he was left a little uncertain about himself, skittish about disappointing those he wants to be close to or make demands on others. Most of the time he's managed to overcome it, hide it away, be the man he is. But in things like this..." Her eyes raked over him. "Just so you know."

Janet Stokes stopped speaking and turned to face forward, her expression calm as if nothing had been said. Grissom looked back at Berle who seemed busy looking for something on the floor. //Okay.// Feeling disoriented, as if he were waking from a deep sleep he put his keys in the ignition and started the Tahoe. "I think I know a faster way we can go," he offered as his emotions swung from confusion to an amazing sense of calm, as his brain began to process what had been said to him. Beside and behind him he suddenly felt the generational, "we know but don't really want to know", walls erect around Nick's parents. They were done discussing intimate matters concerning their child. Grissom silently agreed as he pulled back out into traffic. "But I can't guarantee I'll get there in time," he said casually.

"Oh don't worry, Gil" Janet said brightly, her eyes on the road ahead. "I understand how Las Vegas traffic can be. Berle and I will be just fine."

Warrick came about noon, protective and supportive as Nick left the condo for the first time since leaving the hospital. Nick kept his head below the dash as they drove out, his friend commenting there was hardly anyone around. After that it was as if nothing had happened. No one pointed at him. No one seemed to notice him at all. At the doctor's office his stitches were removed and he was examined. He was told he was healing well but needed to continue to rest. Nick protested when he was told to come back in a week so they could discuss when he could be released to return to work. But Warrick merely slapped him on the back and thanked the doctor as they walked out the door. Then they went to a casual diner and got lunch.

It felt almost like it did when he first came to Vegas. Everything seemed brand new and terribly familiar. But as they ate, as Warrick began to fill him in on closed cases rather than office gossip Nick finally relaxed as he began to pick up the rhythm of what had been before his attack. The first day or so he had questioned his ability to being a part of CSI. Then he wondered whether he would be accepted. But there didn't seem to be any hesitation on Warrick's part… or Grissom's. It was expected he would return, that he was needed. There wasn't a question, though Nick was not naïve. He knew there would be some who would be offended, some who would distance themselves from him. But so far it seemed that with those who counted it was all right.

Now he was back at the condo. Warrick said his friend asked if they could leave by This Friday now that the media attention was over. Nick didn't see a reason why not. He wanted to go home. He wanted things to be normal again, or at least as normal as possible. He wanted time to figure out what he understood about himself… about Grissom. //What now?// he wondered. Could he approach Grissom, risk the friendship they had formed? And then what? How experienced was the older man? Nick knew he wouldn't be able to give much to the CSI supervisor and didn't want to burden Grissom with his own ignorance. So he understood any erotic thoughts he might have about Gil Grissom would be just that, thoughts...

"Earth to Nick."

Stokes jumped. Warrick hand was on his back. They were seated side by side on the couch. The television image was dark show nothing of the wild time they had had for the past two hours, playing the new game Warrick brought. "Sorry--"

"Why do you keep apologizing?" Warrick interrupted. "You're distracted. You have a right to be distracted." He smiled and patted Nick on the back. "It'll get better." He glanced at his watch, his expression falling. "Damn… I gotta go." He stood and looked for his jacket. "Sorry, bro."

"Hey… part of the job," Nick assured though his heart sank. Warrick had been his salvation for the day. Now he would be alone without even Gil's distracting presence. "Crime calls."

"I hear that." Warrick put on his jacket. He stared at Nick and pursed his lips, a serious expression suddenly settling on his face. "Nick, I know we haven't talked about what happened… not much. I don't know how to say this so you'll take it the right way. But I love you, man. Like the brother I never had. And I don't give a shit who you sleep with. You got that?"

"Okay," Nick said, surprised by Warrick's admission, already understanding his friend's position. //What's going on?//

Warrick nodded, still serious. "Good. Because this time it was a mistake, my friend," he informed Nick. "But next time you do something stupid like that I'm going to kick your butt and I know for a fact I'll have help." He glared at him. "You got that?"

"You're the third person in twenty-four hours to say that," Nick told him feeling a bit annoyed though strangely warmed by Warrick's parental tone… the implied love he was being shown. "You'll have to stand in line."

"I'll bet." Warrick smiled. "Anyway, don't know why you wanted to do something like that when all you needed to do was look in your own backyard."

"Excuse me?" Nick couldn't believe he was hearing right.

