Stone Angel

By: Emmithar

Rating: T

Summary: She was a solid as a rock, and steadier than anyone had ever seen her. If only she knew that he wasn't as strong. Sandle.

A/N: It was originally supposed to be a one shot, but now has been merged into a short story. Emphasis on short, there is only one more chapter of this, unless of course my mind works up a new way to tor…ahem, end this story. All mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I've never owned them, and unless a miracle happens, I never will.

Chapter One: The Breaking

The one thing he knew was that he was home. This was his room, his bed that he stumbled too. A strong pair of hands pushed him down, supporting him for a moment longer. The room was spinning, and Greg closed his eyes, trying to fight off the nauseous feeling.

He let out a groan as his jacket was taken off none too lightly. His shirt followed soon after, the fabric being tugged over his head. "That hurts…" he muttered softly.

"Well, what did you expect?" Sara wondered harshly, balling the soiled clothes up in her hands. "Take your pants off, I'll be right back."

Greg watched the brunette leave before collapsing on the bed with another groan. He couldn't remember a time where he felt this horrid…this sick. Sleep was beckoning to him as he closed his heavy eyes, only seconds away from an enticing dreamland….

"Greg!"

"What?" he snapped irritably, opening his eyes.

"I told you to take off your pants," Sara reminded him crossly, depositing a fresh batch of clothing on bed. "I'm not going to sleep with you when you smell like puke."

"Go away," he muttered, laying his head back down on the pillows. At this point he could really care less.

"Now, Greg."

With a sullen sigh he finally moved to obey, fighting off the wave of dizziness that hit him as he did so. Somehow he managed, not even protesting when Sara helped him to redress.

On the edge of the bed he drew in several deep breaths, hands gripping the fabric underneath him. He couldn't decide at this point what felt worse. The pounding in his head, or the heaviness in his heart.

"Are you okay?"

Sara had him by the shoulders; he could smell the peppermint on her breath, she was that close. After a moment he nodded, answering her previous question.

"You're not going to get sick again, are you?"

Greg waited another moment before answering with a shake of his head. Even if he wanted to, there was nothing left to throw up. He could feel her strong hands guiding him back on the bed and under the covers.

"Get some sleep…"

And he did.

Sara waited until he fell asleep before leaving the room. It didn't take very long, and at the same time she couldn't be sure if he was actually sleeping, or if he had passed out. Either was a possible option.

She threw his pants into the washer along with his other clothes, starting the small load, the fury still flowing through her veins. Sure, maybe she could have been a little more lenient with him. Maybe feel even a little sorry for him…

That would come later. Now…right now she was pissed. Greg was lucky, even more so than the man thought, and maybe ever would. If the officer had found him a few minutes later, or even if had been someone different…

Sara shook her head, moving back out into the kitchen. Didn't Greg know that he could very well lose his job pulling a stunt like that? And that would be light compared to killing himself, or even worse, someone else. And Sara thought she had been lucky avoiding her own DUI.

She came to a stop, pulling the small tin out of the overhead cabinet. Sara wondered if she could honestly blame some of the mess on her part. After all it had been her choice to not follow Greg; it had been her choice not to call and check up on him. Could her negligence play a roll in all of this?

The tea kettle whistled, breaking her momentary thoughts. The water was ready, and she added a couple of scoops to the small mug, stirring the contents with a spoon. The coco was warm, sweet tasting as she took a sip.

The night's events she remembered vividly, perhaps because it had not been the best of times in her life. Work had started out normally, or as normal as their line of work got. Three murders, one suicide. Sara had been in early, the only reason prompting Greg to drive in a separate car.

It was no secret about their relationship. They had been dating for many months now, and the entire lab knew it. For the most part it was hassle free, save for the simple fact she and Greg could not work together. They owed their thanks to Ecklie for that maneuver. Something about them not being able to remain professional concerning their status.

