FANFIC: Sweet Cool Water by Caroline Crane 8/12

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 eight

After his run-in with Grissom Nick managed to make it back to the locker room without running into anyone else, and once he was alone in the silence of the locker room his heart started to slow down again. He wasn't sure what was happening to him; a panic attack, maybe, or possibly just overwhelming anger with himself. Either way he couldn't seem to stop the feelings that were rolling through him, he couldn't stop the images from coming or the anger from welling up inside him.

Focusing on changing his shirt made it a little easier, so when he finished with that he found the toothbrush he kept in his locker and focused on chasing the acrid taste out of his mouth. Several minutes later his gums were raw and the flavor of mint lingered on his tongue, and he'd stopped picturing that night in the alley almost a week ago. The memories weren't gone, but more recent memories of his own lies and the look of relief on Mr. Walker's face had taken center stage in his mind.

He knew it was because it had been less than an hour since he left Jessie's father standing on his front step, waving as though Nick had single-handedly given him back his son. Nobody could do that, but Nick had given him back the image of the son he wanted to remember. There were a lot of people who would probably applaud Nick for what he'd done, congratulate him on giving a grieving father the only piece of mind he could offer. Knowing that didn't help Nick feel any less sick about it, though, and it didn't make him any less angry.

It wasn't fair to compare Mr. Walker to his own parents; he'd never given his parents the chance to accept him when he was still living in Texas, and after he left it just didn't seem to matter. They didn't have much to do with his life anymore, and what they didn't know about him wouldn't hurt them. He'd never been open about it, not in college and certainly not when he was still a cop. He was smart enough to know his personal life could cost him his job if he wasn't careful, so he'd learned to hide that part of himself and after awhile it was almost second nature.

Knowing what Jessie and those other boys had been going through made it easier for him to sympathize with them, but it made it harder for him to live with the fact that he'd lied to make Jessie's father feel better. He kept telling himself he'd done it so he could get Jessie's computer, so they could catch the guy who did this and get some justice for those kids. He told himself that was all that mattered, and even though part of him believed it, there was a part of him that knew better.

That same part of him hated what he'd done, hated that he'd denied the one thing that tied him to Jessie and those other kids. They didn't deserve to die because of who they were, but when he'd lied to Jessie's father that was exactly what he'd been saying. No one would blame him for what he'd done, but that didn't matter because he couldn't stop blaming himself.

And the worst part was that they still didn't know much more about the case than they had that first night. If they were making some progress he was sure he'd feel better, but so far all they had was a few e-mails that might or might not be from the killer. With any luck Jessie's computer would tell them more, but if it didn't then they were at another dead end. Nick knew time was running out; Grissom wouldn't keep working the case much longer with nothing to go on, no matter how high-profile it was. Three dead gay kids was news, but it was the kind of news people wanted to forget about as quickly as possible.

Nick groaned and pushed himself away from the sink he'd been leaning against, putting his toothbrush back in his locker before he headed back out into the lab again. There was nothing else he could really do, but he couldn't just hang around and do nothing. He thought about telling Grissom he was sick and going home early, but the thought of being alone with his thoughts was worse than the thought of staring at old evidence for the rest of the night.

He headed down to the evidence room on automatic pilot, checking out the box that held what they had so far from the triple homicide. He looked through the boys' wallets again, making note of the concert ticket stub in Chris' wallet and a book of matches from the club where they'd died. He picked up Jessie's wallet last, turning it over before he unfolded it and looked inside.

The contents hadn't changed any since the inventory was made; a few dollars, a school I.D. and a library card, the fake I.D. he'd used to get into the club, and a picture of him and Chris that had been taken at one of those automatic photo booths. He set the wallet down and looked more closely at the picture, noting for the first time the way Jessie's hand rested on Chris' shoulder and the way they leaned into each other.

An image of the ballpoint heart on the cover of Jessie's notebook flashed in his mind, and Nick's throat tightened as he realized that they were dating. Maybe they were even in love, and Jessie's parents would never know. They'd never know their son was happy even though he'd had to hide who he was, that he'd found somebody who understood him. At least he looked happy in the picture, and Nick could barely reconcile that smiling face to the one he remembered from the alley.

What he didn't get was why Jessie and Chris were at the club in the first place; he was pretty sure now that they were a couple, and he knew the club where they were killed was a pick-up joint. He knew how they'd gotten in; guys who went to places like that liked boys like Jessie and his friends, and letting in underage kids attracted more paying customers for the club's owner. Getting that place shut down would take a lot more than three underage kids with decent fake I.D.s, but if Nick could find a way to put the club out of business he'd do it.

Right now, though, his first priority was finding the guy who killed those three boys. He tucked the picture back into Jessie's wallet and carefully put the evidence back in the box before he pulled his gloves off and headed down to the computer lab. He wasn't surprised to find Grissom already there, his head bent over one of the monitors as he watched the tech on duty typing something into the screen.

"Hey," Nick said when the other men looked up at him, "you get anything yet?"

