Summary: Grissom goes to Sara, in California. She seems to be going through a strange healing process. Post Goodbye and Good Luck. A lot of water falls from the sky. GSR.
RAIN
CHAPTER ONE
His cell phone bleeped and Grissom took it out automatically, barely taking his eyes from the scene. A naked dead woman, sprawled on her back, neck bruised, eyes open. Nick knelt by the bed as if in prayer, a camera to his face.
NEW TEXT MESSAGE
Grissom pushed the button.
From:
To:
Subject: RE:re:re:re:re: Dear Sara
Come to me.
Lat. 40.695° W Long. 120.871° N
His eyes saw the sender's name and the three words. Come to me. That was all it took and he was rushing for the door. Nick yelled after him, "Gris! Hey! Where are you..." and he barked some automatic command, his fingers grasping his keyring as he silently brushed by an astonished officer and then he was speeding away.
"Come to me." Grissom could hear Sara's husky voice saying it.
Sara.
Come to me. Of course I will I will go or do or say anything Sara. Anywhere. Anything. Anything at all. Anywhere you need me. I will.
"I'm coming, Sara," Grissom told the night and the road.
He was miles down the dark street when his mind caught up to his heart and he realized he was in the crime lab vehicle with evidence in the back, so he turned automatically and reached the lab on autopilot. Grissom found Catherine in the hall, looking at a folder as she walked.
"Catherine!!"
"What? Gil?"
"I have to go. Now."
"Go?"
"It's Sara."
"Oh." Catherine's face transformed from confusion to concern to understanding.
"Go–of course–is she alright?"
Grissom tossed her the keys and strode briskly to his office, got his bag, and he was back in his own car and in motion in a breath as if he'd rehearsed this sudden departure for days. In a way he had. They'd barely been in touch since she kissed him in front of Hodges and then fell out of his life, with only a page declaring her love and her sorrow and her need to go.
Come home Sara. Come back to me.
Sara's letter, crumpled but folded carefully, was in his pocket. It was taken out and read at the end of every day, read again, and then replaced in the pocket of the next jacket he wore. Day after day.
Sara had left everything behind, her whole life.
That can only mean she is coming back, or will tell me to come after her. When she's ready. He told himself that, night after night, hoping for either, waiting. Waiting.
She didn't answer her cell phone on that horrible night or any of the empty days after but she did, later, respond to his frantic text messages, so Grissom knew she was alive and on her way to where she needed to be. They exchanged brief texts at odd hours, days apart, too emotional to speak on the telephone, too hurt to see each other's faces. Neither really said much to the other, just reassuring words of love and regret. Pain. So much pain. Hope. Promises of forgiveness. Worry. Need. Love. Hurt.
I miss you.
I miss you too.
Where are you?
I love you, Gil.
I love you Sara.
At last she had told him she was in California. Of course–where else did she have to go?
"Our life together was the only home I've ever known. I wouldn't trade it for anything." Grissom could hear her say these sad words in his head, her voice so choked with pain and laced with regret.
So he drove toward California. Wait. There was more.
Grissom pulled into a gas station and picked up his cell phone, still open, still on the message. He read off the coordinates and smiled to himself. That's my clever girl. That's my Sara.
Grissom punched the numbers into his GPS unit and there it was, a blinking green dot with a line stretching from him to her. His fingers typed on the tiny keyboard of his phone.
I'm on my way.
SEND.
MESSAGE SENT.
TBC