This is actually chapter 2 of the story. The other 5 chapters can be found in their entirety here. I thought I shouldn't publish them all here because the rest of them have a few curse words scattered throughout. 
They stand on their own, but if you'd like to read the entire set, please visit the link.
There's a better intro/explanation at the beginning on the other site, but in short it's a post "Grave Danger" fic about how those events affected other characters and how they looked at Nick afterward.
So here then is chapter 2. Please visit the rest of it via the link if you're so inclined. And feedback is always welcome and appreciated.
I don't see a veil
between heaven and hell
The truth is there's nothing
but warm light and singing.
“Go ahead.”
Nick and David Phillips were in the autopsy room. A 37 year old female lay on the table, a gunshot wound to her chest. But Nick’s attention was focused on the Assistant Coroner. Ever since Nick had entered the room, he had caught David staring at him whenever he thought he wasn’t looking.
“Go ahead and what?” asked David nervously
“Go ahead and ask me.”
David looked down and cleared his throat. “Ask you what?”
“Ask me whatever it is that you want to ask but are afraid to because you think I might freak out or something.”
“Oh…well, I just…uh…” David stuttered, embarrassed at having been called out on the thoughts he had tried so hard to hide.
Nick sighed. “It’s okay, David. Everybody wants to know what it was like. So let’s get it out of the way so you can stop wondering and start looking at me normally again and not like I just slithered out of a body bag.”
David felt his stomach drop. It wasn’t that Nick had accused him of wondering, because he was right about that. And it wasn’t that Nick thought he was uncomfortable around him now. That was true as well. But Nick had called him ‘David’. Not Super Dave. David. And it stung.
The young coroner’s assistant had always felt a little uncomfortable around the CSIs. True, he was well-educated and very qualified for his job, but he still felt overshadowed and insignificant next to them. They carried themselves with an air of importance at a crime scene, commanded respect as they investigated everything from the largest airplane to the smallest fiber, and helped survivors find closure. And David? David showed up to cart away the bodies when they were done.
But through the years, Nick had taken to calling him Super Dave. He knew it was just a nickname…just Nick’s way of kidding him. But it meant a lot to David. And it made him feel included and like a part of the team. And sometimes…just sometimes, it made him feel like he really was doing something important…something to help.
But now he was just “David” again. And he wondered if it was because he wasn’t Super Dave anymore or because Nick wasn’t Nick anymore.
David turned his attention back to the dead woman, combing her hair and then scraping her nails for evidence. It was easier for him to speak while he was busy with something he was comfortable doing. And it was easier not to look at Nick while he spoke. “It’s just…” He sighed as he put the scrapings in an evidence envelope. “It’s just that I see them every day. The bodies, I mean. And I help send them off to the funeral home, and then I never know what happens to them. Maybe they’re cremated or put in a mausoleum, but most of them are…” He stopped, unable to continue and unwilling to look up as Nick finished the sentence for him.
“Buried?”
“Yeah,” whispered David. “I think about them all the time. I wonder about them. I dream about them. I think…what’s it like? Once you’re dead and…buried. Do you know you’re dead? Are you really in the grave, or are you somewhere else?”
“I don’t know, man,” said Nick. “I mean, I didn’t die, you know? I don’t think it’s the same thing.”
“But you were there. Like them. Underground. In a box. You can speak for them.”
Nick laughed, and David shot him a quick, wounded look. “I’m sorry, David, but I don’t speak for the dead. I’m not some kind of psychic or whatever.”
David handed the evidence envelopes over to Nick. “Never mind,” he said, turning away and gathering his utensils up. “Do you want anything else or can I start washing her now?”
“C’mon, David. I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. But I really don’t know what you want to hear.”
David stopped gathering up his things and looked at Nick over the body on the table. “I want to hear what it was like. I want to hear that it was peaceful and you weren’t afraid.”
Nick laughed again, this time humorlessly. He bowed his head, running a hand over the stiff muscles in the back of his neck. “Well then, you’re going to be disappointed, because that’s not what it was like at all.”
