Find me in the River (9/10)

[dipenates]

Title: Find me in the River
Rating:  R
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Fandom: CSI
Characters:  Nick/Greg, the workforce of the Las Vegas Crime Lab night shift, some of the Stokes family
Length: ~32,000 (Chapter One: 3,536)
Spoilers: 2.03 - Overload
Summary: For Nick and Greg to get it together, Nick has to acknowledge some things about himself that he's been hiding for years. When he starts to come out to colleagues and family, a number of lives are affected.
Warnings: Child abuse. Domestic violence. Homophobic violence. Contains details of a number of crime scenes.


Ripples come and ripples go

“Nicky, have you seen my blue shirt? I want to wear it to work and I could have sworn that it was here in my drawer.” Greg was on his knees in front of the drawers in Nick’s bedroom.

 

Nick walked back into the room, rolling his eyes. “G, you have fourteen blue shirts. Which one are we talking about?”

Greg put his hand on his hip. “My navy Hugo Boss polo shirt.”

Nick grinned. “We got that a little, uh, dirty last week. It’s in the laundry basket.”

“Damn.” Greg frowned. “This living between two apartments is seriously cramping my style.”

Nick pulled a green shirt out of Greg’s drawer. “Wear this.”

Greg quirked an eyebrow. “Really? I always think the sleeves on this are too short. Isn’t it a little bit eighties?”

Nick smiled. “You were wearing that the first time you fucked me.” He reddened under Greg’s stare. “Well, you were wearing it just before that.”

(They’d talked about it so much beforehand that at the moment of truth Greg had hovered over Nick, holding himself up, and felt almost dizzy with fear that what he was about to do would be a painful reminder and not an act of love.

Underneath him, Nick’s dark eyes had been ablaze with a desire and trust that was so humbling it took the air out of the room. Greg had sunk into him and Nick’s breath had caught in his throat and he’d closed his eyes and Greg had hesitated, veins started to flood with horror. But then Nick’s gasp had turned into the dirtiest, sexiest groan that Greg had ever heard and he’d found his rhythm, had seen Nick come hard and then open his brown eyes wide, lashes tipped with wetness.

Afterwards, he’d rested one hand against Greg’s sweat-slicked chest as Greg kissed his hair. “Thanks, man, for making it good for me.”

And Greg thought he might cry.)

Greg pulled the green shirt over his head. “I just need to pour the coffee into our travel mugs, and then we’re good to go.”

---

When Nick arrived at the Bellagio, Catherine was already in the most impressive of its many suites. Justice McGregor Brown was sitting in a club chair in a small sitting room off the main reception area, his navy pinstripe suit immaculate despite the lateness of the hour.

Catherine swivelled to greet him. “Justice Brown, this is CSI Nicholas Stokes.” Nick nodded at the Justice. “He and I will be photographing the crime scene, lifting fingerprints and gathering any trace evidence.”

“Thank you, Ms Willows.” The Justice inclined his head graciously, as if thanking Catherine for bringing him a cup of tea and a scone. Most of his scalp was visible through his fluffy white hair.

Nick’s gaze rested on a series of glossy photos on a low table, clearly taken from the Bellagio’s security system. They showed the Justice and two companions together in the lift and then outside the suite’s door. The woman, who looked to be in her late twenties, was wearing a white Marilyn Monroe style dress that showed most of her tanned, slender back. Her dark, glossy hair was piled in curls on her head and the slice of her lips that was visible as she glanced over her shoulder was painted deep red. Your standard issue femme fatale, Nick thought. The man looked a few years older, dressed in a soberly expensive suit. Fun, but not too much fun.

“I suppose you think I’m an old goat,” said Justice Brown, following Nick’s eyes to the photos.

“Sir?” Nick looked up.

Justice Brown hooked his fingers inside the watch pocket of his vest. “Giving those young people the time of day.”

“Sir, can I ask why they were here?”

“Why, to steal my laptop, young man. Isn’t that obvious?” Justice Brown rested his chin on his chest. “No one has ever had to tender their resignation from the Nevada Supreme Court because of a scandal before. I can assure you that if the contents of that laptop are revealed then I shall be the first.”