Sara snorted as she took another sip, draining what was left in the mug. They saw each other throughout the night, and sometimes if they planned things right they would sneak off together for a break. If not it was a five minute hug and kiss as they walked by one another. Sometimes they were lucky to get in a few words.

But this wasn't one of those nights. Sara cleaned up the mess she had made, setting the mug in the sink as she headed back into the bedroom, pausing long enough to hear his quiet snores. Satisfied she moved into the bathroom, peeling off her shirt, and stepping out of her own pants.

She and Catherine had finished up the scene, bagging and labeling the evidence, stopping for a bite to eat on the way back to the crime lab. Sara had thought something was off then, the blonde hardly ever stopped for such a lengthy break in the middle of shift. And never had she offered to pay for the entire meal. But she wasn't going to back out of such an enticing offer. They headed back to the lab shortly after.

Her phone rang, leaving Sara to fish it out of her pant pocket. Somehow she was unsurprised to see that the caller ID was displaying her supervisor's name. "Sidle."

"Did you get him home okay?"

Sara finished dressing, supporting the phone with her shoulder, her head tilted to keep it from slipping. "Yeah…he's sleeping right now."

"How is he?"

Sara moved to the door, checking in on his resting form. "I can tell you one thing; he'll be feeling it in the morning."

Her supervisor's voice was grim. "Keep a close eye on him, alcohol poisoning might be a possibility; you'll have to…"

"Take him to the doctor's," Sara cut him off, "I know. Don't worry…besides, it might be a good thing if he does have it."

"How so?" he asked, surprised to hear her say that.

"Because," she replied, muttering under her breath. "If he dies from it then it'll save me from throttling him."

"Be nice," Grissom warned her, "Greg will have a hard enough time in the morning. He doesn't need you bashing on him."

"I know," Sara let out a sigh, running a hand through her knotted hair. "I'm just so mad at him right now. I really didn't think he would do something like this."

"Neither did I," he agreed, "Otherwise I probably would have gone after him myself. Just take it easy, a day or two, however long the both of you need. I'll cover for you."

"Thank you," she told him quietly, ending the call there. So far there were only two of them that knew what had happened. Three, if Greg was lucky enough to remember by the time morning came around.

She set her phone on the counter, moving back into the room. She wouldn't need it again tonight. Carefully she climbed into the bed on the unoccupied side, taking care not to wake him. Though that feat may be impossible at this moment. Sara rested her hand on his forehead, before laying her head down next to him, counting his slow breaths to make sure that they were even. He should be fine, but even still she was anxious about falling asleep.

He had been so happy earlier, Sara able to note the joy in voice, the nervousness. Something was up; Greg had never been this jumpy before. Grissom was reviewing cases, catching up with where everyone was. Catherine and Warrick were on the couch, Nick chatting with Brass over in the corner. The whole crew waiting for new assignments, or just taking a break from their current one.

That was when it had happened. Greg had dropped to one knee, taken her hands in his. And he had proposed.

Of course the room was silent; Sara had never heard the crime lab that quiet before, with smiles across the room. Of course they all knew what he had planned, that was why Catherine had stalled her. And now, this...Greg asking her to marry him, offering up a ring that was far more beautiful that she was.

And she had said no.

She had said no in front of everyone.

Sara closed her eyes, fighting off the sickly feeling. She just wasn't ready; she could barely even think of it now. But even more so, she couldn't handle it then, barely waiting to see his crestfallen expression as she left the room.

There were hushed whispers the rest of that night as Sara tried to concentrate on her work. Greg had left shortly after the commotion, muttering something about heading home. Grissom had urged her to do the same, saying something about the pair needing to talk but Sara refused. She had a job to do, and she wasn't going to let any personal problems interfere.

That's what she believed of course, until Grissom pulled her to the side. An officer had just called him; Greg had not gone home, he had gone to a local bar. Now, at 2:15 in the morning, he was attempting to drive home. The officer had been lucky enough to find Greg fumbling with his keys, trying to unlock a door that was already open. Running a sobriety test confirmed that he was above the legal limit.

