Grissom rushed home, hoping with every fiber of his being that Sara's letter didn't mean what it sounded like it meant. He found her in their daughters' room, cradling Caitlyn with tears streaming down her face. Without a moment's hesitation he rushed to her side, gently lifting her into his arms. He settled into the glider with Sara curled against his chest. He felt his own eyes grow hot as she began to sob.
"I can't do it, Gil," she whispered, "I can't stay, but I can't leave the kids. And I can't leave you. I love you." Grissom ran a comforting hand up and down her arm.
"I know you love me, Sara dear. The kids know that you love them. Take time off to be with them. Live in the daylight with their joyful innocence. Just, please, let me help you. I need to keep you close to me, Sara. Losing you for that night and that day, I can't handle that again."
"Gil," Sara said, "I want to stay. I've tried to stay. But my ghosts aren't here."
"Do what you can here, phone calls, emails, things like that, then we'll both take time, we'll go on a road trip. Together. As a family," he bargained.
"What about the team?" she asked.
"Let them think you've left. They'll leave you alone if they don't know you're still around," Grissom reasoned.
"Okay," she said, leaning up for a kiss.
"Right now," Grissom said, "Let's put the little one in her crib and get you some decent rest before the Saturday morning invasion." He was referring to their older children's tendency to rise early on weekends. Sara stood and safely tucked the six month old infant into her crib. They then snuggled under their comforter and fell asleep.
Just a few hours later, Sara awoke to find that Grissom had been replaced by two little dark haired angels. Surprisingly, both Sydle and Matthias were still sleeping peacefully. Sara smiled at them, reaching out and stroking their perfect faces. She planted kisses on each of their foreheads and rose. She found her husband in the kitchen, fixing breakfast. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the back of his shoulder.
"Good morning, dear," he said, "Are you feeling any better?" She nodded slowly.
"A little," she admitted.
"I had a thought," Grissom said, turning in Sara's embrace, "The lake house." Sara raised an eyebrow and waited.
"The house my mother bought after she sold the art gallery out in L.A." he continued, "The one on the secluded bay on Lake Mead. You can take the kids, and I'll travel out there as often as I can. That way you can get away from here but not have to leave me and the kids. You could even start
homeschooling Sydle if you wanted." Sara smiled a bit at that last statement. She considered the idea and gave a small nod, agreeing to the plan. Grissom felt his heart soar with relief. He kissed Sara gently on the forehead and turned back to breakfast. She heard Caitlyn begin to fuss and went to find her. She felt a true smile bubble up inside of her at the sight of her daughter's blue eyes and gummy smile. The baby reached up for her mother. Sara happily lifted her from the crib and carried her out into the living room. Sydle and Mattie came running as well. They leapt all over Sara as she sat down on the floor. The tickling match that ensued lasted until Grissom called them all to breakfast.
That afternoon, Grissom and Sara worked together to pack a few suitcases with enough belongings to last them a few weeks out at the lake house. They packed up the kids and the dog and headed out, stopping for groceries on the way. After an hour's drive, they turned into the secluded neighborhood on the lake in which their house sat, nestled behind a large willow tree. As soon as the car stopped, Sydle clicked open her booster seat and hopped down from the car. She ran to the tree, hiding beneath its branches. Sara pulled Caitlyn's car seat from its stand in the car while Grissom helped Mattie out of his booster. The little boy wiggled from his father's grasp and raced to join his sister, who was also his best friend in the world. Grissom then let the dog out of his kennel in the back of the truck, laughing as he ran to join the children.
Grissom and Sara strolled hand in hand toward the house. The sun was still shining strong, and the day was pleasant, so they opened the windows and let the fresh air chase the stuffiness from the house. They made up the beds, all the while keeping an eye out the window at the kids playing happily in the yard. They watched as Sydle threw a stick for Hank, then wrestled with him to get it back, only to throw it again, much to her little brother's delight. Grissom watched as they talked, easily able to 'hear' what they were 'saying' with their little hands.
