Disclaimer : I have an open mind, I can share.

Warning : Part one involves character death.

A/N : Much credit goes to Jessi for being kind enough to beta this story and give me some encouragement. Thank you!

Reverse

Part І

Ten minutes to eleven.
We should really go now. Can not hide from the inevitable any longer…

People will be waiting for us; his CSIs most of all.

But she is still in the bathroom, discreetly trying to wash off her sorrow.I don't have the heart to rush her. It was only yesterday they called us with the news.
"I'm sorry to inform you…"
An indifferent voice like the ones used in her work all the time. But it's different when it's about you…

If only I could stop those ruthless minute hands to give us more time…

I have to be the strong one today but I feel so tired... The feeling of gravity was never so intense.
It is almost unearthly, the emptiness inside me and now I know first-handed:
Losing a beloved person is unlike any other heartache…

Needing to put my hand down for leverage, I feel the pillow's moisture penetrating my skin. An unfamiliar bed, in a room like all motel rooms will ever be; cold and impersonal.

Covers lay twisted on each side, witnessing our last night's struggle.We couldn't sleep – how could we?
Just lay down here, side by side, seeking comfort in each other's warmth. Just holding hands.
More I was holding hers, she was unable to even move or say a word. A rolled up body in the corner, continuously shaking with sobs.

It's always been like that, for my mother and I, feelings are best kept inside and words sometimes come even harder.
I don't blame her; I'm not an open person myself - how could I be different from them?
But although love yous and hug yous may not have been a part of our everyday life, love was never doubted… always taken for granted.

I never doubted his love.
Even though he was hardly there. Not physically absent, but…more like a ghost.

I'll always have this image of him in my head; deep seated in his favorite armchair, in the dark-blue gown my mother gave him on his 50th birthday, one hand steadily holding some book, the other leaned toward his jaw, index leaving his lower lip only to turn around a page or readjust his eye-glasses.

I could never hold his attention when he was like that, no matter what childish trick I tried to pull.

And he was always buried in books - or another of his weird experiments... And those bugs…
How I hated them.
He loved to tease me about the day I freaked out trying to sneak in his office drawers.
Kept a safe distance ever since.

But those where happy times…

Our home was a welcoming shelter and both mom and dad tried hard not to bring their eerie jobs into our life.
It lasted for some time but not for ever like we then thought it would.

People can not change like that, not when they've spent almost 2/3 of their whole life on a single crusade; to know everything. To collect every single piece of evidence and wisdom in this world.

The first time, it was a tough case of some kid's rape and murder that kept him working in the lab, days and nights, long after everyone else had given up. Then it was a vain chase after a ring of pedophiles, which were rich and powerful enough to cover the whole thing.
And then always another case, another mystery…

She wasn't alarmed at first, she knew him so well, understood his obsessions, even shared them every now and then. Tried to be there for him, both as a colleague and a friend.
But as he slowly drifted away from her, from us, her bright smile started to fade.
And when there was nothing but a painful grin…we left.

I didn't see any of it back then of course.
I was just another miserable little girl who couldn't on earth understand why her mama and papa decided it was best to live apart from each other, why her little world just collapsed.
I couldn't see through to their pain...

And boy, did I give her a hard time the first months in San Francisco…
Nothing she did was good enough. Easy to blame her for everything I guess.
Still, there was only affection in her sad eyes.

"Someday you'll understand" she said.

And I did.

Time proved again to be a healer and we got back on track soon enough.
Women are strong creatures they say, and she is one of the strongest I know.

After a while we all got used to our new routine; He came to visit once or twice a month and I spent all of my holidays in Vegas.
He used to take me to baseball matches and theater openings and sometimes even convinced me to join him on his beloved rollercoaster rides. And when I managed to get into College, it was time for fancy restaurants and endless quarrels on which the greater philosopher ever was or what the boys really have on mind.
But my favorite moment together was each time we played our own game of Shakespeare quotes. It sort of became our little ritual, just before every good-bye.

- And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection…

- I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of

His heart was starting to fail him by then already but he kept it a secret from everyone. Always alone in pain, never wanted to be a burden to others
– or share with others?

No, he shared once. He loved, he tried. But he could not change who he was.

