The Fury of Love - CatNip RP

Nick's head was reeling, breath flushed with subdued excitement and the want, the need for embrace. The two of them had been through so much together the past few days, and they ended it together, on a good note. Her skin tickled his lips, sweet and soft as he traced her jawline with the back of his hand. He had never felt like this, such care for anything or anyone in the world. It would work out, they would work out.

"Nick?" His lips had made their way down to her flat, toned stomach. "Mmmmmm?" Not pausing, he continued his soft journey of kisses across her stomach. "Please." Her voice was soft, barely spoken as it escaped her lips. Shifting, he heard her voice again, but in a pleading gasp. "Please, wait." Worried, he lifted his head, staring into her blue-green eyes. They were slightly widened, filled with a child-like fright.

“I'm sorry, but can we stop? It’s just it’s been awhile—since I’ve, and…well, I…I really, I just don’t want to screw this up." The words struck him, images flashing through his head. Eddie, Chris, all the other men before him. None of them had treated her good, like a decent human being. It hit Nick, the fact that he was in her house for a matter of two hours and they were already in bed.

"Shit." His voice was low, exhaling the word on the tip of his tongue. "Damn it, Cat, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Oh God Cat, I-I.." He didn't know what to say. Leaving their embrace, he began to dress himself and helped Catherine when her arms trembled, attempting to slide her shirt on.

"Cath, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen. It's all right, I don't regret it, I just-" His fingertips brushed her blonde hair back behind her ear, hand coming back to rest on her cheek. Smiling softly, he left a soft kiss on her forehead. Standing, Nick made his way to the door and grabbed the sheets and pillow. "Thanks for the sheets, Cath."

Smile disappearing when his back turned from her, ready to kick himself in the head. There were three other people in the house! Her mother, her daughter, and their colleague! Damn it, how could he be so stupid! He needed to keep his emotions in check, under control, left in the darkness for everyone's saftey, including his own. But over the past couple days, he found doing so wasn't so easy. He found himself screaming in his head, questioning things as he set the sheets over the bed and positioned the pillow against the arm of the couch closest to the hallway. How did Grissom do it? How was he so secure? How did Warrick do it? With all the problems in his marriage conflicting with work and then with the job, it was enought to drive any man insane.

Kicking his shoes off and laying himself down, he saw a faint light coming from down the hallway behind a closed door. Standing up again, he quietly made his way down the hallway. Sara's was the source of the light, Lily's shut tight with a soft snoring noise travelling from underneath the wood, and Lindsey's door was open, a dark abyss pulling him in. "Linds? Lindsey?" His voice was quiet and he realized Lindsey wasn't in bed. Quiet whispers were coming from Sara's room, and Nick knocked with the back of his hand lightly. "Sara? Sara, everything okay?"
 
Sara sat down next to Lindsey, pulling the covers up around her legs.

"What do you mean?" Sara's voice cracked at the end of her sentence. A million thoughts rushed into her head. Did Lindsey have a crush on him, as Sara did? Were all three women compeating for his affection? Was this going to break them all apart?

"Well," Lindsey started, pulling a stand of hair around her finger, "I don't know really how to explain it. I mean, like, Nick's great and everything. And he like, seems to really like my mom, haven't you noticed? It's like, my mom seems so happy when he's around. And I've always liked him, as a guy, and as a friend." Lindsey paused and sighed.

"He's really great and everything, and him and my mom, since my dad died, have been like, really tight. He used to come down here a lot when I was little, and we'd like, hang out or whatever while mom was at work. I've always thought of him as a dad, more than a friend. Like, before I used to think he was fine, but now," Lindsey paued again. She was thinking if she should tell Sara what's on her mind.

"Go ahead," Sara said, coaxingly.

"I love him, Sara," Lindsey choked, "And if him and mom get together, it won't work! I know it won't! And then I'll never see him again!" Lindsey's cries were frantic but soft. A silent tear trickled down her cheek as she took a deep breath, "He's so much to me, and he's so great! He's like, more than a dad than my dad ever was!"