Sara took Caitlyn from the carrier and walked out onto the porch with her. She settled herself onto the large swing and stared out across the yard. She felt the swing groan a little as Grissom joined her, and leaned back against him. He ran his fingers through her hair and she very nearly purred. They sat like that until the kids grew tired and whiney and they were ushered inside for nap time. Grissom then kissed Sara and headed back to Vegas for work. Sara sat down at the computer to write up a to-do list for getting rid of her ghosts. She finally had to pull the battery from her phone because of all the calls she was getting from the team.
--
Their system worked for a couple of months, until Grissom got sick. He'd taken Hank to Vegas for the night as a punishment for his children's disobedience. The tickle he'd felt in his throat during the drive to work bloomed during the night into a full-blown case of the flu. He barely made it back to the townhouse he'd bought for its proximity to the lab. He called Sara to explain and she whole-heartedly agreed that he should just rest up in Vegas.
"The kids will miss Hank," he said, coughing through the sentence.
"And you," Sara said, "But don't worry about us. You just get better. And ignore work for a while, okay?" He gave her his word and hung up the phone, falling into bed and oblivion in a single moment.
He awoke only a couple hours later to the ringing of his cell phone and the rumbling of his stomach. He decided to see if there were any groceries at all in the house before answering Ecklie's phone call. He ended up making a pot of chicken noodle soup and lying down on the sofa with Hank taking up watch by his side.
His sleep was disturbed several times and he was eventually dragged from the townhouse altogether by Catherine. He worked with only half of his capacity and still managed to catch the bad guys. He hauled himself up the stairs of his townhouse and onto the couch. When the phone rang again he considered ignoring it, but then looked at the caller ID. He lay back on the couch as he opened the phone.
"Hi," he said.
"You didn't do what I told you to," Sara said mock-sternly.
"I did try, dear," he argued just as mockingly.
"Well, there's a barbeque and Susan and Caleb's tomorrow night. If you're feeling up to it you should try to make it, since you have the night off."
"Okay," Grissom answered.
"Now," Sara ordered, "Sleep, my love."
"Yes, dear."
--
Sara smiled at Grissom as he walked across the lawn at the party. He was wearing khaki shorts and the blue polo she'd bought to match his eyes. If only the team could see him now, she mused. The remnants of his illness were clear, but the sparkle in his eye showed that he had at least gotten a good deal of rest. Caitlyn giggled and reached out for her father as he approached. He reached for her and kissed Sara. He knelt down to let Hank off of the leash. The dog made a beeline for Mattie and Sydle who were thrilled to see him but didn't stop their playing to greet their father. Susan, their hostess approached them, arms extended for Caitlyn.
"I can't tell you enough how much of a blessing your family has been." Susan and Caleb were one of the few families who lived on the lake year-round and their twins, Emma and Elizabeth, had become fast friends with their new next door neighbors.
"Call 911!" Someone cried, breaking the calm mood of the party. Leaving Caitlyn with Susan, both Sara and Grissom ran to the water's edge. They found a teenager struggled to pull a body ashore.
"Leave it!" Grissom said as the teen pulled the young girl onto the sand. He asked everyone to step back and sent Sara to the car for his kit and the camera he kept in it. She asked Susan to take the youngest children inside. She watched to make sure they obeyed then turned to do her job. She handed Grissom the camera, then crouched to examine the body.
"She has to have been in this water at least a week," Sara said, holding a gloved hand to her nose.
"I agree," Grissom said, photographing the body. He turned to the teen who had recovered the body.
"We'll need those clothes, Patrick," he said. The teen nodded and stripped off his shirt. Out of instinct, Sara held out the paper bag, sealed and initialed it.
"Sara," Grissom scolded, breaking her out of CSI mode. She winced, and debated what to do. She looked at the label again and discovered that she'd used her married initials, SG. She handed the bag to Grissom, who turned the S into a sloppy looking G.