Actually, as I came to think it over so many times through recently, I wonder how the whole thing with them ever started.

In one of our rare moments of heart-to-heart conversation, she confessed that she loved him for a long time but in silence, for he was always too busy, too afraid, and too old. I couldn't get her to tell me the details but she implied enough for my youthful imagination to fill in the blanks of the first time they yielded to passion.
One night of mutual weakness, a drink maybe and suddenly her eyes spark like stars and his little scar on his left eyebrow becomes irresistible.
And then a hand moves too close, too fast for the mind to withdraw.

Once passion is released, it would take a heart of stone to break away. And he was human after all. And he loved her. Till the end, I could see his eyes grow darker whenever her name was mentioned.

He never married again of course. And neither did she.
I tried to talk her into it sometimes, for there were some lovers who seemed to care enough, but she wouldn't take a word. It was like she resolved to lock her heart and throw the key away.

Wasted life, I thought in my frivolous moments.

Damn me, I know better than that…

-

A ream of light is now coming through the Venetian blinds, crawling up to my toes. Another bright sunshine in Vegas. Sun can be so cruel sometimes.

And then the shaft of light is cut off by a shadow.
I turn my head just to see her standing there, leaned against the door frame, head tilted slightly – is this the way she appeared in his visions too?

Her figure is still a slender one; black clothes always did her a favor. She looks older today; face is pale, almost transparent, eyes red with puffed lids and no more tears to shed. Soulful eyes…
While mine are the cerulean blue shade of his and they did help me get a lot of the boy's attention, I (like all people who want what they don't have) always envied hers. Two little flames, now miles away…fighting to contain the pain.

And suddenly I envy him.
So lucky to have been loved so much. How could he just throw it away?

Maybe for some people happiness is more than they can take.

I have to put all of my effort to rise to my feet and reach closer, and at that moment I resolve to ask her more about him some day, and about their ardent love. Some day.

Part ІІ

Vivaldi's Four Seasons in my dream…and then echoing from the bedroom walls.
Comfortably familiar.

Every time the divine melody wakes me up, just before shift, I still feel some horror in the thought I once came too close to lose the pleasure of ever hearing anything again…

Any other day, it would help me collect my thoughts together, find my bearings again after a usually troubled sleep.

But something feels wrong today. Terribly wrong.

And then it all comes back to me like a flood tide; and along comes the pain.
She is gone. They are gone.
The two women of my life walked out the door last night to never come back.

Oh, God, I think I'll need you today… how ironic…

Shame …you can't start pitying yourself now. You knew very well it was going to end like this.

I can see the moment in playback again.
How long was it? 15 min… 15 hours?

She is standing in the doorway, leaned against the door frame as always, her shoulders more down than usual and eyes too.She starts talking in a low trembling voice but I can't hear a thing; my mind tries to follow my eyes from her to Juliet and back again.
My Julie…with her brown curls and her big blue eyes staring at me, not having a single clue of what is happening.
I used to smirk in irony when I heard about broken hearts until that very moment.
Oh, Julie, my lovely girl, I'm so sorry…

"Griss……GRISSOM!
..Ah…
There is no point in going over this again. We said everything there was to be said. We have to catch the plain.
And don't offer to take us there again. I've already called a taxi…."

Always my proud, independent woman.

"Ok, ok anything you want h…"

"And please call before you come to visit. It would be easier for us to arrange school and… everything"

"Sure…sure"

She holds my gaze just then and I can see the hope flickering in her eyes; will I say something, will I make a move?
The moment keeps lingering between us, a lifetime it seems, but I choose to ignore it and keep my poker face while I know very well that my whole existence is waiting for her…just one step and I'll fly…

Foolish, foolish old man.
You owe it to her to let her go. You know you can't give her anything, anymore.
Never could give much anyway. Not what she deserves.

A beautiful and intelligent woman; she can always find someone new... Someone better.
It is for the best. Really.

(Who was I kidding?)

-

The other half of the bed is empty now. And certainly neat. Not like every other day for the past eight years, when I wake up to find her entangled in the sheets like a Hedera Helix vine, her face buried in my armpit. Lips slightly open and her breathing brushing rhythmically at my sweated skin…
No, no don't start this.