With the directions in hand Sara set out to track him down. It didn't take long to get there, and the officer was waiting. It was through mere luck that the officer knew Grissom personally, and had recognized the department when he checked Greg's ID. Any other officer would have called Ecklie, and then all hell would have broken loose.

Greg was sitting on the sidewalk when she arrived; Sara, at that point, wasn't sure if she wanted to pull him into a hug, or just simply kick him as she walked by. In the end she chose to ignore him, talking with the officer instead. There would be no charges pressed, this entire matter would simply be forgotten.

He had already been sick twice since leaving the bar, and he ended sick once more on the ride home. Sara was only thankful that it ended up over him, and not the car. To top things off he proceeded to vomit again once they were inside his apartment.

And all of that off of a few beers…Sara shook her head, letting out a sigh as her eyes drifted close. At least it confirmed her beliefs that Greg was not a heavy drinker.

Sara was surprised to find herself alone when she woke up. The covers were pulled back, some resting around her waist, and the rest on the floor. With a heavy yawn she sat up, rubbing her head.

Greg was out in the kitchen; his head resting his hands as he massaged his temples steadily, his face hanging over a steaming mug of which she assumed was coffee. With a pitying sigh she shook her head, but smiled quietly. He was going to be okay…

"Why are you still here?"

She hadn't said anything, but obviously he knew that she was there. Sara raised an eyebrow, answering his question. "Last time I checked I lived here."

"You have a place of your own," he snapped quietly. "Go home."

"Are you kicking me out?"

When he didn't answer right away, Sara waited, but as the minutes went by it was clear that he didn't intend to. Understanding now she nodded.

"Let me pack my things and I'll leave."

The small suitcase was under the bed. Greg had stored it there after Sara had made the decision to move in together. They had been in the process of selling her place, but now she was grateful they hadn't gotten that far.

Part of her wasn't surprised. After all she had just rejected marrying the man she loved. What did she expect, a surprise party? It was still heartbreaking, to think that this one setback would be the end to their relationship.

Sara came to a stop as she folded one of her shirts, her fingers trembling. Was this it? Was it really over between them? She had figured they would fight, that they would argue. But splitting up?

Sure they had their quarrels in the past; small disagreements here and there…but none of them had ended like this. Greg had never made her leave…

Sure, she had gone off on her own, but that had been her choice. Now Greg was making that decision for her. With a sullen sigh she snapped the suitcase closed, slipping on some sandals as she left the room. She could always come back for the rest of her stuff later.

Greg hadn't even moved from where he sat, still staring at the coffee mug that was half empty. Seeing this Sara walked to the door, not even looking his way. She did, however, pause at the door, turning back to him. He still hadn't moved.

"I guess I'll be seeing you later then," she told him quietly.

There was no response. Sara shook her head, wondering why she even expected one as she turned the handle on the door.

"I do want to see you later," Greg said quietly, halting her in the process. "I just can't handle it right now."

"Why is that?"

Greg finally lifted his head, staring at her. "Maybe because when I see you, I forget that I'm mad. And I desperately want to be mad at you…"

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Why? Because I told you no? Because I took my own feelings into account, because maybe, I don't know, have different ideas than you do?"

"I don't want to talk about this right now," Greg warned her quietly. "Just go."

"So that's it?" Sara wondered, throwing her hands into the air in mild frustration. "You're just going to shut me out, not let me explain…"

"I don't think the phrase, 'No Greg, I don't want to marry you', needs an explanation," he remarked roughly, his voice bitter.

She was silent for a moment, before shaking her head. "Fine…you believe whatever you want. There really isn't a point in explaining it to you anyways."

She didn't wait long enough to see the questioning gaze Greg gave her, only slamming the door behind her as she left. The man winced as the echo reverberated through his already aching skull, before turning his attention back to his warm drink. Before, all he had wanted was to be alone. Then why did he get a sudden sickly feeling now that he was?

TBC