Howdy! Happy holiday season to one and all. May you be safe and have a grand time!
This is my entry into the November FanFiction Drabble Challenge over at CSI Forever Online .com with the following prompts: an explosion, a piece of rope or string, a glass bottle, a grasshopper.
Enjoy!
Onward ~
Magic
by Susan Dietz (Calim 11)
Rating: PG-13 / K+
Category: SS/GG
Summary: A long wait for Sara. Written for CSI Forever Online prompt story challenge using: an explosion, a rope or piece of string, a glass bottle, a grasshopper.
© November 2012
Feedback is appreciated
Disclaimer: The characters and general situations in this story are the property of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer, however I reserve the rights to the specific details. It is not my intention to infringe upon their rights; this story is purely for the enjoyment of fans. Please do not redistribute in any form
It's quiet here. There are no sounds from the hall - no talking, alarms or carts rolling by. Maybe it's because I'm focused on the beep of the heart monitor that seems to fill the room or how Gil's chest rises and falls with each precious breath he takes.
I raise his hand that's clutched in mine and kiss it one more time. I'll do it again soon enough and send another prayer to whomever might be listening. He would laugh if he knew. I've never been one for God. I'll try anything if it'll bring him back to me.
A crinkling sounds and I glance down. A fleeting wisp of fear rushes at me and I hastily pick up the folded paper, holding it to my chest, eyes closed, as if it's my life's blood. He'd put it in a glass Coke bottle, a message strictly for me that a nurse handed over once they knew who I was. I stared at it through the Ziploc bag, imagining him holding it, pushing the note inside, wondering if he'd said enough or if I'd see it, then slammed it against the desk, carefully retrieving it to look upon all that might be left of him; at his thoughts when he didn't know if he'd see the morrow. I shake my head. That shall not enter this room. No questions only certainties are needed along with what is laying before me, sleeping, healing, taking another breath.
But now that I have the note in hand I must read it. I've already memorized it, already know those words written in a shaky script. But they are his words, his thoughts, things he needed to say, he needed to tell me and I'll run a finger over the letters until I can't read them anymore.
'Sara. I found my grasshopper. He's beautiful. But I must let him go. There's been an accident. Warren can't get me out so he's left for help. So my time is spent thinking of you - your smile, your laugh, you. I love you, Sara. I've always loved you. My one wish is to see you again before I leave this earth and I'll fight to stay. Please know that. But, if it proves too much, I'll always be watching over you. Always. Gil.'
"Always," I say, my voice sounding so loud.
I refold the note and tuck it in a pocket. If I keep it close perhaps some magic will appear to deliver this good man back to me. That's all I want - him back in my arms, smiling at me, looking at me with those blue, blue eyes that tell me so much.
Something wet plops on my hand. I watch it roll off and onto his fingers before dropping to the sheets to disappear. If only tears could awaken my sleeping beauty then all would be well but the litany of ills from the doctor spoils that fantasy: a skull fracture, broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, internal bleeding, multiple contusions, lacerations and bruising of the kidneys. And he flat lined twice.
Flat lined.
Twice.
"Sara?" comes at me and I vaguely hear it, turning to see Warren Downs leaning against the door looking awkward on his crutches.
I try to give him a smile but it's half-hearted at best. None of this is his fault. He went for help. But he's standing while Gil . . .
"I hurried as fast as I could, Sara, please know that." His words flutter over me and I blink. "There was an explosion. Natural gas I think they said. He was in front of me. I couldn't get to him."
It suddenly hits me that I'm not being fair and rise slowly, gently placing Gil's hand on the bed, my own aching at the loss as I cross the room and guide him to an empty chair.
"It's all right, Warren."
He shakes his head. "No, no it's not. I can't be the one that lives if . . ."
I run a hand across his back and force myself not to yell 'HE'S GOING TO LIVE!' Instead I kneel and touch his hand. He looks at me with surprise then thankfulness then hands me something. It's a piece of string. I gasp then tears fall as my fingers wrap about it.
"Before I left, he told me to give this to you, make sure you tie it about your finger because he needs you to remind him what it was he was supposed to do."
I laugh then and hand it back letting Warren tie it for me. "He was supposed to bring back maple leaves for his mother's Christmas gift."
Warren grins a bit then sobers. "He did that the first day. They're in his backpack. Search and Rescue left it behind but as soon as I can walk straight, I'll head back and get them."
"It's not important," I say staring at the string.
He touches my shoulder. "It was important to him. It's the least I can do."
I look up. "You've done so much already, Warren. I can never repay you for bringing him home, no matter the outcome," I quickly add knowing he'll object. Instead he merely nods and looks towards Gil.
"He looks better. Is he?"
I clear my throat. "He's critical but I'm hopeful he'll soon wake. I have to believe he will."
"Then he will."
I look up to see his serious expression directed solely at me and give him a ghost of a smile. Words. These are just words. But words can carry weight and wisdom, longing and wishes, and so much more.
"Do you want me to sit with you? You're alone here."
I stand and help him up. "I'm not alone," I say then look at Gil. "He's with me and that's all I need." I realize I'm kicking him out and glance his way. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he says. "He knows you're here and that's enough for him." He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Call if you need anything."
"I will. And, thank you."
Nodding, he leaves and I head back to my chair and pick up Gil's hand. It's my job to guard him from those who wish to take him from me. They'll have hell to pay if they try.
"I'm here, baby," I say, kissing his hand. "I'll always be here."
CSICSICSICSI
I dream of good times with good friends and always Gil is there smiling and laughing. That's how I think of him. A loving, gentle man who keeps me breathing when sometimes I'd rather not. Into this dream comes a warmth, a warmth that overshadows everything and sends me flying toward the light above to open my eyes. I no longer hold Gil's hand for it rests upon my face. I must still be dreaming and bask in the feeling.
". . . hey," comes at me in a gravelly, weak voice and my eyes fly open.
Sitting upright, I catch his hand as it falls and stare in the direction of that glorious sound, my heart pounding at the slight tug of his lips to one side, the barely parted lids revealing those eyes I love so much. Tears fall again and I hold his hand to my face, his fingers brushing ever so softly over the string on mine.
". . . what . . . did . . . I forget?" he manages.
A short laugh escapes and I kiss his palm. "Nothing."
"Had to be . . . something."
I shake my head. "You remembered the way home."
His smile grows. "I'll never forget that."
We hold each other's gaze and say nothing else. I press my free hand to the pocket containing his note and am awed at the magic conjured. No longer shall I scoff at the idea that wishing and hoping are a waste of time or, to some extent, praying. Someone was listening and, for this gift . . .
For this gift I thank you with everything I have.
Warren Downs is a new character. I fashioned him as a guide Grissom uses on occasion and a friend to them both. Besides I couldn't see Brass going with him to hunt for a grasshopper.
I hope you enjoyed this short piece. If so, please leave a review. You know what a hog I am. Happy week!