Gil,
You know I love you. I feel like I've loved you forever. Lately, I haven't been feeling very well. I'm tired. In the desert, under that car that night, I realized something and I haven't been able to shake it. Since my father died, I spent almost my entire life with ghosts. We've been like close friends and there in the desert it occurred to me that it was time to bury them. I can't do that here. I'm so sorry. No matter how hard I try to fight it off, I'm left with the feeling that I have to go. I have no idea where I'm going but I know I have to do this. If I don't, I'm afraid I'll self-destruct and worse, you'll be there to see it happen. Be safe. Know that I tried very hard to stay. Know that you're my one and only. I will miss you with every beat of my heart. Our life together was the only home I've ever really had. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love you. I always will.
Goodbye.
She stood, dress bustling in the breeze, hair flying about her head, staring at the ground. TAPS played, the 21-gun salute shook her to her core but still she wasn't able to move.
She saw him across the lawn from her, black suit and sunglasses, shielding him from the sun, head staring at the ground, Catherine's arm slipped through his and she felt a sudden pang of jealousy.
She saw them all, silently grieving, silently mourning the loss of one of their own…Warrick Brown.
Not for the first time, she felt alone, like an outsider. She'd been brought in to spy on CSI Brown 8 years ago and now standing here, felt like she was spying once again.
She gulped and exhaled sharply, wiping tears from her cheek. She walked forward and approached the small group.
"Hi." She said to Greg Sanders, who turned his head casually to look at her.
His hair was tame and plastered to his face. His eyes, red rimmed from crying, turned from confusion to relief as he wrapped her in his arms. She touched the small scar on his cheek and offered a slight smile. He smirked and squeezed her hand.
"I knew it was you."
"I know, the Sidle scent."
He scoffed. "Welcome home, Sidle."
She hugged him as he turned his attention back to the coffin.
Lined with roses, Warrick's final resting place was a simple box of wood and Sara found herself thinking of her own mortality. She watched as Grissom carried the folded flag over to an elderly woman and kneeled before her, squeezing her shoulder as she sobbed.
Nick sauntered over to the duo and placed his hand on Sara's shoulder.
"Sidle," he tried to sound excited to see her but she knew.
In different circumstances…
She put her hand on his and hugged him close.
"He knew you loved him," she offered and felt him tighten against her.
She kissed Nick's tear stained cheek and huddled in his arms a moment longer, then she grabbed his face forcing him to stare her in the eye.
"I know you. This is not your fault."
Nick nods.
"I know."
He squeezed her one more time and then slowly walked over to the coffin, gently running his hand over it, remembering Warrick's face as he was buried alive.
He sighed and hung his head. "I'm sorry man. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."
He turned to her and smiled, but Sara saw the pain behind the mask.
During the ceremony, Grissom only looked over at her once, as he helped the same elderly lady into a car. As he slid her in he glanced up, and nodded before disappearing inside, beside her. Catherine was close to follow.
The wake was a small gathering, nothing like what she'd seen graveside. Grissom stood in a corner of the room, flanked by Warrick's small nieces whom he was showing the quarter behind the ear trick.
As the children giggled she took a step toward him only to be stopped by Catherine gently patting her shoulder.
"Hi."
She turned to see the blond in a modest black dress, her hair flowing shoulder length and two glasses of wine in her hands.
She offered it to Sara who thanked her.
"I'm sorry, Cath. I know you two were really close."
"Yeah," she muttered, lip twitching, eyes distant, Sara knew she'd struck a chord.
"He was a great guy," her gaze switched to Grissom and Sara followed her gaze.
Gil now stood alone, gazing out the window lost in his own world.
"He missed you." Catherine's voice brought her back to earth.
Sara sighed and glanced at the ground.
"We all did."
Sara smiled, half-heartedly.
Catherine walked over to Gil, leaving Sara alone again. Sara glanced over as she finished her glass of wine and was surprised to see him staring at her. He must've been stunned as well because he immediately engaged himself in conversation, again.
