A/N: I've had this idea bouncing around in my head ever since I watched Gum Drops . . . I wish the writers could pull something together like that every week. Hope you enjoy. - Jac
I think I wanted this more for him than I even did myself. He spent days trying to convince me that Cassie was alive. Nick wasn't about to leave Cassie when he found her; he asked me to make sure the paperwork was done. I knew that Nick felt a bond with Cassie that I would never understand, so I filled out forms, some in triplicate.
The sheriff called to say that Nick was at the hospital still soaking wet. He asked me to bring him some dry clothes and to stop by and talk him into eating something. I had to laugh. Nick was normally the one that took care of the rest of us. He was always the one bugging me to eat something or to take a nap while things were slow.
I found myself standing in front of a store that I had refused to go into for years. It reminded me too much of my childhood. My mother did most of our shopping at Walmart. I could still remember my father handing her a twenty dollar bill with the parting words of you'd better come back in no more than a half hour with change and a receipt. I would beg my mother to buy me a book, but if she did, she would surely be beaten later in the night when my father believed that we were sleeping. I hated Walmart.
I bought him clothing in sizes that I hoped would fit. I bought Cassie cranyons, paper, and several books. It wouldn't bring her family back, but I hoped it would provide a little comfort. That little girl had a long road in front of her; the rest of her life wouldn't be easy. It would be an uphill battle that I was intimately familiar with. Cassie would always feel like damaged goods no matter if she managed to salvage her life.
"Nick, you should change," I said as I walked into the family waiting room, "I sent Greg back with the evidence and our bags."
"Thanks. Could you wait for the doctor? He was going to do a rape kit," Nick said as he stared off into space.
"Sure," I said as I watched him lift himself off the chair and walk away with one of the Walmart bags.
"Some chicken soup," the sheriff said as he sat next to me.
"Thank you," I said as I accepted the large warm Tupperware container.
"I need you to take Cassie to Las Vegas. We don't have a social worker here. We never needed to," he explained.
"It'll be no trouble. We'll leave tonight after the doctor medically clears her," I said with a half-hearted smile.
"That little girl doesn't have any family left and it's because of three teenage boys. Seems too big city to happen in such a small town," he lamented as he stared at the tiled floor.
"It does. I guess no town in immune from that kind of violence. It's not right," I replied.
"Thank you for finding them so fast. I need to get home to my family. Good night, ma'am," he said as he tipped his hat before walking away. When we rolled into this town, I thought the fictional Mayberry actually did exist. I guess I was wrong. Even in the smallest, quietest towns there was violence. I should have known that, but it was nice to pretend there were places where everything was perfect. It was comforting.
"Are you with Cassie?" an older woman asked. She was dressed in a white nursing uniform that looked like it came straight from the fifties. She smiled, "You can come in and see her."
I uncomfortably got out of my chair and walked into the large hospital room adorned in chipping green tiles and pea-green paint. Cassie looked tiny in the large bed with white starched sheets. Her hair still looked matted. I cursed myself for not thinking about the practical things when I was at Walmart. I should have bought the little girl something pretty for her hair, so she would feel pretty again.
"Cassie, I bought you some things to do until you can leave the hospital," I said. I almost said until you go home, but she didn't have a home anymore. All Cassie had was a large home covered in her family's blood. It was all that I had when I was her age.
"Where's the man that found me?" Cassie whispered as she dug through the Walmart bag. I had forgotten her bubblegum.
"Nick went to get some dry clothes on," I said as I sat in a chair next to her bed.
"I'm going to make him a card," Cassie stated in a monotone voice. I knew what she was doing; she was trying to pretend that the last few days didn't exist. I think I made the police officer that carried me out of my father's crime scene a card. His name was Kurt. He was a tall African American man that told me everything would be okay. He brought a teddy bear to the hospital for me. I think he might have held my hand when I was getting stitches to close the gashes I got on my arm when I tried to pull the knife out of my mother's hands. I don't think I'll ever forget him. Just like Cassie will never forget Nick.
"He'll like that, sweetie," I said as I ran my hand across her forehead. She smiled.
I sat there for a few minutes while Cassie diligently began to work on Nick's card. I was so glad that I was wrong. Nick needed this little girl to be alive just as much as I needed him to be alive.
"I'm going to go find, Nick. Do you need anything, Cassie?"
"Could I have some juice?"
"I'll go ask the doctor," I said as I got up and left her room.
Nick was standing near the doorway. He looked uncomfortable in the hooded sweatshirt that was maybe one size too small. It made me smile. He shifted uneasily.
"Is she okay?" he asked.
"All she needed was a bandage. Are you okay?"
"It wasn't her day."
"I know. I'm sorry I said all that stuff about statistics."
"It's okay. If she hadn't been alive . . . I would have need to remember that odds were . . ."
"Hey, it's okay. She's okay," I said as I wrapped my arms around him in a slightly awkward embrace. I could feeling him shaking and hear him quietly sobbing much like he did that night six months ago. He wrapped him arms around me and pulled me closer.
"Sar, I need to take her statement. I need to do this," Nick whispered in a slightly hoarse voice.
"I'll be right outside the door if you need me."
"Thank you," Nick said as he pulled away. He grasped my right hand in his two much larger hands. He squeezed my hand, then drew it to his lips and kissed it.
"Thank you for being an optimist. I sometimes forget that there are good people out there. I guess I forget that good things can happen," I replied awkwardly, "She's making you a card."
I could see him swallow hard. There were still tears in his eyes. He had a look about him that was so much softer than the persona he had adopted since he was buried. There was something about this little girl that had gotten inside him and woke up whatever it was that he was trying to put to bed. The glimmer of hope in his eyes had been reawakened. For the first time in months, I knew he would be okay.
"You'll wait for me?" Nick asked.
"I have to. Greg took my SUV back to the lab. If you need me . . . "
"Sar . . . I don't think I can leave her here in this hospital."
"We have to drive her back to Las Vegas. They don't have a social worker in the town. Nick, be careful. You're going to have to say good-bye to her."
"I don't know if I can."
"You'll have to. When I said good-bye to Brenda Collins, I could physically feel my heart being torn out. Just don't get too attached," I warned as I ran my hand along the profile of his cheek.
"I'm glad you're here," Nick said with a half-hearted smile.
"I'm proud of you. Grissom would be proud of you too."
"I'll go get her statement."
"I'm going to look into getting some supper to go with the chicken soup the sheriff dropped off. I wanted to go get some gum and a hairbrush for Cassie. I forgot to get her something to wear for the ride to Vegas."
"And you're lecturing me about not getting too attached?"
"I know, but she deserves something nice. I know what it's like to be in her shoes . . . without a family . . . seeing your father dead," I rambled, "I want to give her something nice, so when she restarts her life . . . "
"I forgot about . . . "
"It's okay."
"Sidle, you talk about there not being good people, but you don't see yourself. Christ, you saved my life . . . and I'll never know how to thank you."
"Nicky," I began, but he put a finger over my lips before I could start.
"Every time I look at you, I know if you can save yourself . . . I know I can too. It makes me want to keep in touch with Cassie, so she knows that people can save themselves . . . . that there's hope. The world is a huge Pandora's Box, but at the bottom of the box there was hope. You pretend you don't feel it, but I saw it in your eyes when I was on that gurney," Nick said. I could feel the tears burning my eyes. I never thought about my life like that.
"You don't have to say anything. Thank you," Nick said before he pressed his lips to mine. "Go get some supper. We can go home soon."
If that was what made the difference, I hoped Cassie could see the hope in Nick's eyes.
FIN