No Easy Task

Chapter 9

He was floating. And he would have been perfectly content had it not been for the voices he was hearing. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, except for a male voice saying something about football. Maybe he'd left the TV on again. Must have fallen asleep to Sportscenter. Had he missed a good game? His eyes were too heavy to open and check the screen, his lids feeling like they were made of lead. Maybe he'd try again in a little bit, he thought. He just needed another 5 minutes of shut-eye. Those damn double-shifts were killers. They left him feeling so drained, like he could sleep for weeks. So for now, he'd just lay there, letting his body wake up slowly. He'd get up when he was ready. If only he could shut-off his TV without moving. The low chit-chat was distracting him from his snooze. No biggie. He'd have to get up sooner or later for work. Get back to working on the Quince party murders. They never really got that far into it for some reason. Why was that? They'd come back to the lab, had placed all their evidence in one of the layout rooms. Greg got to whining about something or the other. Then his grandmother called him for the thousandth time about the stupid birthday check. He'd gone to the bank, hadn't he? His mind got little fuzzy as he tried to remember. He had to think for a minute. He'd left the lab, was going to the bank when everyone started asking for breakfast. In his mind he could picture being at the bank and scribbling his name on the back of a check and then….it all came back at once: the gunshots, someone kicking him, a gun in his face, a teary pregnant woman, a large, armed man pacing a lobby, and Jim asking him if he was okay. The images were running through his head like a trailer for some bad B movie. They came so fast he startled awake, his eyes flying open as he gasped for breath. He wanted to move, to get up but he was flat on his back and couldn't get his left arm move from where it lay across his middle. That freaked him out even more. He clenched his eyes shut as a bolt of pain shot across his shoulder and chest. The voices were back and he could make out what they were saying, to relax and take a few deep breaths. Okay. So he did. He wished he was back to the floating feeling; he was feeling no pain then.

After a minute, his breathing was back to normal. The pain had eased off a little. He opened his eyes and saw the worried faces of his colleagues. They were all gathered around him, Catherine and Warrick to his right and Greg and Sara to his left. Where was Grissom, he wondered?

"Nicky?" It was only one word, but he knew Catherine was in full-fledged motherly-mode.

He laid there and took another minute to put the pieces together – the bank robbery, getting shot, Jack, the fact that he must be in the hospital. The extra minute only increased the team's looks of concern.

Wanting to rid them of those looks, he responded, "Yeah." That didn't sound like him. His mouth was dry, but he swallowed anyway.

"Hey, bro, good to see you're back to the land of the living." The worry was gone and Warrick gave him a genuine smile of relief.

"Yeah, Nick. If you didn't want to feed us, you could have just said so." Greg hoped the quip would hide how nervous he'd been feeling for his friend.

Greg's hair was spikier than ever, Nick noticed. He wondered if he had ever seen it that crazy. "Things I'll do…" Nick croaked.

The door opened and Sara and Greg suddenly moved away from the bed to make room for a short Latino man in a white lab coat, his salt and pepper hair and matching goatee making him appear distinguished. "Mr. Stokes? Well, we're certainly glad to see you're awake. You've had a lot of people waiting to see you. I'm Dr. Rodriguez. I've been taking care of you since you were brought in."

"How long?" Nick replied, wincing at how parched he was.

Noticing his patient's discomfort, the doctor filled a small pink cup with water and brought it to his lips. "Small sips for now, Mr. Stokes." Having lifted his head to take a drink, Nick took the prescribed number of sips and placed his head back on the pillow. Just moving his head caused some pain.

"You've been here over 24 hours now, Mr. Stokes."

"It's Nick. Call me Nick." He didn't like being called 'Mr. Stokes', reminded him of his father.

"Nick it is." The doctor read the monitors next to the bed and scribbled some information onto the chart, then placed it on the tray table. He pulled out his pen light and checked his patient's pupils causing him to hiss in discomfort.

Satisfied with what he saw, he returned the penlight to his pocket. "Sorry about that, Nick. I needed to make sure everything was okay there with your head."

He heard someone snort followed by a mumbled 'I don't think that's possible'. He recognized the voice – Greg. Nick turned to the doctor. "So….what's the story?"

Dr. Rodriguez took in a breath. "Well, you want the full length version or the Cliff Notes?"

"Cliff Notes."

The Latino man grabbed the chart and scanned it just to make sure he didn't forget anything. "Well, you were brought in with a GSW to the left shoulder. Bullet went out the back, hit no bones, but you did have a good amount of muscle damage. Fixed that up and immobilized your arm there so you don't jostle your shoulder. Lost a lot of blood before you got here, so we had to top you off. You have extensive bruising to your chest and abdomen. X-rays revealed couple of fractured ribs. Your friends told me you've had those before, so I don't need to tell you too much about that. You received a pretty good knock to the head. CT scan ruled out any intercranial bleeding. You have a mild concussion, which I am also told you've experienced before, so that was a concern. Last, but not least, you had a couple of deep lacerations on your head. They've been sutured up and should heal nicely."

