"Dark Days" Chapter 10
Sep. 20th, 2005 12:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristen999Title: Dark Days (Chapter 10)
Author: Kristen999
Category: Angst/ Drama/ Case file
Spoilers: General for seasons 1-4. Set in Season 5, but no specific spoilers for it.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all their fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.
Summary: Detachment from a case is a necessity. Obsession, however, can be an unavoidable evil. Nick battles his demons during a case of a murdered child.
Big thanks to Tinkerbell for al of her help with the edits! *hugs*
Previous chapters can be found here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2548408/1/
I'm going to try and update three times a week now.
Chapter 10
Nick walked as swiftly as his injured body would permit down the hallways of the LVPD. He kept to one side of the corridor so he could avoid bumping into anyone. Warrick remained to his left side, presumably to keep others away. It wasn't long until they found the room where Sara and Greg were holed up, both glued to their laptops.
Sara got out of her chair and moved beside the temporary shift supervisor. She eyed him critically, the summary of his injury echoing in her head. The man needed to be in a hospital. "Didn't you ask me once if I thought I was indestructible?" she challenged.
Nick scowled, disagreeing with the situation but not saying so aloud. "You can chastise me later. Have you found anything on Brent Nero?"
Sara pursed her kips, wanting to argue, to validate her point. However she shook her head solemnly. "Nothing, Nick. Not a single thing connects him to any of the other missing children."
"How long has he been in Vegas?" Nick pressed on, unconvinced at the lack of findings.
Sara searched the table for a few printouts, leafing through till she found the specific sheet. "He moved here two years ago from Salt Lake City. He resided in Utah the last fifteen years, albeit he moved around some of the smaller cities. He's coached for several school systems there, with tons of written allocates from local sports columnists."
Greg tentatively crept out of his seat and stood next to the female criminalist. "I went as far as to cross reference some of the same dates when some of the children went missing where the Todds lived. Brent Nero won several division championships during that time."
Nick walked over to a chair and dug his fingers into the back of it, absently shaking his head. It couldn't be right, he wouldn't believe it.
Greg looked at the chart he had made almost dismally. He looked over at Sara who gave him a supportive look. The rookie continued, his voice betraying how conflicted he sounded. He wanted to find the elusive connection, but there simply wasn't one. Nothing to corroborate what Nick insisted was the truth.
"You were in little league, right?" Greg asked.
Nick clawed at the chair even more, his eyes glued to the floor. He wanted to scratch the small bandages along his throat, but he kept his fingers curled into the fabric of the office chair.
The younger man gulped. Sara and Warrick looked uncomfortable at witnessing their friend's inability to accept that he was wrong when it was so obvious he needed it to be otherwise.
"The coach has to be present during every day of practice leading to the playoffs," Warrick answered for him. Everyone knew that he played ball in college and was an avid baseball player when he was younger. Both he and Nick knew the rigors of a sports schedule. It was one of many things they had in common.
Sara placed a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Not only did Nero not live in any of the states where the Todds resided, but his job kept him in the public eye and under a strict schedule. He couldn't possibly have been responsible for those missing children."
Nick kept his arms taunt over the chair. "He told me that he was assaulted by Matt Todd and went to seek his vengeance on his family, after he molested the others."
Warrick didn't want to push a person who was reaching their limit, but his partner had to regain perspective. "Brent Nero killed Johnny Todd and kidnapped Jason, but we might not know why. He probably just made everything up to screw with your head, man."
Nick bit his lip. He wasn't going to be second-guessed. He straightened his body back up, grimacing a bit, at the feeling of being incised all over again. He glanced over at Sara. "Are his parents still here?"
"Nick..."
"Never mind. I'll find which interview room they're in. Matt Todd is going to come clean about everything." Nick turned his head in the doorway. "Warrick, how's the warrant looking for Nero's house?"
"Brass is working on it. Not too long now," Warrick responded, glad to see that Nick's mind was still on the needed physical evidence for the crime at hand.
"You and Greg go to the house when it's ready to be processed." Nick was still in charge and he wasn't about to let the others doubt his ability about moving forward. "Sara, please keep digging on his background."
Nick left the trio as he prepared himself to confront the Todds again. His run-in with the murderer would be a weapon in his fight to get the child molester to admit to his past deeds.