Warrick's hazel eyes scanned him and his lips turned up in a smirk. "I'll let you stew on that, bro. I gotta go." He reached for the doorknob. "Let me know if you need--"

Warrick's voice faded as the door unexpectedly opened, revealing Grissom who bore a pizza box and some bags. Warrick grinned at his supervisor. "Hey Gris," Warrick greeted in surprise. "Thought you were going in."

Grissom shook his head. "No. Catherine agreed to handle one more shift. " He moved past Warrick and walked towards the kitchen. "I'm on beeper if I'm absolutely needed."

"Cool." Warrick grinned as he glanced at Nick. "Nick's pretty good at that game I brought. See if you can beat him."

Grissom grinned back. "Wouldn't even think about trying." He started to root through a bag. "Don't give Sara a hard time."

"Who me?" Warrick raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. "You know she loves it."

Grissom sighed. "Good night, Warrick."

"Enjoy your dinner." Warrick turned his head towards Nick and winked. "Backyards. Right, man?"

Nick stared at the door as it closed. //What the hell just happened?// His eyes moved to the kitchen, to where Grissom stood, focused on what he was doing. "Grissom?"

Grissom didn't acknowledge him. Nick frowned. "Gil," he said again. No reaction.

//I've seen this more and more lately.// Nick stepped closer ready to test a theory he had for a long time concerning Grissom and his apparent ability to completely shut everyone out without warning. "Grissom!"

Grissom's head jerked up, his eyes alert. Nick studied him, seeing a fearful expression ripple over the older man's face then settle into something more neutral. All at once all the pieces, all the evidence he had been gathering over the past couple of years snapped into place. "You couldn't hear me," he said, stunned.

Grissom stared at him. His expression grew dark. "No, I couldn't hear you."

//Man… now there's a secret.// Nick crossed his arms in front of him, part of him glad he could do that again. //Is he mad that I know?// Nick thought a moment, remembering what Sara had said to him during a case at Gilbert College of the Deaf. Grissom could sign. Wanting to stop the tension building between them Nick made a decision. He raised his hands and signed. <<Okay with me.>>

Grissom frowned. He put down what he was doing and came into the living area. "You know how to sign," he said, his tone clearly stunned.

Gratified he could have that effect on his boss Nick smiled. <<Surprise.>> he shot back then grew serious. <<My brother is deaf.>> he supplied. "Are you mad?" he asked aloud suddenly unsure.

"Why would I be mad?" Grissom cocked his head. "My mother was deaf," he supplied. "The reason she's deaf is why I'm going deaf."

"Nothing they can do?"

Grissom smiled a little. "There's surgery but there are risks. I don't think it's gotten that far yet."

Nick returned the smile. "People think you ignore them."

"Hmmm…" Grissom shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm not ready," he said simply.

"It's okay," Nick assured, glad to be the one to give comfort and support to the man who had been doing the same for him. "I'm not going to say anything. I wouldn't do that. But I can help you now that I know."

Grissom brightened a bit. "Catherine knows too… I had to tell her… during a case."

//But didn't share this with anyone else.// Nick mentally shook his head, dismissing the selfish hurt that reared its head within his mind. //It was none of my business. Grissom's got enemies. He has to be careful. And if he didn't trust me he would have lied to me, pulled rank if I had insisted.// Nick grinned then glanced over towards the kitchen, more than willing to change the subject. "You're not going in?"

Grissom's blues eyes grew intent as they studied Nick. "I wanted another night off and I thought you'd want company."

Nick heard something else in Gil's words that drew his attention. //What's going on?// "I always like company," he said positively. He walked into the kitchen and lifted the lid to one of the pizza boxes. "You got the works?"

"I didn't know what you'd like… so I figured you could pick off what you didn't want," Grissom said as he came to stand beside him. "I got beer," he added. "So long as you don't have to take any pain meds."

"No." Nick's mouth watered at the mere thought of something other than soda, coffee or water. "Not since this morning." Impatient he reached for the bag that looked like it held the beer. "Oh man," he commented in awe as he pulled up his favorite brand, nearly ice cold. //How did he know?//

"Don't guzzle it down. There's more," Grissom commanded quietly as he gave Nick a little push. "Go in. I'll bring everything out."