Lindsey wiped at her eyes with a balled up fist. She heaved a deep sigh, her whole body bouncing. Sara's eyes flicked over her maturing body, remembering when Lindsey was a little girl. Her birthday - The year Sara first came to the Lab. She had chipped in on a card, and signed it, "Sara."

Then, her and Lindsey had started to get to know eachother. Sara had never been good with kids, nor had she ever liked them much. But Lindsey was pirsistant, and had won Sara over. Now, she was 13, and crying on the foot of her bed.

'So this is it,' Sara thought. 'This is why she's so shy around him. He's fatherly towards her, and she's afraid to loose him.. Just like I am.'

"I'm sorry, Linds," Sara breathed, not knowing what else to say. Both girls became alert as there was a small tap on the bedroom door.

"Shh," Sara whispered, putting her finger to her lips. Lindsey nodded.

"Sara? Sara, everything okay," came Nick's voice from the hall, hoarse and whispered.

"Uhh, just one minute!" Sara shot up, and mouthed for Lindsey to lie down, and pretend to be asleep. Sara ran towards the door, and put her hand on it lightly.

'I just need to look at him,' she thought. She opened the door lightly, and stepped between the frame and the hard wood, smiling.

"Hi, Nick," Sara said. Nick tried to peek around her as Lindsey rolled over. "She's asleep."

**Edited because there is a differenec between 13 & 16. :)
 
He could've sworn he heard whimpering and a quick shuffle of sheets at Sara's remark. "Uhh, just one minute!" Standing against the door frame, he jumped back a little as Sara suddenly opened the door, standing opposite of him. "Hi, Nick." Somebody was in the bed, and as they rolled over, he realized it was Lindsey. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head to look around Sara's head. "She's asleep."

Sudden worry came to his mind, hidden behind a mask of care. What if she heard him and Catherine in the bedroom? What if Sara heard them in the bedroom? "Is she all right? Just a bad dream?" Sara's head nodded quickly. Noticing the way she quickly took a step back, he couldn't help but think not. "Okay, just making sure everybody's all right. Night Sara. You need me, let me know."

Jerking his head back towards the living room, and the couch, he smiled and walked back down the hallway, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Not five steps from the door he tripped over a pair of Lindsey's shoes left in the hall. Cussing softly under his breath, he made the rest of the way back to the couch quietly and uneventful. Tucking the pillow underneath his heavy head and throwing the sheet over his legs, he rolled over. And over. And over again. Giving up, he laid on his back and tucked his hands behind his head, staring out the sheered window, and the door. Locked. He made sure of it, three times.

The soft lights of the city travelled the miles through Catherine's front window, casting an eerie faint light on the living room and Nick's pensieve face. He had almost made love to her, and would have if she hadn't corrected herself. See he thought she meant please as in...you get the point. After staring out at the city which held him captive year after year for quite a while, Nick felt himself loose grip of the frightening reality of the world and slip into a light sleep.
 
***playing as Grissom***

Grissom stood there stiffly as Sophia hugged him. "Uhhh, your welcome Sophia," he managed before he cleared his throat. "I'm glad everything turned out fine, but at the risk of sounding like your parent--please be careful when you drink," he whispered as he looked at his watch.

He returned his attention to Sophia as he smiled softly. "I got to go. I need some rest before work tomorrow," and with that he turned and left.
 
Greg listened to the ringing tone of Sara's phone for a while until he gave up, but this time he left her a message. "Hey, Sara its Greg. Now it appears you're ignoring me, but as far as you know I havent done anything to annoy you, so I'm gonna guess that you just havent heard me. Anyway, I really need to talk to you about the case. So call me when you get this message. Enjoy your time off. Bye." He then closed his cell, and lay back on his couch thinking.

