A/N: The author of this work does not in any way profit from the story. All creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). CSI:Crime Scene Investigation is the property of CBS

This story was written for the Sixth Nick Fic Song Challenge and was inspired by the song If Today was Your Last Day written by Chad Kroker as performed by Nickelback.

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Rain

Nick dragged a breath of air into his lungs then exhaled slowly. There was a slight tang of ozone lingering in the air. A storm had just passed leaving the sky grey but the air fresh and clean. Nick took another breath, stretching the kink out of his back then turning to survey the scene he was working.

The section of road was closed, still wet from the rainfall and littered with debris. He was in the middle of meticulously marking and noting each shard of glass, each shred of rubber and metal; all coming from a stolen truck now embedded in the wall of a local convenience store.

He had fallen into a hypnotic rhythm as he worked. Bend, place marker, lift camera and snap, step forward. Bend, place marker, lift camera and snap, step forward.

A kind of hush had fallen over the scene, the kind that comes after a rainfall. A bird chirped softly somewhere in the distance. The chatter from Mitch's police car radio was low, as if someone had turned down the volume. Even Greg Sanders was quiet for once, crouched near the stolen vehicle looking intently at the tires and scribbling something in his notebook.

Nick breathed in again then continued his work. Bend, place marker, lift camera and snap, step forward.

Although the stretch of road was closed, traffic was still moving in the other lane and the whizz of passing cars was muted to a low hum. The occasional splash of water didn't bother Nick. Despite the cloudy sky it was humid and warm and the droplets landing on his skin soon evaporated.

He worked in silence. Bend, place marker, lift camera and snap, step forward. It wasn't long until he reached the last shard of glass. Bend, place marker, lift camera and snap, straighten.

Nick started to turn around then stood frozen, staring disbelieving at the sight of an SUV, skidding on the wet pavement. It was headed straight for him!

Time stopped.

In that frozen moment Nick could smell the burn of rubber accompanying the squeal of tires. He could clearly see the driver through the windshield of the vehicle, panicked and fearful, knuckles white as hands grasped the steering wheel. Nick noted Greg, rising from his crouch, hand outstretched as if he could get to Nick in time. He saw Mitch unfolding his arms and pushing himself off the police car he'd been leaning on.

In the infinity of a split second Nick found his mind flooded with thoughts. He registered mild surprise that the cliché was true; memories and random ideas that sprang from nowhere flashed before him.

He remembered.

Standing at the top of a slide; trying to ignore the other children laughing at him as he worked up the courage to fling himself down. He could feel again the whoosh of air rushing past his face when he slid, landing on the sand and laughing.

Riding bikes all day with Susie Hobbes, his best friend for a summer before her family moved away. They were sharing chocolate and candy in the park, playing on the swings, playing tag; chasing each other and laughing.

The loss of his innocence briefly came to him but he pushed it aside. It was over. He had dealt with it and moved on.

It seemed he spent endless days at school when he struggled to wake up in the morning but paid attention in class and studiously finished his homework each night.

He had enjoyed endless summers watching sunsets. Taking on a summer job or travelling when he had saved enough money.

He remembered.

His first kiss, nervous and blundering.

The first time he knew he wanted to be a cop. The first time he stood in front of the mirror wearing the uniform; trying to keep that proud look from his face so he looked professional.

Telling his Captain he was moving to forensics. Tossing his badge on the desk with a thump.

He remembered and the memories flew faster as the SUV inched closer to him, still squealing and swerving.

Walking into the crime lab in Vegas. Meeting Grissom. His first case and his hundredth.

Kristy Hopkins and her warm body underneath him as he slid inside, hot and throbbing as he thrust hard and fast. The aftermath of her death; embarrassment and guilt and grief.

Falling through a window, expending his breath in a whoosh as he landed with a hard thump, surrounded by glass. Staring at a gun held to his head, angry and scared.

Waking up in a see-through coffin, surrounded by dirt. Pointing a gun to his own head, trembling and exhausted.

Earnestly explaining to his sobbing mother that he wanted to be cremated and not buried after he died.

His first day on the job after his kidnapping. The looks and whispers people thought he hadn't noticed.

Nick stared at the driver of the SUV still bearing down on him, he barely noticed Greg still rising from his crouch with a shout forming on his lips. He didn't see Mitch breaking into a run. He simply stood, riveted as he relived decisions, choices and consequences.

Moving on, making friends, solving cases.

Finding Cassie. Finding peace. Finding purpose.

Losing Grissom. Losing Sara. Losing Warrick.

Grief, love, sorrow, anger, lust, indifference and exhilaration. All the emotions of his life came to him in a rush, one after the other.

In the eternity of that moment with his life flashing before his eyes, Nick squared his shoulders and faced his fate. In spite of the sorrow, in spite of the tragedies, he admitted to himself he had lived a good life.

He looked directly into the eyes of the driver of the vehicle, noted clinically that they were blue and the SUV was black.

Nick took a deep breath, braced for the impact with his mind and conscience clear. Whether he lived or died…he had no regrets.