Summary. . . . . . . Post Gedda my take on what I would like to see happen next. My first ever CSI fic, be gentle.
Disclaimer. . . . . Not mine, if they were then the aftermath of Grave Danger would have been looked into further. Was it just me or did the build of the guy who took Nick not match Kelly's Dad? Was there yet another player? Curious!
The whole of the diner stood still as the sound of the gunshots permeated the air, Nick's chair falling to the ground finally breaking the uneasy silence as he flew to his feet and began running for the doors. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but he instinctively knew Warrick was involved. Turning into the dark, dank alleyway, once he had reached outside, his feet began to falter, his hands rising to the heavens, as he took in the sight of his best friends body slumped over the wheel of his car. Nick forced himself to keep going forward, hoping against hope that there was still a chance.
He forgot all his training, didn't really give a crap, as he pulled the car door open. Reaching out a shaky hand he searched for a pulse, almost crying out in relief as he found one. Resting Warrick's head back against the seat, Nick attempted to wake the gravely ill man, shouting at the other officers standing around to call for help.
"Warrick? Hey man, c'mon buddy, don't you do this! Don't you dare do this!" Nick felt his eyes moisten in happiness as pain filled glassy green eyes finally rewarded him by opening. The fleeting moment of joy though vanished as Warrick's gaze turned his way. Warrick was giving up, letting go, dying.
"Please buddy, please don't give up, please just hold on for me." Nick pleaded. But it was no use, as Warrick's hand reached for his, and Nick grasped it hoping that his strength would pass through the connection, the light that had once shone brightly through dancing green eyes finally flickered out.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Nick refused to except it. Warrick wouldn't give up without a fight, he hadn't given up on Nick when Nick was taken, and Nick sure as hell wouldn't give up on Warrick now.
"Somebody give me a hand." Nick shouted as he attempted to remove Warrick from his car. "C'mon, we need to start CPR, c'mon!" When nobody made an effort to move forward, Nick begged. "Please, please someone help me, please?"
"He's gone buddy." A nameless officer spoke up eventually.
"No!" Nick furiously shouted back. "He's not dead! He's not!"
Finally removing Warrick from the car, Nick started breathing for his partner, willing him to come back. "C'mon Ric' fight. Don't you do this to us, don't you do this to me. Fight it damn you!"
When after a few minutes he had received no response, anger briefly took over his sorrow, his fists pounding into his partner's chest. The arrival of the paramedics and their attempts to remove Nick had his anger and his fists lashing their way. Guilt crashing over him as he turned his gaze back Warrick's way and he realized he had hurt his brother, his anger diminishing as he raised Warrick's body and cradled his head against his chest. The entire world seemed to come to a halt as all consuming grief washed over him.
Denial replaced grief quite quickly afterwards.
He didn't hear the rest of the teams arrival, didn't see Grissom's stoic disbelief, Catherine's anguished features, or Greg's silent tears. He didn't even see Super Dave's arrival. He was too lost inside his own mind. Hands reached for him again as Dave attempted to check over Warrick's body, but Nick was unwilling to let go, unwilling to accept. He lashed out again at anyone who came near, misguided in his belief that by keeping hold of Warrick there was still a chance, that there was still a way back for him, that he was still alive. Deep inside he knew that once he relinquished hold, everything would change, all would be lost, and this nightmare would be real, that Warrick would be gone.
He didn't know how long he sat there, mumbling nonsense into his brother's ear, whispering words of encouragement, murmuring pleas of need. He didn't know how many hands tried to get him to leave, tried to get him to allow Warrick's body to be taken, his grief taking away every ounce of rational thought. It was only when he felt a presence crouch down next to him, when he felt a familiar strong hand grip his nape that he allowed his gaze to turn away from his fallen friend. As he looked into Brass' guilt riddled, sorrow filled eyes, Nick composure finally broke and the tears he had been holding back were released in gut wrenching, heart breaking sobs. As he allowed himself to be pulled into the Captain's embrace, Nick allowed reality to finally take hold.
Warrick was gone.
His partner, his best friend, his brother.
A.N. . . . . . Short I know, but I just had to do this. Thanks for reading, Peanut x