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Jim Brass stood outside the entrance to the interview room sullenly. He eyed the criminalist's approach and didn't hide his visual assessment of the man. Nick held his arm around his middle. It was clear that every step sent a wave of pain through him, no matter how closely he guarded it. Nick came to a stop right in front of detective, his face betraying a mixture of anxiety, frustration and a little bit of annoyance.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "You all right there, Nicky?"
The CSI allowed his shoulders to slump forward. He didn't want to argue with the captain and was somewhat relived that he wasn't greeted with more hostility.
Nick didn't feel all right, not by a long shot. It hurt to breathe; every single intake of breath caused his skin to stretch, his belly to burn and the muscles of his abdomen to feel the rip in his flesh being artificially pulled back together. It took too much energy to stand erect, but did it really matter?
He gave him a wary smile, one filled with grim gratitude. "I'll be fine."
Jim snorted humorlessly. "Yeah? I didn't know you were such a gambler, Nicky. Maybe you might have more luck just playing Russian roulette, instead of running off to scenes unescorted. Leave us slow and stupid beat cops behind."
Nick stared at the captain wordlessly.
Jim shook his head and looked back at the closed door. "You glutting for more punishment, huh?" He laughed. "You're lucky that they even permitted you to speak to them again instead of clamming up. But they want to know about their child." Jim frowned. He didn't envy Nick's position at all.
"I'm not going to endanger this case. It's going to be airtight," Nick informed the other man.
The Captain cautiously stepped aside. "I'll be looking in through the two-way, they requested that my presence not be there. It's still an active investigation, but if we play along, they might slip up." Jim shrugged.
"Cool," Nick acknowledged the trust that the older detective still had in him.
The criminalist pushed open the door, and entered the quiet room. Three occupants had been talking softly, and Marisa Todd almost toppled her chair over in her haste to meet the CSI.
She rushed up to him. Nick halted abruptly at her unexpected actions. "You talked to the man who took my boy. What did he say? What did he want?" she asked in rapid succession.
Nick grimaced when she grabbed at his shirt. The older lawyer, came over to pull her away. Nick grunted slightly, but made his way over to the chair and cautiously sat down. He sat across from Matt Todd, who had not made a single move when he entered. Nick had felt the man's cold eyes on him the whole time.
The husband's hands rested on the table, his pointer finger bounced rhythmically. The newspaper articles had been ripped to shreds, little scraps littering the floor. The architect glanced down at the floor and back up at the CSI.
"Is my son alive?"
Nick felt his throat burn, the acid of his stomach churned again. "I was told that he was."
Matt Todd leaned forward, his voice hollow. "What are you doing to get him back?"
Nick coughed quietly, trying to clear his throat and retain an authoritative tone. "I'm trying to learn about the murderer. If we know more about him, his behavior, then it might lead to avenues where we can capture him."
Marisa Todd stood in the corner, the family lawyer held on to her as she sobbed quietly, her eyes bore into the back of her husband's head. "Just fucking tell him, Matt."
Nick's eyes narrowed, his hands gripped the table, as he watched the shadows flash across the other man's features. Matt Todd swallowed, shaking his head.
The CSI wasn't going to let this opportunity escape. "Is your pride worth more than your own son? Your older one was assaulted for God knows how long and brutally killed. Now you're just going to wait? Let the hours go by while Jason is held somewhere, while some monster has his way with him?" Nick's voice continued to strain as he leaned closer and closer, his hostile demeanor becoming more prevalent as it was unleashed.
"Is your miserable secret worth more than the sanity and well being of-"
"Enough! Stop it!" Matt stood up and kicked the chair. His chest was heaving and his face became beet red. The veins once again pulsated around the side of his head. He wiped a bit of spittle from his lips. "I was 25. I was a sick man. Is that what you want to hear?"
Nick raised his suddenly heavy head. He didn't give him any sympathy. "You molested Brent Nero?"
Matt Todd slapped his hands on the table, "I don't know. I never knew a Brent Nero… I knew a few boys... it's not liked I memorized their names." The enraged man stole a glance at his silent wife. "I've been married for over fifteen years. I told Marisa before we had Johnny about my previous illness."
Nick grit his teeth. "Your... illness?"
"A man can reform. After I helped bail out my church from the scandal their clergy were involved in they sent me to counseling. I've never touched another child since."
Nick glared. "But you did molest several boys in Tuscan?"
Matt Todd gaped at the criminalist. "Yes, I did."
"And now one has come back searching for you... to seek his vindication," Nick said with disgust.