The meal was casual, comfortable and simple. Nick ate better than he had in days, finally feeling more like himself. Grissom put on the Discovery Channel, which was showing something about the significance of insects in ancient civilizations. Nick sat back and listened as his boss, his friend, made running commentary, his voice much easier on the ears than the narrator's. But after the third bottle beer and an obligatory trip to the bathroom Nick returned to find the television had been turned off and the coffee table cleared. Grissom sat quietly. Nick paused as he sensed a strange tension rising. "Gil?"

Grissom looked at him and smiled. "I need to tell you something, Nicky." He patted cushion next to him. "It's okay. Come and sit."

Nick's eyes narrowed. //Something's wrong.// He eased himself next to Grissom then looked at him expectantly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing bad, Nick. At least I hope not." Gil's eyes passed over him then he gathered Nick's hands into his. His expression held a hint of fear mixed with something more intent. "I didn't go in tonight because I wanted to say something then do something I've wanted to do for a long time, since you and I sat down for your evaluation almost two years ago." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Just remember, if you want me to stop... just say so." His lips brushed Nick's lightly. "I love you, Nicholas Stokes."

Surprised Nick drew back. Grissom's eyes were gentle as they watched him. Nick ran a tongue over his lips, tasting Gil. //He kissed me.// He stared at Grissom, his mouth tingling. //He kissed me.// An arresting smile suddenly graced Grissom's lips. His fingertips traced over Nick's mouth, his gaze as soft as a caress. Nick's eyes inventoried Grissom's face in a way he never did with a woman. His body pulsed with need. He leaned forward, his lips capturing Grissom's, slowly adapting to the feel of another man as his hands wandered over Grissom's shoulders.

Grissom's hands roamed intimately, knowledgeably over Nick's heated body, rousing passion between them. Nick groaned. //Oh man, this is good.// Grissom's hands were in his hair, his kiss becoming more urgent, his tongue moving between Nick's lips and teeth to delve within his mouth. Nick grunted as Grissom's weight pressed his injured side causing sharp pain. "Gil--" he gasped, pushing at the older man. "Stop…"

Instantly Grissom drew back, his flushed face and passion filled eyes watching him. "I'm sorry... too fast?"

Nick blinked, surprised to find himself on his back. Grissom's knee was planted between his parted legs. Nick shifted, patting Grissom's hand where it pressed into his side. "Hurts." Grissom sighed, lifting his hand, bracing his weight with an arm on the back of the couch. "Sorry." The mood was broken for the moment but not the passion, the arousal. He lifted his hand to Grissom's cheek, feeling the sweat and the heat. "So that's what it's like kissing a man?" he asked, trying for a kind of humor, needing the moment to breathe, to deal with what just happened before it happened again.

"No," Grissom responded in his forensic voice, his eyes glittering. "That's what it's like me kissing you and you kissing me."

//Oh.// Nick let his fingers trail down the older man's jaw then his neck. "You love me?" Nick asked as Grissom's first words wandered into his dazed mind.

Grissom's gaze traveled over Nick's face. His expression softened into something Nick had never seen before. "Yes." His hand skimmed over the cloth of Nick shirt with tentative movements. "I want you, Nick. You're a handsome man with a beautiful mind. This,"-- his hips pressed closer. His bulging crotch brushed Nick's thigh-- "is important to me but not as important as,"-- his fingers brushed over Nick's forehead, barely touching the healing cut there-- "what you have here."

"Beautiful mind, eh?" Nick shifted, allowing his own aroused cock to press against Grissom's let, revealing his matched desire, adapting to this unfamiliar communication between men. "You're the Miss Universe of minds," he teased.

Gil's brow wrinkled in confusion then smoothed as he smiled. "Don't compare, Nick. It's not like that. There are things you understand as easily as you breathe that are beyond me no matter how much I try. You have a way with people that evades me." His fingers brushed over Nick's cheek and jaw. "I depend on your insights, Nicky." His lips barely whispered over Nick's. "And I want to show my appreciation."

A shiver rippled through Nick as he finally understood. //He loves me… wants me. For real…// He closed his eyes as he shared the next kiss, his tongue taking the lead, plunging into Grissom's mouth, tasting the oregano from the pizza they had shared. He felt Gil shift, felt the heavier body press against him. Nick's body came alive as their crotches touched then he gasped as pain again ripped through him. //Oh man… I want this!//

"Okay, Nicky. I'm sorry." Grissom's weight quickly lifted off of him. Nick took a deep breath then another, as much to suppress his pain as to calm his rising passions. //Fuck!// He looked up. Grissom stood by the couch, his intent gaze studying him as if he were evidence. "We don't have to do anything… right now," Gil offered reluctantly then quirked a smile. "It's not obligatory the moment love is declared."

