You Would Hold My Hand

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing them.

Spoilers: Slight mention of Dead Doll; not a big thing, just a small sentence.

Summary: You held my hand.

A/N: The mistakes are mine...hopefully there aren't too many. There is a Character Death, just so you know.


I sit on my couch, holding my knees up to my chest. My arms are wrapped around my knees and my cheek is resting against the material of my jeans. Tears are dried on my cheeks as I stare at your picture on the wall. You are holding our baby girl, a bright smile is plastered to your face. You were so excited when I told you I was pregnant. When she was born, you wouldn't let her out of your sight.

I suddenly hear a soft whine from over the baby monitor and I drag myself to the nursery. I pick up our eleven month old daughter, who is standing in her crib, gripping the railing. I walk back to the living room and sit down on the couch, and put my feet up on the coffee table in front of me. I set her down on my lap, setting her back against my thighs. Tears are in her eyes as she asks, "Daddy?"

Tears fall down my cheeks for what seems like the millionth time that day. I gently stroke her cheek and say, "Daddy's not coming home anymore."

"Daddy!" she insists, getting more and more frustrated. "Daddy read!"

"Sweetheart, Daddy's gone," I whisper, "he's gone to a better place."

"Daddy!" she whimpered.

"Gina, he's not coming home!" I snap angrily.

Gina's bottom lip quivered, and I instantly regret what I said. I pull her to my chest and rub her back soothingly and apologize to her. I talk softly to her, and she falls asleep in my arms. I gently set her down in my lap again and I ask aloud, "Why did you leave us Gil? Gina needs her father and I need my husband. Whenever I was upset, you would hold my hand and whisper to me! If I was scared, you would hold my hand. If I got hurt, you would hold my hand. You would hold my hand through anything...even while the life drained out of you this afternoon!"

I sat in the kitchen, feeding Gina, waiting for you to come home from work. The phone suddenly rang, and I answered it. Brass was on the other line, telling me that you had been in a car accident. I drop Gina off at the neighbor's house before rushing out to the scene of the accident. When I arrive, it's worse than what I had imagined. Your car was flipped onto its back, and it the side of it was crashed into a telephone pole. Another truck was on the side of the road, not as badly damaged, but still damaged. I run over to where your truck is, and I see you lying under the car. Paramedics are working on getting you out, but having no luck.

"Gil, honey, talk to me!" I plead, grabbing his hand.

"S-s-sara!" he chokes out. "I'm s-sorry."

"Shh, don't talk," I say, tears leaking down my face. "They're going to get you out, hang in there."

"I l-l-love y-you," he said, coughing up blood.

"Please, hold on," I say desperately. "You're going to be okay."

"Tell G-Gina...I l-love h...h-her," he said.

He violently coughs, and blood runs down his mouth. I wipe it away with my free hand and said, "Gilbert Grissom, don't you dare give up on me! I held on for you!"

"I'm s-so s-s-sorry," he said, and his eyes become unfocused and empty.

I scream at him to wake up, tears falling wildly down my cheeks. I know it is useless, but it doesn't stop me from trying. I feel someone pulling me away from him, and I numbly walk away.

Tears fall down my pale cheeks, and my body racks with sobs. I'm surprised our daughter hasn't woken up because of me. I look down at her and instantly see your face. I look away as my heart aches. I look down at my hand and see it still coated in your blood. You always said you would hold my hand when I needed it, and you did. I can still feel your warm hand enveloping mine as you hold my hand.

"You hold my hand," I whisper, my voice wavering. "Well, you held my hand."


A/N 2: Okay, this is really sad, and tears are in my eyes right now. So, tell me if you liked it or didn't. I have no idea where this idea came from, but I had to write it.