May 22, 2022
11.02 Pool Shark (in which David Hodges is the ultimate Mood)
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11.02 Pool Shark (in which David Hodges is the ultimate Mood)
“Nick,” Hodges said. “Busy night.”
“They always are, Dave.”
“You manage to get through them, though, and usually with a smile on your face. A person’s got to admire that.”
“I guess so.” Nick nodded to the file folder Hodges carried. “You got something for me?”
“Oh, right.” Hodges shook his head briskly, as if he had completely forgotten why he had interrupted Nick.
(CSI: Brass in Pocket by Jeff Mariotte, pg 77)
10.18 Field Mice requested by @frozenmemories1987
11.02 Pool Shark
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2 Rating: T+ Characters: Nick Stokes, David Hodges, Warrick Brown, Gil Grissom, Catherine Willows Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nick Stokes Whump, Sickfic, Episode: s07e12 Sweet Jane, Episode: s07e13 Redrum, Hantavirus Summary:
Nick faces the consequences of not wearing a mask while sifting through rat-infested evidence under a fume hood.
Notes: Got a comment from nickjack01 asking for more on the previous chapter, and I delivered 👏
14.21 Kitty for @starryhc
bonus background shots of Nick having way too much fun:
nick: so fix it!
hodges: what do you propose I do?
nick: ....well, I don't know
*two seconds later*
nick: you want me to do it?
No pressure but from the angst prompts no 20 for Nick and David if you would?
“I want you to stop touching me.”
The first five words, arranged in their aforementioned order, were common words spoken to David Hodges over the course of his life.
“I want you to stop talking.”
“I want you to leave.”
“I want you to stop stalking me.”
He’s always been told to stop, but has never asked anybody else to.
And yet right now, he’s asking Nick Stokes--Nick goddamn Stokes--of all the people he has the right to tell to stop, and not only to just stop anything, but to stop touching him. Stop wiping away his tears. Stop trying to offer him comfort when he doesn’t deserve it.
“I want you to stop touching me,” he repeats, as he bites down on his fist and walks away.
“Goose--”
Silly nicknames won’t help. He can’t look at Nick’s face. Not like this.
“Don’t. Just...just don’t.”
“I know...I know this...this has been hard on all of us, I just wanta make sure you’re okay--”
“How can anybody be okay with this?” David laughs incredulously, meeting Nick’s own shining eyes with his own for the first time since they were left alone in Trace, waiting for results that won’t actually come for another few hours.
“I ratted on him,” David chokes.
“You didn’t.”
“You were even pissed about it, you were right to be--”
“You were concerned. So was I,” Nick shrugs. “And yeah, I was pissed but...I could have handled it better. Could have...done more...”
Nick turns away, one hand resting on his hip, the other wiping his face. Even in a time like this, he won’t let the cracks show.
“Aren’t you tired of this?” David asks him.
“Of what?”
“Being strong? Don’t you want to just...collapse?”
David feels a twinge of guilt, wishing he could just fall backwards into Nick’s arms, be held up as he was mere hours ago.
“I do. But I have to be strong. For everyone. For Warrick.”
His embrace tightens, nearly crushing David’s chest but David just cups his hands behind Nick’s head, pulls it against his own, tasting the tear that drips out of the leaking faucet of his eyes.
“For you.”