Title: Pride and Prejudice
Disclaimers: Sadly, I do not own anything or anybody related to CSI. Nor the lines I quoted in the story.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it can only be attained through understanding. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Even though Grissom had hoped they could leave the hospital as soon as Sara's discharge papers were signed, the doctor had insisted on a last examination before letting Sara go home. The nurse had promised Grissom that she would take Sara back to him in twenty minutes but that certain promise had been made almost thirty minutes ago. Grissom knew that he was tired and Sara was in good hands, still, this entire situation made him uneasy and he seemed to see lurking enemies at every corner. The man had seen too many crimes to know that some of the cases would have never been a case if the victims or their relatives – or even the police - had taken the risks seriously.
Grissom had been surprised when Sara had agreed easily to go through another series of testing and examination. It was essential for both of them to know what to expect during the course of her recovery. The physician had offered Grissom to be with Sara during their discussion as he was listed as her fiancé but for some reason, Sara had wanted him to wait for her outside.
So here he was – again - in the hallway waiting for her not so patiently but on the other hand, he was grateful for the time - again - Sara had unconsciously given him so thus he could figure out how to tell her about July Harper. About her sister.
He brooded on several ideas as how to spill the beans but somehow neither seemed acceptable nor appropriate. Grissom scratched his beard to gain inspiration from the motion but he was miserable. He tried to imagine the situation.
Scenario number 1:
"Sara, I have some bad news…" Well, having a sister isn't supposed to be a bad thing, don't start it as an original sin!
Scenario number 2:
"Sara, the woman who wanted to kill you is your…" Yeah, sure! Make her family sound like the Adams family.
Scenario number 3:
"Sara! Your Mom had an affair with…" Did you know that your Mom is not only a murdered but a cheater, too? Come on, Grissom! Think!
Scenario number 4:
"Sara, have you even wanted a sister?" Surprise! Here she is…in custody and in a coma. Capital!
Scenario number 5:
"Sara, you've got to know that Greg found a match in CODIS to a person you also know. It's your Mom…" Now, your secret is out. Greg knows about it. Everybody will know about it soon.
No matter how hard he tried to come up with the best way to tell her the truth, the damage was ensured. Sara would have to accept that her mother had had an affair and consequently a child had been born who had tried to kill her own sister even though neither perpetrator nor victim had known about their relationship. Would this fact have changed anything? Had July known about Sara as her sister at all? If so, how could a sister hurt her flesh and blood? And if not, what had been her real motive?
A stinging feeling ran through Grissom. With shaking hand, he dialed Brass' number but after a moment of consideration, he canceled the call. The detective was in July's room questioning her mother, at the moment it was his priority. Grissom could not stop chewing the inside of his mouth; he needed to reach the only man who could access confidential information about Sara.
"Yes boss?"
"Archie. Have you received anything related to the Harper case?"
"Nick brought July Harper's laptop in to…"
"Whatever you find in it, it's confidential, you report to me directly. Only to me, understand?"
"Yes, sir!"
Without any further explanation, Grissom hung up. He wanted to call Greg, as well but Grissom knew that he could trust his loyalty and discretion; the young man had handled his findings confidentially already. And Brass was like a father to Sara, the older man would never gossip about her.
"But what took so long?" he asked impatiently when he checked the clock on the wall.
GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR
Behind the door of Room 105, Brass was listening intensely to the woman whose soul seemed broken irrecoverably. Mrs. Harper was not crying now, she did not even look agitated; the blind woman was rather melancholic and resigned.
At first, Marjorie Harper had been open for a conversation with Brass. A talking that had contained questions and answers but then the woman became quiet and withdrawn. With every thought, she tended towards introspection rather than initiated chat with him. After a heavy period of silence, the woman turned towards Brass.
"I heard that our fates were written on our palms. Never understood why…until today."
"And what did you learn?"
"I know by now that it must be so that way, we can hide our palms anytime. Because the power lies in secrets. And it seems I have been walking with palms up. And now I'm powerless to protect July."
"Is the truth so unbearable?"
.
Why does this numbness come in and out? Why am I so tired? And it's cold in here. Sure, Mom left the air conditioning up again. Mom! Mom! I'm cold. Damn, I'm so dead tired I'm lazy even to open my eyes. But I hear you, Mom. Is this you? Why can't I move my hands? Not even my legs…What's happening? Okay, just a few more minutes…sleep…Truth? Mom, who is this man?
