Title – Lucky
Disclaimer – I don't own CSI :(.
Summary – Grissom comes face to face with his worst fears. WARNING major Sara angst.
Rating – T
Author's Note – This story takes place sometime around the fifth season.
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Gil Grissom was a quiet and reserved man, kept to himself most of the times and had a geeky personality. He was witty and at random times cracked dry jokes. He cared deeply for his work and for his team mates; they were in a way his family. His age had nothing to do with how well he worked or if he could work at all. He was middle aged, and yet felt like he was in his thirties. He had bad knees which bothered him at night, but nothing a little Motrin couldn't help. His hearing was a huge factor but now that situation had been taken care of, he could rest easy. He wasn't going to lie, most of his energy came from his excitement of working, but there was a more reasonable explanation. And she came with a name, Sara Sidle. She was young, inhibited, and passionate. She made him want to wake up everyday and smile, even in the face of death.
He was selfish. He wanted her so near yet he pushed her away continually for fear of showing her that yes, he did want her. He couldn't risk his job, his life's passion. Without his job, what would he have? Just Sara? Was he willing to risk it? Was she worth it?
She was beautiful, especially last month they spent the night at Mandalay Bay for a Forensics Convention and spent the better half at the pool. Man he never knew how long those legs were or how cute her hair curled when it dried naturally. She and Greg bantered all day long in the water drifting along in the lazy river on their tubes and after a few drinks they talked Grissom into playing water polo with the whole team. She was so adorable with her sun burnt cheeks and broad smile that it was so hard not to imagine how it would be if they were together. But if he lost his job just to be with her… would their relationship be the same?
He stepped into the break room of the CSI lab head quarters and frowned when the person consuming his thoughts was missing. He looked at his watch. An hour in, she should be here.
"Anyone see Sara?" Gil asked looking up into his team's faces.
Sofia shrugged, and Greg bit his lip. Catherine, Nick and Warrick happened to be there also. Warrick just shoved a donut in his mouth shaking his head.
"She isn't answering her cell. Although last night she said she wasn't feeling well, maybe she took some medicine and passed out." Greg suggested.
Grissom nodded and accepted that answer. She was probably over working herself again. Lately he too noticed her spacey far away look and tired features.
Catherine, Nick and Warrick went off to their own case they were working on so Grissom assigned Greg and Sofia to a B&E with a possible 419.
He had his own case file. A maggot infested autopsy with Doc Robbins.
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Allison Taylor liked to believe she was a patient person, which is why she lives here in Vegas, but damn!
Her neighbor was always quiet and rarely made noise, especially since she worked nights and slept during the day. Her neighbor was in the apartment directly above hers and she really didn't know a whole lot about her except she was a thirty three year CSI named Sara and every once in a while she would water her plants for her when she was away.
Sara Sidle was something else. She never had people over, occasionally it seemed she would have a date which would lead to talking from the low mumbles in the silence. That would sometimes lead to sex. She blushed thinking about how loud her acquaintance could be.
So to be fair, Allison never had a problem with her upstairs neighbor, but since Ally woke up at ten AM Sara has had her music pretty loud. It was now almost midnight and the girl still had her blasted music on. Now she had some pretty similar tastes in music but she needed some sleep damn it! She tried calling all day, no answer.
She knew she was home, she could hear footsteps padding through the house. Alley flipped her short dirty blonde hair over her shoulder and stepped to the kitchen to grab a drink. That's when she heard it, a loud crash coming from above her. Her heart quickened from surprise and she listened intently. It sounded like a glass bottle crashing to the floor. What made her sick was the sickening thud that followed a moment after.
Without another second thought the yoga therapist ripped from her room straight to the elevators. She prayed she was over reacting, but it was better to be safe then sorry. She shoved her way through the elevator doors not waiting for them to open all the way and ran to Sara's apartment number. The outside of her door always smelled spicy like cinnamons. She knocked and rang the door bell several times. After two minutes she looked above the wall light posted on the wall and reached inside where a hidden key was. She knew it was there from all the times she watered plants while Sara was away on cases far away.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside of the cool dark apartment. The music playing in the background was loud yet eerily soothing.
"Sara?" She called out stepping further into the apartment. She had to be careful incase Sara was a paranoid CSI and shot her brains out onto the wall. The place smelled of alcohol, and it burned her nostrils. A sour smell filled the living room also. Vomit.
Alley frowned, what the hell happened here? She tip toed into the kitchen and found papers and books scattered all over the place. It looked as if Sara was searching for something. She passed the kitchen and went to the master bed room.