"That was the short version?"

Dr. Rodriguez laughed. "Well, you were a mess when you came in here, so yes."

"How long am I staying?"

"Two or three more days at the very least. We have you on a pretty heavy dose of antibiotics to make sure no infection sets in. And you're on the good stuff to keep you comfortable while you stay with us. Another dose of which you're due to get really soon. It will make you very drowsy. If you want to visit with your friends here, I can let the nurse know to hold off for a little while longer. That okay?"

"Yeah."

The doctor closed the chart and was getting ready to head out of the room. "I'll let her know. If you don't have any questions, Nick, I'll see you during the evening rounds?"

"No. Not right now."

"Okay, see you then." With that, the distinguished Dr. Rodriguez left the room.

Nick fumbled with the panel on the bed rail.

Sara approached the bed again. "What are you doing, Nick?"

"Hard to see you guys flat on my back."

"Let me get that." Sara reached over the rail and elevated his head a little, not wanting to raise it too much.

"Thanks, Sar. Better." His colleagues were easier to see now. Nick scanned the room and finally spotted Grissom just beyond the foot of his bed. "Hey, Gris."

Grissom nodded at the younger man. "How are you feeling, Nicky?"

"Not too bad so long as I don't move." Nick ran his right hand across the top of his head, taking stock of the bandages there. His fingers lingered over a small portion of shaved scalp that was left uncovered by one of the bandages.

Warrick grinned. He could read Nick Stokes. "You're gonna be sporting some 'do there, boss."

"Yeah, guess so."

"It's not so bad, Nick. Maybe Greg can match the other side. Maybe even match it to the way he wore it a few years back, remember?" Catherine smiled for the first time in two days.

"I think I'll stick to my cap."

"Sorry, man. Cap along with all your clothes are in evidence. We'll have to get you a new one," Warrick responded.

Catherine grabbed his right hand, making sure not to mess with the pulse oximeter on his index finger. "Doc said that despite the laundry list of things he had to fix, you'll heal completely."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Forgot to ask. How long til I'm normal?"

Gil Grissom could also read Nick Stokes. "On leave? Probably a few weeks. You'll probably need a few months of physical therapy to regain full range of motion in your shoulder, then you'll need to be cleared by your doctor and retake the firearms test before going back out into the field. You'll be in the lab until then."

"Sounds like fun."

"Better than the alternative. Got lucky it ended the way it did," Sara piped in.

Nick shook his head. "I don't think it really would have ended any other way."

They looked at him quizzically.

"They were young and desperate and made a really stupid choice. Jack had no intention of taking off with me. He had no idea where he would have gone much less what he would have done with me."

Sara's emotions were still fresh from the day before. "We saw what he did to you already. I don't want to think of what he would have done if he'd taken off with you, Nick."

"He shot me in all the confusion of the robbery. But I don't think he would have made the conscious choice to kill me after," Nick reasoned.

"Yeah, well, Brass said he's been quiet as a mouse since they took him in. He's got plenty of charges to face as it is. Guess he's contemplating his future in prison," Warrick replied.

Grissom pursed his lips and gave Nick a concerned look.

"I know what you're thinking, Gris. My heart's not bleeding for the guy and I'm not willing to see him go scott-free or anything. But I talked to him. I saw him in there. Give me the benefit of the doubt." A little irritation slipped out.

"Got to give him that. Even Mary said the same thing." Catherine didn't want to see him get upset.

"Yeah. Mary, is she okay?" Nick had almost forgotten about the poor woman.

Catherine patted his arm. "She's fine, singing your praises in fact."

"Didn't take much to convince Jack to let her go - painted her as an emotional, always-gotta-pee, about-to-give-birth troublesome hostage. Some of the looks she shot me, thought she was going to start arguing with me." Nick's drawl was a little thicker.

"In this case, I don't think she minded." Greg said.

Nick's eyes were starting to droop. He was getting tired before even having been given his next round of pain meds. And that didn't get past his very observant friends.

Grissom approached the bed. "Nick, we're going to head out. Shift starts in an hour."

"Yeah, Nicky. We'll come by tomorrow to see you." Catherine bent down to kiss his head and stepped away.

"By the way, man, your nurse, Jackie, is really hot. I'll definitely come see you tomorrow." Greg nodded.

Sara smacked Greg on the shoulder. "She's nice, Nick. Don't give her any trouble."

Warrick approached the bed and gave Nick a gentle version of their ghetto handshake. "See ya, man. Feel better."

"Thanks, Rick."

And with that the CSIs left the room. As the door closed, Nick realized how lucky he was to be alive. With a smile on his face, his eyes drifted shut only to open again moments later, when a nurse walked in with a tray in her hands.