.
"Not the truth in particular but the consequences, Mr. Brass. Just look at my daughter. I had to tell our family secret twice in her presence while God knows if she heard us. Doctors said it was unlikely. I don't know why I should pray for? I never was ashamed of this but William…It's not right to tell my daughter that she is not my biological child when she is in this condition. I don't even know why it is so important to you. Mother should protect their children, but I feel I don't know my own child. I'm in the dark in every possible way."
"We can't prevent every mistake our daughters have done," Brass reacted.
"Do you have children?"
.
Mom! What do you mean? Why are you saying things like this? What condition? What truth? Why protection? I'm not a little girl, Mom! What have you done to me? What have you given to me? I want to see you but I can't open my eyes! I want to ask so many questions but my lips don't work. Mom!
.
"Detective?"
"I have a daughter and yet I have none."
The woman sensed the change in the detective's voice and she understood it immediately. His voice conveyed sadness and undying parental love.
"Mr. Brass, if I had known what was bothering July, why she was so angry, maybe I could help her but I have no idea. This is what makes me crazy. I didn't know she has so much grudge in her to try to kill someone. She scares me."
.
Mom? Is this you? I hear voices but can't understand what is said. What are you talking about? I can't understand you. I don't understand it. Who do you talking about? It can't be me. I couldn't kill anybody…I wouldn't. Mom! What's going on? Help me! Mom! It must be a dream, a nightmare; it must be some kind of a sick joke!
.
"We'll process July's laptop to see if there is anything that can explain her action. She must know the woman she wanted dead."
.
July? Who is July? Who was hit? Hit? By a car? Where does this come from? Mom! Please wake me up. Bring me back. It can't be happening.
.
As Brass was getting ready to leave, neither of them noticed the one single tear running down July's cheek. The monitor showed some intensified activity and the machine beeped faster but to Brass' question as it was normal, the petit woman told him it was natural. After a few minutes later, Brass thanked Mrs. Harper for her co-operation and he wished July all the best, then left.
.
Mom! It is not natural. I'm here, can't you feel me? I'm here, please wake me up. I can't be that July, Mom! Bring me back to life! Mom!
GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR
After the painful check-up, the scary discussion about her way of recovery and re-bandaging the eyes, the nurse pushed the wheelchair down the hallway with a relieved Sara in it. She held a paper bag that contained all of her stuff, such as her broken mobile phone, her way-worn purse and a lead, Hank's lead. Grissom had tried to put that certain item down most in hope Sara would not notice it. Her eyes were still very sensitive, Grissom had not wanted to take any chance to risk her full recovery, and he had known that touching something that had been Hank's would make Sara cry. And tears were their enemies.
Carefully, Grissom helped Sara into his car by letting her take his bent arm then he rounded the vehicle and sat into the driver seat. Grissom placed the key into the ignition but did not turn it.
"Grissom, I didn't ask you to come in with me because…"
"It's okay. You don't have to explain…you…"
"I feared…I didn't know how I would handle the bad news…like my vision never comes back or something like this."
"And you feared I would leave you or think less of you?"
"I'd have been less of a CSI…less of a woman…less of a…without my sight…ah, you don't understand…"
"You think I don't?"
"You're perfect in every possible way but I was already…"
"You were and are perfect. What did the doctor say?"
"Well, he wasn't as sweet as you…he said that I would need to use these eye-drops in every sixth hours for a week then my eyes should be as good as they were before the "accident"."
"So you'll be perfect again?" he teased her.
"I'll see again…let's just say this."
"And you will feel complete again, you'll see."
"You don't know how it feels. The thought of not being able to do my job, not being able to see your face again…it scares the hell out of me. I'm sorry I didn't let you in the examination room…"
"Did I hurt you when I refused your dinner invitation?"
Sudden sadness flooded through Sara, "What?...I wanted to disappear from the Earth, I felt painfully lonely."
"I felt the same while I was waiting for you in the hallway. But I understand you, I understand that you needed time and place to process whatever news you were going to receive. I also needed aloneness. For the same reason…"
"I don't follow you…what?"
"That night…I had a clinic appointment…because of my…I was told that if I didn't agree to a surgery, I was going to lose my hearing. I was as scared I guess as you were now."
