Grace's Concern
By ohfan007
Author's note and disclaimer: this is a sequel to my first Profiler story.The characters do not belong to me.
This is written as an exerpt from Grace's Journal.
November 25th
late evening
Something really bad happened today. I don't know how George can handle such things. You see Richard Warren died today. George has asked us to let him deal with this on his own, but I don't know how it does any good. He is still grieveing Julie's lost, and I believe he will never been the same, he has spent the majority of his adult life being in a relationship with these two people. I didn't know Richard very well, I do know they were friends before they became lovers, and that George loved him. I mourn for him, for Georgie. I am not sure if George can handle this, and I wonder if we have lost our good friend, with his great sense of humor.
The news of the suicide came while Sam and I were at lunch. We walked in as George was asking Bailey if someone could take him home. This made us concerned, George has been through so much during the last few days. Bailey was very blunt when he told us. I could understand why, George appeared as if he was fighting back tears, and Bailey thought it would be easier for us to let George handle this himself if he gave us very little details. I don't remember the exact conversation that came after that, but I do remember that some how, we also learned, Frances had broken up with George.It is sad how a new romance was broken on such a sad occasion. It might have done George a world of good. I know he and Frances haven't been seeing each other that long, and maybe she did it, for fear he would be on the rebound.He needs someone in the apartment with him, to be there for him when he cries.
I drove him home today, and it broke my heart.He didn't say a word, tears just streamed down his face as he gazed down the window. He held on to the two letters tightly, the suicide note from Richard, and the break up letter from Frances, as if they were his salvation. I tried to say something comforting to him, and tell him how sorry I was. (I truly am sorry, he doesn't need this right now. He needs to try to reconstruct his life in a peaceful way, but not with a cloud of grief over his head.) He didn't hear a word I said. He was off into his own world. I found myself crying, as we drove, poor George, how hard this must be for him. I know he didn't mean to zone me out. He would never do that intentionally.He has a habit sometimes of letting other people stand above his problems. Its not a bad thing, that is how he deals with it. And it makes you feel he really is your friend. I am glad he didn't try to see if there was anything wrong in my life, and use that as a shield to hide his feelings. I think I would be more concerned for him if that had been the case on the ride home.It was a bizarre kind of silence on the ride home, not uncomfortable like some silences, because you don't know what to say, but a bit nerve wrecking, because you know there is nothing you can say.
I walked him up to his apartment, and he asked me to come in for a few minutes, to talk, if it was okay. (I was relieved to see the blood had been cleaned off the hallway wall.)I told him that it was.We went into the living room, and he asked if I could make us something to drink, he couldn't do it he was too unnerved. I nodded, and I went into his large kitchen, finding two cans of diet soda, and I poured them in glasses with tiny little buildings stenciled onto the glass. When I brought them back he was sitting in the beanbag chair. I handed him his glass and sat down on his fluffy velvet couch, as close as I could to him. I told him I was sorry again, he nodded.
Then, he asked if he could talk about Richard with me. I told him, we could talk about anything he wanted, since he obviously needed to talk, and I could stay as long as he needed. First, he began to tell me about some of the happy things he and Richard had done, some I had heard, but it was interesting, as it was the first time I heard it. He knew I was sad because Richard had died, but he wanted me to glance into his world a little, and I knew it would help him a little, though he was still mourning, and when it fully hit him, he would probably cringe at even the name, Richard. I know having been with him when he lost Julie. We weren't as good friends then, but I was there for him, then, as I would be now. He and the rest of the VCTF members are like a second family to me.
During his happy rememberances of Richard, he switched tones, and began to tell me the sad things.Things like how he had given him so much, and in turn, Richard had violently slashed back at him. He felt stupid for continuing to love Richard, after all the things he had put him through. I answered him, telling him that's how I know, he really loved Richard.( I am the same with my Mom.) He nodded, considering to contemplate it in his almost wayward , yet sweet, George way.
After an hour of crying and remembering with George, he asked me to go back to work, he needed to be alone. I agreed. We both got up from our seats, and we exchanged a hug, and he thank me for listening. I kissed his check, and told him, if he needed to talk again to please call, even if I am work. He nodded not totally agreeing, and he walked me to the door. I told him to take care of himself, and that he would get some peace from his vacation. He didn't say anything, but closed the door.
I know he may not call me again, not that he doesn't need to talk, but he would rather deal with this in his own way. Unfortunately, in a way, I suspect he talked to me, so I would tell the rest of the members that he was dealing with it, and that he was okay. I know he really isn't. He is putting on a facade, so, we will let him handle this. He does need to handle this on his own, but he also, needs to know we are here for him to catch him when he falls. I probably go visit him tomorrow, if I can get off, and bring him some chocolate.
I think I will go get some chocolate myself, writing this has made me somewhat depressed, I feel helpless in a way, I hope he will be all right. I will keep him in my prayers. But right this minute Jason is calling, and he needs me to, so I need to end this.
