Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. It's on my Christmas list though.
I had to write this. I seriously had to. It just wouldn't let go of me after I read the spoilers last night. This also was partly inspired by the songs "Gravity of Love" and "The Screen behind the Mirror" by Enigma.
In the eye of storm you'll see a lonely dove
The experience of survival is the key
To the Gravity of Love
- Enigma
The Experience of Survival
"We found her. She's alive."
His fingers anxiously drummed a beat on the steering wheel as he stopped at a red light, willing it to turn green. They had found her and she was alive. If he was honest with himself, he had almost given up on her. His own logic told him so. She had been kidnapped by a psychopath and had, no doubt, been left to die in the desert. She'd had a one in a million chance to survive. But she was safe now, she was at Desert Palms and she wasn't dead.
The light turned green and he sped off, not caring about the speed limit as he wound his way through traffic and into the hospital parking lot. His knees almost gave out on him as he jumped from the car and hurried towards the entrance.
Catherine was waiting for him by the reception desk, pacing nervously. Her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying and the knot in his stomach tightened.
"How is she? Where is she?" he managed to ask breathlessly.
Please don't tell me she died, please…
"In surgery, they… There was internal bleeding. God Grissom I thought she was dead when we found her. If we had been…"
"Don't. Don't go there, please." he interrupted her, running a hand through his hair. He needed to focus, needed to settle down and think.
"Did they arrest…?" Catherine trailed off, not willing to say the serial killer's name, as if it was a bad word, would tempt fate into taking a life. Sara's life.
"Yeah, they put her away. How long has she been in surgery?" he changed the subject quickly, didn't want to talk about the person that had done this to Sara.
"Half an hour maybe. She had trouble breathing; they figured she had some broken ribs." Catherine wrung her hands, crossed her arms in front of her chest and uncrossed them again with a frustrated sigh.
"It's serious, isn't it?" he asked, his voice sounding empty. Catherine looked at him, at his blank face and the eyes that looked like a stormy ocean. He was deeply troubled and was trying so hard to keep it together. She almost wished he'd just let go, cry and scream but it wasn't like him. Instead, he became a shell of himself. As if his mind was on stand-by, unable to operate.
"They're not sure she's going to make it." she said hollowly. Grissom turned away from her, quickly walked along the corridor to process the information, a hand in his hair, before he turned around and slowly walked back to her.
"Okay. She's going to make it. She's strong. She's incredibly strong." he stated as if he was trying to convince himself. Catherine put an arm around his shoulder, willed for the surgery to be over and for Sara to be okay. She didn't want to imagine what would happen if she died. The fallout would be unimaginable.
They waited for what seemed like long hours. Grissom's eyes never left the clock, watching as the seconds ticked by, as the hours washed the minutes away. A feeling of surrealism settled over him as Catherine placed a plastic cup of coffee into his hand. He didn't drink it, let it cool and put in on the stack of magazines beside him. Nick and Greg stopped by on their way back to the lab to process the evidence of her crime scene.
Her crime scene.
They looked at him, wondering if they should come up and say something to him. Grissom had told them about their relationship only yesterday and they didn't know how to deal with it yet. There hadn't been time to deal with this. So they left him with a pat on the shoulder and a pitiful look.
Finally, a doctor entered the waiting room, a small, barely perceptible smile on his face as he wiped a hand across his forehead where the cap he'd worn had left a thin red line.
"She made it. We had some complications due to the internal bleeding but she will be okay. Her left leg is broken in two places and she had some broken ribs that no doubt constricted her breathing but we were able to fix all that. She's sleeping now, probably will be for a while. She was really lucky. Had you found her any later I doubt there would have been anything we could have done." He smiled a sympathetic smile at Grissom and nodded to Catherine.
"Thanks doctor. Can we see her?" she asked. The doctor nodded and motioned for them to follow him.
Grissom trailed behind Catherine and the doctor; he needed to see her to believe that she was still here with him. Words were meaningless; he needed to touch her to feel that there was life in her.
She's going to be okay…
He rounded the corner to her room and his eyes settled on the bed. There she was, with her eyes closed and her arms resting on the covers. A tube ran out of her mouth, one of her wrists was bandaged and more tubes ran from her hand and her arm. She looked so frail, her face ghostly pale. Even her lips were pale, slightly parted and her hair seemed lifeless and dull resting on the pillow. Only the steady rise and fall of her chest told him that she was alive.
Slowly he walked over to the bed, sat down in the chair beside it and reached out a hand to touch hers. It was warm and almost surprised him. Relief washed over him, he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
Alive… warm and breathing and alive.
"Can I stay with her?" he asked the doctor, still standing at the foot of the bed with Catherine.
"Certainly. She'll be happy to see a familiar face when she wakes up." The doctor left them and after a long moment in which Grissom ignored Catherine, she coughed slightly.
"I'm going to head back to the lab, help the guys process the evidence. Call me if you need me. Call me when she wakes up."
He nodded, barely acknowledging her. She left quietly, throwing one last look at the woman on the bed. Thank goodness she was going to be okay. There was a new found spring in Catherine's step as she walked out to the car.
Grissom watched Sara's chest rise and fall for hours. His eyes traveled over her body as if he was trying to assess where she was hurt, what parts of her body were broken.
Nurses came and went, checking on the beeping machine next to her, throwing him small smiles. His arm fell asleep as he held her hand but he refused to let go. The memories of pleading with that damn psychopath returned to him.
Just tell me where she is…
A sigh escaped him, he had been so worried, so frustrated. Somewhere in his mind the thought had manifested itself that the last thing he'd ever hear from her was "I'll call you later" and he had tried to think about what life would be like without her. It was a thought he'd had trouble with. Life without her seemed impossible, it seemed empty and hollow. As empty as it had been before she'd entered it.
Grissom settled back in the chair, never letting go of her hand. He closed his eyes, needed to rest for a moment. He never did get to fall into an uneasy sleep. Feeling the small tug on his hand, his head snapped up and he leaned forward, looking down into wide-open, terrified eyes. She was trying to breathe and she was choking on the tube in her throat.
The nurses came before he had to call for them, pulled out the offending tube and helped Sara settle down. Her eyes, chocolate brown and scared, never left his.
Grissom stood back, let the nurses check on Sara, let the doctor speak to her briefly as she nodded or shook her head depending on the question he asked. Finally, the nurses and the doctor left, leaving them alone again.
He sat down beside her on the bed and took her hand in his.
"Hi." he whispered softly, brushing back a strand of her hair. She smiled, her throat too dry to speak. Grasping the plastic cup beside her on the table before she even had to ask for it, he held it to her lips. She slowly but greedily sipped the cool water and he was reminded of how long she'd been out there in the desert. All alone.
"I'm so sorry." he said quietly, putting the cup back on the table. She shook her head, her eyes clouding over as she pulled him closer.
"Not your fault. It wasn't… your fault." she said hoarsely, her breath warm on his face.
He still felt guilty, felt guilty for everything he had ever done wrong with her. He would have to make so many things up to her; they would have to work things out all over again. And he was looking forward to that; he was looking forward to their future.
"I love you." he whispered, stroking her cheek softly as she smiled at him.
The rest of the team stood in front of the window, having been summoned by the doctor, and watched as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. Wonderfully chapped and alive; she was alive and she was going to be okay.
They were going to be okay.
The End.