A/N: Thanks for reading! Remember, as long as you read fanfiction, GSR is alive and well!
Needing You
Chapter 12
When Will was born, Sara had been at home until she went into labor; she and Grissom had experienced the methodical flurry of labor and delivery with a surprised enjoyment. She had experienced the euphoria of motherhood claiming a place in her heart, had watched as her husband had been brought to tears as he held his son. Nurses had learned her name instantly and intimately; her physician came and went with happy and encouraging words. And after a few hours of labor, Will had arrived—the most beautiful baby Sara had ever seen—and had immediately smitten both parents.
This was a different experience—a tightly scripted plan that had swelled to include several neuro specialists and a NICU team. Sara was prepped and cleaned, stuck with tubes and IVs, tested and monitored from head to hip, draped and screened for the surgical delivery of her baby. She thought it was unusually quiet when compared to her previous experience of childbirth.
Grissom, dressed in a blue gown that matched his eyes, managed to find a place for his hand to rest against her cheek. And he kept talking as he tried to distract her from all that was going on.
Finally, after all of the preparations, procedures and processes, Sara heard someone say "She's ready."
Her doctor said, "Sara, are you ready to meet your daughter?" And before she could reply with more than "yes", she actually felt a slight tug followed by a collective satisfying sound from the people around her.
Grissom whispered, "She's here!"
An unusual quietness, even more so than before, seemed to last for long minutes before the obstetrician said, "Cleaning out her airway—just another minute."
Grissom had risen to a standing position to see over the screen and Sara realized everything was okay because of the crinkles at his smiling eyes. And then she heard a cry, sounding more like a kitten than a baby, but a definite cry, and very quickly her small pink daughter was placed on her chest. Her fingers touched skin that felt like soft silk, petal soft. Her husband's hands easily cradled the tiny infant.
Sara pulled the baby closer to her face, taking in the scent of human life in its beginning. "Don't be frightened!" She softly crooned; her only thoughts centered on how small and fragile the baby looked. Then the baby's eyes blinked open—large, glacial blue.
"Oh, she's looking at us, Gil—as curious about us as we are about her."
For a few minutes, Sara was aware only of her own voice and that of her husband as they gently and carefully examined their new-born daughter, saying the words of every joyful parent.
Very cautiously, Grissom took a small hand between his fingers and kissed his daughter, the top of her head, her forehead.
"We'll need to take her for a few minutes," someone said. Gloves hands gently lifted the baby from Sara's chest. "I'll bring her right back. Do you have a name picked out?"
Grissom smiled; Sara said their chosen name.
"That's a beautiful name!" The nurse said with a smile as she took the small baby with her.
With her daughter across the room, Sara realized how tired she felt. Suddenly, without warning, her head dropped back; she could hardly keep her eyes open. She heard Grissom, concern in his voice as he asked what was happening.
A male voice said, "She's fine—just a little dip in blood pressure. Breathe, Sara, are you breathing?"
"I'm fine," she whispered. "Just a little excited." Within seconds, she was no longer weak as a mask was fitted over her nose and mouth. Waves of euphoria returned. She smiled. "We have our family, Gil—a son and a daughter." Then she started to cry.
The clock on the wall said it was after two in the morning but Grissom had not slept. He was stretched comfortably on a firm sofa in his wife's room while she slept. Peaceful at last, he thought. He knew the weeks since her surgery had taken a toll but only today, after their daughter was born, did he see her face regain its natural happiness.
A few visitors had come—his mother, Catherine, Jim Brass, Nick, and Greg—all smiling members of a proud family. Will was being well cared for—Greg and Nick admitted to buying the little boy another sit-upon toy.
"It looks like a bug!" Greg announced as he showed photographs of Will sitting astride something that slightly resembled a lady bug.
Grissom said, "We'll need another one of these before long."
Nick's chest swelled a bit as he said, "Don't you worry about my little namesake—her Uncle Nick will make sure she doesn't lack for any toy!"
When Jim Brass came, a smile spread across his face as he presented Sara with two small boxes. He said, "For our little gem and her mother."
Inside one box was a small gold locket enameled with a very meticulous design of a child on a swing. Even in its diminutive size, the colors were bright—a blue sky, brilliantly green blades of grass and the little figure in gold.
"It's beautiful, Jim!" Sara exclaimed as she held it between her hands.
He leaned forward and kissed her. "It's not every day I can claim a namesake, is it."
Sara took his face between her hands. "You don't mind sharing?"
He chuckled. "I'm happy to share with young Sam. He's going to be thrilled—does he know yet?"
Sara laughed, saying "No, but I've written him a letter." She frowned, "You don't think he'll be upset? Because I didn't ask."
With a chuckle, Jim handed her the second gift. "Sam is going to be in heaven," he said, glancing around to Grissom at the foot of the bed. "Your husband doesn't know about the crush, does he?"
The two men laughed as Sara unwrapped the box finding a similar locket, with another miniature enameled landscape of two golden children playing in a field of flowers, a dazzling sunset sky as background.
"These are beautiful, Jim! Where did you find something so perfect?"
Grissom came to her and fastened the gold chain around her neck.
"I have a friend who makes things like this," Jim said. At the look of surprise on Grissom's face, he added, "I have friends, Gil, some very artistic ones. Not everyone I know totes a gun, you know!" He lifted the locket away from Sara's chest. "And there is a flower for every year I've known you—my friend thought you would like that."
