A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, I understand it confused quite a few of you; some of you got it though so YAY! If you're really confused, let me know and I'll explain. This chapter isn't as confusing – I hope. Please r/r and let me know what you think. Thankies =D Also anyone wanna let me in on what canon is? And fanon for that matter. Check out my profile… I'm slow.
Nick grunted as answer and opened his eyes slightly to watch Sara walk into the hospital room. She took a seat on the bed to face him next to his feet.
She sighed tiredly. "How you doing?"
He grunted again, not bothering to try and form real words or make real movement.
Sara shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "Rough night eh?"
Nick rolled his eyes. He wasn't really in the mood for talking.
"You been to see Greg yet?" Her question was met with silence. "You should, he's been asking after you." She sighed as he still refused to answer. "Nick… don't you think—"
"No." He interrupted before she could get any further.
"You don't even know what I was going to say." She told him frowning.
"So?" He asked, closing his eyes again.
Sara paused a moment, watching him. His face had guilt written all over it, and she sighed, shaking her head. "Brass caught one of the guys from the scene." She said after a second or two.
Nick opened his eyes again. "Yeah?" He asked.
Sara nodded. "He's in a cell at the station now."
Sara paused before speaking again. "It wasn't your fault Nick. It was his fault. And now he'll pay for it."
Nick averted his eyes from her, refusing to reply.
Sara sighed. "I know you blame yourself Nick. You have guilt written all over you. But it's—"
"He's just a kid Sara." He interrupted again.
Sara frowned. "Hardly Nick, he's twenty si—"
"I don't care how old he is Sara. He's just a kid to me. I was supposed to look out for him and he ended up getting shot."
"In the arm!" She replied immediately, trying to hide her amusement. "He's fine. He's showing off his scar to everyone and bragging about it."
Nick's was unconvinced. "What about his head? Huh? What about his head, and all that blood?" He asked stubbornly, trailing off slightly towards the end.
Sara shook her head, smiling. "So he bleeds? He's a normal human being after all! His head is fine, a little bit of a mark but nothing permanent."
"I thought he was dead." Nick told her quietly, not enjoying their conversation.
Sara laughed, but was interrupted before she could say anything. "Oh well I'm glad you find it so amusing."
She laughed again and shook her head. "Aw Nicky, he's not dead, he's just fine. Go up and see him."
Nick shook his head. "He wasn't moving Sara. There was blood everywhere and…" He trailed off and Sara smiled sadly at him.
"He's fine Nick. He's okay. Go and see him. Prove it to yourself."
Nick sighed and shook his head slightly.
"He doesn't blame you Nick." She paused, watching his reaction. "But he'll be annoyed if you don't go see him. Just go say hi. What's the worst that could happen?"
"He'll spit in my face and tell me he hates me for letting him get shot."
Sara rolled her eyes and gave him a dry look. "Nick… let's try and be realistic here okay?"
Nick grunted, going back to his original form of communication.
"You can't stay in your room all night, you're going to have to see him sooner or later."
Nick didn't reply, staring stubbornly up at the ceiling avoiding her gaze.
She rolled her eyes again and stood up, smirking to herself. "Fine then, have it your way. But just to let you know, Catherine's on her way back here in…" She looked at her watch. "Oh about five minutes… so uh… have fun."
Nick sat up slightly to look at her. "Wait… she is?" He asked.
Sara nodded, pulling the door to his room open. "Yup."
He hesitated, indecision on his face. "I… are you lying?"
"Nope." Sara replied, smiling at his reaction. Catherine had been fussing over Nick and Greg all evening, seeing Nick in such a state at the crime scene having thrown her for a loop. Sara knew for a fact it was driving Nick insane, he hated being fussed over and Catherine had already been down to his room four times that evening.
He paused again, his mind going backwards and forwards over his choices. "Okay, fine. Wait a minute for me to get dressed."
Sara nodded and smiled; glad she had managed to convince him to leave his room. He appeared a moment later, dressed in the jeans and baggy t-shirt Warrick had picked up for him on his way to the hospital. "Ready?" She asked.
Martin Wilson stared at the man in front of him, shifting nervously in his seat. His 'neighbour' had always creeped him out. Always. Just thinking about him made Martin shudder, and having to talk to him was like being stuck in some weird freakish nightmare.
He was never quite there, but always full aware of what was going on. He'd look at you, but not really see you. Tell you things without seeming to believe you'd do them, but be fully confident you'd carry them out.
Martin hated people like that. Hated being freaked out. People who made his skin crawl usually got what was coming to them. Martin was talented like that. He was strong, powerful… violent. That was how he ended up where he was, so he had no problem with hurting people. His neighbour however, as much as he wanted to, Martin couldn't just squash, he couldn't just smack him and be done with it all. No, he couldn't do it. He didn't know why though. And he hated it. He hated it a lot.
"Well?" The voice broke Martin from his thoughts.
Martin stuttered slightly. "Ye… yeah, it's done. It's done."
The man in front of him nodded. "Good." He paused, and Martin knew better than to get up. "Martin?"
"The mind… is a very complex thing. Its control over the body is astounding."
Martin nodded. He didn't care about the mind, or the body. He only cared about getting away, even if it was back to his cell, even if it meant ending his period of 'free-time' for today.
"The heart however, the proverbial heart, is even more astounding. Something that does not truly exist can create emotions so strong that they affect our whole existence." He paused and Martin shifted. "Do you know what some of the most powerful emotions are Martin?"
Martin shook his head.
"Love, hate, fear, grief… and guilt." Nigel Crane studied Martin's reaction, waiting to see if realisation had dawned yet. "Do you understand what's going on yet Martin?"
Martin shook his head again.
"Emotion is strong enough to affect our entire existences. The strongest can affect us to such an extent that we become weak. Our mind's, become weak."
Martin nodded slowly.
"So… if person A is being affected by such a strong emotion, their mind becomes weak." Nigel spoke slowly; knowing speed would only confused the large oafish man before him. "When person A's mind is weak, person B Martin, can easily gain control." He paused as Martin processed what he had just been told.
"Have you ever read Othello Martin? Or seen it performed perhaps?"
Martin nodded slowly, unsurely, hoping he had given the right answer.
"The play, as you know, is set around and named after the tragic hero Othello. It begins after he has just married his wife Desdemona. He is in love with her Martin, so in love. And it makes his mind weak. So weak in fact that Iago - the villain, gains control. Enough control to drive Othello to turn against his best friend Cassio, enough control to drive him to murdering the wife he loved so much. Iago had complete and utter control over Othello, over his actions, his beliefs, his life." He paused again, waiting patiently for a moment. "Do you understand Martin?"
Martin nodded. "Yes."
Nigel smiled. "Good."