A few minutes later, he found himself fast asleep and dreaming. Not a happy dream; he was dreaming about the case. He found himself walking along a desert road, a bottle of water in one hand and 4 quarters in the other. He walked for what felt like hours, when he came across a figure in the distance. He walked over too it and saw a bright light radiating from it. The figure turned around and it was the face of another vic, one that he had never seen before. “Where am I?” asked Greg. “When you find out where we are then you’ll find out where he is?” said the figure again. “He?” he replies, walking closer, as he walked closer he noticed that the figure once again had a resemblance to Sara. “You know who.” Said the figure, turning around and walking into a bright sunset. Greg watched her until she disappeared. He sat down on the sand, and looked around. There was a sign post saying ‘Nowhere’ but apart from that he could not identify where he was. He then lay down in the sand and watched the sunset. He suddenly awoke and leapt up from the couch. He still remembered what he had dreamt, and it scared him a little. He never usually dreamt about work, and it scared him a little. “Oh my god, you’re even dreaming about work, now you’re really turning into Grissom” thought Greg.

He got up and made himself another cup of coffee, this time decaf. The dream bothered him. It didn’t seem like just a dream, it all seemed to make sense to him in a strange way. He then thought. Maybe it was a vision? He knew that his Nana Olaf was psychic, and the family believed he had inherited it too. But had he? Greg had never believed it before, “but what if I am, and this was some kind of premonition?” he thought, pouring his coffee. However, he decided not to dwell on it for now, and took Grissom’s advice and settled down in front of the television.
 
It all seemed surreal to her as she watched Nick pull her bedroom door shut as he left her room. She recalled their conversation as his words echoed through out her head. “Shit…Damn it Cat. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Oh God cat, I…I.” She remembered feeling shocked at stopping him in the first place, so naturally she was beside herself when she received this reaction from him. She shook her head in embarrassment as she recalled how she laid there in bed for quite some time before she realized he was getting dressed as she remained unclothed.

Her mind still playing the scenario out in her head as she remembered she quickly fumbled with her bottoms as she maneuvered them up over her hips with shaky arms. She could feel him staring at her as she reached for her top that was lying on the floor. Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt his arms helping her to get redressed. It was stuff like this that melted her very existence into a flustered mess. A quick roll in the hay she could handle, but the emotions and feelings she hadn’t experienced this since… Eddie. Even then, he was no comparison to the way Nick make her feel.

Her eyes shut at the soft remembrance of the sound of his voice, and as his fingers tucked a strand of her hair gently behind her ear. "Cath, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s all right, I don’t regret it, I just…,” She smiled softly to herself as she remembered his hand cradling her cheek lovingly before a fleeting kiss was placed on her forehead.

Now, here she was sitting like an idiot as she wondered out loud “What just happened?” She fell back onto her bed as she groaned inwardly at her sudden timing of being so hard up with sex. Granted it had been a long time since her last sexual encounter, but the moment she had an opportunity to make love with someone special she turned frigid. Did I just think of sex as making love?

She sat up immediately and pondered on going after him. He was everything to her and it might have taken her years to figure this out, but she would be damned to let him think he did something wrong tonight. She stood with her decision, and opened her bedroom door and noticed all the lights were out except for the bathroom light. "Lindsey?" Catherine asked in a whisper. The bathroom door opened, and Lindsey smiled at her before she returned to her room.

She waited until she heard her daughter's bedroom door shut before she managed her way through the darkness, and sat down on the edge of the couch as she leaned over his sleeping form. “Cat?” She jumped at his voice.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” She asked quietly as she smiled at his beautiful face. The face I want desperately to wake up to every morning. Her breathe hitched at her own thought. This was deeper than she originally thought.

She reached out and gently traced her hand along his face feeling the small stubble tickle her palm. “Nick…,” she started slowly and quietly as her golden hair fell loosely over her shoulder. “You did nothing wrong tonight. I...just panicked because I care a great deal about you.” She noticed as he opened his mouth to argue, but she delicately placed her finger over his lips quieting him. “I’m not done yet. I wanted it just as bad as you did. So please don’t beat yourself up over this because I…,” she stopped suddenly realizing what she was about to say. I love you. She cleared her throat as the blush crept up her cheeks.