//No… no…// Nick swallowed. Now that it had gone this far he wanted to see it through, to know that his fantasies were real. "We can't do anything?" he asked, wincing as he heard the whine in his voice.

Grissom cocked his head as if considering a puzzle. "Maybe." He held out his hands. "Come on."

Nick wasted no time. He forced his body to move, ignored the discomfort as he sat up and stood. Grissom took his hands to steady him, to guide him towards the bedroom. Nick's perceptions sharpened, noticing everything and nothing at all. The bedroom was nearly dark as fading sunlight shone through the window. Across and below the lights of Las Vegas were coming alive, the slow beginning of this city's prime hours. Nick stared, wondering for a moment who might not make it through the night, where the night shift was going to wind up. Investigating another crime. An assault like his… a murder like--

"Ah. Ah." Grissom chided softly. "No thinking about work, Nicky-boy."

Nick's attention shifted. He met Grissom's eyes, suddenly unsure. //What am I doing?// Moments ago he wanted nothing more than to have sex with Gil Grissom. Now even his arousal was gone, replaced by a numb feeling that had no origin. //I can't do this.//

Grissom watched him, seem to notice the change. "What's wrong, Nick?" he asked quietly.

Nick turned away and shook his head as his mind crowded with different thoughts and memories. He walked with a man, scared but determined to learn what men did, to know what to do with Grissom even though he believed there would never be anything. There was the moment when he realized the betrayal, the moment he had stepped into a lethal situation. Then the cries, the screams quickly silenced by a sickening crack that repeated over and over as his attackers laughed. Nick knew he should have been home, still curious but safe… and that man would be alive. Nick's eyes squeezed shut as the tears came. //Holy shit… not now…//

Strong hands gripped his shoulders from behind. "Nick, don't hold back. It's all right to cry." Arms wrapped around Nick's chest then pulled back, providing reassuring warmth against Nick's back. "Just let me hold you, Nicky. Let me be here."

It was all Nick needed to hear as his sobs found freedom. His hands covered his face as his face burned once more with endless tears. //This is so stupid… I'm such a wimp…// He was vaguely aware of being turned, of a broad shoulder replacing his hands, pillowing his face as arms held him close to Grissom's chest. Fingers glided through his hair, gently massaging the back of his neck. Grissom's voice whispered support as Nick's whole body was gently rocked.

Nick's arms were wrapped around Grissom's shoulders, holding on as if his life depended on it. //Didn't I already get this out of me? Why am I slobbering about it again?// He sniffed, catching his breath, physically and emotionally exhausted. //I did a shitty thing and got a man killed,// his brain reminded him. //Jesus... he had a wife and kids. Now I'm just suppose to go on? Find happiness in the arms of this man? The reason I started this stupid shit to begin with?//

"I killed a man, Grissom," Nick cried out, finally giving voice to something he could no longer keep inside. "Man, I'm such a shit."

"You didn't kill anyone, Nick." Gil's voice was rough. "You didn't do anything wrong." He push Nick back just enough to bring them face-to-face. Grissom's eyes were bright with unshed tears, his expression stern. "Those men were determined to hurt someone Friday night. If not you then it would have been someone else. The man who tried to help would have tried to help no matter who it had been." His hand shook as he wiped some of the moisture from Nick's face. "I can't tell you how to feel, Nick. I can only tell you that it was not within your power to change what happened to Tomas Alvez."

Nick calmed as he listened, as the older man's steady voice soothed. His body was molded to Grissom's as they swayed together slightly, comfortably. "I'm--" He was going to apologize and stopped himself. Grissom would stop him. And what was he apologizing for? "I'm okay," he said instead.

"I know, Nicky." Grissom smiled. "Better?"

Nick met his gaze. He still felt guilty, embarrassed, shamed but he was handling it better. His hands slid over Grissom's shoulders and upper back. The earlier erotic excitement was gone but it was comfortable here, being held. In fact if he weren't standing he would be falling asleep.

"Bed, Nicky." Grissom guided him to the edge of the bed. "Sit."

Numbly Nick obeyed. //Bed.// He watched Gil take a step back. //Are we…// He was so tired. //I don't think I can.// He rubbed his eyes. "Gil, I don't think I--we can--"

"Be quiet," Grissom ordered. "Just sit there for a minute."

