OK, had a strange thought in the car the other day and I can't get the one quote out of my head I actually remember from this strange moment (and didn't have to think about it then as was distracted) and so thought I'd base a story on it and see if whatever I was going to think of comes out.
OK, didn't end up where I thought, but please let me know what you think, not my usual style, and only using Sara and Grissom in this case because I know how to write about them. They're both only secondary characters in this story. Sorry, stll got the tone of voice in my head I was still writing in and it's making me write strangely now. Anyway, please let me know what you think.
Grissom sat in the room, staring blankly out of the window. Sara has actually asked him out and he'd been forced to say no. He hadn't wanted to, god knows he hadn't wanted to, but with his operation coming up he'd been forced to. Sure he could've said yes and tried to explain about it all but the easiest answer really was to say no, it was always the easiest answer. Maybe life would be easier that way, if he never said yes to her, he could never be hurt by her.
He shivered slightly on the bed in the draughty robe. He was just waiting for the nurse to come and collect him now. He'd been pensive all day, sat there on his own. It was the second time she had asked him out directly, and the second time he had said no due to his ears. But last time he had seen Catherine before he went in, he had gained some strength from that meeting, this time nobody even knew he was going. Yes it had worked on one ear, but not the other, and if it didn't work this time then he would have to face up to the fact that he may no longer be able to carry on being a CSI.
He hadn't dared to tell anybody in case it raised questions. Today was his day off so nobody noticed him trying to leave work early or seem distracted all day. Nobody knew he was there. He could've told Sara why he'd said no, the chances of her asking him out again were extremely slim, not a third time. He could've tried to tell her, but he didn't want anybody knowing this weakness, what felt like a flaw in him. He was meant to be there boss, not some deaf person they pitied. No, he didn't want to tell anybody, not unless he had to if this didn't work.
He carried on staring out of the window his mind returning to a blank state.
Idly he watched the rain fall lightly outside the window, the city wasn't built for rain, he hoped the team didn't have any cases outside, the rain was changing, its pattern, its frequency, from where he sat he couldn't tell if it was leaving or a storm was coming.
He watched impassively as it turned to snow gently.
It very rarely snowed in Vegas, but his mood was that low that not even the sight of this rare thing could cheer him up.
He sat watched it, silently without moving.
He watched a single snowflake drift down in front of the window and finally set on the window near the bottom. It slowly melted and ran down the window as a single drop of water.
'We're all just snowflakes in the end' he thought to himself, 'everyone's slightly different but we all have to conform to the same rules eventually, everybody has to die some time, lose their job, lose their abilities sometimes, just like snowflakes has no choice in the direction it goes, it can drift sideways, but it still has to go down.
I can control what's happening to me as much as a snowflake can decide to fall upwards back towards the clouds. Whatever happens, we're hardly here for anytime. A few years at most, the snowflake with melt, some may last days, some mere seconds, but everything must come to an end. We just fill our lives with so much nonsense that we don't notice the emptiness, as though if we ignore it the end won't come, like if we convince ourselves enough, say it often enough to ourselves then we won't melt.
But everything comes to an end, everything dies, we all go back to earth eventually. We just have to fill each moment we can to try and forestall it, and all the better if we can fill it with happy moments. We're all slightly different, everyone unique, no two snowflakes are the same, but each has it's own beauty and lines of symmetry, we all conform to the direction, but maybe we can choose a few of our own twists and turns along the way. Maybe we can decide to go sidewards once in a while.'
Maybe it was time he stopped taking the easy route, explain a few things to Sara and see if she could forgive him, see if it was too late to accept her offer, and if it was then if she'd ever accept a similar one of his. They may not have long in life, nobody did, but if she could make him feel like he might not melt, then maybe he wouldn't, not as quickly, and if not he'd be able to enjoy the time before he did.
He finally made the long overdue decision to do something about this and he'd act on it the first second he could.
The nurse finally came into the room, pushing a wheel-chair in front of her, last time he'd told her he didn't need it, this time, still thinking, he simply sat down when she told him it was time to go.
She asked if he was ready and if he had everything he needed. He barely heard her, but part of him seemed to register what she was saying. He had all he needed to survive, he could eat, he could breathe, he could move, he was already better off than some people. But he didn't have everything he needed to feel alive, the return of love and affection, knowing that when he woke up in the morning it would be next to someone he loved and not alone, to the cold careless sound of an alarm clock, but to the warmth of someone murmuring his name or lying in his arms. He may not have had everything he needed then, but he now knew what he needed and he would do everything he could to get it.
He stood up from the wheelchair and nodded at her. She looked at him but led him down the corridor, making no comment on him not using or needing the chair.
'Everybody may have to go in one general direction, but maybe we can all decide if we want sideways once in a while. Maybe if we're in the right place at the right time, someone can catch us from our freefall, and maybe, just maybe, for one small second, we'll forget that we're melting.'