Matt Todd held his head in his hands. "I don't know… I- I swear to God, I don't know."
"So, because you were too fearful of being exposed for the lie you led, you didn't report your first son missing… for what? Fear that your miserable past would come to light?" Nick accused the man.
"I thought... ya know... there was a ransom..." Matt Todd babbled, now a shell of a confident man.
Nick blinked. "Why a ransom?" When he got no response, he glanced over at the wife. Her blank look of shock and repulsion clouded her ability to answer him.
Nick stood up abruptly, biting his lip, channeling his pain. "Answer me!"
"Because I saw the bastard's tattoo at my son's party. He was there, and I wasn't sure who the hell he was. I confronted Johnny about Coach Nero. Asked him if he had ever approached him, but he just claimed ignorance at what I was talking about."
Nick stood there in absolute silence, his brain unwilling to comprehend such selfishness and reckless disregard. "You knew that the coach was some demon from your past, and you just kept silent while we ran around in circles." Nick felt his face flush in anger. "Your son Jason could have been protected and he was snatched right from under your nose."
Matt Todd knocked aside his chair and pointed his finger at the criminalist. "If you wouldn't have spent so much time harping on me, and looking for other suspects, you might have caught the asshole."
Nick felt his face redden, his hands shook. "I'm sure Detective Brass will be taking your statement about your previous crimes, Mr. Todd."
The criminalist stalked out of the interview room and slammed the door. He dragged his feet to the other side of the hall and rested his forehead against the wall, his hand clutching at his stomach.
Jim Brass came out to check on the criminalist. A few people wandered down the hall, casting the CSI an odd look. Jim exhaled a breath, walked over, and leaned against the wall with his shoulder.
"Come on, Nicky," he gently ordered and grabbed the man's elbow to lead him down the corridor.
Nick extracted his head from the cool exterior of the wall, and moved along with the older man, somewhat confused as to where they were going. After walking along for a few seconds, the captain's hand still guiding him, Nick had the presence of mind to speak up.
"Um, I've got some..."
Jim stepped in front of the criminalist, who almost bumped into him. "You're going to go lay down in an office for a few hours. If I hear a single word of defiance, then I'm sending your ass home, supervisor or not," he warned.
"Why does everyone around here, think they know what's best for me?" Nick's eyes focused on the man in front him. "I've got a case..."
"We've got a case. And that's the problem, Nicky. You keep forgetting about your subordinates. Now if you're going to provide good leadership, you need to pay attention to your surroundings," the captain explained.
"Running the unit is more than just chasing down whatever personal issues you've got, and don't tell me you're not battling something, Nick." Jim lowered his voice. "Don't let people question your judgment. You're smarter than that."
Nick placed his hands on his hips, a definite sign of protest and defensiveness.
Jim chuckled to himself at how easy it was to read the CSI in front of him.
Both men reached an empty office at the end of the hall. The captain pushed the door open. "Here's a nice comfy couch, Nick. Take a load off."
Nick looked at the sofa longingly, but he knew that Jason Todd didn't have the luxury of a quiet room. Nick turned to leave, but Jim didn't budge. The CSI tried to step around the detective, who kept intruding on his personal space. Nick couldn't move away fast enough, his reflexes dangerously dulled, his ease of movement awkward and stiff. Jim nudged him a little with the side of his body and Nick had to grab the handle of the door to keep from toppling over.
Jim wasn't a cruel man, but his demonstration of how much Nick needed to recuperate was plainly and painfully obvious. The captain watched the younger man suck in an excruciating breath, his face draining of some of his color.
"I'll wake you up in a couple of hours." Jim's expression softened.
Nick cradled his arm around his sensitive belly, and ambled his way into the darkened room. He lay on his back, swinging his legs around, till he was as flat as he could get on such a lumpy sofa. He tried to ignore the sting that lashed its way across his abdomen, the sickly feeling of his insides pushing along the sewn up middle. Feeling the exhaustion of the day, Nick closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep quicker that he thought was possible.
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There was whispering and soft voices that drifted in and out. It was confusing at first. Nick tried to wade though the seas of darkness. He opened his eyes, the glue that kept them together thick as he rubbed his hand over them. The soft muttering stopped, when he moved and the last few days came back to whack him across the skull.