"Sara?" She called again. The vomit stench was stronger in here. Suitcases were open and clothes were strewn across the floor and most of them inside the bag in a heaping mess. An empty bottle of vodka was laying on her pillow and on her bed was a bottle of pills. She ignored that not wanting to be too nosey and sauntered off back into the main hallway. Next she turned and went into the living room wonder just where Sara went when her blood ran cold. A foot was all she could see hidden behind the coffee table.
She ran and fell to her knees seeing what she feared. Sara lay on her back hair sprawled out and one arm over her stomach while one arm lay palm up near her head. Her skin was ghostly pale and upon further inspection, Sara was not breathing.
Tears emerged and she called her name. She tried shaking her but nothing worked. Quickly Alley got up and dialed 911.
As instructed she stayed on the phone until help arrived.
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Gil tried calling Sara a few more times during the day before he gave up entirely hoping she was getting some much needed rest. The girl wasn't sleeping, he could see it in her body movement. She was bothered.
He strolled down the halls rushing to the shower stalls. He always felt so dirty after autopsies. The stench of death always clung to his pores. As he scrubbed away the dead skin cells with burning hot water his mind kept drifting to where Sara was that night. Even if she was ill, she would still show up. Unless she really did pass out. To have her not call was the next weird thing.
Grissom finished his shower and went to the break room the second time that night only to find Greg and Sofia were there already.
"Done with your case already?"
"Yeah the B&E happened to be the owner of the house. He locked himself out and climbed through the window, apparently he slipped and took a tumble on his head. He bled internally before he could reach the phone to call 911.
Grissom shook his head, death was always a shame. His phone rang, he picked it up without checking who was calling hoping it was Sara.
"Grissom."
"Gilbert Grissom?" A male voice asked.
"Yes." Gil took a seat across from Sofia and Greg giving them a blank stare.
"My name is Dr. Mike Morgan and I am calling on behalf of a Miss Sara Sidle. We have you listed as an emergency contact for her here at Desert Palms Hospital."
"What?" Panic was written on his features and all Sofia and Greg could do was watch in morbid curiosity.
"Sara was emitted here a few hours ago and we finally got a chance to call her emergency contact, we should discuss things here. Ask for me when you get here."
Before Grissom could ask anymore the line went dead.
"Griss? You look pale, what was the call about?" Sofia asked.
"I've got to go. Something about Sara." He stood up and left quickly before anyone had a chance to speak.
He was on a mission. He passed the hallways dashing out of the way and being careful to avoid eye contact. Confused by passers watched as Gil rushed on through. Normally this kind of behavior was normal in a forensics lab, but not when it was just one man and avoiding any contact with anyone. As he rushed to his parked Denali he quickly drove out of the parking lot once again his mind filled with thoughts. He always worried about his CSI's. Every single day he sent them out with a pink paper with the address showing them where to go he silently prayed they returned home safely.
He worried about Sara if not more then the other's. Mainly because of how attached she gets during cases. He could see her self putting herself in harms way, if it meant getting her point across. But this time she was off shift, which gave him that sick feeling that maybe she was drunk driving again and got into a fatal accident.
He shook his head; it was probably something she ate. Or maybe she passed out from over exertion.
It was strange how hospitals and morgues were so different yet their smells were closely similar. The disinfectant stung the nostrils and gave chills to children about memories of shots. For the CSI team it wasn't the memories of shots, it was the memories of death, pain, tears, horrible thoughts of what torture the people went through before they died.
Grissom shuffled up to the reception area and wiped his face. He had a habit of doing that when he was frustrated or upset.
"Excuse me, I received a call from Dr. Mike Morgan. A CSI was emitted and I am listed as her emergency contact." Grissom pulled out his ID and placed it on the counter, he knew the drill, "Sara Sidle is her name."
The older woman started typing away on her computer and frowned, "It looks like she collapsed again. She is back in surgery. You'll have to wait for the Dr to come out."
Grissom's shoulder's slumped and slowly he trudged over to the waiting chairs. And waited. And waited. He was starting to develop a nervous twitch.
His phone started ringing. Cautiously he picked it up, in case it was the lab demanding he come back. It was Catherine.
"Yeah?"
"Sara's in the ER?!" Leave it to Catherine to find out right away.
"I don't know what for, I'll call you later with information."
"Gil… you don't have to be there alone, I just left work."
"No, thank you, you just finished a double. I'll be okay, I don't even know what is going on." He was wiping his face again.
"Okay… if you need anything don't hesitate to call."
"Thanks." And the line went dead.
He must have been so nervous that he passed out and was being shaken awake by a red headed man.