Nick didn't reply. He just sat. He heard running water. Gil's presence returned but Nick didn't have the energy to look at him.

A finger curled under his chin, lifting his head. Nick barely opened his eyes as a cool cloth wiped over his face. "You need to rest," Grissom said quietly. "Lie down."

Nick lay down, sinking into the mattress. His hand was taken and the cool cloth wiped over his hand then up his left arm. "This isn't what I think you had in mind tonight," he mumbled in the silence. His other arm was taken, the cool cloth moving more carefully over the healing wound where the stitches had just been removed. "I wanted to make love," he complained no longer caring how he sounded.

There was muted laughter. Grissom's presence left him again then returned. The mattress beside him rocked a little. A hand gently rested on his chest as Grissom's body lay beside him. "We are making love, Nicky." Fingers caressed his jaw line. "Go to sleep."

//Nicky.//

He shifted, groaning as the movement caused a pleasant sensation across his chest, across his thighs. Touches whispered over his hips, brushing his aroused cock, applying the lightest of pressure.

//So beautiful, Nicky. So big…//

"Mmmm…" His breathing deepened as his body tingled. It felt so good, the hand on his cock, the lips on his mouth. He remembered waking like this… the voice in his ear…. the touches…

//My beautiful boy…//

Sudden blind terror assailed Nick gasped as he heard faint echoes of a woman's voice. He was being touched in a way no one had every touched him and it scared him. It wasn't right… he had to make it stop… Make it stop--

"No! Don't!" Nick grabbed the offending hand, holding it away, making it stop-- "Don't!"

"Nick! Wake up!"

Wake up? Nick wheezed. He was awake. Sitting up. Ready to fight back--

"Nick, it's Gil! Look at me."

Gil. Air whooshed out of Nick's lungs. He blinked. Grissom's face hovered in front of him, looking alarmed and pained. //What happened?// Memories flowed into him. He had fallen asleep with Gil by his side. They had kissed… almost made love. Nick's hand was cramping and he looked down, shocked to find his fingers in a death grip around Grissom's wrist. Grissom's hand was halfway under the waistband of his sweatpants. "Holy shit!" He released him. //What the hell did I do?// He stared at his hand as a dream played through his mind. He had been asleep when it happened, when she had--

"Nick, talk to me."

Nick's gaze wandered back to Grissom who sat back on the bed cross-legged, rubbing his wrist. "I'm sorry," he said then looked away as he realized what must have happened. //I forgot to say something… I was so tired… I didn't think. Man, I just didn't think--//

"Who did this?"

Nick stared at Grissom. "Are you all right?" he asked, his EMT instincts wanting to take Grissom's hand and examine what he had done. But he knew better. Angie had freaked; her wrist was sprained. Once he told her she forgave him. But he never saw her again. "Man, I'm--"

Grissom shook his head and touched Nick's face with his uninjured hand. "I'm all right, Nick. You didn't do any damage. I'll be fine in a few minutes." His eyes examined Nick. "Answer my question."

Demand. Nick swallowed. He felt like crying but he was too shocked to produce the tears. //Damn, it had felt so good…//

"Nicky, I'm not mad. I'm not hurt." Grissom leaned closer. His hand slid up to thread into Nick's hair. "I was trying to give you a little pleasure…" He paused. "Who did this?"

Who did this. The room they sat in was dark. The lights of Las Vegas were dimming as the horizon began to gain a pasty glow. Dawn. "I'm sorry, Gil. I--I didn't mean it." His hands balled into fists as he wished he could drop dead on the spot.

Hands touched his shoulders, pulling. "Come on, Nick. Let me hold you."

Nick grunted as he moved, letting Grissom guide him back until he sat between the older man's extended legs and arms surrounded him from behind in an embrace. It should have been comforting but his stomach churned, his conscience writhed at his lack of self-control. "You're sure you're okay?" Nick finally asked. He had to know.

"I'm fine. See?" Grissom's hand came up in front of Nick's face. His wrist and forearm had red impressions wrapped around it but otherwise didn't seem to be damaged. "Please tell me," he asked.