A confusing patchwork of bits and pieces of memories that rushed through Sara now made sense. His groundless impatience, his apparent ignorance, his gradual withdrawing from the team and from her…his lip reading and the two-week long sabbatical now all made sense. And Grissom had had to do it all alone. Why had he not told her?
"Why?" she whispered but Grissom heard every word and knew their meaning.
"I feared…I didn't know how I would handle the bad news…like my hearing never comes back or something like this…I dreaded that in your eyes I'd have been less of a CSI…less of a man…less of the Grissom you loved."
"How could you be this stupid? I'd have never…" but then she recognized her own words from minutes earlier and she closed her mouth just to open again. "Are you alright? Really? Truly?"
"I'm perfect…you said yourself."
An overwhelming need to feel him made Sara turn towards Grissom and without an indication of what she was about to do, Sara reached for his ears but she miscalculated her touch. For some silly reason, she had thought that Grissom was looking down and not at her, so in normal "Grissom" case, she would have touched his ears but this time, according to his painful cry, the man was looking straight at her.
"Well, who will drive because you blinded me…"
"Oh, God! Sorry…I'm…"
Before Sara could have sunk deeper into her worry, he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers, one by one.
"Then let's buy these drops okay? Maybe I need some, too."
"Can you drive?"
"I still have one eye…"
"Griss?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm glad you're here…with me."
"And I'm sorry I pushed you away then…"
"You didn't success…I'm still here."
This time, Grissom started the engine and they finally left the parking lot. After about ten minutes, he pulled into a parking lot again.
"Give me those prescriptions, we are at a pharmacy. Wanna come in?"
"No, I'll wait here."
Grissom did not really like the idea of her being alone. But he did not want to scare her with his concern when she was already very insecure. He tried to suppress his paranoia as much as he could.
"What day is it?"
"Saturday. Why?"
"The first salary in months that…"
"Yes, no more transfer to DigiZoom," his voice practically smiled at Sara that she felt and smiled back at him.
"Here," she pushed the paper bag to his lap, "take my credit card."
"I can buy these, it's unnesse…"
"Grissom, I still have to pay back so much to you, it is the minimum I buy my own medication now that I have enough money to do so."
"I don't know your pin code," he tried a trick.
"1957"
"Really? I was born in…oh."
"Use it big boy…please."
About fifteen minutes later, Grissom got back into the car. He threw the small bag into the backseat and started the car once again. They were not driving for twenty minutes when the car stopped again.
"Arrived?"
"Not yet. The other pharmacy didn't have both eye-drops, so I will see if this one has it. Are you okay for another ten minutes?"
"Sure. I'll snooze a little."
She did not know how long Grissom had been away but Sara woke up to a low thud of the trunk. Instinctively, she reached up to rub her eyes but received a sharp pain in return as a rude reminder of her injuries. For a moment she held back her breath to hear the noises and to recognize their sources better. Sara could not explain why exactly she was afraid but she could not deny the fact that her senses were on high alert since the hit.
"It's me, dear!"
"Yeah…I know," she tried to sound casual.
"I won't let anyone hurt you again, you don't have to worry."
"I think you are worrying more than me," she smiled.
"And as always, you're probably right."
"What the hell did you buy that much?"
"What do you mean?"
"You opened the trunk and then put…um two bags in the backseat."
"Hey, your skills as a CSI are intact, my dear!"
"My skills maybe…but I must look like a huge fly with these bandages…I will scare Herbie," she complained.
"Did I miss the day when beauty was defined as something purely visual? Because I swear, my dear that I've heard beauty, and felt, tasted, and smelled some things that I would definitely call beautiful. However, I used a synonym for it. I simply called it Sara Sidle."
"You won't distract me with these awesome words Gilbert Grissom. No, really…what are those bags?"
"I bought some stuff for myself."
"Are you ill?"
"Too many questions…"
After Grissom had loaded the car, he got in it again and maneuvered the big vehicle towards his destination. Relatively soon, they arrived home.
"Wait, I undo your seatbelt."
"Thanks but I can do it."
"Wait, I help you out!" and he was already springing to the other side of the car.
Grissom took her hand in one of his own and placed his other one onto her head to prevent an accidental bump. Sara was out of the car but she did not release his hand, instead, she squeezed it a little.
"Thanks."
"Wait here, I'll take the packages."
"Give me some."