He groaned when he slid his feet to the floor and got into a sitting position, the jostling doing wonders to his splitting headache. He allowed the dim room to swim into focus, and he coughed slightly as the rest of his wary body reacted to his awakened state.
Sara and Warrick were in the office, watching his every move. He didn't enjoy being observed in this matter, and he swallowed to give his dry throat some moisture. "Why are you guys here? Shouldn't you be processing Nero's house?"
Sara seemed to be holding something back and his partner was casting nervous glances his way. Nick kept from shivering from the inside of the room, the air conditioner must have been working over time in such a small space. It made the occupant feel chilled to the bone.
Warrick sighed. "There's nuthin' there."
"What?" Nick knew this wasn't the most intellectual response, but he was still trying to wrap his brain around the unexpected word.
"We went there with the warrant. Nero split, but he must have left days ago. The house was spotless. Not a single pierce of furniture, the whole place reeked of bleach."
Nick's brow furrowed. He sat there stunned. Every single avenue of the case had been stunted... they were grasping at straws.
"What about a paper trail?" he asked in a low murmur.
"We're going to work on that. See if we can find any previous address from before," Sara offered to the dejected man.
"Greg IDed the blonde hair off the donkey as Johnny Todd's. No scrap of anything belonging to the suspect," Warrick explained, updating the CSI on everything so far.
Nick looked up, his dark eyes in contrast to his pale pallor. "If the house was vacant, then he must have switched locations before the first kidnapping. Do we have an APB out?"
"Yeah. Amber Alerts have been broadcasting since Jason was taken, and Brent Nero's picture has been flashed over every local TV network. We got hotlines and every patrolman on the look out for him." Warrick tried to give them all a little reassurance.
The trio remained silent, the bad news weighing heavily on each person in the room. Nick pulled himself off the couch, and wandered around aimlessly in the tiny area. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, calculating every stupid mistake made during the investigation. Conrad Eckile's voice loomed in his head about solve rates, which only fueled his anger and self-recrimination. Grissom had placed faith in him, in his skills as a CSI, and as a leader. His failure was insurmountable as the case fell apart around him. Every aspect of the investigation had turned sour. His instincts had poisoned the investigation, ruined the careful detachment needed in a case like this.
A life… a little boy's life was slipping away. Nick felt the frustration mount and saw the defeated postures of the people in his command. Nick Stokes didn't allow anger to influence his behavior, but it burned and slowly ate away at all his carefully constructed walls.
Images of dinosaurs, stuffed tattered donkeys, and Pokemon attacked his memories.
Nick felt the hammer fall, the crack in his self-assured confidence. He stalked past the desk one final time. In an unexpected flourish he took his hands and threw everything off the top into a heap on the floor.
Warrick and Sara had to jump back as files, books, pens, and a coffee cup went flying off the desk. Nick took another swipe at the furniture, nearly toppling over a computer monitor, and slammed his fist down. The metal piece of furniture creaked and shuddered under the impact.
"There has to be something that we're missing!" Nick's voice was filled with pain and anger.
Sara looked at her friend with pity and back at Warrick, daring him to do something. To act.
Warrick readied himself, stood straight and walked over to the CSI who was still leaning on the desk in a huff.
"Come on, dude. You need to go home." He gently put his hand on Nick's shoulder, but he shrugged it off and stalked out of the room.
Sara turned to her coworker. "Something needs to be done, Warrick. He's not thinking straight and it's only going to hurt the case."
Warrick's face lit up in anger at callous words, but Sara's expression slipped to what was really on her mind.
"I'm worried about him. He needs to get away from this before it tears him up anymore." Sara's tone was sympathetic; her eyes betrayed her deep worry.
Warrick nodded and went after his friend in the hall. Sara remained behind in the darkened room. The place was hot and stuffy. She wandered over to the see the poor little air conditioner try to pump out colder air, but it was a beat-up system on its last leg. Sighing, she sat down on the frumpy sofa and pulled out her cell phone.
She bit her lip, knowing what she was about to do would be irreversible. Sara debated hitting the number on her speed dial, but knowing how serious of a situation this was, and did the only thing she thought could help everyone.
She hit it and waited for the other end to pick up.
tbc..
Author: Kristen999
Category: Angst/ Drama/ Case file
Spoilers: General for seasons 1-4. Set in Season 5, but no specific spoilers for it.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to CBS and all their fine writers. Please don't sue. This is just for fun.