"Dr. Grissom?" Gil sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, the man looked exhausted, "I'm Dr. Morgan."
Grissom shook his hand and scooted more towards his face. "Is she okay? What happened?"
"When we have cases like this it's easier to jump in head first. We can't be sure we have to start an investigation, and I'm sure your team will handle that. Apparently Sara tried to commit suicide."
It hit him like a bag of bricks and needles right in the chest. The force and cold prickle as his blood ran cold made him waver and teeter. Suicide? No… not Sara. She had issues and dealt with pain differently but …. Suicide? Sara was stronger then that, she saw death everyday and knew she never wanted to be found so weak and desperate for a way out. She knew there was a different way out.
"You okay? I know it's hard, suicide is never easy, especially when they are near us everyday."
Gil nodded but didn't dare say anything for fear of saying something he'd regret.
"Her neighbor called it in. Any longer and she would have died. She consumed almost two bottles of vodka with a half bottle of anti- depressants and half a bottle of diazepam. It put her body into shock and if her neighbor wouldn't have found her… well you know how it would have ended up."
"Can I see her?" Grissom chocked out. His voice was horse, and this throat throbbed. He had to strain to keep his composure. He was so confused and wanted to start an investigation right away. Some bastard had to have poisoned her… that would be that only explanation.
The Doctor looked down to the floor, Grissom knew that look. No but since I feel bad you almost lost your loved one… I'll do something.
And sure enough, "Normally we are not aloud to since she is in such a state that must be monitored, but we will make arrangements for you to see her for fifteen minutes. If you'll follow me." Grissom stood up and kept an eager pace next to the doctor.
They passed a woman crying out in a foreign language, but it was obvious her husband just died from the words she was using and the grief she was expressing. A little girl with long black hair was sickly pale looking and crying over and over that she will be good and never play in daddy's work shop as a needle was being administered to a nasty gash on her knee. Stitches, Grissom shivered.
He was taken behind a set of beige double doors and into a dark room. The constant beeps and wires running everywhere around the room was a morbid feel. His heart ached when he saw her. She looked like a broken doll with pale skin and dark rings around her eyes. Sweat gathered on her body, fever. Three IVs were in her arms, a rather big tube was shoved in her mouth and breathing tube in her nose. She looked horrible, and yet oh so beautiful, so much more then the flesh and bone that she was. And he wanted nothing more then to hold her, to make her broken heart right. How could such a strong person resort to such a horrible way out?
"Can I have her stomach contents?" His voice barely carried but Dr. Mike got the message.
"I've already sent it to your lab." He walked over and patted her feet, "She's a good one, helped my daughter through her murdered boyfriend case. Never left her side and never rested once to find the bastard who murdered him. Take care of her Dr. Grissom."
Gil nodded, knowing how special she was and how dangerously close he came to loosing her… again.
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When Dr. Morgan finally escorted Grissom out, he was in his cell phone the minute he was through those sliding glass doors to the parking structure.
"Catherine." The curt reply came.
"Catherine it's Grissom, I need you at Sara's place right now."
"Got it." The tone went dead.
Catherine was always like that, do it and ask questions later, it was one of the reasons she was on her way to becoming the same rank as Grissom.
Grissom received a key from the doctor, he got into Sara's belonging locker and handed it to him for investigation. He stepped in and frowned. It was cool and dark he switched on his flash light and walked in, waiting for Catherine to show up. Last time he was in this apartment, her place smelt like cinnamon and kind of spicy but he only got a whiff of that through the front door, but as he stepped in now the place smelled of sour alcohol and putrid vomit.
"Oh Sara…" Gil turned around to see Catherine standing there with her flashlight in hand and looking at the mess, "What did you do?" She asked the brunette out loud.
"Place is a mess, she usually has nothing in visible sight but papers and books are everywhere." Grissom speculated and walked into the kitchen.
"Broken Vodka bottle, I'll bag it up and have the lab run it for prints."
"Gil…" Catherine asked taking pictures of the scattered magazines and books, "Was Sara attacked?"
Grissom was silent for a moment looking at a small puddle of clear puke, "I would like to believe so… that's why I asked for you, I want to keep this under wraps but… I think Sara may have tried attempted suicide."
Catherine sighed as if understanding, "Oh Sara."
He looked over and knew Catherine had this part of the house more then covered so he stood up and strolled into Sara's master bedroom where her bathroom mirror was open. She had a few hand towels on the counter and a big fluffy towel around the shower stall. He looked inside of the mirror cabinet and felt a pang, there were bottles and bottles of sleeping pills, anti depressants, vitamins, pain killers, and birth control. Most of the bottles were full except for the vitamins. He turned away from the bathroom and went to her bedroom.