“See?!” David exclaimed with a smile. “You DO know what it’s like!” Then a horrified look crossed his face. “Oh gee…gee, I’m sorry. That was stupid. You know what? Never mind. Really. I don’t know what I was thinking. Forget it. I’m sorry,” he stammered. He turned and walked away, pretending to be busy with something at the sink and hoping against hope that Nick would just leave now.
After a moment, all was quiet behind him, but there was no way to tell if Nick had left through the silent, swinging doors. Still, David waited, his head bowed.
“I could see the dirt.”
David raised his head at the sound of the whispered words.
“Then later…I could smell it.”
David turned around and saw that Nick was still standing exactly where he had left him, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, looking down at the dead woman on the table as though he were speaking to her.
“I could smell it…you know…,” Nick said softly as he continued to stare at the woman’s face, “…after I shot out the light. Before that, it wasn’t so bad. But the smell…it made me sick. The dead don’t have to worry about that though.”
David’s eyes darted between Nick and the body he was addressing. His heart was beating rapidly, but his breath was slow and steady. He stood still, afraid to make a move or a sound that might disturb the scene in front of him.
Nick took his hands out of his pockets, putting one to his mouth to chew on a nail. With the other, he reached out and touched the woman’s face, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I think…if you can’t see the dirt…or smell it…it’s going to be okay.”
David wrinkled his brow and looked around the room, nervously wondering if he should leave and go get somebody.
Nick put his hands back into his pockets. He cocked his head to the side and frowned at the woman. “It wasn’t quiet, though. No, it’s not peaceful. There were all kinds of little sounds in the dark. Hums and squeaks and ticks and…voices sometimes. But…I think that…some of them…maybe they were in my head. I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“Um…” David cleared his throat. “Nick?”
“There wasn’t much room.”
“Nick?”
“But that won’t matter either. It’s nothing to worry about.” Nick reached out again, this time stroking the woman’s arm. “I think you’ll go somewhere. You won’t be in a box. But me…I wasn’t supposed to be there. I wasn’t dead or alive. That’s not how it’s meant to be. I was just…”
Nick pulled his arm back, putting his hands into his pockets again, and sighed as he finished the sentence. “Caught.” He looked up at David. “Caught in between, Super Dave.” He turned his back to the flustered Assistant Coroner and walked through the swinging doors, his voice drifting back into the room. “Just caught in between.”
They stand on their own, but if you'd like to read the entire set, please visit the link. There's a better intro/explanation at the beginning on the other site, but in short it's a post "Grave Danger" fic about how those events affected other characters and how they looked at Nick afterward.
So here then is chapter 2. Please visit the rest of it via the link if you're so inclined. And feedback is always welcome and appreciated.
Lazarus
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Super Dave
between heaven and hell
The truth is there's nothing
but warm light and singing.
“Go ahead.”
Nick and David Phillips were in the autopsy room. A 37 year old female lay on the table, a gunshot wound to her chest. But Nick’s attention was focused on the Assistant Coroner. Ever since Nick had entered the room, he had caught David staring at him whenever he thought he wasn’t looking.
“Go ahead and what?” asked David nervously
“Go ahead and ask me.”
David looked down and cleared his throat. “Ask you what?”
“Ask me whatever it is that you want to ask but are afraid to because you think I might freak out or something.”
“Oh…well, I just…uh…” David stuttered, embarrassed at having been called out on the thoughts he had tried so hard to hide.
Nick sighed. “It’s okay, David. Everybody wants to know what it was like. So let’s get it out of the way so you can stop wondering and start looking at me normally again and not like I just slithered out of a body bag.”
David felt his stomach drop. It wasn’t that Nick had accused him of wondering, because he was right about that. And it wasn’t that Nick thought he was uncomfortable around him now. That was true as well. But Nick had called him ‘David’. Not Super Dave. David. And it stung.
The young coroner’s assistant had always felt a little uncomfortable around the CSIs. True, he was well-educated and very qualified for his job, but he still felt overshadowed and insignificant next to them. They carried themselves with an air of importance at a crime scene, commanded respect as they investigated everything from the largest airplane to the smallest fiber, and helped survivors find closure. And David? David showed up to cart away the bodies when they were done.
But through the years, Nick had taken to calling him Super Dave. He knew it was just a nickname…just Nick’s way of kidding him. But it meant a lot to David. And it made him feel included and like a part of the team. And sometimes…just sometimes, it made him feel like he really was doing something important…something to help.