Grissom walked down the hall toward his office, rifling through a folder of paperwork he had yet to look at since the funeral, when a familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks. He tried to ignore her but its soothing tone had always had an effect on him.
"Griss." A little louder, the annoyance slowly seeps into her voice.
"I don't even have to turn around, Sara Sidle," he said, wincing at the words. His hands shook as he slowly turned to face his ex-fiancée.
"It's me," she said shyly.
He smirked, remembering the dummies flying from the roof and her, standing behind him, just like now…he bashfully turned away.
"We need to talk. Er, I owe you an apology."
Grissom said nothing, glancing around the lab and the floor, suddenly interested in its texture.
"Five minutes?" She asked.
He stared at his watch as his heart pumped feverishly in his chest. The words were out before he could stop them.
"Conference room." He said hastily, chiding himself for even giving her that much. Without another word he continued on his way to his office.
His heart beat hard in his chest, his hands shaking as he turned the knob to the conference room and gazed at her, sitting in a chair.
She was playing with her fingers, her knee bouncing up and down. Two things Grissom always found so alluring and now couldn't bear to watch. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat.
She looked up at him, tears staining her face and tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear.
He swallowed, hard in the uncomfortable silence and shifted his weight again, tapping his own fingers together.
"Gil, I'm sorry…."
All the hurt and anger, showed on his face, as he glared at her. His piercing eyes seemed to accuse and beg at the same time. Not for the first time, she wondered if she could go through with it. The one man she had never meant to cause so much pain, she had completely shattered.
He took a step toward the table and ran his hand over the back of a chair, obviously looking for something else to glare at.
"You look good," he squeaked, grimacing at the failed attempt to change the subject.
"You're letting your beard grow back," she smiled, her smile flattening on her face. "I came to apologize."
He scoffed. A sound he didn't mean to let escape but said so much.
"I know you're hurt."
He sat, not taking his eyes off of his own hands.
"I know you probably despise me and I can't find one good reason for you not to."
Silence.
"But I also know I need to tell you none of this was to intentionally hurt you. You are the love of my life and I know that."
He scratched his head and bit his lip, momentarily gazing up at her, then back down at his hands.
"I had to go."
She sighed.
"I had to get rid of the demons that were haunting me every day of my life. To try to forgive my mother … to forgive what she did."
Tears began to sting her eyes and she wiped them away, again bouncing her knee.
For the first time, he held her gaze, anger momentarily subsided.
The cold blue steel of his eyes met her warm dark ones and he pursed his lips. He said nothing, she said nothing. They only stared at each other for a moment.
"I needed to put the past behind me so I could--So we could – make a future."
She reached toward him, to touch his arm, to make contact, anything to hold out hope she had chinked his defensive armor.
He pulled away, as if she had scalded him.
Grissom let out a brief sigh. He looked at her a moment longer and shook his head.
"What do you expect me to say, Sara?" His voice was hoarse and rough to her ears, dripping with anger.
"I'm just supposed to be happy you're home?" Sarcasm dripped from his lips. The question dangled in the air between them momentarily. Inwardly, she screamed yes but outwardly she could only fumble for words.
"All this while I'm burying a friend?" He spat the words out with such anger she realized just how deep she'd scarred him. His hands shook as he tried desperately to stop them, wringing them as he had when the blood was washing off…Warrick's blood.
"I understand how you must feel."
He cocked his head and furrowed his brow. "You can't possibly know how I'm feeling." He said and stood.
"He was my friend too!" She screamed standing herself, the chair teetered a moment and remained standing.
His eyes seethed with hatred as he glowered at her, but his words although biting were shockingly patient and calculated.
"For six months I waited for you to come home. I glared at my phone willing it to ring, trying to tell myself no one says yes to a marriage proposal and leaves without ANY EXPLANATION! No one is SELFISH ENOUGH TO DRAG THE MAN THEY CLAIM TO LOVE THROUGH THE DEPTHS OF HELL WITHOUT AN EXCUSE!"