Deciding to leave the room, Grissom attempted to be quiet as he rose from the sofa. He slipped his shoes on, checked on Sara, and left the room. The hallway was quiet—he was sure there was someone having a baby nearby, but this section was reserved for mothers who did not keep their babies with them—there were almost no sounds as he walked. Around a corner and he arrived at a set of windows.
Several nurses were working in the darkened nursery; his daughter was not the only one who needed special care. There was a set of twins, three infants much smaller than his and another much larger baby—he held up a small identifying device and one of the nurses moved to an incubator. She motioned for him to enter.
After covering his clothes with a gown, he went into the parents waiting room, surprised to find it empty, and used the identity device to open another door. Earlier the nurses had spent time orienting he and Sara to visiting procedures—"no rules" the woman explained, "but we have flexible guidelines we have to follow."
As he waited, he looked around at this very precisely controlled environment. The walls were covered with colorful characters but there was no disguising the technology involved in caring for these infants; machines operated with a quiet whispering rhythm, the nurses were almost silent as they worked.
"Here she is," the nurse said. "She's one of our best, you know." Carefully, she placed a bundle much larger than his daughter in his arms. The woman smiled. "It's easier to hold her when she's wrapped up like this."
She showed him how to hold the infant against his chest, telling him "Relax, she won't break and she'll love the feel and sound of her dad." Softly, she asked, "Do you sing?"
Grissom shook his head, not in public, he thought. Not around strangers.
"Then talk to her—tell her stories, just so she hears your voice."
He could talk; he held the tiny baby against his chest and stroked his hand over her head and along her back; protectively, lovingly, and quietly he began to tell her of the world she had entered, where she was welcomed, already loved. He began speaking of her brother who would not remember a time without his sister, of her sweet mother who loved with such furious compassion, of a grandmother who lived in silence but lived so fully.
He closed his eyes and listened to the rhythm of the infant's breathing; she'd fallen to sleep.
The next day, Sara managed to walk around the same corner, entered the waiting area, and sat in a rock before taking her daughter from her husband's hands. Holding the newborn, she felt utterly possessive of the small, helpless baby, differently from the way she had felt holding Will who was so strong and robust at his birth, she thought. Sara smiled; she loved her children in a way that she had never imagined was possible and in these first hours together, she knew bliss, a simple harmony with the world around her.
Grissom slipped an arm around her and kissed her. "Are you okay?" He asked. "We'll have to leave her here—she won't be able to go home with us."
She knew and accepted this fact of a premature birth. Sara's voice was quiet, steady. "I'm fine, Gil. Really, I am." She smiled at him and then looked at the small face wrapped in blankets. "We're going to be fine—all of us." Her fingers reached for the small hand wiggling from underneath the blanket. "Look at what we've made—isn't she beautiful," softly, she laughed. "I'm in love, dear—for the third time in my life." Her finger touched the baby's chin. "And look at this little dimple—just like her father's."
Later in the day, flowers and a note came from the young coroner expressing his surprise and pleasure over Sara's choice of a name for the baby.
After reading the note, Sara asked for the official forms to register her daughter's name. She grinned, "Are you having second thoughts?" She asked. When he shook his head, she printed her daughter's name on the form as 'Gemma Nicole Grissom'. She and Grissom signed the form. "It's official," Sara said.
"It's a perfect name," Grissom said with a chuckle. "Only a few hours old and she has three men wrapped around her very small finger." Raking a hand across his face, he smiled as he realized his mistake. "Make that four men."
For three days and nights, Sara remained with little Gemma. One of the nurses made a crafty name sign for Gemma's incubator that included a photo of Will and her parents.
Brought to the hospital by Betty and Nick, Will was much more interested in showing off his new cowboy boots than in seeing babies through a window. The toddler danced and frolicked in Sara's room using the floor as a stage for clicking the heels of his boots as parents, grandmother, and his best friend, 'Ick' laughed.
When the time came for Sara's discharge, going home without her baby proved to be difficult; a tight aching knot grew in her chest, tears formed in her eyes. But, hurriedly, she untied it, wiped her eyes and forced a smile on her face. Grissom assured her they would return in a few hours as they placed the baby back in the incubator.
Sara looked at her baby, the perfect little face, tiny ears pressed neatly against her head, and the small, almost transparent, fingers that startled occasionally at the sensation of air passing between them. Suddenly, Gemma's lips pursed in an expression that appeared to be thoughtful, as if she had something to say.
Grissom laughed so quickly that it caused the nurses to look at him. His arm was already wrapped around Sara as he tightened his grip. Knowing why he laughed, Sara elbowed him. He said, "How many times have I seen that look?" He leaned over the small baby and chuckled. "You are your mother's child, dear Gemma!"
The complicated threads of life plaited slowly back together as an orderly routine was established in the Grissom home. At first, they went together to visit their baby girl, but soon learned other parents divided the responsibility, shared it with others, so that by the second week, when little Gemma reached the required weight for discharge, they found it easy to embrace the completion of their family from three to four.
A/N: Now, that you know Little Bean's name- review! We'd like to know if the CSI writers have really killed GSR! If so, what next for Sara?
