New Fic: The Slaves of Las Vegas

Author: Wilwarin1
Rating: R
Paring: Nick Stokes/Gil Grissom
Disclaimers: I´m just borrowing the characters of CSI. Oh, and the title of this fic too.
Type of story: AU (Alternate Universe)
Summary: Welcome to Nevada Free State. The year is 2000. Nevada is an independant republic. No longer part of the USA. It has it´s very own unique way of dealing with crime. Criminals who are stupid enough to get caught are sold into slavery. Nick Stokes has been dating Kristy Hopkins, news anchor, for a couple of weeks when she gets killed, murdered. Three guesses who takes the fall. And three guesses who will have to come to the rescue. WARNING: This is not a nice story, but it will get better!



The silence in the court room was oppressive and only occasionally broken by the soft whispers of the audience. The waiting was taking a long time as in a room close to the court room a jury sat in conference, trying to determine whether the evidence brought in against the suspect was enough for a conviction.
This was a murder case. One that had held the publics attention over the last few weeks. Kristy Hopkins had been a popular news anchor with FSNTV until she was suffocated at her home. It had shocked the people of Las Vegas. Cries for justice had been heard everywhere. But nowhere more so than on the news channel. Hopkins co-host, Jack Willman, had been angry and sad all over the eight o’clock news for days. The public felt for him and with him.
The pressure on Law Enforcement had been fierce. Kristy’s murderer had to be caught and brought to justice. Evidence found at her house had quickly let the police and the crime scene investigators of Las Vegas to a suspect. One of their own. Nick Stokes.
It was his conviction all of Nevada Free State now eagerly awaited.

“All rise!” The bailiffs voice carried far into the silence of the court room. Expectant murmurings banished the silence completely as the audience rose to see the jury being let back into the court. All eyes were on them as they once again took up their seats.
“Chairman, have the members of the jury come to a decision?” The judge asked and the man he addressed, black and of middle age with greying hair and sad eyes, rose to nod.
“We have, Your Honour.”
“Was the verdict unanimous?”
“It was, Your Honour.”
“Would you please read the verdict, Chairman?”
“Yes, Sir.” The man turned towards the suspect and unfolded the little slip of paper he held in his hand. He took one look at it.
“Your Honour, members of the court, we, the jury, find the defendant guilty of the murder of Kristy Hopkins.”
Chaos broke out before the man even had time to finish speaking the words. The audience rose as one, applauding, cheering as they did so. All except one man who remained seated, whose face turned a ghastly pale on hearing those words. For the rest of his life those words, damning Nick Stokes, would echo in the memory of Gil Grissom, graveyard shift supervisor at the CSI headquarters in Las Vegas. When finally he did rise it was to look over the heads of the relieved crowd to seek out a pair of dark eyes in the stricken face of the man he had worked with for so many years. And he found Nick looking back up at him, face edged with disbelieve and horror, his eyes clinging to his face like it was his last line to life. This was what they had been dreading since Nicks name had first come up during the investigation, had been working so hard to forestall. It had all been for nothing. Gil Grissom wanted to cry.
But it wasn’t over yet. The judge still had to announce his sentence, though no one there ever had any doubt as to what that sentence would be.
“Would the defendant please rise?” The judge said and the audience hushed, returned to their seats as Nick Stokes did the opposite.
“Nick Stokes, you have been found guilty of the murder of Kristy Hopkins. Her death was meaningless and brutal. You showed her no mercy and so this court finds it unnecessary to give you our mercy, despite your impeccable state of service to this city and our proud republic. Your act of violence to one of Las Vegas´ own will not be forgotten. Your name will not be forgotten by those Kristy Hopkins, a talented and bright young woman, leaves behind. And you will not forget what you have done. I hereby sentence you to be sold into captivity and slavery for the remainder of your natural life. Your auction will take place four days from now. Bidding will start, by decree of this court, at $ 1000,00. You will now return to your cell. Court is adjourned!”