"You'd better get inside before you solve this case," he quipped.
"I think I'll keep you company for a little while," she said, "I've missed you, Gil." He looked up to find that she was studying him. He rose and kissed her gently, more intimately than his greeting only minutes before.
They had worked for almost forty-five minutes when they heard the first sirens. Sara gave Grissom a swift kiss on the cheek before handing over the notes she'd taken for him and slipping inside to track down her children. No sooner had the door closed behind her when Catherine and Nick came striding over. Nick chuckled at Grissom's appearance, while Catherine wondered at his presence there at all.
"Nick," he ordered, handing over the note pad, "keep taking these notes for me. Cath, you'd better get started on interviews. These people are getting tired and many of them have small children. They want to get home. Start with them." Each did as they were told.
Nick studied the notes that had already been taken.
"Who did you get to do these?" he asked, feeling like he recognized the writing.
"One of the people in attendance who had some training in forensics," Grissom offered vaguely.
"Why were you even here so fast?" Nick asked, trying to sound casual.
"My mom bought a house out here after she sold her art gallery in California. I like to come out here to relax. I got to know the neighbors and they invited me."
--
Meanwhile, Catherine was talking to Susan about what had happened.
"I'm going to need to interview your guests," she said. Susan nodded, still in shock. Her husband, Caleb, approached from behind, placing a hand on each shoulder. Susan jumped, then relaxed. Caleb nodded up to the clock, which showed it was half an hour past their daughters' bedtime.
"If you'll excuse me, Ms. Willows," Susan said, "I'll leave you in my husband's capable hands. I need to put my girls to bed." She turned and walked through the living room door to the playroom adjacent. Catherine saw her talking with someone else then they left through a second door.
"Mr. Ford," Catherine said, turning back.
"Caleb, please."
"Alright, Caleb. What did you see?"
"I was at the grill," Caleb said, remembering, "Gil had only just arrived and someone called out for someone to call 911. I ran inside and called."
"Can you give me the names of anyone who might have come in contact with the body?" Catherine asked.
"Sure," he looked around the room, "Patrick Dover was the one who found… it." He shuddered a bit at the thought
"Do any of your guests have previous training in forensics?" Catherine asked, wondering who would have the stomach to take Grissom's notes.
"Gil," he said, shrugged his shoulders to indicate that he knew the statement was unnecessary, "and Sara did something for the cops, but she never says anything."
Catherine started, but regained her composure.
"Can you tell me where I'd find Patrick and Sara? In the interest of time I'd like to interview them first." Caleb looked around, pointed out Patrick then looked for Sara.
"She must have gone upstairs to put her kids to bed with ours," he said. The spark of hope which had glimmered in Catherine's heart was doused in that instant. There was no way that Sara Sidle was the same Sara. She thanked Caleb, then turned to interview Patrick.
--
Sara lay Caitlyn down in the porta-crib Susan had dug out for her. She trailed a finger down the little baby's cheek and leaned down to say goodnight. Straightening up, Sara slipped from the room, shutting the door gently behind her. She tiptoed past the twins' room, where Emma and Elizabeth were snuggled into one bed and Sydle and Matthias shared the other. Sara slipped into the living room and
hung back in a corner. She watched Catherine interrogate a group of teenagers, young Patrick Dover and his brother, Peter, among them. She settled in for a long wait.
--
Grissom and Nick processed outside in near silence. Grissom was startled when Nick jumped up suddenly. He spun around to see his little girl, Sydle, walking toward them, dressed in an oversized t-shirt.
"Sweetheart," Nick called, "You need to go back inside. You're not allowed past the yellow tape." Sydle didn't respond, just kept walking. Nick stood and crossed the scene to intercept her seconds before she crossed the tape, sweeping her into his arms. She woke at the contact and started screaming at the top of her lungs and kicking Nick.