Her eyes attached to his lips as a soft smile formed on his lips. She felt a strong pull towards him that radiated through out every inch of her body. An overflowing desire to have him near her seemed to cloud her mind as her body leaned forward as her lips ever so slowly and softly met his mouth. She felt as his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her a little closer as the passion grew. Her eyes opened as she pulled away slowly. “Nick...,I want you near me. Next to me. Will you hold me tonight?”
 
His legs felt slightly heavier, pitched toward the floor. Soft breathing noises startled him, his dark ebony eyes peeling open in the dark. The bright lights of Vegas lit up a trail of delicate blonde hair thrown over a shoulder, the face silhouetted and swallowed by the shadows. "Cat?"

“Sorry, did I wake you?”
"No, no, I had just dozed off I guess. Have I been out long?" Wondering how long he had been out, and how long she had been sitting there next to him, Nick eased himself back to sit up. But a hand, delicate and soft, blindly contacted with the side of his face, fingers tracing down his face in the quietly charged atmosphere. Freezing, he held his upper body up with his elbows propped awkwardly behind him, but afraid that if he moved, this moment would cease, cracking into a million pieces lit up like the midnight sky.

“Nick, You did nothing wrong tonight. I...just panicked because I care a great deal about you.” His lungs stung as he involuntarily sucked in a sharp intake of air, lips opening again to quietly rebut her, but the delicate fingers laid on his dry lips, silencing him beyond what he thought possible. His mind was connected with Catherine, and that's all that he could possibly think of, imagaining the wavering blue eyes staring back at him.“I’m not done yet. I wanted it just as bad as you did. So please don’t beat yourself up over this because I…"

His eyebrows furrowed again, but felt her fingers trail from his lips, replaced by her own lips. Caught up again in the moment, her sweet honey and soap scent filling his nostrils, his strong arms wrapped around her. Her body conformed to his, the only thing seperating them being the thin cream bedsheet Catherine had pulled from her closet not too long earlier. Pulling back at the same time, he took a breath equivalent to her's and stayed silent, his hands reaching out to cup her soft face. “Nick...,I want you near me. Next to me. Will you hold me tonight?”

Taking a second, he took another cooling intake of air and tried to piece together the puzzle. The scotch from earlier was wearing off, but was still strong enough to cloud his senses and the euphoric anxiety of realizing that the woman he adored for years was right here, in his arms, struck him. Nodding carefully, he leaned up and left a warm kiss on her lips, lingering only for a moment before pulling away and swinging his legs from under the sheet and onto the full carpet.

Not really sure of what he was doing, Nick spontaneously wrapped an arm under her shoulders and knees and picked Catherine up off of her feet and carried her into the bedroom. He lay her on her back gently where she had laid before and went back, shutting the door. Slowly, making sure she wasn't rethinking this, he eased himself onto the noticeably more comfortable bed and lay back, rolling onto his side to face Catherine and her shining eyes, delicate hair, gorgeous smile in the night. "Good night, Cat."
 
She clung to his neck as he carried her like a bride over the threshold of the very place they just almost united moments earlier. No man had carried her before. More to the point, no man laid her down on her bed, and expected nothing in return. She watched as he quietly walked back and shut her bedroom door enclosing them in the intimacy of her bedroom.

She rolled over on her side to face Nick as he laid down next to her, and her heart melted as he turned towards her. She smiled at him as she took in the sight of him in front of her on her bed. Everything about him was beautiful, strong yet gentle. She swallowed hard as she realized she had already fallen for him, and he had the power to make her vulnerable. The last person who had that kind of hold over her was Eddie.

"Good night, Cat." He said softly as his eyes remained focused on hers. Her eyes searched his face hoping upon hope that he would take her in his arms, and hold her tight. Without thinking she edged her way a little closer to him, and his strong arms opened up to her.