Nick allowed a look of sympathy to flash across his face. “Sir, can I ask why you invited them to your suite?”

The Justice sighed. “She made me think of Daisy. 'That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool'.”

Nick thought for a moment. Blinked. “Daisy Buchanan?”

The Justice smiled, sharply. “I told you I was an old goat.”

Nick looked through the doorway into the main reception room of the suite. He could hear the ice melting in the bucket, clinking sharply against the metal. He could see the champagne bottle, floating bottom up. A third of a bottle of champagne isn’t enough to make an experienced socialite like Justice Brown pass out on his bed like a sleepy toddler, though.

He turned his attention back to the Justice. “Sir, were there any pills?”

The Justice weighed his words carefully. “What do you mean?”

Nick gestured through the open doorway. “Y’all were having a glass of champagne together. They were both beautiful and settling in for the night—“ He allowed his voice to trail off.

The Justice barked a laugh. “Very decorously put.” He put his hand in his trouser pocket and brought out a small glassine bag with blue pills in it. “I took one of these at the young man’s urging.”

Nick took the bag from the Justice with his gloved hand. “Thank you, Sir. We’ll find out what’s in these. It might help us find them. And your laptop.”

---

“That was nicely done,” said Catherine, after the suite had been cleared of everyone but the CSIs.

“What?” Nick looked at his coworker, who was taking her camera out of its case and preparing to take the first volley of scene photos.

“He would never have told me about the Viagra. Or whatever it actually is.”

The corner of Nick’s mouth quirked up. “Some men just feel bad talking about that stuff with women.”

Catherine shrugged. “I think it’s more than that. I think he appreciated the way you brought it up so he could tell you without ‘fessing up to wanting a threeway with Bonnie and Clyde. You’re a class act, Nicky Stokes.”

Nick shrugged off the compliment, smiling.

Catherine delicately rubbed her nose. “Nicky, after we’ve finished up here can I talk to you about something?” She sounded hesitant. “Something kinda personal?”

Nick looked across at her. “Sure thing, Catherine.”

---

They were almost back at the crime lab when Catherine spoke.

“So, Lindsey and I were talking last night at dinner and she was asking why she hadn’t seen you in such a long time.” Catherine’s hands were twisting in her lap.

“I’m sorry—“

She shook her head at Nick. “No, that’s not the point of the story, Nicky. I mean, it would of course be nice to see you but—“ She bit her lip. “I explained that you and Greg had started seeing each other and that people in new relationships spend a lot of time together and she started to cry and ran off to her room.”

Catherine drew one finely-boned hand across her forehead. “I’ve never seen her like that before. Even after Eddie—“ She sighed. “She kept saying ‘Please don’t hate me, Mom. Please don’t hate me.’ Really great for my self-esteem as a mother.”

Nick shifted in his seat. “Catherine, you’re a great mom.”

She smiled wanly. “Still not the point of the story, but thanks, Nicky.” She hesitated. “She eventually told me that she thinks she’s a lesbian.”

Nick’s eyebrows went up.

“I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know what to say to her.” Catherine sounded more desperate than Nick had ever heard her; trademark flippancy entirely absent from her voice.

“What did you say to her?”

“I said that I loved her and that I just wanted her to be with people who made her happy, whomever they were.”

Nick felt a brief pang of envy, and then chastised himself for being jealous of a confused fourteen year old girl.

“I feel guilty, though, because I felt like I was lying to her. I mean,” Catherine clarified, “I feel like her life will be a lot harder if she’s gay and I want her life to be as easy as possible. I just don’t know how to help her figure this out.”

“Catherine, I think you said exactly the right thing.” Nick indicated and pulled in to the crime lab parking area. “And you’re right, it is harder in some ways being gay. But it’s hardest of all living a lie.”

“Will you talk to her?”

Nick blinked. “Will I talk to your daughter about her sexual orientation?”

“She knows you.”

Nick shook his head. “Not like that, she doesn’t. If you want to suggest that she talks to me then I’m happy to go for it if she wants to, but I think she’d be better off talking to someone from the GLBT center teen group.

