1. “You okay, Nick?”
---
Warrick didn’t know what hit him.
One minute he was standing in the evidence room, calmly cataloging the new evidence when a hand was suddenly on his arm, gripping tightly at his sleeve.
Turning halfways, Warrick’s eyebrow quirked when he realized the hand belonged to an ashen faced, red-eyed Nick Stokes. “Hey, man.” he said, half smiling. “What’s up? You look like shit.”
Nick’s jaw shook slightly, and Warrick’s eyes widened at the expression. The younger CSI was fighting back tears. “Nick?”
Nick didn’t answer. Instead, he all but threw himself forward into Warrick’s torso, burying his face in Warrick’s collarbone, shoulders shaking jerkily as he clutched tightly at the other man’s back.
Slowly, confused, Warrick raised his hands to slowly, carefully, encircle the other man. Very carefully, he began to lightly run one of his large hands up and down Nick’s back, letting his head fall forward until his chin rested lightly on Nick’s head. For a very long few minutes, they stood in silence, until Warrick asked softly, “You wanna tell me what happened?”
Nick stiffened for a moment, then all but collapsed against Warrick. Sniffling self-consciously, and facing away so Warrick couldn’t see his tears, Nick said softly: “The scene Gil and I were at... the wife... she did it. And when we... we arrested her husband, and she... she had a gun in my face. I- I thought I was going to die, Warrick. I thought I was going to die.”
Warrick tightened his grip, taking a deep breath. Closing his eyes, Warrick smiled a little, bittersweet smile, then softly kissed the top of Nick’s head.
“Don’t worry, Nicky,” he said softly. “You’re alive. We’ll show them you’re still alive.”
~+~
2. “Tell Warrick I said ‘hey’.”
---
“Oh, and Warrick?”
Warrick half-turned, pausing in the doorway of the hotel room he was staying in overnight on their whirlwind investigative tour of South Miami, looking back at Catherine.
Smirking, Catherine said, “Nick says ‘hey’.”
Warrick let out a short, sharp laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Thanks, Cath.”
“Have a good night,” she smiled, then stepped into her own room.
Chuckling, Warrick made his way to his own bed, flopping down and staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep - he’d spent years getting used to working nights and sleeping days. He couldn’t sleep now, not hyped up like he was at that moment. Investigation did that to him. Lips quirking, he thought about what Catherine had said - ‘Nick says hey’ - and the mischievous, lopsided smile Nick would have had on his baby face as he said that.
Nick. Sexy, mischievous, trouble-making Nick. Nick bent over his desk, glancing over his shoulder to grin cheekily at Warrick. Nick, sprawled on his back in the morning, grinning lazily up at him as he fell asleep. Nick lying on his stomach, sweaty and hot, hands fisted in the sheets, eyes clenched shut, mouth open in a soundless scream.
Warrick let out a shuddering gasp, back arching off the bed, sticky hand falling to his side.
Nick says ‘hey’.
And that’s all it really takes.
~+~
3. “I want my boys back.”
---
Nick. With his boyish smile, his soft, smiling eyes, with that bounce to his steps that made Gil smile inwardly every time he saw it. And Gil had had a very hard time not just screaming out in horror and rage all night, as they fought to save that boyishly charming boy. He was broken, again, and Gil wanted to be able to fix him, like he had the one and only time he had actually drawn his gun, that time too in defense of his Nicky.
Warrick. Ever the jokester, the prankster, and ever the highly intelligent wildcard. He’d seen the way those soft brown eyes had broken, pain screaming through them as he stared in abject horror at a broken image his colleague, his coworker. His friend. Possibly, Gil suspected, his lover. He wanted to just cling to him, pet that frizzy hair, soothe his pain.
Greg. Funny, mischievous, goofy, yet so incredibly smart, with his ability to always surprise, and always make you smile, despite his occasional ability to irritate beyond belief. Granted, Gil had never actually lost Greg, he was still there, he still saw him every shift, but the expression on his so-young face when he saw Nick on that screen... Gil wanted to smooth that crazy hair, make him smile again. Greg didn’t smile anymore - it was like the lab explosion all over again.
Curled up on his leather couch, Gil held his blanket tightly around his shoulders, staring blankly off into space.
He’d just gotten off the phone with Eckley, swallowing his own pride as he all but begged the lab supervisor for his boys back. They were like his sons, and today, one of his sons had almost disappeared. He’d almost lost one of his boys today, and he’d be damned if he let his boys go. Again.
He wanted his boys back.
~+~
4. “Poncho!”
---
“I think you and I are tied for hospital visits.”
Nick chuckled lowly, not even opening his eyes. “Still one up on you, Greggo.”
“Guess I’ll just stay here with you the whole time, and then we’ll be even,” Greg smiled, leaning forward to rest his folded arms on the edge of Nick’s bed, chin on his arms.
Nick reached forward, slowly, with an insect-bite riddled hand, to stoke the red-eyed man’s hair. “Love you, Greggo.”
Greg grinned, and snuggled into the touch. “Love you too, Nicky.”
~+~
5. “You think she’s lying.”
“Yeah, you would too, if you didn’t think she was so hot.”
---
“Is it a crime to appreciate the female body every once in awhile?” Delco grinned, spearing a piece of bacon with his fork.
Speedle snorted. “You do nothing but.”
“I’ll have you know I also appreciate the male body at times,” Delco smirked, leaning forward to steal a hash brown off Speed’s plate.
“Oh, yes,” Speed snorted, lightly tapping his own chest. “I forgot about your new and improved professed bi-ism.”
“New and improved?” Delco laughed, swallowed the last of his coffee, then stood. “I think you only call it improved because I’ve declared it this time by moving in with you.”
“Hell yeah.” Speed laughed, standing as well, and snapping a quick kiss before they both went to work.
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