Summary: Detachment from a case is a necessity. Obsession, however, can be an unavoidable evil. Nick battles his demons during a case of a murdered child.
Big thanks to Tinkerbell for al of her help with the edits! *hugs*
Previous chapters can be found here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2548408/1/
I'm going to try and update three times a week now.
Chapter 10
Nick walked as swiftly as his injured body would permit down the hallways of the LVPD. He kept to one side of the corridor so he could avoid bumping into anyone. Warrick remained to his left side, presumably to keep others away. It wasn't long until they found the room where Sara and Greg were holed up, both glued to their laptops.
Sara got out of her chair and moved beside the temporary shift supervisor. She eyed him critically, the summary of his injury echoing in her head. The man needed to be in a hospital. "Didn't you ask me once if I thought I was indestructible?" she challenged.
Nick scowled, disagreeing with the situation but not saying so aloud. "You can chastise me later. Have you found anything on Brent Nero?"
Sara pursed her kips, wanting to argue, to validate her point. However she shook her head solemnly. "Nothing, Nick. Not a single thing connects him to any of the other missing children."
"How long has he been in Vegas?" Nick pressed on, unconvinced at the lack of findings.
Sara searched the table for a few printouts, leafing through till she found the specific sheet. "He moved here two years ago from Salt Lake City. He resided in Utah the last fifteen years, albeit he moved around some of the smaller cities. He's coached for several school systems there, with tons of written allocates from local sports columnists."
Greg tentatively crept out of his seat and stood next to the female criminalist. "I went as far as to cross reference some of the same dates when some of the children went missing where the Todds lived. Brent Nero won several division championships during that time."
Nick walked over to a chair and dug his fingers into the back of it, absently shaking his head. It couldn't be right, he wouldn't believe it.
Greg looked at the chart he had made almost dismally. He looked over at Sara who gave him a supportive look. The rookie continued, his voice betraying how conflicted he sounded. He wanted to find the elusive connection, but there simply wasn't one. Nothing to corroborate what Nick insisted was the truth.
"You were in little league, right?" Greg asked.
Nick clawed at the chair even more, his eyes glued to the floor. He wanted to scratch the small bandages along his throat, but he kept his fingers curled into the fabric of the office chair.
The younger man gulped. Sara and Warrick looked uncomfortable at witnessing their friend's inability to accept that he was wrong when it was so obvious he needed it to be otherwise.
"The coach has to be present during every day of practice leading to the playoffs," Warrick answered for him. Everyone knew that he played ball in college and was an avid baseball player when he was younger. Both he and Nick knew the rigors of a sports schedule. It was one of many things they had in common.
Sara placed a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Not only did Nero not live in any of the states where the Todds resided, but his job kept him in the public eye and under a strict schedule. He couldn't possibly have been responsible for those missing children."
Nick kept his arms taunt over the chair. "He told me that he was assaulted by Matt Todd and went to seek his vengeance on his family, after he molested the others."
Warrick didn't want to push a person who was reaching their limit, but his partner had to regain perspective. "Brent Nero killed Johnny Todd and kidnapped Jason, but we might not know why. He probably just made everything up to screw with your head, man."
Nick bit his lip. He wasn't going to be second-guessed. He straightened his body back up, grimacing a bit, at the feeling of being incised all over again. He glanced over at Sara. "Are his parents still here?"
"Nick..."
"Never mind. I'll find which interview room they're in. Matt Todd is going to come clean about everything." Nick turned his head in the doorway. "Warrick, how's the warrant looking for Nero's house?"
"Brass is working on it. Not too long now," Warrick responded, glad to see that Nick's mind was still on the needed physical evidence for the crime at hand.
"You and Greg go to the house when it's ready to be processed." Nick was still in charge and he wasn't about to let the others doubt his ability about moving forward. "Sara, please keep digging on his background."
Nick left the trio as he prepared himself to confront the Todds again. His run-in with the murderer would be a weapon in his fight to get the child molester to admit to his past deeds.
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Jim Brass stood outside the entrance to the interview room sullenly. He eyed the criminalist's approach and didn't hide his visual assessment of the man. Nick held his arm around his middle. It was clear that every step sent a wave of pain through him, no matter how closely he guarded it. Nick came to a stop right in front of detective, his face betraying a mixture of anxiety, frustration and a little bit of annoyance.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "You all right there, Nicky?"
The CSI allowed his shoulders to slump forward. He didn't want to argue with the captain and was somewhat relived that he wasn't greeted with more hostility.