"I was molested," Nick said, hearing his own flat tone as his mind shifted to a more clinical mode. "I was too young to go to a wedding reception… my cousin's. We're a big family so the cut off age was fourteen… I was nine. My sister's best friend was suppose to come but she got sick at the last minute so my brother Tad's girlfriend's older sister came." Nick shrugged, relaxing a little as he rested against Gil's chest. "I knew her but I didn't like her too much. She was… weird…" He shivered. "I was asleep when she--" His stomach warned him but he pressed forward determined to give Grissom the information he wanted. "She was all over me. I didn't really understand what was happening and when I tried to make her stop she held me down… threatened me. Told me if I ever told anyone she would hurt my brother… that it would make my parents mad at me… that she would tell them I attacked her…"

"Bitch," Grissom muttered. Nick raised an eyebrow. Gil didn't often curse.

"I was scared shitless but I told my parents because I was afraid she would hurt my brother anyway." Nick wiped at his face as stray tears fell. "They were great. Told me none of it was my fault. Tried to get her prosecuted but the DA at the time said that because I was a boy and she was a girl the jury wouldn't convict or take it too seriously." He remembered his father's voice, raised to an angry shout, one of the only times he ever heard his voice raised. Anger. He had made them angry… or so he believed… even when they told him it wasn't true.

"Most of the time I'm okay. I've made love to women, though it's hard to get too close for too long. But all the equipment works all right. I'm satisfied. Women are satisfied. It's just when I'm not awake." He tried to pull away, uncomfortable with his recollection. But Grissom tightened his embrace, his lips brushing the back of Nick's neck reassuringly. "I was a virgin for the longest time… and when I wasn't I made sure women knew not to wake me up… like that. But a few years ago Angie didn't listen… she didn't know. I hurt her."

"You couldn't help it," Grissom absolved, his hands slowly moved over Nick's abdomen. "I have no doubt she was all right."

"She freaked but she was okay." Nick relaxed a little. Grissom's hands were roaming, giving small pleasures as fingertips delved under his t-shirt. "When women find out they're very understanding and then they're very gone." He gasped as his nipples were brushed by calloused skin. "Gris… um… what are you doing…"

Grissom drew a deep breath, his body pressing closer. "I'll stop if you tell me to," he responded, his hands rested on the hem of Nick's t-shirt. "Otherwise, raise your arms."

Stop? The heat of Grissom's body infused Nick's. //He's not put off. He still wants me.// Nick slowly raised his arms. Grissom pulled his shirt up and over his head, exposing his chest to the cool air. Grissom's warm hands returned, sliding over his chest, carefully avoiding his right side where the deep bruise still caused him discomfort. Nick closed his eyes as Gil's lips began to explore his upper back. "Gil--"

"Shhh…" Grissom's mouth slid over his increasingly sensitive skin. "All you need to do is say no and I'll stop no matter what's going on." His hands slid into the waistband of Nick's pants. "This is for you… not for me."

Nick groaned in response as Gil's fingers found his arousing cock. //Oh man…// Grissom's lips were exploring his neck, under his jaw. "Oh yeah," he moaned as teeth lightly nipped in just the right place.

"Lie down, Nicky."

Command. Nick obeyed without thought, stifling a grunt as he rested on his back. Gil stared down at him. His eyes slowly and seductively slid over Nick's body. Then Grissom's hands followed, taking a careful journey over Nick's shoulders and chest, petting and caressing, avoiding the deep bruises. Nick closed his eyes, finally trusting, his body slowly arousing in response to the experienced touch.

"Lift your hips, Nicky."

Gil's hands rested restlessly on Nick's hips, waiting. Nick sighed and winced a bit as he lifted his hips briefly, feeling his pants lowered then removed. He was naked, completely open to his lover's scrutiny.

Lover? Nick's eyes slit open. Grissom was kneeling beside him, his expression now deeply focused, his eyes raking over Nick's body as he would a corpse on the field, though his eyes held a hint of deep desire and need that he never graced a dead body with. Nick found himself no less fascinated as he realized Grissom had stripped off his own clothes as well. He himself had been shirtless in Grissom's presence, even down to his trunks when an "experiment" commanded it. But he had only once seen Grissom's shirtless, when some fluids got spilled on him at a crime scene, forcing him to take off his jacket and shirt. Back then Nick didn't think anything of it, didn't pause to watch or speculate. It was on the job and Grissom soon had another shirt on, one he pulled from his Tahoe.

But now he was thinking and he was looking. Grissom was a broadly built man with a middle-aged spread. No surprise there and not a turn off in Nick's book. //He a fine looking man,// he observed as he cast his gaze lower, taking in the aroused cock, larger than his own. Nick swallowed. He had surfed the net, had at least seen a few gay porn videos... read some books. He wasn't coming to this completely ignorant but there was a difference between speculation and reality...