Her room was in neat order, except all of her drawers were open and what clothes she had left were scattered and tossed messily. He heard a crack and stepped back quickly not wanting to contaminate his evidence. He leaned down and picture a photo frame off the floor. It was from years ago, when he first met Sara. They were at a Forensics entomology conference and she was his star pupil, after wards they went out to eat and walked along the beach. They changed into their suits and of course a picture was involved. She was so happy and so eager to learn. She was so full of life… no worries filled her eyes.
He sat down on her bed the frame still in hand, where he stepped he broke the glass running a crack right between the two… he was never one for superstitious or beliefs but he was always open to hear them and this… looking at the symbolism …. He was the one that tore them apart.
He set the frame down and looked into the armoire mirror and his breath hitched. Several bags and suitcases were open and that's where most of her clothes were.
She was packing up and ready to leave. Where to or why he wasn't sure, but it was a sure thing, Sara was planning on leaving. On the pillow was an empty bottle of vodka and next to that was a half empty bottle of diazepam and Tricyclic.
"She was planning on leaving." Catherine stated the obvious as she strolled into the room checking the place out.
"I want to believe someone did this to her… but until the lab results come back on prints proving someone else was here… I think she took too many pills and started drinking and had a panic attack, starting to pack everything she had. The mess indicates a panic and from how much alcohol and pills she consumed she went down."
"That sounds about right… but Sara… suicide? Would you have ever imagined?"
"People are full of surprises." He sighed and picked up the pill bottle, with gloves of course. He began printing the anti depressants and lifted several partials but all appeared to be the same, "I think she was shining her teeth until meaningless, to show off such a fake smile. When people are truly hurting, they don't want others to know, or they do but don't know how to show it since they are so used to facades. So when people don't notice their suffering they grow even more into deep depression."
"Why do you think Sara is depressed? The job? You know everyone gets depressed on this job… is she trying to get attention?" Catherine always respected Sara but this seemed a bit mellow dramatic. She saw suicide victims all the time and tried to sympathize with them, but sometimes it was so hard when she was a working mom with hardly any time to see her daughter and constantly picking battles with her pubescent kid.
Grissom knew, Catherine thought Sara was just a dramatic person, but in truth Sara has been troubled all her life. Grissom didn't know the full extent but from what she told him her mother murdered her father. There was plenty of abuse in her home, and probably as a child she felt the need for suicide as a way out of that hell. But Sara was always head strong and used her weakness as her strength. But now… he felt her past mixed with the now… maybe it was too much for her. Catherine really had no right judging anyone on the basis of suicide. He has worked many cases where the suicide victim had a rather disappointing reason, like a break up or a bad grade but to judge someone solely on what you see?
He shook his head at Catherine, "Don't judge her Catherine. We are not in her head." He stood up and collected his bagged evidence as he walked out of the room.
Catherine stood there perplexed and a little embarrassed. She really hadn't meant to upset him. She was just confused on why such a seemingly happy person, bitchy at times, but happy, could attempt something so serious as suicide.
She trudged out of the room to find Grissom looking at Sara's book shelf. He picked up an entomology book smiled and set it back.
"Gil what are we going to tell everyone?"
His shoulders stiffened but he turned around. "I don't know Cath… they will find out eventually but… let's try to keep this under wraps until I get the call that Sara is awake." He handed over his evidence and told her to keep this as quiet as possible, only have Greg print the glasses. "I am heading back to the hospital to wait for Sara to wake up, call me if you need me."
He was already on his way out the door as the words were said. He knew as his short drive to the hospital was coming to a closure that this would be a long and strenuous night. He wanted so bad to talk to Sara, to hear her side of the story and yet at the same time he wanted to ignore everything that is wrong. He wanted to put a band aid over it, but he knew the infection would continue to grow. No her whole life she has put a band aid on her emotions, and this was her breaking point.
He knew what needed to be done, but was he strong enough? He had to be, if Sara could stay this strong for so many years then he could be too. She has finally fallen and broke, so now he had to be her legs and mend her broken pieces.
Well what do you guys think? A bit morbid, but I have been watching season 4 and 5 lately and I can't help but feel what an ass Grissom is being towards Sara. I think with her past and then coming up to now Sara is probably feeling pretty low and sometimes when your buttons pop and your drinking alcohol and taking pills horrible things happen. So don't go anywhere guys keep reading! I promise it will get better, or perhaps cuter!