Nick didn't feel all right, not by a long shot. It hurt to breathe; every single intake of breath caused his skin to stretch, his belly to burn and the muscles of his abdomen to feel the rip in his flesh being artificially pulled back together. It took too much energy to stand erect, but did it really matter?
He gave him a wary smile, one filled with grim gratitude. "I'll be fine."
Jim snorted humorlessly. "Yeah? I didn't know you were such a gambler, Nicky. Maybe you might have more luck just playing Russian roulette, instead of running off to scenes unescorted. Leave us slow and stupid beat cops behind."
Nick stared at the captain wordlessly.
Jim shook his head and looked back at the closed door. "You glutting for more punishment, huh?" He laughed. "You're lucky that they even permitted you to speak to them again instead of clamming up. But they want to know about their child." Jim frowned. He didn't envy Nick's position at all.
"I'm not going to endanger this case. It's going to be airtight," Nick informed the other man.
The Captain cautiously stepped aside. "I'll be looking in through the two-way, they requested that my presence not be there. It's still an active investigation, but if we play along, they might slip up." Jim shrugged.
"Cool," Nick acknowledged the trust that the older detective still had in him.
The criminalist pushed open the door, and entered the quiet room. Three occupants had been talking softly, and Marisa Todd almost toppled her chair over in her haste to meet the CSI.
She rushed up to him. Nick halted abruptly at her unexpected actions. "You talked to the man who took my boy. What did he say? What did he want?" she asked in rapid succession.
Nick grimaced when she grabbed at his shirt. The older lawyer, came over to pull her away. Nick grunted slightly, but made his way over to the chair and cautiously sat down. He sat across from Matt Todd, who had not made a single move when he entered. Nick had felt the man's cold eyes on him the whole time.
The husband's hands rested on the table, his pointer finger bounced rhythmically. The newspaper articles had been ripped to shreds, little scraps littering the floor. The architect glanced down at the floor and back up at the CSI.
"Is my son alive?"
Nick felt his throat burn, the acid of his stomach churned again. "I was told that he was."
Matt Todd leaned forward, his voice hollow. "What are you doing to get him back?"
Nick coughed quietly, trying to clear his throat and retain an authoritative tone. "I'm trying to learn about the murderer. If we know more about him, his behavior, then it might lead to avenues where we can capture him."
Marisa Todd stood in the corner, the family lawyer held on to her as she sobbed quietly, her eyes bore into the back of her husband's head. "Just fucking tell him, Matt."
Nick's eyes narrowed, his hands gripped the table, as he watched the shadows flash across the other man's features. Matt Todd swallowed, shaking his head.
The CSI wasn't going to let this opportunity escape. "Is your pride worth more than your own son? Your older one was assaulted for God knows how long and brutally killed. Now you're just going to wait? Let the hours go by while Jason is held somewhere, while some monster has his way with him?" Nick's voice continued to strain as he leaned closer and closer, his hostile demeanor becoming more prevalent as it was unleashed.
"Is your miserable secret worth more than the sanity and well being of-"
"Enough! Stop it!" Matt stood up and kicked the chair. His chest was heaving and his face became beet red. The veins once again pulsated around the side of his head. He wiped a bit of spittle from his lips. "I was 25. I was a sick man. Is that what you want to hear?"
Nick raised his suddenly heavy head. He didn't give him any sympathy. "You molested Brent Nero?"
Matt Todd slapped his hands on the table, "I don't know. I never knew a Brent Nero… I knew a few boys... it's not liked I memorized their names." The enraged man stole a glance at his silent wife. "I've been married for over fifteen years. I told Marisa before we had Johnny about my previous illness."
Nick grit his teeth. "Your... illness?"
"A man can reform. After I helped bail out my church from the scandal their clergy were involved in they sent me to counseling. I've never touched another child since."
Nick glared. "But you did molest several boys in Tuscan?"
Matt Todd gaped at the criminalist. "Yes, I did."
"And now one has come back searching for you... to seek his vindication," Nick said with disgust.
Matt Todd held his head in his hands. "I don't know… I- I swear to God, I don't know."
"So, because you were too fearful of being exposed for the lie you led, you didn't report your first son missing… for what? Fear that your miserable past would come to light?" Nick accused the man.
"I thought... ya know... there was a ransom..." Matt Todd babbled, now a shell of a confident man.
