FANFIC: Sweet Cool Water by Caroline Crane 7/12

Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: Sweet Cool Water
Author: Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: A hard night on the job and an unexpected encounter with a familiar face force Nick to re-examine some things about himself.
Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12.

Part seven

Nick still wasn't exactly sure what he was doing here. He hadn't been working the triple homicide, so he was still a little sketchy on what exactly had led them to this point. All he knew was that they'd gotten some information off one of the kid's computers, and now everybody was back on the case and everything else had been pushed to the back burner.

Which led to Nick being ordered by Grissom to drive out to Jessie Walker's house and sweet talk his father into giving up Jessie's computer. "You're good with people," Grissom had said when Nick asked why he was being sent to talk to the father. It was what Grissom always said when he was handing off an assignment he didn't want to deal with personally; Nick knew it was true, he was good at setting people at ease, while Grissom usually left people wondering what had just happened to them.

That didn't make this particular assignment any easier, though, because it had been two days since he walked in on Warrick and Sara's conversation and he hadn't stopped thinking about Jessie's father since. More to the point, he hadn't stopped resenting him, comparing him to his own parents and wondering how somebody could care more about appearances than the fact that their kid was dead. It didn't matter that he'd never met Mr. Walker, it didn't even matter that he had no idea if Warrick's impression of him had been right. All that mattered was that he still couldn't think about Jessie without feeling sick, and now that he was back on the case it was worse instead of better.

He took a deep breath as he pulled up outside the Walkers' house, killing the engine and shutting off his headlights as slowly as possible. None of this was personal, he reminded himself for the hundredth time as he swung the car door open and set one foot on the ground. He didn't know these people, he told himself as he set the other foot down and closed the door behind him. He didn't even know Jessie, and this was just another case. Another case they were going to solve, and then he could put it behind him.

That thought carried him up the front walk and to the door, and he only hesitated for a second before he rang the doorbell. It felt like forever before the door finally swung open, and he barely managed not to flinch when he found himself face to face with Jessie's father. The older man's eyes were sunken and rimmed with red, and Nick found himself caught between a twisted mixture of pity and revulsion. He didn't want to be here; he wanted to turn around and get back in his truck, drive as fast as he could and not stop until he'd left every memory of this case behind him.

"Mr. Walker, I'm Nick Stokes with the Vegas crime lab," he began, the words spilling out of his mouth automatically.

"We've told you people everything," Mr. Walker said, his voice as weary as his features. "What else do you want?"

"Sir, we think we may have a new lead in the case," Nick answered, the cop in him taking over long enough to explain what he needed. "They found some e-mails on one of the other boys' computers that might help us find the person who killed your son. Did Jessie have access to a computer at home?"

"There's one in his room," Mr. Walker answered, his voice faltering a little as he glanced over his shoulder toward the hall that Nick assumed led to the bedrooms. "But I don't see what this has to do with anything."

"Sir, may I come in?" Nick asked, forcing himself to smile reassuringly when Mr. Walker turned to look at him again.

The older man nodded and took a step backwards, his shoulders deflating a little as he ushered Nick into the living room. Nick glanced around as he crossed the room and took a seat on the edge of the low couch, noting the scratches on the coffee table and the worn spots in the upholstery. He scanned the family pictures scattered around the shelves on one side of the room, his stomach lurching when he spotted an empty space and realized that must have been where Jessie's picture used to be.

The house was so much different than the one he'd grown up in; it was a lot smaller, for one thing, and despite the size of his family they'd always had the best of everything. His mother devoted her life to helping the less fortunate, spending her entire career in the public defender's office, but that didn't stop her from making sure their house looked like a judge's home. Seeing the way Jessie grew up just made him feel even worse.

"My wife's barely left the bedroom since it happened," Mr. Walker said, glancing toward the back of the house again as he sat in an ancient-looking leather recliner across from Nick. "She can't even say his name. It was bad enough before, but then they told us where they found him…"

He trailed off, his mouth twisting into a thin line that made Nick's stomach turn. Just for a second something like disgust flashed in the older man's eyes, and Nick was sure he wouldn't be able to do this. He couldn't just sit there and listen to the man talk about his son as though he'd never really known him. Only he didn't have a choice, because he was already on thin ice with Grissom as it was and he couldn't go back to the lab and admit he couldn't handle this case.

"Mr. Walker, the information we found in those e-mails indicates that someone set up a meeting with the boys. There's a good chance that there's more information on Jessie's computer, and if so we might be able to track down our suspect."

The older man nodded, but Nick could tell he wasn't really listening. His mind was back in that alley, probably picturing the same scene Nick had been trying to forget all week. He was going to be haunted by those images forever and he'd never even seen them; what chance did Nick have to exorcise them when he'd had a front row seat?

He swallowed a sigh and told himself to stick to the facts, to find a way to get Mr. Walker to cooperate. The only thing that mattered now was catching this guy before he killed any more kids, and Nick had to do whatever it took to make sure that happened.

