The Quiet After

by elfin

(for Macx)

 Massive Spoilers for 'Grave Danger'

 

I couldn't stay there.  Greg and Sara sitting silently nursing Styrofoam cups of fake coffee. Catherine and Jim leaning forlornly against the wall, arms crossed, heads bowed.  Warrick wearing out a ten-yard stretch of carpet.

When Ecklie showed up, asked me if I wanted a ride, I said yes.  I caught the expressions of my colleagues - surprise, sadness, even disgust.

I couldn't stay.

The lab was quiet, some members of Day Shift in early, trying to assimilate the news about their colleague, the idea that something so horrible could happen to any of them. 

Evidence from Nick's case was still lying all around the place. 

The prototype on the bench in Trace, the flat screens in the computer room showing nothing but grey interference since Cath had pulled up the transmitting cell phone, the area map on the desk in the conference room, the screen shot of Nicky and the fire ant on my desk.... 

I sat down in the breakout room and stared at nothing until the door opened and Ecklie walked in, handed me a mug of what was easily Greg's most expensive blend, and took the seat across from me. 

I breathed in the steaming black liquid.

"I thought he kept this under lock and key?" 

"I know where he keeps the key."  

I smiled - I couldn't help it. 

This was a side of Ecklie I'd seen very rarely and although it would take something as momentous as, say, a shift in the Earth's tectonic plates to get me to actually like the guy, it was nice to feel something other than infuriation. 

"I tried, Gil," he told me, staring into his own coffee. 

I had no idea what he was talking about. 

"Tried what?" 

"To raise the million – to raise the ransom. 

I told Atwater... we could make some cuts - I could make it back within a year."  

There was that momentous shift I mentioned. 

It was a second before I found my voice. 

"What did he say?" 

"He told me to prepare you guys for a funeral." 

I literally felt the blood drain from my face and briefly imagined what I'd have done if our dear sheriff had said that to my face. 

Punched him.  Written off my career and not cared.  How dare he write off Nicky just like that?  I wondered about the next time I’d see him and tried not to think about it. 

"I know how much Nick... means to you." 

I was too tired to side-step the inference.  Instead I just sipped the coffee and didn’t respond.  "It's part of the reason I split your team up and I'm sorry, Gil.  I really am.  I....  Tonight... what you did....  I had no right to judge." 

I had no idea what to do with the confession or the atonement. 

A part of me was wondering if it was already too late to fix things.  After tonight, would Nicky want to come back?  Would any of them?  Did I? 

"What happened didn't depend on shift, Conrad.  It was random.  It could have been any of us." 

I honestly don't know what I'd have done in Nick's position. 

Driven myself to the brink of insanity then pulled the trigger?  Would I have trusted them to find me in time? the way he trusted us, right down to the wire when his air had run out and he was so close to anaphylactic shock.  I hate to admit it, but probably not.  Too self-sufficient.  Too autonomous. 

"You wouldn't have let Nick answer that call alone." 

I’d forgotten Ecklie was there. 

Wouldn't I?  

No.  Admit it, Gilbert, the reason you used to partner him up with Warrick or Sara or Catherine was that you didn't want him out there alone.  Because if what happened to Holly Gribbs ever happened to Nick.... 

"It's my fault." 

Had I spoken aloud? 

I looked up.  "It's not your fault." 

"I was jealous." 

"What?  Why?" 

"They admire you.   They practically worship you.  Do you know how often I hear them quoting you?" 

‘They tape everything I say,” I felt like telling him. 

I didn't know what he wanted from me.  Absolution, maybe. 

"I've earned their respect." 

I wasn't judging, just stating a fact. 

"I know." 

Who are you? 

And what have you done with Conrad Ecklie? 

But my cell phone rang before I could ask. 

Catherine.  Instructing me to ‘get my ass back over there.’  Nick was asking for me. 

I took my Tahoe, figuring I would be a while. 

Before I left, Ecklie told me, "I'll transfer Nick and Warrick back to nights, if it's what they want." 

I nodded.  But I didn't thank him.  Maybe I was blaming him too, just a little. 

~ 

Nicky looked... defeated. 

Terrible.  Curled up on his side on the narrow cot - the bed's metal sides pulled up, the fingers of his right hand grasped around the long bar. 

I sat down and leaned forward. 

But he didn't open his eyes.  I wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not. 

After a couple of minutes of hesitation, I touched his fingers - they were warm, clammy. 

Once I'd touched, I couldn't let go. 

I settled my hand over his, not wanting to disturb him but wanting - needing now - to do more than just sit there and stare at his poor face. 

The purple welts of the bites had swollen and darkened in the hours since his rescue. 

There were bruises too, on his hands and on other parts of him too I suspected.

I sat there, my hand loosely over his, watching him sleep, and I knew that what lay ahead of him would be as painful and as difficult as what lay behind.

I thought about Ecklie, what he’d said about what he knew.  He didn’t know, not really.  What I felt for Nick was a feeling I’d cultivated over the years, a feeling I’d never known for any other human being before.  I knew the effect it could have on me.  That kind of power over me was difficult to give someone.  

But as I watched Nick’s brown eyes open, watched his cracked lips turn up into a guardedly triumphant little smile, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could offer it to him.
 

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