“The GLBT center teen group?” Catherine echoed.

“Sure.” Nick said. “Do you want me to get some information for you? They’ll have a website, but I can talk to Greg’s friend James. He works there.”

“Ok.” Catherine sounded unsure. She licked her lips. “Nicky, can I ask you something about yourself?”

“Sure.” He looked at her, but her eyes were anchored on her denimed legs.

“Did you know you were gay when you were fourteen?”

He grinned. “Yep. That was the year I pined for Sammy Lowenstein. The older brother of my friend David. God damn that boy was something else.”

Catherine wasn’t smiling. “Nicky, can I ask you something you might not want to answer?”

His stomach flipped. “Okay.”

She looked out of the window for a full minute until Nick's skin was crawling with anticipation of something unpleasant. “Nicky, the babysitter who hurt you. Do you think—“

“That she put me off women for life?” Nick’s voice was cool.

Catherine shuddered. “I know that sounds awful. I just suddenly got so scared that Eddie—“

He took her hand. “If this is the only reason that you think Eddie hurt Lindsey then you’re looking for answers in the wrong place. People are born gay, Catherine, they don’t get turned gay by some bad experience.”

She dropped her head. “Yeah, I kind of know that really. I just don’t want to find out that I fell down on the job any more than I already know about.”

He squeezed her hand. “You’re a great Mom. Lindsey’s lucky to have you.”

She looked up then, at his wistful tone, but Nick had already let go of her hand and was opening the door of the Denali.

---

“Do we know what those blue pills are, yet?”

Hodges looked up. “Hello to you too, Nick.”

Nick held his hands up in a half-apology. “Do we know what those blue pills are, yet?”

Hodges pursed his lips. “20 mg of zolpidem.”

Nick frowned. “Zolpidem? That’s a sleeping pill, right?”

Hodges grinned. “Bingo. It’s an imidazopyridine. Very similar to a benzo, but much more successful at inducing sleep than a benzo. The Air Force gives them to its pilots after missions so they can get some rest. 10 mg is the recommended daily dose, so its no wonder that 20 mg had the vic flat on his back.”

“Was there anything else in the pills?”

“The zolpidem comes from two Ambien pills, which are prescribed in such large quantities they might be difficult to trace. However, Viagra pills are pretty large, so the zolpidem was bulked out with waxy maize starch.”

“Waxy maize starch?”

Hodges raised an eyebrow. “It’s the hot new fast-acting carbohydrate for your gym bunny types.”

“Any way we can trace it?”

“It’s sold in pretty much every gym and health food store in the country. There are two manufacturers, and both sell nationwide. Both are sending me samples so I can determine if there’s a chromatography match or probable match with our sample. It won’t narrow things down much, though.”

“What about the coating on the pills? It looked pretty impressively real.”

Hodges cut him a look. "Know that for a fact do you, Nick? Little Nick not always up to the job?"

Nick reddened. "Jesus, Hodges." He rolled his eyes. "Could you maybe just tell me what they used?"

“Commercial paint, would you believe? A brand that is sold in all of the trade places selling to contractors. Professional job, though. They’d even scratched ‘Pfizer’ on the pills to make them look branded.”

Nick considered this. “So Bonnie and Clyde might have bought these from some pros?”

Hodges shrugged. “You’re the CSI.”

---

Nick was staring down the microscope at some fibers he had lifted from the suite at the Bellagio when he became aware of someone leaning against the doorframe of the trace lab. He looked up. Catherine. Leaning on one elbow in the doorway like a model showing off some couture pants.

“We just need to store the unprocessed evidence on this one, Nicky. Game over.”

Nick’s gaze sharpened. “Bonnie and Clyde are in custody?”

She smiled. “Archie got a clean shot of their plates from the Bellagio’s security cameras. They hadn’t switched cars and they were discovered by some local boys in Ely.”

Nick frowned. “They went up I93? Where were they going?”

Catherine shrugged. “All Brass told me was that they recovered the laptop and that Justice Brown has been alerted. It seems that His Honor is extremely grateful. Wonder what was on that laptop.”