"Whoa there, Sweetheart," Nick said, struggling, "You're okay."
"Daddy!" Sydle screamed, "Mommy! Daddy!" Grissom dropped what he was doing and rushed to his daughter's side. He took her from Nick and cradled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened them to nearly a choke hold. Grissom eased back so he could look into her eyes. Her forehead was hot and her hair plastered to it with sweat. Tears trailed down her cheeks.
"You're okay, Butterfly," he assured her, "Remember, you're at Emma and Elizabeth's." She nodded slowly. Nick just looked on, stunned.
"Nick, keep processing the scene," Grissom ordered. He lifted the already drifting Sydle into his arms and carried her toward the house.
He stepped into the house and caught Sara's eye. She was startled but rose from her seat in the corner and came to take their daughter from him. Unfortunately, Catherine also noticed. Her jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide. She stormed over.
"You want to explain this?" she asked.
"Not with a frightened four year-old around," Grissom said, handing Sydle to Sara.
"She was sleepwalking again. You'll want to lock the back door," he added in a soft voice. Sara nodded. Catherine glared at him. Again, Grissom spoke.
"The case, Catherine. Explanations later." Grissom said.
--
Catherine and Grissom stood outside the morgue, waiting for David to set out the body for processing.
"What's her name?" Catherine asked suddenly.
"How should I know?" he asked, his mind still on the case.
"Well, she was stuck to you like cheese to a hamburger, and you used the word again when you talked to Sara about her sleepwalking," Catherine said.
"What did I say about the case, Catherine?" Grissom asked, reproachfully. Catherine shook her head and glared at him. David was ready with the body and so they entered to examine her.
The downdraft airflow system the lab had recently installed did little to contain the smell of decomp that clung to the air. The body in front of them was small, but bloated, the skin discolored. Her hair was long, but stringy and covered with mud. Age was hard to estimate because of her time in the water, but she seemed to be early in her teenage years. Catherine snapped the photos while Grissom collected trace. Catherine stayed mostly silent, barely saying two words to Grissom the whole time.
"Did I do something to upset you?" he asked. Catherine looked at him as though he'd grown a second head.
"Yes, Grissom," she said, "You're stonewalling me! I mean, here I am feeling sorry for you because Sara ran off, leaving you alone again, only to find out tonight that you knew where she was the whole time. Not only knew where she was, but judging by the semi-reasonable travel time, you probably go home to her almost every morning." Grissom's body language conceded that fact. Catherine continued her rant.
"And I find out that you two have a four year old daughter. I'm trying to be friendly and ask you about her, but you shut me out. What is her name?"
"Sydle," he admitted, "Sydle Rose. And actually, she's Sara's niece." Catherine nodded, convinced, and dropped the subject. She volunteered to carry their collected samples to trace while Grissom took the prints to Mandy.
Grissom sat in his office that evening staring ruefully at a photograph of his family. He loved tucking the kids into bed on his nights off. Sara usually entertained the older two with bedtime stories while he bathed and dressed Caitlyn. She was a happy baby, splashing around in the water, giggling away. After she was in bed, he'd tuck Mattie in, but not before playing a hand game or two by the light of his bedside lamp. Sydle was last, she'd snuggle in up to her chin and he'd read to her from whichever book they chose. Currently it was Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. Then he'd turn out the light and recite a sonnet to her as she fell asleep. Then he always checked to make sure the doors were locked tight. Sydle's sleepwalking had presented itself three days after the move to the lake house when she somehow ended up walking into the lake. It was lucky that Sara and Grissom were both home at the time, as they had been taking a moonlight stroll, rather than sleeping. They had pulled her from the shallow waters and had been locking the door faithfully since.
--
This has been on my computer and in the works for quite a while. (Like the day I finished "In His Daughter's Laughter" if that means anything.) I originally intended it to be a oneshot like that one, but my mind has other plans, it would seem.