She fell into his strong embrace as she gently turned around, and curled up in front of him as he spooned her. She felt so safe, but small in his muscular arms, and it seemed she fit perfectly as his arms eloped around her easily. Her eyes closed in content as she felt his breath dust the side of her neck. “Good night Nicky.” She found herself whispering as she wished he could get closer than he already was to her.

She felt his lips brush the side of her forehead in a tender light kiss before he whispered back to her. “Night, Cat.” It took a moment to let herself succumb to sleep because the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around her was so nice she didn’t want to forget it. She wanted this moment to last forever as she embedded it into her mind. Crap…I’ve fallen in love with him. I’m in love with him. Her heart beat began to accelerate, and she wandered if he could feel it. The thought of them connecting in such an intimate way eased her fears of falling and she found her eyelids getting heavy as they slowly shut as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
 
"Nicky, come out and play with me! I'm lonely!" He sat on his haunches, still and quiet, breath light and heart rapidly beating through his tiny chest as he hid in the closet. The door opened to his room and she walked in. 'No, no, no.' Her bare feet trailed softly against his bedroom's dark blue carpet and they came to rest in front of the closet doors, as he saw through the slanted planks. Daring not to breathe, his dark brown eyes stared up at the doors, willing them not to open. But fate was not too kind to Nicholas Stokes. The doors slid open and he sat, petrified, staring at her rounded face, shaped by unnaturally blonde hair. "There you are, Nicky! I was afraid I lost you!" Pressing hard against the wall, he tried to evaporate, disappear, but her warm hands wrapped around his hands and pulled him up off the floor. She was taller than him, and his shock of brown hair stood sloppily on his head.

"No, no, no, please. I don't want to play anymore, Caroline. I just want to go to bed." Her smile broadened as she sat him down on the bed. He felt his eyes give way as she took off his t-shirt. "Caroline, please. Please, pretty please, Caroline. I just want to go to sleep." The tears fell down his cheeks as she slid his grey sweatpants off and forced him to lay down on his back.

"Now now, Nicky, it's not nice to not play with your guests. That's rude. And you don't want me to tell your mom or dad you've been bad, do you Nicky?" His chest began rising and falling sporadically in holding back sobs. "And you can't tell them that we played this game, because then you'd get in trouble, and then your mommy and daddy would send you away forever." His upper teeth bit down hard on his lower lip, breaking the skin and pooling a miniscule bud of blood on the lip. "Just do what we did before, Nicky. You played just right earlier."

Nick watched, as if from above, his entire childhood ordeal happening before him. Caroline, the way she forced him to please her and lay kisses on her skin. The way she fed him lies, cruel and harmful lies that had broken him down. It was happening again, the dreams had become more frequent lately, but it wasn't the first part he was now terrified of. The room began to spin below him and it was suddenly dark, and two much larger bodies tangled on the bed. A man, lanky but built for strength, held a woman under him. Her blonde hair glistened in the moonlight drifting through the white plastic blinds on the windows to the side of the bed.

The room seemed familiar, oddly familiar, and the woman's hands flailed to scratch the man as he attacked her. His hands held a deathly grip on her wrists and her legs were pinned under his heavy legs. Her mouth was gagged with a white sheet and a gravelly voice from the man's throat formed incomprehensible words. The moonlight caught a tear sliding down the woman's cheek. Her eyes, deep green-blue, came into view from behind the shadow of the man's arm and Nick opened his mouth to scream, yell, do anything to make the horrible nightmare stop. But his body was fixed, wherever it was, and the nightmare evolved, and it intensified, and all he could do was watch.

