TITLE: Strength, Duty and Love

AUTHOR: Demon Faith

SPOILERS: Play with Fire

PAIRING: Nick/Greg and Grissom/Catherine implied

SUMMARY: Sometimes you have no strength left for yourself.

NOTES: J9 fed the Nick/Greg bunnies, and they gnawed on PwF.

Grissom moved away from his office, biting his lip. Sara had...asked. He shook his head, and kept walking, but slowed as he came to Greg’s lab. The fractured glass, the scorched walls, the warped metal – and Nick crouching by the epicentre, staring blankly ahead.

“Nick?”

He did not move, and only his short, hitching breaths indicated any sign of life.

“Nick? Are you okay?”

He turned then, eyes wild and scared, but he quickly looked away, standing and stepping out into the corridor.

“I was just going to...I stopped...I’ll see you tomorrow...”

He started to move away, but Grissom caught up with him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Nick, have you been to see Greg?”

He froze then, every muscle stiffening, and he swallowed before looking down at the floor.

“No, not yet,” came the small shaking voice, and Grissom had to look away. He couldn’t handle this; everyone was breaking down, forgetting the job. You couldn’t forget the job.

“I had to keep the case going.”

This soft admission brought Grissom back, and he looked at Nick, who was staring straight into his eyes.

“Warrick and Catherine – they were doing something, they were...helping. Sara was, was not really there, and then she takes on that guy...”

He remembered Brass’ description: ‘She was a ghost, Gil; acting like it was all a dream, or a fairytale.’ And he had seen her, on the pavement, looking so lost. She had reminded him of Lindsey in that moment, and he’d reached for her, seeing Catherine’s daughter in her confused, unfocused eyes.

But he couldn’t afford to be confused, he had to focus on the job, on the murder. He couldn’t afford to remember his team’s shock, their pain; he had to follow the case, remember responsibility.

“When Cath told me, I...thought he was dead,” Grissom tuned back in, but Nick was staring into thin air, “I had to go see him, but there was work and evidence and...I just thought ‘someone has to do it.’”

The words settled over them like fine dust, and the haunting silence of the gutted lab washed over them. Slowly, Nick moved away but he turned once more to Grissom.

“I don’t think I can be strong for him.”

Grissom paused for a moment, then whispered, “So just be there for him.”

A fleeting smile crossed Nick’s lips, and he walked away, footfalls echoing as he went. Grissom stared after him for a moment, then turned to the lab. Soon, there would be no evidence of flame or wreckage, no physical findings to mark out that place. But he knew, even as one with such faith in the physical, that it would never truly be the same again.

For now, there was the job – but he had the night off, and there was no need for focus, for composure. Silently, he walked away from the shell, thinking.

~

He had passed Catherine in the hallway, but she had hurried away, radiating her guilt. He didn’t blame her – it was an accident, a compilation of trivial things. Yet nothing about this was trivial, was it?

He swallowed hard before pushing open the door, and dark, shadowed eyes flickered over to him. A weak smile spread over dry lips, and he was encouraged to take one step forward.

“Tough case?” Greg said softly, humour leaching through, and Nick couldn’t take it anymore. He stutter-stepped to the bed, then fell to his knees, head resting on the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he said, moisture clouding his words, “I’m so sorry.”

A hand settled gently on the back of his head, and he looked up, to see Greg giving him a cautious half-smile.

“It wasn’t your fault. Cath thinks it’s hers, but...it doesn’t matter. I should’ve checked it.”

He looked away, but Nick touched gently at his chin, guiding him to look, to really see him. Because Nick had failed; he had left him alone for a case worth nothing, and somehow Greg now thought it was his fault. He hadn’t saved him from the explosion, he couldn’t save him from the pain, and the one thing that was possible - to stay with him, to reassure - he had failed to do.

“It’s not your fault. You...you’re in pain, and I was...chasing a guy who’ll get away with it anyway. I should’ve been here!”

He broke away from Greg, standing and moving to face the wall, breathing hard, fighting for control. Damnit, he was meant to be strong here; he couldn’t even do that. What kind of selfish bastard did that make him?

“You’re here now.”

The soft whisper drew him around, and Greg’s eyes sparkled through pain, showing love he didn’t deserve but had always received. He walked back to him, reaching out to cup the back of his head, drawing their foreheads together, just breathing.

“You’re hurt, and I should’ve been here.”

“You’re here. I...needed time to think.”

And Nick carefully lay beside him, hands resting between bandages as he held him; and Nick listened as he whispered his fears and his worries and his dreams until they both slept under the streaming rays of dawn.

~

Grissom moved out of his jeep, and walked towards the front door. He squinted against the pale dawn light, and rung the doorbell. A young voice sounded behind the door, and it flew open, Lindsey jumping into his arms.

“Gil!”

He swung her lazily before setting her on the doorstep, and looking over her shoulder to Catherine’s hovering silhouette. “Can I come in?”

She nodded, and he stepped forward, shepherding Lindsey. He walked up to her slowly, and meeting her eyes, drew her into his arms.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I feel responsible.”

“You always do.”

And a young girl watched comfort from a distance, and remembered love.

"We deceive ourselves when we fancy that only weakness needs support. Strength needs it far more.” – Madame Swetchine