Four days later found Gil Grissom on a lonely drive up to the Nevade Free State Pen, some thirty miles up the I15 from Las Vegas. Outside the car the sun shone, the air blisteringly hot on this desert afternoon. Inside the car the air felt blissfully cool, all thanks to the excellent AC the car housed. All in all this was a pretty good day for a drive into the country, if there had been anything like a good day since the trial.
It was the talk of the day. You couldn’t turn on the radio or the TV and not hear about the widespread speculation about what price Nick Stokes would fetch in the auction tomorrow. Or about who his new owner would be. The air was buzzing with rumour. Grissom paid it no mind. He had called in sick the day after the verdict, something he hadn’t done in at least half a decade. The truth was he didn’t care about that, about his job or his career. Not when it had an innocent man going down for a crime someone else had committed. For let there be no doubt that Nick Stokes was innocent.
Yes, his DNA had been found on the whine glass in the Kristy’s living room, and yes, the DNA in the condom found in the waste basket of her bathroom had been his too. Based on that alone Nick would never have been convicted. Kristy Hopkins and Nick Stokes had been the centre of gossip for week prior to her death as they were spotted more and more often in public together. His co-workers had teased him about it mercilessly. And Nick had accepted it with good grace.
What finally did him in was the damning testimony Jack Willman had given. He had swung by Hopkins house the night she was murdered to drop off some notes on next days show and he had seen them in her living room. The fight he had witnessed had not been pleasant. On the question why he hadn’t done anything to stop it Willman had answered that he wasn’t hero material and that he could never have gone up against an officer who packed a gun. No way man. His words had been accompanied by a very real shudder that had made Grissoms stomach turn. The man was good, made his living playing the part of a professional anchorman, serious and involved. But he lied as good as he anchored and Grissom had known who had really killed Kristy Hopkins. There just hadn’t been any evidence to back that theory up.
And as a result of that tomorrow an innocent man would be sold into livelong slavery. For that was the way Nevada Free State dealt with its criminals. It had been the worlds newest republics answer to prisons bursting at the seams and repeat offenders and shrinking budgets. Those who soiled the name of the state were made to work until the damages were paid in full through slavery. How long that took was partly determined by the nature of the crime and partly by the behaviour of the slaves. A simple B&E would mean a couple of months of forced labour. But for a murder like the one of Kristy Hopkins the term was life with no chance of freedom ever again.
The thought alone made Grissom clench his hands so hard on the wheel that his knuckles turned a stark white. Nobody deserved that and certainly not Nick Stokes. But that was not how this whole mess was turning out.

One hour later Grissom sat behind the reinforced Plexiglas divider of the prison as on the other side Nick Stokes sat down. For a few moments neither man reached for the phones, just stared at each other. Grissom managed to smile at the younger man, but behind the smile he hid a world of emotions. Seeing Nick like this, clad in the traditional orange coveralls of the Nevada Free State Penal System, felt wrong. Seeing the pinched, almost defeated look in Nicks eyes made him want to scream and rip out the damn Plexiglas with his bare hands. But instead he gestured for Nick to pick up the phone as he lifted the one on his side.
“Hey, Nicky.” He said and Nick rewarded him with smile that was gone as quickly as it had come.
“Hey.” His voice sounded hoarse and it made Grissom shiver. Nick sounded and looked exhausted. Had he slept as poorly as Grissom had since the trial?
“How are you, Nick? Are you okay?”
“As good as can be expected, I guess. How about you?”
“I´m doing okay.”
“And the others?”
“They´re good as well. Busy. You know.”
“Yeah, I do.”
It was polite conversation, they both knew, a way to dance around the one subject neither man wanted to breach.
“So, I guess this is it, right? This is goodbye?” Nick said and he looked scared. Grissom had to swallow past the enormous lump in his own throat before he could speak again.
“For now, Nick. Only for now. We will see each other again, that I promise.”
“How? Tomorrow I’ll be sold. God knows to who or where. Don’t kid yourself, Grissom. We won’t see each other again.” Nicks voice was hard, the words clipped and Grissom shook his head.
“Don’t say that, Nicky. We’re all still working on your case. We’ll get you free, I promise.”
“How?” Nick repeated, his face a dusky shade of red, “Do you really think that there’s any evidence left to find? It’s over, Gris. Accept it and move on.”
“You sound like you’re giving up, Nick. Don’t, please. There is a way out of all this and we will find it, even if it means we’ll have to overturn every stone in Vegas. You are innocent. I know that and you know that. Just don’t give up on us, on life. Can you promise me that, Nick?”
“I don’t know how, man. I’m so…scared.” Tears glistened in his eyes when Nick looked up again and it broke Grissoms heart.
“I know you are, Nicky, I know. I wish I could change this, get you out, right now. But I can’t, not yet. Until I can I need you to be strong, Nick. For the both of us. Do you trust me, Nick?”
“Yes.” Nick whispered as the tears made tracks across his cheeks.
“Do you trust me when I tell you that I will find a way to free you?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it takes time? Will you still trust me then?”
“Yes.”
“Good, Nick. That’s good.”
Another long silence followed. Then Nick looked up, his emotions under control again for now.
“Will you be there tomorrow?”
“Nick, I…”
“Please? It would make me feel so much better to know that you’re there.”
And it will destroy me, Nicky, Grissom thought, but it was not what he said. This much he owed the young man sitting across from him.
“Yes, I’ll be there if you want me to.”
The hesitant smile on Nicks face made it all worth it.