She was not happy with me.
Maybe only for a while, the brief time I dared believe that changing myself was possible. But Lynn Hall was right…
"We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves."

Oh, why did she have to depend so much on me? On my emotions?
Could she not comprehend that I'm worthless for these kind of things?

Work was everything to me for such a long time and old habits die hard, harder than people…
Work is easy; it's all about evidence. I don't have to guess other people's feelings, in matter of fact corpses don't have any feelings, they are easy to handle.

And she was what I have always feared; an "all or nothing" woman. No compromises for my girl.
Somehow I convinced myself I could give her all because nothing was too damn painful.
But all cannot last long, and it's only less after.

Why did I let myself get into this in the first place?

-

I can make out the shape of her body on the bed, our bed, impressed on the mattress through the years; the beautiful body she gave to me openhanded.
A pack of bones my mother used to say; even pregnancy didn't make a difference for her.
I remember the day Julie was born…I was the happiest man on earth. Crime and injustice didn't exist for a few hours.And now… I must live alone with my daemons and this time knowing how much better sharing your life can be. How I wish I haven't known…and again how lucky to have known.

Did I kiss her goodbye? My mind is in such a haze... I don't remember having such a bad migraine before.
I'm sure I felt her palm on my cheek and Julie's little hand in mine…
… They will be fine together… They will…

It is better they left now when there is still some love in her eyes…
I can never bear to see hatred in them. Her anger is enough to turn me numb.

Oh, Sara, why did you have to go? And where did I find the courage to let you? Watching you pack your bags, not stopping you?

But I knew it was going to end like this. From the very day I quit resisting her.

(Summer - Presto)

"Alas, his worst fears were justified, as the heavens roar and great hailstones beat down upon the proudly standing corn".

Never before could I listen to the piece as far as that, for she would always stop the player and hum some vigorous tune of hers.

Funny how life can turn over on you; what irks you the most, becomes what you dearly miss…

Part ІІІ

No, it's not a dream this time; I can make out his frame in the semidarkness.

He's so still…lying naked on his back, hair all messed up and breath coming out unfailing and calm– wait …was that a light snoring sound?

One hand lies on his belly (I always surmised he had some extra pounds there but I'm surprised I don't find it repulsive at all, no… it's kinda cute actually), the other extended towards my side; it's odd to see it in rest like that…no tweezers, no gloves, only soft skin… I so longed to touch these fingertips…slowly, slowly; do not wake him up…

How I love this man…

-

I always told myself that if anything was ever going to happen between us it would be on a special occasion, something extraordinary for sure.
Well, I was wrong again. Always wrong when it comes to him…
I guess it's true what they say about things most likely to happen when you least anticipate them.

Nothing was different, just another routine day at work, overtime actually.

He was paged to go over to the desert, close to Laughlin, to give his expert opinion on the two decomps found there and suggested that I would go with him to help with notes.
I had nothing better to do that morning- just wrapped a case- plus I had the night off and didn't want to spend all day in the house. A little fresh air would be good…
All right, all right; and a little bit of Grissom would be good too. His preference to have me on his cases lately was flattering I had to admit.

No matter how many times I told myself I was over with unrequited feelings and futile dreams, deep inside me I knew it wasn't true. I would fall for him any day.
And it had to be a hot summer day in the Nevada Desert after all…

I must have forgotten how unbearable direct sunlight could get in this place; it has been a while since my last visit. Apparently it was a while for him too because I could see his sweat accumulating in droplets on his forehead.

We collected the samples soon enough (it's amazing how automaton like work can get after so many years, even when dealing with heavily decomposed dead bodies) but then he started walking away towards the nearby cliff. I could hear his heavy breath while struggling to climb up and I followed him, half fearing he would have a heart attack; half wondering what was on his mind.
But I have resolved by now that the best way to get my answer with this man is to keep my mouth shut…

- "In the desert a fountain is springing,
In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And a bird in the solitude singing,
Which speaks to my spirit of thee"

- Lord Byron?

He turned around for a moment and smiled but then fixed his gaze far and wide to the borders of dry land, focused on who knows what.

