A/N: This is my first CSI fanfic. All reviews would be appreciated!
CSICSICSI
Her head hurt. That was her first thought. She was cold. That was her second thought. Something heavy was on her. That was her last thought, for awhile.
Her hand twitched. It felt free. Her fingers dug into the dirt. She tried to make a fist, but couldn't, and again her fingers returned to churning at the ground beneath her, so hard that she broke two fingernails. But what was two fingernails when the rest of her body was so broken?
It was dark. Sara blinked, hissing in pain. She'd wince, except the heaviness on top of her held her body stiff and still, grounding her into the desert land like a vice grip.
Then the memory assaulted her. She'd been in her trunk, getting out her bag. A sudden movement behind her, followed by a shadow and then intense pain in her neck. That's all she remembered. Now she was here, wherever here was. She was hurting and cold and alone.
"Grissom… " she whispered, her voice cracking with pain and grief. He would come. He would find her. They all would find her. She couldn't give up.
But it hurt so bad.
CSICSICSI
"Gil?" Catherine entered the locker room, hearing the retching coming from one of the men's bathroom stalls. She waited in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. Then she heard the flush of the toilet and finally he emerged. Pale. Sweating. His eyes looked haunted.
Catherine walked over and took his elbow. "We'll find her."
Her cell phone went off. So did his.
CSICSICSI
He was usually calm and collected and focused, especially on the way to a crime scene. Not this time. He was hunched forward in the passenger seat of Catherine's Tahoe, his face in his hands. He rubbed at his face. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not after everything… He'd wasted so much time!
Grissom let out a ragged breath and lifted his head. It was dark in the desert, except for the flashing lights of their Tahoe's and the other officers. But the night was filled with their sirens. He saw and heard nothing at first, too lost in his grief. Nor did he hear Catherine's soft voice, assuring him they'd found her, they'd save her, Sara would be alright. No one really knew if she'd ever be alright again, let alone survive, but Catherine kept assuring him of that fact, nevertheless. Not that he heard her. No, he only heard his own thoughts, and Sara's voice. Her soft sweet voice, whispering to him in a quiet corner of the locker room. Sara sighing and calling out his name as he plunged into her again and again. Sara's loving gentle words as they held each other close, basking in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Sara scolding the dog for chewing on Grissom's slippers. On and on it went, only interrupted by his own voice, full of blame and regrets and fears.
Then he noticed the bright lights. Catherine slowed the Tahoe and the scene came into view. It was the same scene from the miniature at the lab. A red car was upside down, and trapped beneath it would be Sara. His Sara.
Before Catherine could shut off the engine and bring the vehicle to a stop, Grissom was flying out the door.
CSICSICSI
Sara tried to open her eyes, but the darkness was so heavy. Her hand twitched, and Grissom immediately sat up in his chair, his hands gripping onto Sara's. He was as close to the bed as he could get without being in it. Both of his hands were tenderly holding Sara's, until the twitching. Now he grasped at it firmly. His eyes studied her face. He leaned closer. "Sara?" His voice was a whisper and a plea.
Sara's other arm moved, the tubing of her I.V. smacking against the bed rails. She groaned and her eyes blinked.
"Oh, Sara," Grissom said again, a bit louder this time. "Honey, I'm right here. I'm right here."
Her eyes fluttered open again. Everything hurt. She was caught in that place between wakefulness and oblivion. But she wanted to wake up. She felt the pain in her chest, dulled by drugs but still there, almost as if it was distant. Her legs hurt. She tried to move her toes and found that she could, even though the rest of her legs felt heavy. Then her fingers. She squeezed and felt Grissom squeeze her fingers back. She was trying so hard. "I… can't… wake my face up," she whispered.
Grissom blinked. Her face?
Then her eyes opened fully, and finally focused on him. "There… " she whispered again.
He leaned closer, lifting one hand from his grasp around her fingers to her face. Lightly he stroked her cheek. He didn't know what to say. He had no words for everything he was feeling in that moment. He'd almost lost her! A tear was in the corner of his eye and it fell unbidden to streak down his cheek.
Sara saw all the emotion in his eyes and face. Her heart ached for him in her chest. Suddenly, without knowing what had even really happened, she knew she had to comfort him. "Gil?" Her fingers squeezed his again. Then she smiled.
And he was lost. His head fell onto her chest and he sobbed. Her hands moved around his neck, stroking lightly, her voice soothing, surprised, but tender.
A nurse was suddenly there. She hesitated, wanting to check on Sara but not wanting to disturb the man that had kept vigil by her side for so long. Sara's eyes flickered up to the nurse. The nurse saw the pain on her patient's face, but it was overshadowed by an expression of wonder and surprise. And love.
Finally Grissom wiped his eyes with the bed sheet. He lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Sara's. "I love you," he said.
His tone was filled with such conviction and devotion that Sara was overwhelmed. She gave him another painful smile and cupped his face in her hands. "I love you too."
He brushed his lips against hers in a tender, gentle kiss. Then he leaned back in his chair so the nurse could poke and prod and ask Sara her questions, but he never let go of her hand. He was not ever letting go of her again.