FANFIC: Sweet Cool Water by Caroline Crane 11/12

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 eleven

Greg rushed the DNA results through at record speed, and by the time the night shift was over Allan Keene had been booked on three counts of murder. Nick watched the entire process, lingering at the station and shadowing Brass while he finalized the details of the arrest. Grissom had gone back to the lab hours ago, doing his part to solidify evidence from there. Nick knew Grissom could have ordered him to go back to the lab, put him on another case to keep him busy for the rest of the night.

Either Grissom didn't notice or he figured letting Nick hang around the station would keep him out of Grissom's hair, but either way he didn't say anything. So Nick waited around, pretending he didn't notice the weird looks Brass shot at him every so often. He wasn't even sure what he was waiting for; they had the guy, all the evidence pointed to him and the DNA results were just the final nail in his coffin. There was no reason for Nick to wait around, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

He kept waiting for it, all night long and into the morning he waited for that feeling to hit him. Whenever they solved a case there was always a point after all the evidence was gathered when Nick felt a sense of justice, that satisfying feeling of a job well done. No matter how brutal the case was or how much death he'd waded through, he always felt a little better about it when they caught the person responsible.

This time shouldn't have been any different; it should have been better, in fact, because he'd taken this case a lot harder than he usually did. So he waited in the station, watching them book Keene and lead him away to a holding cell. He went over the evidence again just to make it more real in his mind, read the e-mails Jessie and Chris had sent back and forth about the guy from the support group. He read the whole conversation over and over again, his heart sinking a little more each time he got to the end and Jessie and Chris still decided to go through with it.

He knew he couldn't change the outcome just by reading those e-mails, but that didn't make it any easier to live with the knowledge. He couldn't change any of the details of the case, not the way those boys had died or the fact that they were dead because of some sick bastard who hated himself so much he had to take it out on innocent kids. He couldn't take back any of the things he'd done wrong in this case, not lying to Jessie's father or using Greg to try and forget.

By the time the DNA results came back and Keene was formally charged Nick should have felt better, he should have at least felt a little sense of relief that they'd closed the case and found some justice for the families of the victims. Only that sense of justice never came, and by the time he got back to the lab he felt even worse. He'd been telling himself for over a week now that he'd feel better when the case was closed, but as he walked back into the lab his stomach turned and he had to force his legs to carry him down the hall.

He was almost to the locker room when Grissom caught up with him, frowning instantly when he caught sight of Nick's expression. "Nick," he said, sounding almost surprised to see the other man, "you look terrible."

"Thanks, Gris," Nick shot back, grimacing when his boss raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm just wiped out."

The truth was that he didn't know what was wrong with him; he'd done what he was supposed to do, they'd all done their jobs and they'd solved the case. He couldn't bring those kids back to life no matter how much he wanted to, and beating himself up about it wasn't going to do anybody any good. He couldn't even make things right with Jessie's father, because he'd planted the seed of doubt and he knew even if he went back there and told Mr. Walker the truth the other man wouldn't believe him.

He didn't want to believe the truth, and sometimes what people wanted to believe was a lot more important than what they needed to know. Or maybe that was just the excuse Nick had come up with so he wouldn't have to go over there and face Jessie's father again. It didn't matter anymore, because the damage was done and there was nothing Nick could do to fix it.

"If you're still sick you should go home," Grissom said, and Nick had to work hard not to roll his eyes. Shift was over and they were all headed home, but pointing out the obvious to Grissom wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Maybe you should take a few days. Rest, pull yourself together."

Nick was skilled enough in Gris-speak by now to hear the truth behind the concern: You're way too wrapped up in your own problems, Nick. You're no good to me until you get your head screwed back on straight. He wanted to laugh at that last word, but it wasn't even close to funny. He wasn't sure anything in his life had ever been less funny, as a matter of fact, and he had no idea how he was supposed to 'pull himself together'. Knowing what the hell was wrong with him would be a good start, but he hadn't even been able to figure that out. And the worst part was that it wasn't just affecting his job, it was affecting the people around him. He'd managed somehow to make Grissom and Greg think he was a basket case, and he was sure other people were starting to notice.

"I'm fine," he heard himself say, managing not to wince at the edge in his voice.

Grissom's expression let him know that the older man hadn't missed it, and when he spoke again it was in that tone of his that told Nick this was an argument he wasn't going to win. "Go home, Nick. Take some time off. Come back fresh."

