Chapter Three – My Standard Break From Life

Grissom wanted to know why she had to sit there and watch him. Every move he made, she watched him closely, as if she could look at nothing else but him. He had yet to tell her exactly what thoughts drifted to and from his mind, the ones that involved him wanting for a moment to take his life away, to get rid of the pain that now dogged his life. When he shaved his beard, he could picture the blade slicing the soft, vulnerable flesh of his throat, watching the blood spill over, hot and slow as it fell down his chest. He could envision the damage to his body if he allowed his wheelchair to tumble from the one of the high cliffs that dotted the Nevada desert. Maybe that was why she watched him. Because she knew the thoughts that dominated his days and nights, the ones that often had him laying in Doc's table, his team crying over his cold, blue body. He had visions of his heart sitting still in his chest, the blood cold and still in his veins.

"Stop watching me."

"I'm not"

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

Grissom spun his wheelchair around to face Sara, prepared for a confrontation.

"You are watching me I can feel your eyes on the back of my head. Why are you watching me?"

Sara shrugged and Grissom could feel the anger rising in him.

"I'm not a child."

"Well then stop acting like one."

"I'm not acting like a child. You don't understand-"

"How can I when you don't talk to me?"

Sara had tried to be reasonable, had tried to give Grissom the benefit of the doubt but she was running out of patience.

"You ignore me, you get angry over nothing and yet you expect me to stick around? I can't live like this Gil."

"Well don't let me stop you from making your own choices Sara. You want to go, go."

Sara shook her head and fought the urge to just leave. What kind of person would she be if she just up and left him when he needed her most? But the temptation to just take what happy memories she had of them together and move on was almost more then she could take.

"As much as I would like to go Gil, I can't. I love you too much to watch you destroy yourself."

"Well then how about I don't give you an option. I want you to go Sara."

"Are you sure? Because you can't take back those words after you say them"

"I'm well aware of that Sara. I want you to go."

"Fine. I won't bother you any more Gil, you want me gone, I'm gone."

Sara ignored the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, gritting her teeth as she grabbed her handbag and stormed out the door. Her anger got her as far as her car before the tears began to fall. She had tried, she really had, but what was she meant to do? If Gil didn't want her there, then why should she stay?

Brass had seen many things in his life. Police being shot, innocents dying and murders that cost more then the victims were willing to pay. Grissom's situation touched closer to home then he ever thought that it would. Who would have thought that this could happen to someone so close to you? Brass knew that murder was in the same category, that you don't think that it would happen to you, then it happened in the exact way that you dreaded. He didn't have much to do with the entire situation, not because he didn't want to help but because Grissom pushed him away and so Brass stayed away. He continued to watch as one by one, Grissom pushed his friends away. Brass wanted to do something but he wasn't sure what. Then a knock on his door helped him decide. When he opened his front door, Sara was standing there, her face flushed and swollen from crying, her nose running, exhaustion splayed across her face.

"Sara, what are you doing here?"

"I hope you don't mind Brass, I just needed a friendly face."

"Of course I don't mind. What did Gil do now?"

"He just kicked me out."

"Come in, I'll make you a cup of tea and we can talk."

Sara gave him a brief attempt of a smile, one that fell flat on the floor. She moved into his home, dropping her handbag near the sofa before slumping onto one of the hard back chairs in the dining room. Brass set about making the cups of tea, not bothering with small talk. He gave her what he hoped was enough time to collect herself before he launched into twenty questions.

"So what happened?"

"We argued, he told me to leave, I said no, he said he wasn't giving me a choice and then I came here."

"He just needs time Sara."

"He's had time. I understand that this is hard on him but he keeps pushing me away and I can't live like that."

"But you can life like this?"

"No but what choice do I have? He doesn't want me there."

"Where are you staying tonight?"

"At a hotel."

"You can stay here tonight and I'll go and see him."

"Brass, I don't want you to get involved in this."

"Too late. He needs to get back to reality; he needs to realize that this is his life now, as much as he may hate it. I also know that he loves you and he's pushing you away because he doesn't want you to see him like this."

"Like what?"

"Crippled."

"But he's not. He's lost the use of his legs but why would that make a difference to me?"

"He doesn't see it that way. All he sees is his useless legs and the need to live up to the standard that he has set himself."

Sara shook her head and began to cry. She had cried so much in the last few months that it stunned her that her body had not dried out. Brass put an arm around her shoulders and Sara fell into his chest, her shoulders shaking. She didn't want to lose Grissom but what was she meant to do? How was she meant to stand back and watch the man that she loved destroy himself?