"No."
"C'mon, let me help. I can carry some small bags."
"No, I said you wouldn't carry anything, and I meant it."
Sara pulled a face, it was Grissom, the authority but she felt bad about just standing there, "Grissom!"
"Miaow."
At the voice of a cat, Sara quit arguing. Could it be her sweet cat? In Grissom's car? No way. I started hallucinating, she thought.
"Grissom?" she tried again.
"Yes?" he tried to save the situation but Herbie answered again.
"Where are we? Why is Herbie in your car?"
"Sara, just come inside and take a nap, then we'll talk."
"Inside? Where is 'inside'?"
"My place."
"Your place?"
"I wouldn't worry that much if I know you're in my house…in your condition…"
"In my condition?"
"Sara, please, let's just go inside and…"
"So you were up in my flat to pick up Herbie. He is one of the packages you put in the car."
"Yes, and I packed some stuff for you, as well."
"Okay, that is the second pack. What is in the trunk?"
"I packed for longer staying…I wanted to ask you to move in with me earlier, not…not in this parking lot or this way…but you have to know that…"
"Maybe we should discuss it inside indeed."
Sara felt shy in his home. She had already slept here some times, but the place felt foreign to her. The woman lost orientation immediately. She did not seem to remember where the kitchen or the bedrooms were. She did not seem to recall where his huge couch stood.
Right after Grissom had closed the door, he let Herbie out of his carrier. The cat stayed in his crate, though. His eyes were wide and his posture suggested that the new surrounding made him insecure. Cats had a tougher time adjusting to new surroundings than they had in adjusting to new people. A change of home could turn even the best-behaved cats into a snarling, aggressive beast that was paradoxically fearful of its surroundings.
"What is he doing?" Sara asked and reached for Grissom as she was as lost as her cat.
"Sitting in his carrier."
"He needs time, Grissom."
"Miaow."
"Now, at least this is a good sign. He answers."
Grissom escorted Sara to his couch so she could sit there, "Just stay here, I pick him up and take him around the house."
"No, just keep him here. Too many impulses might freak him out. We'll introduce the rooms gradually to him. Just close the windows okay?"
Sara knew what Herbie might experience because she felt the same way as the tiny feline. Everything was so new and foreign for them; new situations could be very frightening for both human and animal.
"Ok. Now Herbie, you can explore my house at your own pace. Have fun and leave my pets alone!"
"What pets?"
"The roaches…but don't worry, they are in a terrarium."
"Gil, just come and sit here."
"You ok?"
"Please tell me what is going on."
"What do you mean?"
"You're the most intelligent person I know so don't act otherwise. Why do you want me here?"
"Because I love you and I already wanted to ask you if…"
"Don't get me wrong. I know how you feel," she tried to hide her blushing face, "but you're not a 'move in with me' person, not this…um… hastily."
"First, you can't see, secondly, I really want you here. It's safe."
"Okay, I'm blind so it is not logical to take me in an unfamiliar place, I'm glad you want me here but there is a difference between staying with you for a while and moving in with you. And is it safer than my own home? Why? You even take Herbie here, come on, tell me why!"
"Is it so unbelievable that I want you to move in?"
"Grissom!"
"Miaow," and the cat sought refuge on her lap. For a moment, he inspected Sara's face. Herbie noticed the difference but could not imagine what those huge bandages could be and why they were there. He climbed up to smell her face and those strange things on her eyes, she was the same so with a low purring, the cat formed a ball in her lap and started his usual music.
"Gil, you know something about me that I don't. I think it's not fair! You practically smuggled me here."
"Until we know why exactly July Harper wanted to hurt you, I won't let you back into your own flat."
Okay, I didn't lie after all. This is part of the truth, too.
"But that woman is in coma what harm she could do? However, I could punch her for killing our dear Hank," she said while her lower lip started to tremble. "I didn't even know her. So why? Grissom, I never wished any bad thing to anybody, but my Hank is dead while she's just…sleeping. She hated me? Now I hate her, too. What kind of a person is this July Harper?"
She is your sister, Sara. But he did not form the words; he did not dare to do so. Not now anyway.
"Please forgive me, Grissom. Please forgive me! Oh, Hank."