Nick blinked. "Why a ransom?" When he got no response, he glanced over at the wife. Her blank look of shock and repulsion clouded her ability to answer him.
Nick stood up abruptly, biting his lip, channeling his pain. "Answer me!"
"Because I saw the bastard's tattoo at my son's party. He was there, and I wasn't sure who the hell he was. I confronted Johnny about Coach Nero. Asked him if he had ever approached him, but he just claimed ignorance at what I was talking about."
Nick stood there in absolute silence, his brain unwilling to comprehend such selfishness and reckless disregard. "You knew that the coach was some demon from your past, and you just kept silent while we ran around in circles." Nick felt his face flush in anger. "Your son Jason could have been protected and he was snatched right from under your nose."
Matt Todd knocked aside his chair and pointed his finger at the criminalist. "If you wouldn't have spent so much time harping on me, and looking for other suspects, you might have caught the asshole."
Nick felt his face redden, his hands shook. "I'm sure Detective Brass will be taking your statement about your previous crimes, Mr. Todd."
The criminalist stalked out of the interview room and slammed the door. He dragged his feet to the other side of the hall and rested his forehead against the wall, his hand clutching at his stomach.
Jim Brass came out to check on the criminalist. A few people wandered down the hall, casting the CSI an odd look. Jim exhaled a breath, walked over, and leaned against the wall with his shoulder.
"Come on, Nicky," he gently ordered and grabbed the man's elbow to lead him down the corridor.
Nick extracted his head from the cool exterior of the wall, and moved along with the older man, somewhat confused as to where they were going. After walking along for a few seconds, the captain's hand still guiding him, Nick had the presence of mind to speak up.
"Um, I've got some..."
Jim stepped in front of the criminalist, who almost bumped into him. "You're going to go lay down in an office for a few hours. If I hear a single word of defiance, then I'm sending your ass home, supervisor or not," he warned.
"Why does everyone around here, think they know what's best for me?" Nick's eyes focused on the man in front him. "I've got a case..."
"We've got a case. And that's the problem, Nicky. You keep forgetting about your subordinates. Now if you're going to provide good leadership, you need to pay attention to your surroundings," the captain explained.
"Running the unit is more than just chasing down whatever personal issues you've got, and don't tell me you're not battling something, Nick." Jim lowered his voice. "Don't let people question your judgment. You're smarter than that."
Nick placed his hands on his hips, a definite sign of protest and defensiveness.
Jim chuckled to himself at how easy it was to read the CSI in front of him.
Both men reached an empty office at the end of the hall. The captain pushed the door open. "Here's a nice comfy couch, Nick. Take a load off."
Nick looked at the sofa longingly, but he knew that Jason Todd didn't have the luxury of a quiet room. Nick turned to leave, but Jim didn't budge. The CSI tried to step around the detective, who kept intruding on his personal space. Nick couldn't move away fast enough, his reflexes dangerously dulled, his ease of movement awkward and stiff. Jim nudged him a little with the side of his body and Nick had to grab the handle of the door to keep from toppling over.
Jim wasn't a cruel man, but his demonstration of how much Nick needed to recuperate was plainly and painfully obvious. The captain watched the younger man suck in an excruciating breath, his face draining of some of his color.
"I'll wake you up in a couple of hours." Jim's expression softened.
Nick cradled his arm around his sensitive belly, and ambled his way into the darkened room. He lay on his back, swinging his legs around, till he was as flat as he could get on such a lumpy sofa. He tried to ignore the sting that lashed its way across his abdomen, the sickly feeling of his insides pushing along the sewn up middle. Feeling the exhaustion of the day, Nick closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep quicker that he thought was possible.
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There was whispering and soft voices that drifted in and out. It was confusing at first. Nick tried to wade though the seas of darkness. He opened his eyes, the glue that kept them together thick as he rubbed his hand over them. The soft muttering stopped, when he moved and the last few days came back to whack him across the skull.
He groaned when he slid his feet to the floor and got into a sitting position, the jostling doing wonders to his splitting headache. He allowed the dim room to swim into focus, and he coughed slightly as the rest of his wary body reacted to his awakened state.
Sara and Warrick were in the office, watching his every move. He didn't enjoy being observed in this matter, and he swallowed to give his dry throat some moisture. "Why are you guys here? Shouldn't you be processing Nero's house?"