By ohfan007
Author's note and disclaimer: this is a sequel to my first Profiler story.The characters do not belong to me.
This is written as an exerpt from Grace's Journal.
November 25th
late evening
Something really bad happened today. I don't know how George can handle such things. You see Richard Warren died today. George has asked us to let him deal with this on his own, but I don't know how it does any good. He is still grieveing Julie's lost, and I believe he will never been the same, he has spent the majority of his adult life being in a relationship with these two people. I didn't know Richard very well, I do know they were friends before they became lovers, and that George loved him. I mourn for him, for Georgie. I am not sure if George can handle this, and I wonder if we have lost our good friend, with his great sense of humor.
The news of the suicide came while Sam and I were at lunch. We walked in as George was asking Bailey if someone could take him home. This made us concerned, George has been through so much during the last few days. Bailey was very blunt when he told us. I could understand why, George appeared as if he was fighting back tears, and Bailey thought it would be easier for us to let George handle this himself if he gave us very little details. I don't remember the exact conversation that came after that, but I do remember that some how, we also learned, Frances had broken up with George.It is sad how a new romance was broken on such a sad occasion. It might have done George a world of good. I know he and Frances haven't been seeing each other that long, and maybe she did it, for fear he would be on the rebound.He needs someone in the apartment with him, to be there for him when he cries.
I drove him home today, and it broke my heart.He didn't say a word, tears just streamed down his face as he gazed down the window. He held on to the two letters tightly, the suicide note from Richard, and the break up letter from Frances, as if they were his salvation. I tried to say something comforting to him, and tell him how sorry I was. (I truly am sorry, he doesn't need this right now. He needs to try to reconstruct his life in a peaceful way, but not with a cloud of grief over his head.) He didn't hear a word I said. He was off into his own world. I found myself crying, as we drove, poor George, how hard this must be for him. I know he didn't mean to zone me out. He would never do that intentionally.He has a habit sometimes of letting other people stand above his problems. Its not a bad thing, that is how he deals with it. And it makes you feel he really is your friend. I am glad he didn't try to see if there was anything wrong in my life, and use that as a shield to hide his feelings. I think I would be more concerned for him if that had been the case on the ride home.It was a bizarre kind of silence on the ride home, not uncomfortable like some silences, because you don't know what to say, but a bit nerve wrecking, because you know there is nothing you can say.
I walked him up to his apartment, and he asked me to come in for a few minutes, to talk, if it was okay. (I was relieved to see the blood had been cleaned off the hallway wall.)I told him that it was.We went into the living room, and he asked if I could make us something to drink, he couldn't do it he was too unnerved. I nodded, and I went into his large kitchen, finding two cans of diet soda, and I poured them in glasses with tiny little buildings stenciled onto the glass. When I brought them back he was sitting in the beanbag chair. I handed him his glass and sat down on his fluffy velvet couch, as close as I could to him. I told him I was sorry again, he nodded.
Then, he asked if he could talk about Richard with me. I told him, we could talk about anything he wanted, since he obviously needed to talk, and I could stay as long as he needed. First, he began to tell me about some of the happy things he and Richard had done, some I had heard, but it was interesting, as it was the first time I heard it. He knew I was sad because Richard had died, but he wanted me to glance into his world a little, and I knew it would help him a little, though he was still mourning, and when it fully hit him, he would probably cringe at even the name, Richard. I know having been with him when he lost Julie. We weren't as good friends then, but I was there for him, then, as I would be now. He and the rest of the VCTF members are like a second family to me.
During his happy rememberances of Richard, he switched tones, and began to tell me the sad things.Things like how he had given him so much, and in turn, Richard had violently slashed back at him. He felt stupid for continuing to love Richard, after all the things he had put him through. I answered him, telling him that's how I know, he really loved Richard.( I am the same with my Mom.) He nodded, considering to contemplate it in his almost wayward , yet sweet, George way.
After an hour of crying and remembering with George, he asked me to go back to work, he needed to be alone. I agreed. We both got up from our seats, and we exchanged a hug, and he thank me for listening. I kissed his check, and told him, if he needed to talk again to please call, even if I am work. He nodded not totally agreeing, and he walked me to the door. I told him to take care of himself, and that he would get some peace from his vacation. He didn't say anything, but closed the door.
I know he may not call me again, not that he doesn't need to talk, but he would rather deal with this in his own way. Unfortunately, in a way, I suspect he talked to me, so I would tell the rest of the members that he was dealing with it, and that he was okay. I know he really isn't. He is putting on a facade, so, we will let him handle this. He does need to handle this on his own, but he also, needs to know we are here for him to catch him when he falls. I probably go visit him tomorrow, if I can get off, and bring him some chocolate.
I think I will go get some chocolate myself, writing this has made me somewhat depressed, I feel helpless in a way, I hope he will be all right. I will keep him in my prayers. But right this minute Jason is calling, and he needs me to, so I need to end this.