This was exactly why he did not want to tell Sara the details of the investigation. Her eyes were still too sensitive and Grissom knew how the developments would affect her. He was not about to take any risks. The facts would not change in a few days but her condition could improve significantly. He just had to keep her safe. In the meantime, he would have to find out how to tell Sara the truth. And maybe, it was time to take Hank home, too. Together, they could beat every ordeal. Together, every truth could be bearable.
Everybody sought the truth in hopes the truth would rescue them from their own demons. Some looked for it to help, some hunted for veracity to let the help go. But neither knew that it was not the truth that set them free but the faces of their beloved who were waiting for them at the end of the road to the truth. Some went after it by themselves, some did it with help. But what they wanted to know so desperately, was it really the truth? Was it really what they longed to know? Or just something that might make them stronger or take their self-esteems away for good?
GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR ~ * ~ GSR
The first sin would not be exoneration from blame of other sins. The first sin would harden the heart the most. Whatever bad happened to a man in his life that horrible thing probably had been lurking in the bush for a very long time. To escape the inescapable, it was never enough to just confront life and hide the lies or stop the time, the guilty must return to the beginning of the beginning. To find the right page in the book of his sinful life, he must sit down for a minute and remember in order to be able to confess. To confess to himself at least.
William Harper was sunk down into a large armchair with his laptop in his lap. His office was dark and unfriendly. It showed nothing about its owner, there was not a picture of the Harpers, there were no personal items on his desk. Everything was about work, his work.
But for the first time in years, William Harper was doing personal business. He was reading articles about a woman he had not talked with for long-long years. Finally, he started to type in at the LexisNexis Total Research System.
Laura Sidle, 1984, Modesto, CA
As he read the information, his eyes slowly closed. At first, it said Laura Sidle with 2 children. They had not known at that time what he had already known. She had had two children…and one on the way. And they had not known one more thing.
.
Hotel Rubin Hotel, Modesto, CA. November, 1983
"Billy, do you love me?"
"Laura, we've talked about this. Love is not our things, right?"
"I know…but things changed. Don't you feel it?"
"Laura, I have a wife. You knew this when we started it. It's about having fun, great sex. Noting else."
"You don't feel anything for me?"
"I like you, really like you. Don't complicate it."
"Why do you never ask about my bruises?"
"I don't want to know how you got them."
"You don't want to know or you don't care?"
"Laura, don't go there…"
"Look, I'm not asking you to marry me; I know my place in your life…"
William Harper stood up and paced the little hotel room. Suddenly he stopped and turned to the woman whose eyes begged for help.
"Then what do you want? I have a wife, my social life…my status doesn't tolerate an affair…"
"Billy…"
"No one calls me Billy. I'm William! What do you want? You have nothing to lose; I have everything to lose!"
"I have two kids to lose…my husband…"
"What? I didn't know you are married. Damn it! If I had known…"
"You would have gotten what you wanted. You would have started this just the same…please help us…help my children."
"Stop this! It's not my business. I…I don't want to get involved…it's not my business."
And with these last words, he flew from the room leaving the desperate and scared woman behind.
.
William Harper's car, Modesto, CA. December, 1983
"Hallo."
"Billy?"
"Laura?"
"Can we meet? It's…very important!"
"Laura, I don't think we should…"
"I'm pregnant."
"No…no...no…no! You won't..."
"Billy, please help us. Thomas will kill me if he…"
"Tell him it's his."
"Come one, he's always drunk but not stupid. We…well…we weren't…we haven't slept together for ages."
"What do you want from me?"
"I don't know. My children are in danger…already and if Thomas gets to know about this baby…he'll beat all of us."
"Haven't you heard about abortion? Or Laura, go and ask help from the police. I gotta go. Don't ever call me again."
"I might deserve what I get but Andrew and Sara do not. Nor does this baby."
"Laura, your are their mother, and therefore, it is your job to protect your kids. Your husband won't kill you if you kill him first! Protect your children, Laura."
And he hung up then his first destination was the mobile company's costumer service to change his number and make it unlisted.
Once a man lost his innocence, he would not get it back, no matter how much he regretted what he had done. William Harper opened his eyes but he closed it again. The reality was too blinding. He still remembered the feeling when he had read the newspaper the next morning after that awkward phone call.
Abusive husband was stabbed to death
According to the article, the case had been crystal clear. No one had investigated further. The woman had protected her children and herself. Within a week, Marjorie and William Harper had moved to Las Vegas.
TBC