But now he was just “David” again. And he wondered if it was because he wasn’t Super Dave anymore or because Nick wasn’t Nick anymore.
David turned his attention back to the dead woman, combing her hair and then scraping her nails for evidence. It was easier for him to speak while he was busy with something he was comfortable doing. And it was easier not to look at Nick while he spoke. “It’s just…” He sighed as he put the scrapings in an evidence envelope. “It’s just that I see them every day. The bodies, I mean. And I help send them off to the funeral home, and then I never know what happens to them. Maybe they’re cremated or put in a mausoleum, but most of them are…” He stopped, unable to continue and unwilling to look up as Nick finished the sentence for him.
“Buried?”
“Yeah,” whispered David. “I think about them all the time. I wonder about them. I dream about them. I think…what’s it like? Once you’re dead and…buried. Do you know you’re dead? Are you really in the grave, or are you somewhere else?”
“I don’t know, man,” said Nick. “I mean, I didn’t die, you know? I don’t think it’s the same thing.”
“But you were there. Like them. Underground. In a box. You can speak for them.”
Nick laughed, and David shot him a quick, wounded look. “I’m sorry, David, but I don’t speak for the dead. I’m not some kind of psychic or whatever.”
David handed the evidence envelopes over to Nick. “Never mind,” he said, turning away and gathering his utensils up. “Do you want anything else or can I start washing her now?”
“C’mon, David. I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. But I really don’t know what you want to hear.”
David stopped gathering up his things and looked at Nick over the body on the table. “I want to hear what it was like. I want to hear that it was peaceful and you weren’t afraid.”
Nick laughed again, this time humorlessly. He bowed his head, running a hand over the stiff muscles in the back of his neck. “Well then, you’re going to be disappointed, because that’s not what it was like at all.”
“See?!” David exclaimed with a smile. “You DO know what it’s like!” Then a horrified look crossed his face. “Oh gee…gee, I’m sorry. That was stupid. You know what? Never mind. Really. I don’t know what I was thinking. Forget it. I’m sorry,” he stammered. He turned and walked away, pretending to be busy with something at the sink and hoping against hope that Nick would just leave now.
After a moment, all was quiet behind him, but there was no way to tell if Nick had left through the silent, swinging doors. Still, David waited, his head bowed.
“I could see the dirt.”
David raised his head at the sound of the whispered words.
“Then later…I could smell it.”
David turned around and saw that Nick was still standing exactly where he had left him, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, looking down at the dead woman on the table as though he were speaking to her.
“I could smell it…you know…,” Nick said softly as he continued to stare at the woman’s face, “…after I shot out the light. Before that, it wasn’t so bad. But the smell…it made me sick. The dead don’t have to worry about that though.”
David’s eyes darted between Nick and the body he was addressing. His heart was beating rapidly, but his breath was slow and steady. He stood still, afraid to make a move or a sound that might disturb the scene in front of him.
Nick took his hands out of his pockets, putting one to his mouth to chew on a nail. With the other, he reached out and touched the woman’s face, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I think…if you can’t see the dirt…or smell it…it’s going to be okay.”
David wrinkled his brow and looked around the room, nervously wondering if he should leave and go get somebody.
Nick put his hands back into his pockets. He cocked his head to the side and frowned at the woman. “It wasn’t quiet, though. No, it’s not peaceful. There were all kinds of little sounds in the dark. Hums and squeaks and ticks and…voices sometimes. But…I think that…some of them…maybe they were in my head. I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“Um…” David cleared his throat. “Nick?”
“There wasn’t much room.”
“Nick?”
“But that won’t matter either. It’s nothing to worry about.” Nick reached out again, this time stroking the woman’s arm. “I think you’ll go somewhere. You won’t be in a box. But me…I wasn’t supposed to be there. I wasn’t dead or alive. That’s not how it’s meant to be. I was just…”
Nick pulled his arm back, putting his hands into his pockets again, and sighed as he finished the sentence. “Caught.” He looked up at David. “Caught in between, Super Dave.” He turned his back to the flustered Assistant Coroner and walked through the swinging doors, his voice drifting back into the room. “Just caught in between.”
