Title: To the Ends of the Earth
Author: junglemag
Rating: PG, maybe mild language in future chapters
Pairing: Grissom/Sara
Spoilers: Up to and Including Season 7.
Author's Note: This is an AU, WIP fic I've been tossing around my puny brain. Mind you, it includes a character death although it doesn't deal exclusively with it. Thanks to GeekLoveOhOne and CSIdleGSR for the betas!
She wanted to name you Sadie. I informed her that it was a dog's name, and no child as beautiful as her (which I was sure you would be) should be given the name of an animal. I wanted to name you Ophelia, which is, despite the character, a beautiful name. We compromised at Abigail. She loved it because it means "her father's joy" in Hebrew, and I favored it because the Biblical Abigail was a strong woman, a woman ahead of her time.
Now when I look at you, I think you could be named Mud and it would seem like the most gorgeous name in the universe. I hope some day, Abigail, that I can convey how much your mother loved you for the brief period she knew you. I might cry a little, laugh a little, but we'll get through it together. We're a team, kiddo; you and me against the world.
She loved you so much Abigail. Abby. She called you Abby. She was certain from the moment we found out she was pregnant that you were a girl. She didn't even need to see the sonogram. She wanted you to have everything she didn't, baby, and I'm going to make sure it happens.
Her hair. Your mother's hair smelled like apples and cotton and vanilla. Sometimes when I roll over in bed, I can still smell her hair on her pillow. She slept on the right side of the bed, curled up, but she let her feet move up and down my legs when I held her. She used to tell me that she loved to feel my heart beat against her back.
I think you're going to have her hands. Her fingers went on forever it seemed, so long and slender. When I close my eyes, I feel them gliding over me. You'd love her touch Abby. So gentle, so soft, so caring. She didn't know it, but she was meant to be a mother. She was meant to be the mother of my child. You. She was meant to be your mother.
I'm so glad she got to see you, to hold you, cuddle you, kiss you. She shouldn't have gone back to work. I should have made her stay home, forced her to lie around the house in sweatpants, watching daytime television and loving you. She shouldn't have been near that place. She should have known that a rookie couldn't secure a scene.
She would still be here, Abby. She would be here to hold you, to see you laugh. Catherine wouldn't be coming over every morning with mascara running down her face, making sure I can warm a bottle. Nick wouldn't be bringing me Chinese food, holding you and sobbing. Warrick would be able to look me in the eye. And Greg. I think he's lost 20 pounds off that lanky frame since she's been gone.
Every time I turn around she's there, when I close my eyes, she's there, when I open them, she's there, watching me. She used to stand in the doorway, lean against the frame. I look up all the time expecting to see her. I long to re-say everything I've said, re-do everything I've done in order to change this, bring her back. But I have you now. I guess that's my reward. God, Allah, whoever's in charge up there, decided this was a fair trade. If I can't have my Sara, I can have a perfect mix of her and me. I sowed all those seeds, rejecting her, ignoring her. It's time to reap them. But, living without her doesn't seem even, does it Abigail?