She approached his bed, set the tray down and checked the monitors. "Hi, Mr. Stokes. Glad to see you're awake. I'm your nurse, Jackie."

The smile on Nick's face grew wider.

"Well, from the smile on your face, I'd have to say you had a good visit with your friends, huh?"

"Yeah. And it's Nick."

"Okay, Nick. Dr. Rodriguez left orders for some pain meds. I was just waiting for your visitors to leave so I could give them to you, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Good." Jackie pulled a few syringes from the tray and deposited their contents into the port of his IV. "You have a good nap, Nick. See you in a bit"

Nick didn't even have a chance to respond, the medications taking effect almost as soon as she had given them to him. He fell back into a restful sleep thinking Greg was right.

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3 months later

Nick walked into the lab a couple of hours before shift carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder. He normally wouldn't have been there that early, but he had just come from court and didn't see the point in going all the way home when he was already so much closer to work anyway. He also had to admit he was excited. Tonight would be his first night back in the field since the bank robbery a few months back. He'd worked his ass off in physical therapy to get his shoulder back to normal. And although his shoulder would bother him after partaking in physical activities, like a game of one-on-one with Warrick, he had his full range of motion back. With that came the okay from his doctor to go out into the field and then the re-taking and passing of the department's firearms exam. He was a free man.

Nick stopped at reception, said hello to Judy and grabbed several messages and a light blue envelope from his 'in' box. He was perusing the messages when he caught sight of a certain redhead. "Hey, Catherine. I thought I was going to beat everyone in today. What're you doing here so early?"

Catherine stopped. She had been headed to the break room for a much needed cup of coffee. "Hey, Nick. No, I have you all beat today. Vega called me in. He hauled in a suspect in that Summerland murder case I told you about yesterday."

"Yeah? How'd that go?"

She signaled for him to follow her, not letting anyone keep her from getting some coffee. "Come with me and I'll tell you."

Nick followed her down the hall and into the break room, listening to her tale of the murder for hire. He was loosening his tie when she noticed what he was wearing. "What's with the monkey suit today, Nick? You don't need to dress up for your first night back in the field." She offered him a cup of the brew.

"Thanks, Cath. I didn't dress for you guys. I was in court."

She looked at the date on her watch and realized what day it was. "Oh. That was today? How did it go?"

Nick had been at the sentencing hearing for Jack. Jackson Stanford. D.A. had wanted to take this case to trial. The story had been big news, especially because a member of the LVPD was a victim. They were going to get him on a number of charges – armed robbery, false imprisonment, attempted felony murder, assault, unlawful possession of a firearm. Once he'd been booked, his prints matched unidentified prints found at several B&Es along with Tommy's. They had planned on getting him for those too. Nick was almost sure they had checked the kid's driving record just in case he had any unpaid parking tickets. The D.A. was up for re-election and assured the public that he wouldn't rest until Jackson Stanford received the harshest punishment allowed by law. Then Jack had pleaded guilty ending the D.A.'s chance to play crime-fighting hero. Jack wasn't going to put up a fight. He'd even been given a psych evaluation because it had been feared he was depressed. He was indeed, but it was determined he was not a danger to himself. The judge certainly didn't want a media circus in his courtroom and promptly, or as promptly as the court docket allowed, set the sentencing hearing for the same day Nick was to head back into the field.

"About the way those thing usually go, I guess. He won't be getting out anytime soon."

"Did you have to speak at all?"

"No. I had nothing to say. I just needed to be there for some reason." Nick nodded and looked down at the light blue envelope that had been left for him. It was addressed to Nick Stokes c/o Las Vegas Crime Lab. He began to open it.

"Yeah, I gotcha." Catherine sipped her coffee and sat down on the sofa. She glanced back at Nick, seeing a big smile spread across his face. Wondering what could have put that expression on his face, she asked, "What are you looking at Nicky? Jackie sending you love notes again? You know Greg still claims he saw her first."

Nick blushed at her comment. "No, nothing to do with Jackie. Take a look at his." He walked across the room, sat next to Catherine and handed her the photo card he had received.

Catherine took the card, her features softening as she stared at the puffy red face of a newborn baby boy. The bottom of the card reading 'Robert Nicholas Jamison, 7 lbs, 11 oz'. "How adorable! See, I told you you were her hero. She even named her kid after you to prove it."

Nick blushed even more which caused Catherine to chuckle. She handed the card back to him and got up from the couch, patting his leg on the way. "You did good, Nicky." With that she left the room.

"Yeah. Guess I did," he whispered to himself. He was staring at the card when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket and looked at the number calling. Another smile spread across his face and he answered it on the second ring. "Hey, sweetie."

The End

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Hope everyone enjoyed the ending! I had a blast writing this. Thanks again to everyone for their wonderful reviews.