His eyes flew open wide, his body shaking and brow drenched in sweat. Beside him, Catherine continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of the horrors he had witnessed from behind his closed eyes. Softly sitting up, he felt the bed creak and Catherine roll over, but he didn't hesitate to stand and quickly open the door of her bedroom silently and blindly make his way to the kitchen. He had to get away, he couldn't stand being in the same room and with the same woman from his dream; it was driving him insane. He swiftly snatched up his gun from the coffee table as he passed the living room and sat it next to him on the counter by the sink. Grabbing a glass, Nick turned on the faucet and filled the glass, overflowing with water before shakily switching off the cool water. His lips met the smooth edge of the glass and downed the water, hands shaking as he strained to see the asprin bottle sitting on the sink's edge.

Unscrewing the cap, tapping out two caplets, and throwing them into his mouth, Nick set the glass on the counter and turned the faucet on again, rinsing his hands as he swallowed the caplets. He turned the water off yet again and rubbed his eyes furiously, as if he could wash away the memories, the dreams, the fears, all of it. Drying his hands on his jeans from the day before, Nick braced his hands on the counter, his right hand placed conveniently on the handle of the .9 mm. There was no chance he was going back to sleep that night.
 
She stirred more awake the moment she heard her bedroom door shut with a soft thud. She rolled over and found an empty space where Nick was only moments ago. The bedding was all in disarray and tangled on his side of the bed. She stifled a yawn as she slowly stood up, and shuffled her sleepy body to her bedroom door. The house now eerily quiet as she made her way through the living room, and slowly rounded upon the kitchen that still had a faint odor of burnt cheese.

Nicky...," she called out softly as a flirting smirk tilted her lips upward. She walked into the fairly dark kitchen, and took a sudden step backwards when she realized a barrel of a gun was pointing directly at her. Her ears heard the familiar noise of a 'click' as Nick cocked the gun. Her heart beat quickened as the fear webbed its way through her sole. "Nick," just a quiet shaky whisper emitted from her delicate mouth was all she could manage. The room so quiet she could hear the pounding of her heart as she swallowed hard.

Something seemed to click as his dark eyes widened and, and he began to constantly blink back tears. She remained frozen to her spot as she watched him lower his revolver, and place it on the counter. Her head tilted as her eyes followed him to the kitchen table as his body fell into a chair. His head fell forward as his hands reluctantly settled on his head.

She slowly walked over to him, and kneeled down in front of him as she placed her hands on each leg. “Nick, what is it?” Catherine asked as she lightly rubbed his upper thighs to sooth him.

“Don’t,” was the only response she received from him. Her eyebrows furrowed as her hands stilled their motion on his legs. “Talk to me, please? What’s wrong?” The room remained quiet except for his breath that remained a bit heavier than normal. “Nick?”

“Just go back to bed, Catherine.” His voice was soft, but firm. She could not help but notice that he called her Catherine and not Cat, which usually meant he was either very troubled or angry with her. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong,” she replied backs stubbornly.

“Cather…”


She did not give him a chance to rebut her as she interrupted him. “No, Nick. I’m not going to let you dismiss me when I can see something is upsetting you so much. "What is it?” She asked as her hands sought his strong hands, and gently squeezed them.
 
"Nicky..." His eyes widened, breath shallow as his fingers quietly pulled the gun from it's unlatched holster. The kitchen was dark, windowless, and the lights from Vegas halted at the entrance to the room, bathing him in darkness and mystery. That voice, the woman, that horrible voice from years and years ago. She was mocking him, mocking him for his vulnerability, for his sensitivity, for his pain.

He turned, firearm at his side, but he saw the outline of a woman, curved and dull in the darkness in which his eyes had adjusted. Raising the gun level with his shoulders, his eyes had fallen cold. She would not deceive him, harm him, or any other person in this house. Caroline, that dreaded name which haunted him floated in front of his eyes as he stared ahead. The figure walked closer into the kitchen, and he cocked the gun. No, not now, not tonight, not again.

"Nick." It was breathless, formal, and sweet. It wasn't lilting like the young woman from his dreams, and it wasn't teasing, chilling, tickling the spine. The figure stopped moving, and a pair of headlights shone through the window of the front room. This was no intruder, it was Catherine. 'Oh good God...'