She walked off, smirking, as Nick started to secure the fibers in an evidence bag.

---

James Wilkes was speaking to the receptionist when Nick and Greg arrived at the GLBT center. He straightened up when he saw them, and cast an appraising look at their joined hands.

(“Hell”, Greg had said, as they walked up to the front door. “If I can’t hold hands with you here, then where can I?”

“As long as I don’t have to blow you on the sundeck to prove my happy homo credentials.” Nick’s voice was dry.

He’d laughed at the considering look that slid across Greg’s face.)

“Greg,” James said, before he kissed him on the cheek. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

He smiled at Nick. “Nick, right?” Nick offered him his cheek, and James, smoothly hiding his look of surprise, kissed that too.

“We’re here doing a little recon for a colleague,” Greg explained. “She told her daughter that the reason we hadn’t visited her in a while was because we were in the honeymoon phase and her daughter came out to her. Our colleague is looking for information on how to support Lindsey. She’s fourteen, if that makes a difference.”

Nick’s phone rang, and he slid it out of his pocket. “It’s Annie.” He bit his lip. “Is there anywhere I can take this in private?”

James nodded and pointed. “That room over there is one of our counselling rooms. It should be free at this time of day.”

“Thanks.” Nick flipped open his phone. “Annie? Two seconds. I’m just going somewhere where I can talk to you in private.”

“Nick’s sister.” Greg answered James’s unasked question as soon as Nick was out of earshot. “She just had a baby yesterday and she wants Nick to be his godfather.”

James chewed the inside of his cheek. “And Nick doesn’t want to be responsible for providing spiritual guidance for his nephew?”

Greg sighed. “Things are really complicated with his family. He came out to them and some of them took it really, incredibly badly.”

“Well, there’s a club with a huge membership.” He paused. “And you guys are out at work, too?”

Greg smiled. “Yeah. Some stones on my boy.”

James smiled. “Sounds like. I’m happy for you two. I mean, obviously the guy is smoking hot but he seems to have character too, which is a pleasant departure.”

Greg was mock-offended. “Hey, Brian had character.”

“Nuh-uh. Brian had personality and abs you could grate cheese on.”

Greg smiled, sexily. “And sometimes that’s enough.”

They both looked up when Nick came back.

“That was quick. Everything ok?” Greg ran a hand down Nick’s back.

“She’s not happy with the answer ‘no’.” Nick half-smiled. “Typical, pig-headed Stokes. I told her we could discuss my reasons again later.”

“Greg was saying she’d asked you to stand as godfather to your nephew.” James looked at Nick levelly.

Nick wrapped his fingers around Greg’s. “Yeah. I just came out to my family recently and my oldest brother freaked out and pretty much accused me of molesting his son.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes. That old confusion between ‘gay’ and ‘pedophile’.”

“Right,” Nick smiled. “This is Annie’s way of telling him to shove it, but I can’t stand in a church where people fundamentally disapprove of what I am and promise to help her raise her son by those values.”

“Is she really religious?” James asked.

“No,” said Greg. “She’s totally supportive of us.”

Nick sighed. “It’s not that straightforward. I love Annie but she doesn’t see that she can sit in church with my Momma and listen to the awful, bigoted sermons about how women should know their place, and how we should keep our jeans zipped until someone has cast the demons out of us, and disregard it all. Because, superficially, she fits in with her husband and baby. And Greg and I just don’t.“ He waved his hand, helplessly. “She doesn’t see the disapproval that will come crashing down on her head and Momma’s head if they find out that her son’s godfather is gay.”

"So fuck ‘em. Fuck those disapproving people who don’t know us from Adam.” Greg’s face was like stone.

“My Daddy sets great store by his women’s position in that church.” Nick’s voice was quiet.

Greg’s face flickered.

“They fuck you up your Mum and Dad.” James broke the tense silence and his voice held enough of an edge to make Nick look closely at him.

“Philip Larkin” asked Greg. “Right?”

James arranged his face into a smile. “Yes. Anyway, you guys came in here to talk about a friend’s teenager. Do you want to come back to my office and I can let you know what services we offer here?”

(Chapter ten: In the river I will stay)