Sara seemed to be holding something back and his partner was casting nervous glances his way. Nick kept from shivering from the inside of the room, the air conditioner must have been working over time in such a small space. It made the occupant feel chilled to the bone.
Warrick sighed. "There's nuthin' there."
"What?" Nick knew this wasn't the most intellectual response, but he was still trying to wrap his brain around the unexpected word.
"We went there with the warrant. Nero split, but he must have left days ago. The house was spotless. Not a single pierce of furniture, the whole place reeked of bleach."
Nick's brow furrowed. He sat there stunned. Every single avenue of the case had been stunted... they were grasping at straws.
"What about a paper trail?" he asked in a low murmur.
"We're going to work on that. See if we can find any previous address from before," Sara offered to the dejected man.
"Greg IDed the blonde hair off the donkey as Johnny Todd's. No scrap of anything belonging to the suspect," Warrick explained, updating the CSI on everything so far.
Nick looked up, his dark eyes in contrast to his pale pallor. "If the house was vacant, then he must have switched locations before the first kidnapping. Do we have an APB out?"
"Yeah. Amber Alerts have been broadcasting since Jason was taken, and Brent Nero's picture has been flashed over every local TV network. We got hotlines and every patrolman on the look out for him." Warrick tried to give them all a little reassurance.
The trio remained silent, the bad news weighing heavily on each person in the room. Nick pulled himself off the couch, and wandered around aimlessly in the tiny area. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, calculating every stupid mistake made during the investigation. Conrad Eckile's voice loomed in his head about solve rates, which only fueled his anger and self-recrimination. Grissom had placed faith in him, in his skills as a CSI, and as a leader. His failure was insurmountable as the case fell apart around him. Every aspect of the investigation had turned sour. His instincts had poisoned the investigation, ruined the careful detachment needed in a case like this.
A life… a little boy's life was slipping away. Nick felt the frustration mount and saw the defeated postures of the people in his command. Nick Stokes didn't allow anger to influence his behavior, but it burned and slowly ate away at all his carefully constructed walls.
Images of dinosaurs, stuffed tattered donkeys, and Pokemon attacked his memories.
Nick felt the hammer fall, the crack in his self-assured confidence. He stalked past the desk one final time. In an unexpected flourish he took his hands and threw everything off the top into a heap on the floor.
Warrick and Sara had to jump back as files, books, pens, and a coffee cup went flying off the desk. Nick took another swipe at the furniture, nearly toppling over a computer monitor, and slammed his fist down. The metal piece of furniture creaked and shuddered under the impact.
"There has to be something that we're missing!" Nick's voice was filled with pain and anger.
Sara looked at her friend with pity and back at Warrick, daring him to do something. To act.
Warrick readied himself, stood straight and walked over to the CSI who was still leaning on the desk in a huff.
"Come on, dude. You need to go home." He gently put his hand on Nick's shoulder, but he shrugged it off and stalked out of the room.
Sara turned to her coworker. "Something needs to be done, Warrick. He's not thinking straight and it's only going to hurt the case."
Warrick's face lit up in anger at callous words, but Sara's expression slipped to what was really on her mind.
"I'm worried about him. He needs to get away from this before it tears him up anymore." Sara's tone was sympathetic; her eyes betrayed her deep worry.
Warrick nodded and went after his friend in the hall. Sara remained behind in the darkened room. The place was hot and stuffy. She wandered over to the see the poor little air conditioner try to pump out colder air, but it was a beat-up system on its last leg. Sighing, she sat down on the frumpy sofa and pulled out her cell phone.
She bit her lip, knowing what she was about to do would be irreversible. Sara debated hitting the number on her speed dial, but knowing how serious of a situation this was, and did the only thing she thought could help everyone.
She hit it and waited for the other end to pick up.
tbc..
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Date: 2005-09-25 08:38 pm (UTC)I'm really looking forward to chapter 12. It should be interesting, considering Cath would know the REAL reason behind the way Nick is acting :)
(And on a totally unrelated note, I liked your fics about what happens after GD. After seeing the premeir episode, I like to think of your fics as a bridge, of sorts).
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Date: 2005-09-25 11:29 pm (UTC)Yes, Cath knows about Nick's past...but the poor lamb is so out of it....things will come to a head fairly quickly...am very happy you are enjoying this.
Bi compliment about my post GD fic! Thanks again-
K
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Date: 2005-09-25 08:43 pm (UTC)