How could he? How? How was it that he could raise a gun to her? Catherine, of all people! He was insane, he was troubled, he was haunted and he felt his soul darken, with anger and sorrow. After all these years he thought he could put that memory away, erase it from the hardrive of his memory and store it away. But it was still there, she was still there, and she had accomplished her mission. He had never been the same, and he had never told.

Not realizing he had begun to cry, he quickly began to blink his eyes, breath haggard as he slowly moved his finger from the trigger to the safety latch, and pulled it back into place again. His arms fell, as if broken, and his hand lay the weapon on the counter.

How? How could he have done that? How could he have possibly thought that she was back? That she had hunted him down? He was stronger now, well, at least he'd like to think so. But would he really be able to protect himself? He hadn't last time, and he almost died that time. If he hadn't been so damn naive and paid attention. Grissom always told him to be careful...

Nick found himself sitting in a chair, his elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. Over the pounding in his head, he could barely hear the padded footsteps of Catherine making their way to him, where they stopped. A gentle hand rested suddenly on his knees, and as comforting as the small gesture would have been before, it wasn't any help now. All he could think of were the hands of his babysitter, all those years ago. “Nick, what is it?” Her hands traveled to his thighs, trying to comfort him, but the contact was unbearable.

“Don’t." His voice was hoarse, his breathing still heavy and labored as he tried to come to terms with his actions. 'I held a gun to Catherine. How could I?' the movement of her hands ceased and he heard her softly let out a breath.

“Talk to me, please? What’s wrong? Nick?" He didn't mean for his response to be as harsh as it came out, but it did. He couldn't talk, no, never. He tried to form some kind of logical reason not to talk, but all that came out of his mouth was, "Just go back to bed, Catherine.” Nick himself was startled at the command, and he felt his windpipe closing against his will, his breath still heavy and head swimming in disbelief.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong."
"Cather-"

“No, Nick. I’m not going to let you dismiss me when I can see something is upsetting you so much. What is it?” How could she always see right through him? How did she always manage to make him express his thoughts, feelings, everything that he tried to keep secret. Everyone was entitled to privacy, why couldn't he?

But he felt his hands become surrounded in her noticeably smaller ones, warm and delicate, soft against his fingertips. His fists unfurled and wrapped around them, squeezing them lightly back. He always felt himself strong, a fortress, brick walls that could never be broken down. But time after time creeps and stalkers attacked him, threatened him, almost killed him. And each event he lived through took a piece of him with it. He couldn't go on living on his broken walls; he needed to step out the door.

"I-I...I had a dream, more like a memory. Re-remember how I told you before about, you know, when I was younger, my parents had to leave me with a babysitter and she..molested me? Well, I've been dreaming it more and more often lately, ever since this triple homicide began, but I mean, now it's starting to, honestly, scare me. The details I never remembered are coming back to me; the clothes I wore that night, the way her hair was pulled back, the scent of her rose perfume, the way the dim light from the lamp caught her dangling gold hoops, the lavender nailpolish on her fingers, her sharp green eyes dimmed with a crazy lust, the way her fingers trailed along my skin, the exact words she used to manipulate me..."

He shook his head hard back and forth, eyes pinched shut, a knot forming in his stomach. He didn't notice how his grip on her hands tightened, like a frightened child. "But, I've seen it all before, lived it before. It's not that part that scares me."

Nick quickly stood, relinquishing his grip on her wrists and walked away from her, to the other side of the kitchen island. How could he tell her? How could he let her know this without telling her? He couldn't, and he was too far deep now. "What, Nick? What is it?" Her voice was barely audible, and his knees felt like dust and shoulders too heavy as he braced himself, head hung low, against the counter. His eyes were closed, pain searing through him, his breathing noticeably faster.

"After I read that last letter, I began to dream th-that whoever's been doing this to you, to me, to us...I dreamed he raped you."
 