Spittle sprang from his lips, as his mouth frothed with words unspoken. The silence surrounding the two is deafening.
She looked at him and saw the raw pain on his face. How he must've suffered, even before her departure. As she lied pinned under a car in the desert this man was drowning himself. Drowning in hopelessness and the fear of never saying good-bye.
"Everyone tried to tell me to move on, but you know what? I couldn't give you up. I thought, not my Sara. Not my Sara who came up to me in San Francisco and asked to go for coffee." He swallows again and pauses, holding a fist up to his mouth.
He started again, slower and quieter.
"I know I've taken you for granted. I know there were times when you wanted to give up on me…"
"But I also know YOU didn't stay around to find out what the cocoon would've revealed. You didn't trust me enough to allow me in to help you."
The anger turned to hurt and Sara saw something else as he continued the pale glimpse of unrelenting love.
"When I asked you to be my wife, I knew I'd never feel the way I did for you, again. I knew there'd be no more secrets between us, and when…you left," he paused, swallowing hard, his eyes turning a deep shade of blue, he shook his head and composed himself.
"You left me with a note and a pathetic look on my face. My Sara…." His voice trailed off again as he quickly wiped his eye. He cleared his throat and the anger returns.
"So no, Ms. Sidle, you don't know how I feel…. And if the past six months have taught me anything it's that you probably never will."
She sighed, wincing at the pain in her professional name. She put a stray strand of hair behind her ear again and nodded, knowingly. She looked away from him, resting her head in her hands, trying to compose herself. She nibbled her tongue to keep from sobbing but as the door clicked shut, signaling Grissom's departure, the tears poured down her face, wetting her shirt.
Sara tore down the hallway toward the front door, almost knocking Catherine over on her way out. The older blonde grabbed her, spinning her around.
"Sara?"
Catherine cocked an eyebrow, folding her arms in front of her. Sara tried her best to smile and failed miserably. Tears still stained her cheeks.
"Come with me?"
Sara resigned herself and followed Catherine back to her office.
"Everything alright?"
She glanced around the darkened closet and smiled at all the ducks around.
"I ended up thinking the motif was cute."
"Couldn't find anything to do with all of it?"
"Precisely."
Sara nodded.
"So-"
"So."
Both women avoid eye contact in the awkward silence. A knock on the door shattered the moment.
"Hey Cath. I have the lab results –"
"Sara?"
Hodges gazed down at Sara from his position in the doorway. A big smile crossed his face. She tried her best to return the grin, again failing. She rose and hugged him.
"Where have you-? Why?
"Would you accept, in Hollywood dancing with a singing monkey?"
He shook his head and waved a finger at her.
"No, me either."
"Does Grissom know you're here? I assume you heard about Warrick. Terrible tragedy…but the show must-"
She gazed at the floor, shuffling her feet. The mere mention of his name halted all conversation.
Hodges realized, again too late, he'd stepped over the line and he cleared his throat in the silence.
"Look at the time." Sara said, racing out the door.
"Wow, that was awkward." Hodges furrowed his brow, handing Catherine the folder he had entered with.
"Yeah, especially since she wasn't wearing a watch." She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. Hodges stood in her doorway, looking out at Grissom's office.
Gil sat stoically behind his desk, staring out into the hallway. Hodges could've sworn he was crying.
Sara sat in her car for an hour, across the street from PD, gazing at the building she once called home. She watched her friends come and go, busy with another dead body to process and a crime scene to scour. She glanced at Warrick's vacant spot and sighed.
"Life goes on," she muttered, placing her sunglasses on her head and driving off. At that moment she had no idea of where to go or how to get there.
"You are a boob."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"I can't believe you didn't beg her back."
"Not now Catherine, I just buried-"
"We all lost him Grissom. Not just you, but she…you're a boob."
He furrowed his brow and pointed at the door with a pen.
Catherine stood her ground.
"She did what she thought she needed to have you in her future. What are you going to do with the rest of your life, Huh? Sit here in this office with your dead pigs and rookie blood and rot? That woman loves you and you're so blinded by your hurt pride you can't see the forest for the trees!"
