Title: No greater loss
Author: Chibiness87
Rating: T for subject matter and one or two bad words.
Genre: Angst with an extra shot of angst. (GSR if you really really squint.)
Spoilers: Major for 1.19Gentle Gentle, slight ones for 5.13Nesting Dolls, 6.10Still Life
Summery: Post-ep for Gentle Gentle. Grissom visits Sara after the screen goes black.
Disclaimer: If it was mine GSR would have been canon from the get go! Unbeta-ed, all mistakes are mine.
A/N: I was watching this episode for the first time in a while, and while I was watching one scene my muse started yelling at me. Not quite what I intended when I started… but it's, um, something. Not my first fanfic, and not my first for this series, but is the first thing I've posted. Concrit welcome. Flames will be used to keep me warm at night.
"I've never seen him like this before" Nick commented, concern for his boss and mentor in his voice. Greg nodded his agreement, before watching Nick walk off down the corridor.
Sara turned to look at their retreating forms. She couldn't help but acknowledge there was something definitely up from the man they all thought to be emotionless. Turning in the opposite direction, she followed Grissom down the corridor.
Seeing him apparently on the war-path, she called out to him. Turing around, it was obvious to her he was just about keeping his temper in check.
Trying to calm him down, she reminded him of the advice he had given her a few weeks ago about becoming too attached to cases, and how no victim could be more special than any other. His reply shocked her; the words and also the passion behind them.
"Everyone didn't find that baby. I did. And that little boy is dead because someone lost their temper or screwed up or god knows what! So excuse me, but this victim is special."
Turning away from her, Sara took the meaning to be the conversation was over.
The case was over. The truth found out. And the truth was hard for her to accept. So she sat at home, a stiff drink in hand, trying to distance herself from everything the way Grissom had told her to.
The knocking at the door surprised her. She hadn't been in Las Vegas all that long. The others at the lab didn't call round like it seemed they did with others. And she could sort of understand that. She was the outsider. Becoming one of the team, true, but still a long way from not being "the new girl". Especially with Catherine, who seemed to take her presence there as a threat.
Moving from her couch, she peered through the peep hole, before opening her door to an obviously upset Grissom.
"Hey" Sara tried for a light tone, but it came out more concerned.
"Sara." In all the years she had known the entomologist standing at her door, she had never heard him sound so defeated. It was as if someone had killed his favourite bug, as if he had lost the most important thing in the world… as if he had found the body of a 4 month old baby killed and left on a golf course.
Opening the door wider, she allowed him access into her home. Vacant eyes followed her as she returned to her seat on the sofa. Glancing at his still form still stood in the doorway, she moved back to him. Grabbing his hand gently, she lead him to sit down next to her, content to let him come to terms to the horror of the last few days.
She didn't realise she hadn't let go of his hand until she felt his thumb run over her knuckles. Chancing a small look in his direction, she could see that he had no knowledge of what he as doing; it was if his hand had a mind of its own.
She had no idea how long the two of them sat there, her hand in his, her taking small sips from her drink from time to time. When he eventually began to speak, his voice was low and rough, the pain he was feeling radiating off him in waves.
"He was so small. Didn't have a chance. And it's not like his brother knew what he was doing either. He was three. Three Sara. How is he going to get through life? And his mother was willing to do time for him. To save him from the label of the boy who killed his brother. He's going to wake up tomorrow and not realise anything is wrong. Have no idea what he's done to that family. I don't get it Sara. I just… I don't get it. We see the worst of human nature every day. But this…
"Do you know what the worst part is?" He asked, looking at her for the first time since sitting next to her. "The worst thing is this could have been avoided. All of this. The lies. The staging. If Tyler had been paying attention. If Robbie hadn't gotten the glove. Hell, if the Andersons hadn't gone out that night. And now, that little baby is gone.
"I never realised just how small they were. Sure, I've seen babies before. But he was so small. So tiny and light. Smaller than my arm..."
"Grissom…" Sara started to say, her voice catching on his name. She tried again, needing to get to the man hidden behind the wall of grief that was emitting from him.
"Gil. Look at me." Seeing she had his attention, she made sure to keep eye contact. "Griss. None of this was your fault. You did everything you could." Seeing him try to break the eye contact, she moved her head to keep the connection. "Listen to me. You couldn't help him. I know it hurts. Believe me, I do, but as much as it hurts to hear, the baby was already dead. Hours before we even knew he was alive."
"You know? How could you?! You didn't find him Sara. How could you know what it's like to see…"
"Because I lost my baby dammit!!"
That shocked him into silence. Finding his voice again after a minute of intimidating a cod fish, he whispered "What?"
Moving to stand, Sara wrapped her arms around herself. Glancing skyward, she tried to find the strength to keep the tears at bay, knowing it was a fruitless attempt. Swallowing hard, she found her voice, and voiced the secret she'd been holding for a while.
"I was in Harvard. I thought he was a stand up guy, you know? And then when I found the news I was pregnant, I was so scared. I didn't have the best childhood in the world. I didn't know if I could be a mother. But Dave was there. Told me that together we could manage. I gave up Harvard that year. Wanted to do the best I could for my baby.
"Ciarrian was perfect. Blue eyes. Always been a sucker for blue eyes. And he was so small. And I have never been so afraid in my life. This little PERSON was utterly defenceless. Needed protection from everything. And I vowed to myself I would never let a fly touch him.
"It was 5 months after he was born. Dave, for all his promises and vows of being there for us had left me in the second trimester for the professor's daughter. But by then I couldn't terminate my baby. It wasn't his fault. He hadn't done anything. I couldn't do that. So anyway, I had kept in touch with some of my friends at Harvard, and they had planned this girls' night out. And I was desperate for some time off. As much as I love… loved my baby, I needed some "me time", you know?
So I looked up some numbers. Asked around. Found a babysitter who came with glowing recommendations a mile long. And I went out. Called the house every hour or so, checking up. I never understood why people did that until that day. And I was told that everything was fine. That he was sleeping. Sleeping." Her voice caught on the word. Taking a deep breath, trying desperately to keep the sobs at bay while tears ran unchecked down her face.
"I got in maybe 4 hours after leaving the house. I needed to see my baby. I paid the babysitter, and he left. I went upstairs to check on Ciarrian, and he was there in his crib. He was so still. So still. I didn't notice at first that anything was wrong. What sort of mother does that make me huh?
"The official cause of death was given as Acute subdural hematoma, caused by shaking. The babysitter couldn't get him to stop crying. He… he… he shook my baby to death. Then put him in his crib and told me he was sleeping.
"Did you ever wonder why an ex-Harard physics major was taking your seminar on forensic science? I vowed I wouldn't let other people get away with crimes. That I would help those who couldn't help themselves. Like I should have helped Ciarrian." Her voice turned hard, no longer stuck in the past.
"So don't you fucking dare sit there and tell me that I don't know what you feel. Just don't." The sobs that had been building up as she told her story finally broke free. Grissom was spurred into action by the sound of the strongest woman he knew breaking down in front of him. He stood behind her and pulled her unresisting from into his strong embrace, trying to protect her from the cruelness of the world, if only for a minute while she let her grief flow.
He didn't realise he was crying, sharing her grief until he felt the splash of tears hit his arm holding her tightly to him, and for the first time since he was a young boy trying to understand why his father wouldn't wake up, he did nothing to try to stop them, allowing his grief to mix with hers; two broken souls, comforting each other in the timeless room.