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'I close me eyes, then I drift away, into the magic night. I softly say, a silent prayer, like dreamers do. Then I fall asleep to dream, my dreams of you.' Roy Orbison was singing on the radio as Grissom pulled into the garage of his townhouse. He switched off the ignition and slowly got out of the car. He was tired. He was always tired now, since she'd left.
Walking into the townhouse he noticed it was cold. It was always cold now. And quiet. And empty. So empty, since she'd left.
He used to love coming home after work. They'd had so much fun, before.
When she had left he had tried to immerse himself in his work. It was his life before her, now it was nothing but a way to pass the time. He had hoped it would help him forget. It hadn't. He was so used to her being there, that it was empty now without her.
Grissom took off his coat and shoes and left them by the door. He dropped his keys and briefcase in the kitchen by the phone. No messages on the machine, as usual.
He walked slowly down the hall, thinking about the song that had been on the radio. 'In dreams, I walk with you. In dreams, I talk to you. In dreams you're mine. All the time we're together, in dreams, in dreams.' It was a good song.
Grissom dropped his clothes in the laundry hamper and walked onto the master bath to turn on the shower. He looked at himself in the mirror while he waited for the shower to warm up. He looked old. It was as if he had aged ten years since she'd left. He stepped into the shower.
'But just before the dawn, I awake and find you gone. I can't help it; I can't help it, if I cry. I remember that you said goodbye.' Grissom stood under the water. He didn't even notice the tears mingling with the water. Taking a deep breath he reached for her shower gel. Squeezing just a few drops into his palm, he returned the bottle to the shelf. It was as if she were there. He could feel a twitch of arousal, just because the smell reminded him of her. Before she was his, he'd often pleasured himself in the shower before work. He'd needed the relief so he could concentrate while she was near. Now there was no relief. She was gone. He rubbed the gel into his beard so he could smell her later, too. He'd grown the beard after she was gone for a month. He had no reason to shave. She was gone.
Grissom turned off the shower and reached for a towel. After drying off he donned an old tee shirt and boxers and headed to the bedroom.
He still slept on his side of the bed. And he spent more and more time there now. He knew he should be concerned about sleep becoming his escape. It was a sure sign of depression, but he was depressed. How could he not be? She was gone.
Grissom turned off the bedside lamp and crawled under the covers. He took a deep breath so he could smell her shower gel. He smiled.
'It's too bad that all these things, can only happen in my dreams. Only in dreams, in beautiful dreams.' As Grissom closed his eyes she was there, waiting. He always dreamt of Sara. In his dreams she'd never left.
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