"I know I'm not built like an Adonis... like you," Grissom said, sounding almost hesitant.

Nick's eyes moved back up to meet's Gil's. "Man, don't even go there," he said in warning. "I don't give a flying fuck about stuff like that." He touched Grissom's bare thigh, rubbing over the hairs, working to adapt to the feel of masculine muscles rather then a more feminine firmness. "And like you said, don't compare. I barely even work out so anything you see is just the way I am." He experimentally moved his hand up, his fingers touching the base of Grissom's cock. "It's weird."

Grissom watched Nick's hand, his mouth working. "What's weird?" he asked, his voice becoming deeper again, aroused.

Nick let his fingers lightly brush the underside of Grissom's cock, withdrawing quickly when the older man hissed and jumped. "Sor--"

"Don't stop, Nicky!" Grissom took Nick's hand and guided it back to himself. "It feels good," he said. "Please go on... if you want to."

Want to? Nick brushed his fingers more firmly on the warm surface, taking in the differences, the way the silken skin moved when he caressed it. "I've never touched a guy's dick," he said as his face burned. "I mean I know how mine feels--"

"Then do what you like, Nicky," Grissom encouraged, his voice strained. "So far I have no complaints."

Nick smiled. He wanted to move on his side, get into a better position to do what he wanted to do but his injured side was already broadcasting a warning to him. Grissom seem to read his mind however and pulled back to cautiously straddle his hips, forcing their aroused cocks to touch and brush. Nick groaned in reaction, the new sensation setting off firecrackers in his nerve endings. He pushed his hips up for stimulation then cried out as his right side stiffened painfully.

"All right, Nick," Grissom soothed, his hand's lightly caressing Nick's abdomen. "Take a deep breath."

Nick obeyed, riding out the pain until it ebbed to an agreeable level. "Oh fuck... this is too much!"

"You're still healing," Grissom said. His hands continued their soothing motions. "We're going to do this carefully."

"But I want to do everything with you, Gil!" Nick expressed in utter frustration. His arousal was nearly gone, his body protesting any further moves on his part.

"We will, Nick," Gil promised. "But not today." His hands slid over Nick's cock. "I'll be all right," he assured as he maneuvered back. He lay between Nick's parted legs. "Just let me do the work."

Nick shivered with renewed anticipation as he understood what Gil was about to do. He had had a blow job before, some by very talented women who left him sated for hours. But this was Gil Grissom, the center of his fantasies for the better part of two years. Fantasies where he, Nick Stokes, was the one doing this, not the other way around...

Grissom's hands gently held his hips as his tongue lapped the underside of Nick's arousing cock. //Oh man...// Nick spread his hands to the side as electricity spread up his spine. //Oh man...// Gil's tongue didn't experiment, it already knew, finding every pleasure point, every erogenous zone that Nick ever had as its journeyed over his cock and around his balls. Nick tried to shift, to demand more, but Grissom's strong hands stopped him, forced him to remain still. For a single moment Nick panicked as he flashed to the babysitter in his youth but then he conquered his fear and groaned as erotic pleasure exploded over his entire body as Grissom's mouth finally descended on his cock, drawing his into a warm, moist haven, the tongue continuing its play joined by the hint of teeth.

//Oh god...// Nick understood the need to stay still, to let Grissom do it all. His side was aching, teasing him with the punishment he would get if he tried to thrust, tried to participate. Most of the time he simply held onto the sheets, moaning in rhythm to what was being done, feeling his balls tighten, his being gather. As if sensing this Grissom's sucked harder and Nick's cockhead slid into the older man's throat where muscles there did more fantastic things. //Shit... shit...// He knew he was screaming, wondered if anyone in the adjoining units would notice then didn't give a damn. Grissom's was moaning as well, the vibration of his vocal chords becoming the final straw for Nick as he came in a way he couldn't ever remember coming before...

His side hurt. But he didn't care. His cock jumped and jittered as cool air wafted over it. But he didn't care. He was boneless, barely able to stay awake. Beside him the bed shifted. A mouth sealed over his in a leisurely fashion, opening as his opened in acceptance, tasting an odd bitter taste that he knew from his experience with women was his own cum. "Gil."

