Summary: Post "Grave Danger"-drabble. GSR, Nick/Sara friendship, hurt comfort, and all that in less than 1000 words. Hah.
Disclaimer: I didn't invent and don't own the characters. I'm making no money with this. As if.
A/N: Just watched that episode again, and this popped into my mind out of nowhere. I hope you enjoy it.
Rest
by
Miranda
1.
His hands are twitching, his breathing is labored. A fine film of sweat is covering his brow. Sara slips her hand into his and he grabs it, hard, crushing her bones, but she doesn't flinch. She smiles at him.
"It's ok, Nicky. I'm here."
His eyes dance wildly around the room. She feels him trying to breathe in, to focus.
"I know, I know. It's just... I can't..."
"Are you having trouble breathing? Should I call the doctor? He can give you something, help you sleep..."
"No! No, please, I don't want any more medication."
He's trying to fight back tears. She pretends she doesn't notice.
"It makes me go under, and then I wake up and I've lost another day, and I'm still tired, and still afraid. I wish I could just... rest, you know? Like I used to. Just... go to sleep."
He's sobbing now. She draws her chair closer, wanting to show her support, wanting to help, but unsure of what to do. Should she call his parents? They just went back to their hotel after being awake almost 70 hours straight, they were exhausted. Or maybe Catherine. She's a mother, she has to know more about nurturing and support.
Tears roll down his cheeks, and suddenly, she knows what to do.
"Scoot over."
"What? Sara, what are you- what are you doing?"
"Come on, scoot. There's room enough for the both of us, see?"
"I-"
"Shhh. Close your eyes."
"But Sara-"
"Do I have to beat you?"
He looks down at her. Has she ever been this close? At the lab, or at a scene, she always seemed tall, graceful, even imposing. But now she feels slight in his arms. And yet, for the first time since he got out of the jeep three nights ago, he feels safe. He closes his eyes.
"Thanks for this."
"Just rest, all right?"
"Sara?"
"What did I just say?"
"Grissom is so going to kill me."
"Why?"
"He's hung up on you."
He can feel himself drifting off to sleep, and, even though he's grateful, he also feels sorry. He can't remember when he last felt so comfortable.
"Is he?"
She's smiling against his shoulder, and he's smiling too.
"Oh yeah. And when he sees you in my bed, he's going to beat me to a pulp."
"Well, let me worry about that."
"It's a shame, too... you'd make such a nice couple..."
2.
"Nick? Nicky, you need to wake up."
"Hey, Grissom."
"Hi. The doctor needs to draw some blood for some tests, ok?"
"Ok."
He's about to ask where Sara is, but he bites his tongue. Maybe he didn't see it. Better that way, surely.
"So, did you sleep well?"
Grissom catches up with Sara on the corridor outside of Nick's room.
"Well... I think I pulled my neck."
She grimaces.
"Those beds were not really meant for two."
She looks at him.
"He couldn't sleep."
"Of course."
After a moment, she continues walking. A slight smile curves her mouth.
"He was afraid you'd beat him to a pulp."
"Why would I do that?"
"He thought you might be jealous."
"I am."
They've reached the parking lot now. They have each come in their own car, their ways home separate here. But they stop. Here.
"You are?"
"Yes."
"Of what?"
This time, she is not going to let it go. He can see that, and he choses his next words carefully.
"I have thought about that many times. Holding you like that."
She catches her breath. Tread softly now. She can't allow herself to think, not now. The words feel their way into her mouth and then out into the air.
"I have thought about it too."
Slowly, he raises his hand. Not very high and not very far. From outside, it looks as if he's feeling for rain. Until she puts her hand in his. Then, the purpose of his hand becomes perfectly clear. The purpose of both their hands.