She was not expecting him to say that, and she began to wonder if she had even heard him right. Head tilting to the side as her mouth opened slightly in shock; she pulled a chair out and sat down slowly. Her chest tightened as his words swirled around in her head. “After I read that last letter, I began to dream th-that whoever’s been doing this to you, to me, to us…I dreamed he raped you.” All she could see was the blurry back of his head as her emotions seemed to get the best of her. Get a grip Catherine. But, this all seemed to be too much to take in. Things were just severely wrong, and it seemed that things just kept spinning out of control.

The only good thing was she picked the guy out of the line up, but then that alone seemed way too easy. Catherine’s hand shakily massaged her forehead as she realized something was off. Something felt wrong with that whole ordeal too, but she was not about to tell Nick this. He was obviously distraught for very good reason, but she could not get over the fact that moments ago he aimed a loaded gun at her. Who did he think she was exactly? An intruder… or worse the very woman that violated his very being at such a tender age? Now he was dreaming about her being raped? I can’t tell him now that the guy we have in custody doesn’t feel right to me.

She swallowed the bile that was rising up the back of her throat as she pushed her thoughts aside. Now is not the time to doubt myself. Obviously lost in thought, she nearly jumped as she felt Nick’s hand lightly touch her upper back. “Cat?” His voice was soft, but obviously questioning to see if she was okay.

“I’m fine Nick. Really. Nothing bad like that will happen to me. I mean we have the… guy in custody,” she tried to stop her train of thought but obviously lost. Looking down at her shaky hands, she belittled herself for letting Nick maintain the notion that they found the correct perp. You have got to stop doubting yourself. He will pick up on this.

“I’m…, well I’m just really worried about you,” her blue eyes nearly turned into oceans as she confessed this. “I mean you pointed a loaded gun at me, and God only knows what this…this woman did to you when you were just a child, and I don’t know how to make this better for you,” she whispered as a tear slid down her cheek and crossed over and fell down her lips. She absentmindedly wiped at it as she continued on. “What happened to you was awful, but I wouldn’t change the person you are today. Ugly things at times make us more beautiful, and I love the man you are today. But, I don’t know how to make you see…,” she felt a soft finger silencing her as his other hand gently wiped at the tears that slid down her face.

“Cat, I will move on past that mess. That isn’t what is bothering me as much. Sure, I mean, it’s something that will stay with me, but I’m more bothered with the latter part of my dream," he paused and reached up, brushing a curl behind her ear, just looking at her for a moment. "The last part is what truly disturbs me."

She looked up at him, and could not get past the concern that was displayed in his glassy eyes. “Nick,” she started as she looked down. “Maybe you should take some time off work because…,” her mouth opened in shock as he interrupted her. She was obviously saying something that did not sit with him too well.

“And, what the hell does that mean?” His tone laced in nothing but frustration.

“It means, that I think this case is getting to you. Come on Nick, it’s a hard case to begin with, and mixed with my near abduction and your past I just think that…,” her cheeks grew red as he interrupted her yet again. Unbelievable they were already having their first fight as a couple. Did I just think of us as a couple?

“Don’t go there, Catherine,” she winced at the sound of each syllable of her name on his lips. She knew then that she pissed him off. She opened her mouth to rebuttal him, but he beat her to the punch. “My personal life is not interfering with this case, and I’ll be damned if I let you use that against me.” His posture was now upright in a defensive stance as his jaw muscle flexed.

“Nick, I didn’t mean it like that. You just seem really bothered by the last letter, and well…,” she stopped as she looked into his heated eyes. It all clicked into place for her as she realized she never got a chance to see the latest evidence which most likely explained Nick’s behavior better. “Where is it Nick?” She watched in frustration as he pretended not to know what she was talking about. “THE LETTER, Nick…where is it?” She was now invading his personal space.

“Like hell, Catherine. Your not reading it.” His defiance frustrated the hell out of her. “Fine,” she fumed as her voice whined. “I will go get it myself,” she whispered as she grabbed his car keys to the Denali off the counter and started to walk outside.
 
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