"It looks like those e-mails we found on Chris' computer were forwarded from Jessie," Grissom answered. "Jessie also frequented a web site aimed at gay teenagers. Sort of a cyber-support group. That's all we've got so far."

Nick nodded and glanced at the screen, watching lines of code fly past for a few moments before he answered. "Listen, Gris, I'm not sure if it makes a difference to the case, but I'm pretty sure Jessie and Chris were an item."

"Judging by the e-mails on Jessie's hard drive I'd say you were right," Grissom answered, his expression a mixture of amusement and surprise. "May I ask what brought you to that conclusion?"

"There's a picture of the two of them in Jessie's wallet," Nick answered, "and when I was at his house I saw a notebook on Jessie's desk. He had Chris' initials outlined in a heart on the cover."

Grissom nodded, holding his gaze for another moment before he turned back to the screen. "Good work. Unfortunately that doesn't really help us figure out what they were doing at that club."

The way Grissom looked at him made Nick feel as though the older man was reading his mind again. He'd gotten that feeling once already tonight, when Grissom found him in the bathroom. He was pretty sure he didn't look as shaken up as he had then; at least he'd cleaned up a little and stopped shaking, but that didn't make him feel any better when Grissom was looking at him like he could see right through him.

"So do you think this internet group could have anything to do with the case?" Nick asked, glancing at the screen again only to find even more computer language he didn't understand.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Grissom answered without looking up. "Look, Nick, maybe you should go home. Shift's almost over, and you still don't look that good. Take tomorrow off, get some rest."

"I'm fine, Gris."

Grissom looked up at him then, and Nick knew before he even said it that there was no use arguing. Somehow he'd managed to become a liability in the investigation, and when Grissom looked at him like that he had a feeling the older man knew exactly why. "There's nothing more you can do here. You did a good job with Mr. Walker, Nick. Now go home and get some rest."

Nick didn't bother to answer; instead he nodded and turned toward the door, managing not to slam it on his way out of the lab. The rational part of him knew Grissom was right; there was nothing for him to do until they got all the information they could off Jessie's computer, but even if he went home he wasn't going to get any sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep at all since the case began, except for the two nights he'd spent in Greg's bed.

He was on his way back to the locker room when he passed Greg's lab, his footsteps slowing down automatically at the sight of the other man. As soon as he reached the door Greg looked up, and Nick could tell by the other man's expression that he looked just as bad as he felt. The only time he'd felt okay all week had been those two nights with Greg, and he wanted to feel that way again just for a little while. He just wanted to forget for awhile, and he knew there was only one way he'd be able to.

Before he realized he'd made the decision he was pushing open the door to the lab, glancing over his shoulder to make sure there was no one hanging around before he crossed the room and stopped next to Greg. He glanced down at the lab station long enough to note that Greg didn't seem to be busy, then he cleared his throat and looked up again.

"You okay?" Greg asked, his voice hesitant as though he was worried that Nick might not appreciate the concern. Not that Nick could blame him; he'd been avoiding the other man since the last time he woke up in Greg's bed, and he couldn't even use the case as an excuse. Hearing Greg's voice reminded him of how disgusted he was with himself, but it also reminded him of how easy it was to forget about everything when he was in Greg's bed.

He knew he shouldn't do it. He'd already told Greg it was over, and after that first day of awkward silence between them Greg seemed to accept it. Granted, Nick hadn't seen much of him around the lab, but when he had to go into Greg's lab the other man had been professional, if not his usual friendly self. Nick had told himself he could live with that, that it was best if they just kept their distance from now on. And yet here he was, and the last thing on his mind was keeping his distance.

"Yeah," he said, although he knew Greg could tell it was a lie just by looking at him. "You wanna get out of here a little early?"

For a second Greg looked surprised, then his expression shifted into a frown. "Look, Stokes…"

"What? You said yourself we have a good time together, right? So what's the problem?"

He hated himself a little more for doing it when he knew he shouldn't, but that didn't stop him from leaning forward and pressing his mouth to the mark he'd left on Greg's neck just a few days ago, tracing the slowly fading bruise with his tongue before he pulled back to look at Greg again. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice telling him that he shouldn't be doing this here, that anyone could walk by and if that happened it was all over. He couldn't make himself care, though, not when Greg's breathing picked up speed and his hand found its way to Nick's chest. Whether he'd meant to push him away or not Nick didn't care, because all Greg did was curl his fingers around Nick's shirt for a second before he remembered himself and let go.

"Nick, I…fuck it," Greg muttered, his cheeks flushing a flattering shade of red as he glanced over Nick's shoulder to make sure no one was watching from the hallway. "My place?"

"I'm right behind you," Nick answered, his grin returning as he pushed himself away from the lab station and into Greg's personal space. It was the same grin he'd used on Mr. Walker just before he'd lied to him, and his stomach twisted at the thought. As soon as it surfaced he shook it off, though, focusing all his attention on Greg as he followed the other man out of the lab and toward the parking lot.

Part nine