"Yes... the very same." Grissom's voice was gentle, quiet... relaxed. Nick managed to open an eye and was treated to the sight of his boss' face hovering over him, his expression full of humor and satiation. Nick touched Gil's face, unsure it was the same man. Grissom smiled and took Nick's hand in both of his, kissing the younger man's palm. "All right?" he asked.

Nick started to laugh then stopped as his bruised side stiffened. "I think we gave the units around us a good show." He reached down. He was so tired. But it wasn't right to fall asleep without giving Gil something.

"Careful, Nicky," Grissom told him as he gently gripped Nick's wrist as his hand brushed against moist hairs. "I'm a bit sensitive there."

Sensitive? Nick looked at his hand, seeing tiny white flecks of moisture. He gazed at Grissom. //You came?//.

Short laughter escaped Grissom as he leaned down to give Nick another thorough kiss. "I was going to come in my pants in the living room, Nicky." He drew back. "Don't ever doubt the effect you have on me."

Nick wanted to cry but didn't have the energy. He looked at the cum on his hand then experimentally licked one of the droplets. Still bitter but different from his own taste. Something he could get used to when he--

"Nick, you really want to torture me don't you?"

Nick gazed at him, noting the heated expression. He smiled devilishly and started to lick more--

Grissom growled. "Stop!" he ordered in mock anger as he got off the bed. "I don't have the control and you don't have the energy right now though I'm sorely tempted." He walked in the bathroom, turned on the water then came out a moment later with a damp cloth. "Your hand."

"Aw mom!" Nick tried not to laugh as he tried to sound serious. "You don't let me have any fun!"

Grissom maintained a dark facade though his blue eyes glittered, openly amused. "Oh the moment you can stand to move around without ruining the moment you'll know what fun is!" He wiped off Nick's belly and around his deflated cock then wiped himself and threw the cloth on the floor. He lay down on Nick's left side and drew Nick close. "Can't wait for the moment I can actually hold you in my arms, Nicky," he sighed.

//Neither can I,// Nick agreed silently as pleasant exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep as the first rays of the morning peeked through the window.

Something woke him. Grissom opened his eyes, instantly awake. He looked down at his lover, relieved to see him sound asleep. He heard a faint sound and drew up a sheet over himself and Nick. Someone was in the condo unit, probably one of his team checking in as they have been since Nick got here. He waited. It was too late to get out of bed. He would rather be caught under the sheet than completely naked. He gazed down at Nick with some concern. Before seducing Nick he had thought through what it would mean for his team, for CSI as a whole. Eventually he thought they would be all right, as soon as it was understood that when at work they were a team and he was their leader bound to treat them all equally no matter what. But he wasn't ready to test the theory so soon.

"Nick?"

Warrick. Grissom relaxed a little. He glanced at the clock radio on the nightstand. It was nearly ten o'clock. Full morning. He saw a shadow move against the bedroom door then Warrick's figure in the doorway.

Warrick's eyes took in the tableau before him for several seconds then his lips turned upward briefly before they moved downward in a frown as his gaze fixed on Grissom. "Hey man, I'm sorry... I was just checking on him--"

Grissom held a finger to his lips, ordering quiet. Warrick nodded, his posture relaxing, his dark face turning a shade darker as he seemed to fully understand what he was looking at. Then he grinned a little. "Breakfast's in the kitchen," he said, probably in a low voice because Grissom could not hear. Fortunately Warrick mouthed his words so Gil got the gist. He grinned back at Warrick then waved him off. Warrick echoed the gesture and was gone, a genuine smile in his eyes and on his lips.

Grissom let himself fully relax as he realized Warrick was a friend and would be an ally. The only other person who would have been all right with this would have been Catherine. Sara... //Well that's going to be a problem,// he noted to himself. //But a bridge we'll cross and hopefully not burn down when we get there.// Grissom lightly caressed Nick's face, enjoying the feel of the younger man's light growth of beard that had emerged overnight, careful not to arouse and repeat last night's incident. //Yet another area we'll have deal with... at some time... but not in the near future...// he assured himself as he set priorities in his head.

Nick grunted, shifting away towards his uninjured side. Grissom assisted then waited for him to settle. The smell of something cooked reached his nose and he carefully got up, looking out at the glorious new day in Las Vegas. He would see what Warrick brought then get Nick up to eat. Then... well there were a few hours to kill before he had to work tonight.

Work. Grissom smiled as he gazed down at his lover, his potential life partner. Yes, they were all going to notice a change and he was more than happy to let them.

THE END... for the moment