Intrigued and reaching closer, I stepped on the edge and sensed the shaky ground tumbling under my boots. But before I could slip much further his hand grabbed my waist holding me back steadily.
Felt dizzy all of a sudden; not sure if it was from the height or from his presence…

"Are you okay?"

He was too close now, dust all over his face and hair. I could touch him…
But I didn't. (Afraid of his reprimand or that he would respond? the air had a funny feeling today)

"Do you want to get some breakfast? I'm sure there is some place down the road."

Before I could say something he turned away and I followed him down to the Denali.

Sitting next to him on the car was always a blessing; his attention would stay fixed on the road ahead the whole time and I could steal some side glances. He would pretend he didn't notice and I would pretend I didn't care.

As I was staring at him this time, my eyes were caught by a small drop of sweat on his temple that he missed wiping off. A curl of grey hair was stuck next to it.
I don't know what has gotten into me but I felt an incredibly strong impulse to whisk it off and readjust his hair. Before the thought could be filtered in my head, my hand moved to consummate it. He must have been thinking the same because he removed one hand from the wheel to brush his face, but mine was quicker and he ended up touching my fingers instead.
Immediately he pulled away as if shocked and the car swerved for a second. But then he grabbed the wheel again and sped up. There was definitely a flush on his face….

Before I could line up all my guesswork on what he could be possibly thinking this time, the car was pulled over so suddenly my head almost bumped to the front window.

"What the…"

But oh, did he take the words right out of my mouth… grabbed my head with both hands and kissed me. A sweaty, wet kiss full of yearning - a minute that felt like eternity but still not long enough.

This time I could read his mind without a doubt. It was now or never.

"On a hot summer night would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?"

Not hesitating at all (where did all my resolutions to stay uninvolved go?), I jumped over him and responded to his kisses hungrily. It was obviousI could feel that he was ready for more right away; we both felt like teenagers again, but…obviously we weren't.

"There is a motel about a mile further I think" he tried to clear his throat and I nodded willingly sitting straight back to my seat.

I don't remember how we got there, or the name of the motel, totally zoned out like after one of my private drinking binges.
I only felt him leading me to the doorway, whispering something to the receptionist and dragging me up the stairs.

At last, the time has come. I wanted him for so long... (Really, I can't remember how it used to feel like before.)
So, why was I suddenly petrified?

Thank heaven all of his fear has given ground to arousal and he took me in his arms again and burned my face with his kisses. I don't remember us leaving each others lips even for a minute; he licked my sweat and I swallowed his moans. Clumsy, frenzy moves of two people who almost forgot how holding another body was, but still overwhelmed with passion…
And oh, the feeling of him inside me finally, unbound; I grasped at his shoulders almost roughly and wouldn't let him go, not this time; and he didn't resist it, not this time.
I wanted to shout "I love you" desperately but managed to hold it inside. No need to scare him…

-

My lustful thoughts are suddenly interrupted by his sudden move, rising from the bed, and I half close my eyes at once, pretending to be asleep.

Keeping sight of him next to the window watching at infinity and leaning against his elbow on the wall with a deep sigh, I can't help a thought from creeping into my mind; Gil Grissom has already lived his life, maybe on his own private way but with no doubt a fair share of happiness and grief.

What was I expecting from him?

But logic can't keep me any longer…This night is my only hope and I will hang on to it.

When he comes back to bed I already feel the tears filling my eyes, fearing for the worst.
But then he only comes closer; grabs my waist and turns me over to enclose me in his lap. Burying his head in my neck, he breaths deeply…

"I'm right beside you Sara."

I can do nothing more than tighten on his embrace and close my eyes to worship the moment…

"It is done. We cannot go back…um…..I don't want to go back.
But what about you? You know me…are you sure you want this?"

His question is hanging over darkness and his squeezing reveals his anxiety.

Is he thinking that I'm having second thoughts?

Turning my head around, almost too vigorously, I kiss his earlobe and blurt whispering what's been eating me for a long time:

"I'm sure I love you… and I'll take anything you can give"

Feeling unsettled as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I press myself tighter on him, hoping to chase the doubts away.

Will anything be enough, no matter how little? But something is always better than nothing…this can never be wrong…

As if able to read my thoughts, he whispers another of his never ending quotes:

- "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

- "Or never to have lost at all."

---THE END---