Greg/Sara angst; character death.
A/N: Annoyingly I was typing this story in the editor here, and it decided that I had the screen open too long or something, so I lost part of the story and had to rewrite it, so in my opinion the second paragraph isn't as good as it had been, but is as good as I can make it. I've just wanted to write a one-shot tragedy for awhile, and my other ideas weren't working, but this one finally did. While I'm not satisfied with some of it, I believe that it's good enough to publish.
Edit: I found when reading this that I copied two paragraphs twice, so I deleted the repeated ones. (sorry) I've also edited grammer issues.
Crimson and Starlight
Breathe
Warm tears formed and fell in slow, steady rivulets down her face. Closing her eyes to block out the world only brought back the image of his still form, and the tears would flow faster than before. Slow, jagged breaths were the only way she remained calm, the only way she stayed sane.
Remember
They had been walking along the sidewalk when it happened. They had been spending time together, walking to stores, restaurants, and parks. They would be together when they had the time, which they would always make if it were possible. They would laugh, and flirt, and talk. She enjoyed his company and he enjoyed hers. He was in love, but she wasn't certain what she felt. He said that he cared for her; at first she only smiled, but eventually she told him that she cared for him as well.
He wanted more, that much she knew. She could tell from the sadness in his eyes when she said that she was uncertain of how she felt. She could see that he was in love with her, that the reason why he wanted to spend so much time with her was because he loved her. Yet she could never admit to herself that she loved him too, not until that day.
They were walking side by side, his hand wanting to grasp hers, but afraid that she would pull away. He was willing to wait for her to make the first moves, willing to hold back his feelings even though it hurt. He wanted more though, he wanted her to be more than just his friend; he was convinced that she was the woman he would marry someday. Slowly his hand moved to hers and she grasped it tightly. He looked to her and she smiled warmly; it seemed to be the beginning of something for them, she was finally ready to open up to him. Fate however is not fond of lovers, and at that moment, a car drove by and a man inside shot at the people on the sidewalk.
He fell to the ground, causing her to tumble with him. Crimson stains were on his shirt and the sidewalk. Screams of terror and cries of help were all around, but Sara didn't hear them because all that she could comprehend was Greg.
Pulse
"I love you," he said through ragged breaths, knowing there was no hope.
"Greg," she choked out, caressing his face and pressing one of his wounds.
She saw only him; she heard only him. She didn't know that the police had been notified, couldn't hear the sirens as they approached, or even see the seven others who had been shot. She heard his breaths and her breaths. She felt her blood rushing, saw his blood flowing on her hands and onto her clothes. She saw his face growing pale and his eyes losing their luster.
"Greg, Greg you have to stay with me," she pleaded as she cradled his head on her lap.
His eyes fluttered, and he smiled weakly. "I'm leaving," he whispered.
"No," she cried. "You can't, I… I love you, you can't."
His smile broadened, if only for a moment, and then a tear escaped from his eye. "I know. I only wish…" He coughed, and crimson was on his lips. "We would have been happy," he whispered.
A sob caught in her throat, and she couldn't say anything more. She did her best to try to support him, to try to keep him alive, but nothing could stop the flow of his blood. When the paramedics arrived, Greg was dead, and Sara was in shock.
Speak
His blood was drying on her shirt, slacks, and body when she and the other witnesses were asked about what had happened. Their friends tried to support her, but they didn't know the depth to which she was hurt. Her statement came slowly, but there wasn't much she remembered. As she spoke to Catherine and Nick, they realized how deep the connection between Greg and Sara had been. For the rest of the team tears came quickly, but for Sara tears didn't come for some time.
Cry
The next week was his funeral, at least in Las Vegas. Greg's parents were going to have his body buried in California, close to where they lived. It was after his funeral, when his casket was taken away to where he would be buried that she cried. His parents had given all of them the address for the cemetery in case any of them ever wanted to visit him. His parents were distraught; their only child was dead. However, no one knew the tearing pain in Sara's heart. No one knew the guilt she felt about not saying she loved him until moments before he died, and the guilt of surviving while so many others died around her.
Warm tears formed and fell in slow, steady rivulets down her face. Closing her eyes to block out the world only brought back the image of his still form, and the tears would flow faster than before. Slow, jagged breaths were the only way she remained calm, the only way she stayed sane. Yet even as she tried to remain calm, she looked around her room and saw images of him, remembered the times they had spent together, and saw trinkets that he had given her. Falling onto her bed, she sobbed until she fell into an uneasy sleep.