"What about 6 months of a telephone call here and there, hoping against hope she'd come home…listening to you and your "fishing off the company pier!"
"Oh come on. We all know I'm full of it."
Realization dawned and Grissom inhaled sharply.
"You and Warrick?
Catherine smirked. "May he rest in peace."
He shook his head, burying himself in the paperwork in front of him.
Catherine, angered he was blowing her off, ripped the folder from his hands, causing a fairly big paper cut.
"Damn it Catherine." He said, hurt, instinctively putting the injured finger in his mouth.
He looked through his drawer for his first aid kit.
"Listen to me!"
"You have my full attention now that you severed my finger."
He angrily pulled open a drawer and set a small yellow kit on his desk, being careful to hold the injured finger away from the rest.
"Don't be a baby."
He poured a bit of Bactine over it, wincing as blood dripped into the trash can and daintily put a Band-Aid on top.
You were saying?" Frustrated, he turned his attention back to Catherine.
"Think before you act Gil. That's all. Think before you act." With that the blonde gave the folder back to Grissom and sauntered out of the office.
"Would anyone else like to weigh in on my personal life?"
All eyes turned toward the tall, grizzled man who stood arms out in the hallway.
"Now's your chance," he said in the stillness.
Hodges slowly raised his hand, as did Wendy, both got a glaring eye for their troubles.
"I thought we solved crimes in here…my mistake."
He took a step toward his office, staring at the sign on his desk.
"Yep, still says Supervisor…NOT SOAP STAR!"
He slammed the door shut as Greg and Catherine glance at each other shaking their heads.
Catherine shrugged, "He's angry because he knows I'm right."
Gil reached for the jar of chocolate covered grasshoppers and greedily popped one into his mouth. As he slowly chewed he stared around his office and realized just how dead to the world he'd become.
Two evenings later Grissom headed out to the parking lot, rechecking his cell phone to see if maybe she'd tried one more time. The day's events replaying through his head. He should be happy. They'd caught the Under-sheriff for killing Warrick. He'd held his restraint until the end…wanting so badly to punch him in the face.
Now he wished like hell she were here…celebrating with them. The cold air blew through his beard as he reached for his car door.
A distant shadow approached him.
As the figure drew near he could make out the soft brown hair and the charming gap between her teeth as she squinted in the evening sun.
He swallowed, exhaling sharply.
"Don't say anything." She warned him closing the gap between them. "I've come with an ultimatum. If you say so I'll go. You'll never see me again, I promise. I want you to be happy and if it's not with me well…we'll always have Vegas."
She glanced at the building for a moment and turned back, tears welling in her eyes, smiling at the butchering of a famous line.
His face softened and he smirked.
"I have to know, Gil. If there's any fiber of your being that thinks we could possibly be good for one another…." Her voice strains to hide her emotions. "… if you think the ship has sailed…tell me now, either way…I meant what I said…I love-."
Her lip quivered as she placed her hands on her hips and glanced at the ground. She bit at it nervously and watched as two small tears splashed on the pavement.
"Sara-" he said quietly, just above a whisper, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
She looked up and saw him remove his sunglasses, tears in his eyes about to spill over. He didn't say a word, just spread his arms, inviting her in. She saw his fingers bend once, twice beckoning her towards him.
She closed the gap between them and pulled his body hard against her, breathing in his scent.
He sighed, stoically hugging her, running his hand over her back.
"G-d Sara, I have so many unanswered whys."
She smiled and squeezed him harder.
"For now just know you caught the bad guy and no matter what else happened you couldn't save him. You can't save everyone Gil. Warrick understands that, wherever he is."
"You saved me," he squeaked before the tears dripped down his cheeks and she held him, crying in the parking lot.
When his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees, sobbing into Sara's shoulder the doors opened and Greg, Catherine and Nick, ran over to him, knelt beside him and held him, as a family grieving over a lost son.
Finis.