What I Need to Do
He played the video again. One more time and another time after that; but it still didn't make the words feel any better or the search for any unspoken signs any easier.
You don't need to worry about me…there's a biologist who reminds me of you…I'm fine.
You don't need to worry about me.
But he did. He worried a lot…he worried that he might not ever see him again and that was simply unacceptable to him. However, he didn't have a lot of options at the moment.
Grissom finally exited out of the email and shut down his computer. Slowly he shut the cover to the laptop and put it in his bag. The glasses on his face were too heavy to wear anymore so he laid them on his desk and rubbed his hands over his face. Leaning back in his chair he surveyed the office before him. Once it was his sanctuary—the monument of his life work and dedication to forensics, but lately it felt more like a prison. Even his prized pickled specimens or the fetal pig no longer stirred pride or curiosity in him. That was dangerous.
Quickly, he grabbed his bag and bolted out of his office and out to his car in the back parking lot. He sat down in the front seat and let the air condition sweep over him. The sweet concoction of stifling Vegas heat combined with the cool musty air made him relax enough to put the car in gear and start driving.
He didn't have any plans for tonight. Didn't want to cook, research, or read so perhaps he would order out from his favorite Chinese restaurant and watch To Kill A Mockingbird, The Blob, 1776 the musical or whatever was on the classic movie channel. For some reason the smoothness of the car, the steadiness of his hands on the steering wheel, and the relaxed state he seemed to find himself just made him want to drive.
"I need to drive a little while longer" He thought to himself absentmindedly.
Sara.
She would love this. Many times after a long and tiring day or sometimes just for the fun of it they would pick a road and follow it for about an hour just to drive together. A time for them to talk, laugh, even listen to the Led Zepplin compilation he made for her, which she jokingly made fun of him that she was now even more of a fan that he was after the comment he made during the Minature Killer case.
He convinced himself it was the right thing to do. Let her move on without him. She was clearly ready for life beyond the Las Vegas Crime Lab and for all practical reasons he was too. But every time they discussed it something just held him back. To what? He didn't know. He remembered clearly lying on their bed together with his head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. He didn't want to answer the phone because he knew it was from the crime lab, something that would tear time away from just lying there with Sara. She suggested they take a vacation to get away for awhile. Before he realized what he was saying he gently blurted that the lab needed him. The lab needed him? Maybe she could stay, but deep down he knew that she had taken that initial step of going beyond the confines of Nevada and wasn't likely to go backwards so quickly.
What about what he needed? He needed to go home and scrawl his name upon every single piece of paper that the department wanted of him.
Instead he kept driving on, and on, and on.
What he needed. Grissom had not really thought of what he truly needed in a long time. A couple of things crossed his mind but the one word that kept floating around in the air was: Sara. He needed her.
He needed to turn the car around, board the first flight to Costa Rica, throw his arms around her, and tell her how much he needed her in his life. That he was going to come to her this time. He could see her sporting some kind of jungle fatigues and taking pictures of some monkey or perhaps a habitat down by a stream. It would only be too easy to start up again with her because even after she left to find herself a year before, when she came back it was as if they had never parted. That was the nature of their relationship. They were so good together that it didn't matter how long they had been separated. As soon as they would reach each other's arms, the time in reality had never passed and they would pick up where they left off.
What was holding him back? The lab? Catherine, Jim, Nick, Greg…even Hodges? They needed each other. But perhaps his part in their daily lives had come to an end. Certainly he had mentored each of them to where they were certainly top level CSI's without him watching patiently from the corner.
He needed to let them go. But instead he just drove on, and on, and on.
He had already let a few people go that should not have left. Warrick. His time had come too early. Too cruelly for a proper goodbye. It was true what he said at the funeral…he would miss him so much. Thought of the young, determined, and, at times, troubled young man as his son. Would give him praise and mentoring for the times when he prevailed above his troubles but scolded and berated him when he had failed to perform at adequate standards in both his work and personal life. Maybe that's what was holding him back at the lab: a deep need to deal with Warrick's death and continue his work. But he no longer needed to do that. It was done.
It was done. His work is done. The people no longer needed his supervision and his personal relationships were now outside the lab. Perhaps it was time to follow them. He needed to follow Sara outside of Vegas, and if need be, outside of the United States. That's what he needed to it.
And he would…right now.
It was no longer a need, but a must. He had to go to Sara.
Quickly, he jerked the car around in a u-turn and speeded back to his apartment.
He was going after Sara. That's what he needed to do…and exactly what he did.