Nick knew what that meant; figure out how to fix whatever's wrong with you or don't bother coming back at all. He nodded anyway, letting out a deep breath when Grissom finally dropped his gaze and headed back to his office. For a few seconds he just stood in the middle of the hall, one hand on the back of his neck while he waited for his head to stop spinning. He had no idea what had just happened; they'd solved the case, the right guy was in a holding cell down at the station and all was right with the world. Only the sick, gnawing emptiness in the pit of his stomach was still there, and apparently Nick couldn't even do his job anymore.

When he realized he was still standing in the middle of the hall he forced himself to move, his legs heavy as he made his way to the locker room and sat down on the bench in front of the row of lockers. He took his time pulling off his I.D. and then his shirt, tossing both in his locker before he reached for a fresh shirt and pulled it on. Everything felt wrong, like he was moving in slow motion or time had somehow slowed down while he wasn't looking. And there was still that nagging feeling in the back of his mind like he'd left something unsettled, only he didn't know what it was.

He sighed and made his way out of the locker room, his mind still swimming. Solving the case hadn't erased his memories of that night in the alley; he hadn't really expected it to, but he'd been hoping catching the guy responsible would make it easier to stop thinking about it. Instead he kept seeing those three faces even more now, over and over in his mind's eye as he made his way out to the parking lot. By the time he reached the door his heart was racing, and when he stepped outside he breathed in sharply and had to cough against the sudden stinging in his lungs.

It took a few moments for the coughing fit to subside, and when he finally looked up he realized for the first time that he wasn't alone. His heart skipped a beat when he found Greg watching him, his expression unreadable and his mouth set in that same grim line Nick had seen earlier. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Nick answered, but his voice was hoarse and he was sure his face was red. "Just swallowed wrong or something."

Greg nodded shortly and turned away, but as soon as Nick realized he was actually leaving he started moving. He didn't remember making the decision to go after Greg, but before he knew it his hand was on the other man's shoulder and he was turning Greg to face him. "Sanders, wait."

Greg flinched under his hand and pulled free, and Nick didn't try to stop him. He didn't have the right – didn't even have any reason to stop Greg, really. He had no idea what he wanted to say, but he felt like he should say something. "Look," he continued, "I'm sorry about earlier, all right?"

Greg shrugged and looked away, and Nick tried to ignore the hollow ache in his stomach. "Forget it. You don't wanna talk about it, I got the message. I've gotta go, I have someplace to be."

"Wait," he said again when Greg started toward his Jeep. He still didn't have a clue what he was going to say or even why he was bothering; Greg had just let him off the hook, so he should just accept it an get on with his life. Only Greg wouldn't even look at him, and everything still felt all wrong. "It's just the case…"

"I know all about the case," Greg interrupted, his features twisting into an uncharacteristic scowl. "I know exactly how much it's eating at you. I was there the other night, remember? I've been there since this whole thing started, did you think I was gonna miss that? I'm not stupid, Nick, I know what's going on here. So don't tell me you're sorry or that this is all because of the case. If you can't handle it that's fine, but at least have the balls to say it."

Nick flinched involuntarily, but he managed not to take a step backwards. He'd expected Greg to be pissed, but he hadn't expected that. And maybe he deserved it, but Greg was the one who'd started this whole thing. He'd known going into this that it didn't mean anything, that Nick was just blowing off steam. So they'd slept together a few more times than either of them had probably planned; it didn't make any difference.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, surprised to find that he really wanted to know the answer. He hadn't given much thought to what Greg wanted since this whole thing started, but now that he'd said it he couldn't help wondering. "You said yourself that we were just having a good time, right?"

Something like a sharp, bitter laugh escaped Greg's throat, and just for a second when he looked up Nick could read exactly what he was thinking. Then he blinked and it was gone, and Nick was left wondering if he'd just imagined the flash of emotion. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm not having such a good time anymore."

Nick didn't try to stop him this time. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to, because he knew if he did Greg would say something he wasn't ready to hear. Maybe he'd known all along that this was more than just two friends messing around, at least for Greg. The problem was that he didn't know what it had been for him, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to be something different now. He wasn't even sure that was possible, because Greg had made it pretty clear that the time for negotiation was past.

He waited until Greg was out of the parking lot before he got in his own car and started the engine. For a second he considered following Greg home, forcing an end to whatever they'd been doing all week. He wasn't sure what else there was to say, though, and even if he knew he wasn't sure he could get Greg to listen.

Part twelve