Try
Her friends were supportive, and they tried to help each other through the pain of losing Greg. The shooter was caught and put on trial for the deaths of Greg and the five others who had been killed that day. Sara however, couldn't fully move on. She tried, and she went with her friends when they asked her if she wanted to do something. Yet inside, Sara was still broken, even though on the outside she appeared to be a little better.
She had nightmares about that day and sometimes saw the crimson stains on her hands and clothes. She had gotten rid of the clothing that she had been wearing that day; it had been ruined. Throwing herself into as many cases as possible to avoid the pain of Greg's death, she became worn down and exhausted. After breaking down in tears at the scene of another drive-by shooting, she was forced to take time off.
Escape
California had been her childhood home; it had also been the home of Greg and Grissom as they grew up. Sara had no love of the state; it only reminded her of the pain that had been her childhood home. California was also the only other place where she had seen someone die before her eyes. Yet it was to California that Sara drove when she was told to take a break.
She parked her car on a cliff overlooking the sea, and then got out of the car and sat on the ground with her legs hanging over the edge of the cliff. It was a warm summer evening, and the only sounds were the sea and the crickets. The last streaks of scarlet and sienna were melting into a velvety indigo-black color, and the stars were becoming visible.
She breathed deeply, feeling the thick salt air filling her lungs. She moved her hands along the coarse dirt and pebbles on the ground. Touching, feeling, breathing, smelling, tasting, and finally as she opened her eyes, seeing the world. The moon, though it was only a sliver, reflected on the ocean. There were no city lights to dim the beauty of the stars, the potentials of a million undiscovered suns.
"You would have loved this," she whispered into the night. "I wish I had told you sooner. I think that things would have been different if I had said that I love you before that horrible day." A sob escaped from her throat, and a cold tear fell down her cheek. "I keep trying to move forward, but I'm still stuck in that moment of sickening horror, and I can't break free. You would want me to be happy. All you ever tried to do from the moment we met was make me smile. You gave me compliments and tried to cheer me up when I felt like no one else cared. Now you're gone, and I… I can't live without you. I keep trying and trying, but it's not working. Your killer is in custody, awaiting trial. You're buried in this state near where your parents live. They're wonderful people, you were lucky to have them as parents, and they were lucky to have you as their son. We were all lucky to have you."
She laughed sadly. "And out of everyone, you chose me to love and me to care about. I never had luck. My family was horrible, my relationships were horrible, and my attitude was probably the worst of all. But in spite of all those things you loved me. I wouldn't even tell you how much I loved you too, how much I wanted to hold you, and kiss you, and be loved by you. Why was I so stubborn when you were so kind?"
She buried her face in her hands and sobbed for a long time before she said anything again. "I can't even do my job anymore because I see you at every scene. I can't drive or walk around town without remembering something we did together. I can't sleep because I see everything that happened that afternoon. How can I be happy again when the only times I've been happy in a very long time were when I was with you?"
She released another sob, and laid her head on the ground. Far above her, the stars sparkled in the inky blackness of the night, while warm sea breezes caressed her skin. Far below her the sea waves crashed, creating a soothing rhythm for her broken spirit. As she lay there, she allowed her mind to drift into her memories.
Recall
Sara had been having a bad day. Her car had broken down, she had a cold, and it was hailing outside, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that she was about five miles from home and her cell phone battery had just died. On top of all those things, she had collected evidence from two very gruesome scenes that day, and had PMS. She turned on the four-ways and hoped that the hail would stop soon, or that the car would just start working again, but she knew that probably wouldn't happen.
A few minutes later, a car pulled up behind her and someone got out to see if she needed help. She didn't know who it was until she rolled down the window and saw Greg standing outside her window being pelted by the falling ice. She had never been happier in her life. He took her home and spent the morning helping her to get her car to a repair shop. When she told him everything that went wrong that day he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly.
"It'll be all right," he murmured to her. "Not every day can suck this badly." She laughed and extricated herself from his embrace. "Thanks," she said.
He smiled back at her. "I'll always be here for you, whenever you need me. Just don't give up ok?" She agreed.
Live
Sara's eyes fluttered open when she recalled that day. She stood up stiffly, and brushed the dust and pebbles off her back. Stretching out her body, she leaned against her car. She looked to the horizon, at the stars and waves, and whispered fiercely, "I won't give up. I'll keep that promise to you. I'll face what has happened and grow through the pain. I'll live and I won't give up."
Tears welled in her eyes, and even though the pain of his loss still throbbed in her chest, she would face whatever came. She gave one last look at the nighttime scenery before getting into her car. Before leaving, she spoke one final time into the night.
"I love you Greg."
The End