"Look, sir, chances are that the location was incidental. The bartender doesn't remember actually seeing the boys inside the club," Nick said, his stomach turning even as he heard himself say the words. He knew it wasn't true; the bartender had lied to cover his boss' ass and save his job, but anybody could see through his story. Nick hadn't even had to hear the interrogation to figure that out. Still, the minute the words escaped his lips Mr. Walker's eyes lit up, and he turned back to Nick with a look of such hope that Nick felt like throwing up.

"You mean my boy wasn't…?"

"I'm saying that the location could have been random," Nick answered, hating himself a little more with every word. He turned on his friendliest smile, the one his mother had always said could charm the spots off a leopard. "The alley behind that club is the only one on that street without street access on both ends, and there aren't any street lights in that part of town. The club might not have had anything to do with it."

If he hadn't felt sick before the look of relief on Mr. Walker's face would have made him nauseous. As it was his stomach just clenched even tighter, and he was almost sure he wouldn't make it out of the house without throwing up. He hated himself for the lie, hated himself for coming up with it so easily. He hated himself even more when Mr. Walker reached up to wipe his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh before he looked at Nick again.

"What was it you said you needed from me?"

"Mr. Walker…"

"Steve."

Nick's stomach clenched again and he had to grit his teeth for a second before he continued. "Steve. We'd like to take Jessie's computer back to the lab, see if we can extract any information that could help us catch this guy."

"Right, sure," the other man said, nodding distractedly as he stood up and turned toward the back of the house. "It's in his room. This way."

Nick's legs shook when he stood up, but he managed somehow to force them to carry him down the hall and into a bedroom at the very back of the house. His breath caught in his throat when Mr. Walker flipped on the light and Nick looked around, blinking against a sudden stinging in his eyes as he took in the posters on the walls and the clothes strewn across the floor.

"We haven't been in here since it happened," Mr. Walker said, but Nick barely heard him as he took in the details of Jessie's life.

His bed was unmade, the sheets tangled with the comforter at the end of the mattress. There was a pair of sneakers sticking out from under the bed, and more shoes scattered around the room. A hamper at one end of the room sat below a poster of the Lakers, and above Jessie's bed there was a Savage Garden poster, one of the edges curling away from the wall.

His desk was piled with school books and papers; the police had been through most of that stuff already, but Nick couldn't help running his fingers along the edge of one of Jessie's notebooks as he stopped next to the desk. In the corner of the cover was a small heart drawn in black ballpoint, surrounding the initials 'C.M.' Instantly Nick's mind flashed to another one of the faces from the alley; Chris Mason, the boy whose computer had held the e-mails that gave them their first break.

Nick's heart sank and he forced himself to look away, clearing his throat before he turned back to Mr. Walker. "I'm going to need any computer disks Jessie might have kept," he said, working hard to keep his voice steady. "Would you happen to know where he kept them?"

"Maybe in his desk," Mr. Walker answered, and Nick pulled open the drawer he indicated to reveal a box of floppy disks. He pulled on a pair of gloves before he picked them up and dropped them into an evidence bag, setting the bag down on the chair and going through the rest of Jessie's drawers to make sure he hadn't missed any.

It didn't take long to disconnect the hard drive and carry it out to his truck along with the rest of the evidence. Convincing a suddenly helpful Mr. Walker that he didn't need Jessie's monitor as well took a little longer, but finally he managed to get out of the house and back into his truck. He drove back to the lab on automatic pilot, his stomach in knots the entire way. He tried not to think about Mr. Walker or the look of relief on his face when he'd bought Nick's lie, but no matter how hard he tried he kept hearing himself say the location could have been random over and over.

By the time he got back to the lab and brought Jessie's hard drive to the computer lab he was pale and his skin felt clammy, and he barely managed to sign the evidence over to the tech on duty before he made a break for the bathroom and shut himself in one of the stalls. He couldn't remember when he'd eaten last, but by the time he finished retching his stomach was empty and his throat burned.

When he was finally done he let himself out of the stall, rinsing his mouth at the sink before he washed his face. He was still staring at his pale complexion when the bathroom door opened, and he looked up to find Grissom standing in the doorway, watching him curiously. "You okay, Nicky?"

"Yeah," Nick answered, willing himself to believe it as he straightened up and reached for a paper towel. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, just a little stomach thing." He ran the paper towel over his mouth before he crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the trash. "Nothing to worry about."

Grissom nodded and crossed to the sink, setting down the files he was carrying before he looked at Nick again. "Did you get Mr. Walker to give you Jessie's computer?"

"Yeah, the guys in the lab are working on it right now."

"Good."

For a few seconds Grissom just stared at him, and finally Nick cleared his throat and began backing toward the door. "Guess I should get back out there."

"Nick."

He stopped at the sound of Grissom's voice, forcing himself to look back at the other man.

"If you're coming down with something you should go home. There's no point making yourself sick over this case, that won't do anybody any good."

Nick nodded abruptly, not quite meeting the older man's gaze. A second later he was on the other side of the bathroom door, taking a deep breath to steady his wildly beating heart. He knew exactly what Grissom was saying; somehow his boss always seemed to know how each case was affecting the rest of them, whether they ever admitted it or not. He wasn't sure if Grissom had guessed exactly why this case was affecting Nick the way it was, but he knew Nick was having a hard time with it and that was enough.

Part eight