He was more then willing to do it at that point. As soon as Sara had stormed out, he had ordered a cab and was now sitting pretty close to one of the Nevada cliff tops, listening to the wind as it whipped past, the birds squawking and fighting over prey. He could really see himself tumbling over the edge, the pain finally leaving his failing body. It was not meant to be like this. He was meant to propose to Sara, that's what he had wanted to do on the night that he had had the crash that much he could remember. He had had the ring since their fourth date; it was the time he realized he didn't want her to be with anyone else. He needed her and he liked to think that she needed him as well. Now he had nothing to offer her. He had already been insecure about them going out, about what she had expected. She had dissolved his fears and he became confident in their relationship and then he had crashed his car. Now all he had to offer her was a mangled body that housed the soul of a broken man. What kind of right did he have to keep her in a relationship? As far as he was concerned, she was better off without him. Maybe she would meet a nice young man that would make her laugh and give her the children that she wasn't sure she wanted. At least that way she could still choose, rather then be racing against the clock like they had been now.

"I think Catherine would be pretty pissed if she had to clean up your crime scene."

Grissom had been so lost in his thoughts that he had never heard Brass arrive at his side, taking a seat on the hard dirt beside him.

"Have you ever thought about killing yourself Jim?"

"Yes, when life gets too much and I don't think I can take anymore."

"Why didn't you go through with it?"

"Because I have too much to live for, like you"

"I have nothing Jim; I don't even have my work."

"You have friends and a girlfriend who loves you."

"How is Sara meant to love me when I am like this?"

"Because she loves you for who you are not the shell that the world can see. It makes no difference to her. You hurt her Gil."

"And I will continue to hurt her if she stays where she is, by my side, ignoring the fact that we can never be as we once were."

"You know better than anyone that life is never as you expected it to be. You just need to be willing to accept what changes and work with it the best way you can."

"I can't just accept this Jim. I am never going to walk again, I am never going to be able to work and I am never going to be as I was."

"Why is that such a bad thing? Maybe this is actually a good thing for you Gil, have you ever thought of it that way?"

"No, because it's bullshit. How is this good? Please explain it too me Jim because I have no idea."

"I can't explain it too you Gil, you need to figure it out for yourself. Follow the evidence; you may be surprised where it leads you."

Brass stood up and walked away. Grissom stayed where he was, his eyes clinging to the jagged cliff tops and swooping birds. He wished he could be as free as they were nothing to worry about except the basic survival instincts. Hunt, feed, mate and stay alive. To them that was all that mattered, no taxes, no relationships and no promises. Nothing but survival, nothing but the wind that threw them high in the air and the peacefulness that came with knowing who you are and why exactly you were here.

When Brass returned home, Sara was asleep on the sofa. He sat on the chair opposite her and wondered what had become of the woman he admired so much. The Sara he knew would never have stood for anyone's crap, but here she was taking it almost willingly from Grissom. Brass had seen the huge difference that she had made in Grissom's life and he in hers. When they had finally gotten it together, Brass had seen it almost instantly, but stayed quiet as they had. Then this happened and destroyed them both. Now Sara had cried herself to sleep on his sofa and Brass was left wondering just what this meant in the long term for them. He shook off his own concerns and went to his room, locating the old rug that he had gotten years ago from Vietnam, laying it carefully on Sara. It was then that his foot bumped into a bottle and he felt his heart sink as he located a whiskey bottle that she had dropped when she had gone to sleep. Not only had the situation driven Sara and Gil apart, but it had driven her to drink once again.

When Sara woke up, she instantly regretted taking the bottle of Whiskey from Brass's stash. Her head pounded and she was sure that someone had been making her lick a carpet for hours the night before. She stumbled into the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of water, drinking another two before standing became an issue. She made her wake back onto the sofa, pulling the blanket over her head to try and block out what little sunlight there was. She felt like shit and it didn't help that she had broken her own promise to limit her drinking, to try and stay on the wagon that she had just so readily jumped off. It was there laying on the sofa going over the last few months that she sat up with a jolt, her head spinning into orbit. She quickly did a little mental math, trying to keep her stomach from falling as she glanced at the calendar that sat on Brass's wall. She ran her finger over the calendar, doing more mental calculations. Brass walked in just in time to see her sink to the floor, her face ashen.

"What's wrong Sara?"

"Things just got a whole lot harder"