A/N: Well, these two have decided to wrap up this story…I know this chapter will shock some readers, but as I've always said these two often take their tale in a direction I had never intended…the last chapter will be posted shortly as I am working on it now, home for a sick day…the usual thanks for being so supportive in reading and reviewing apply…this one had me tearful near the end…prepare for one last wild ride…more soon… -Kathy
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Three months later…
He had been sitting here for over three hours.
The sun was setting behind the draperies which had remained closed in the comfortable living room.
The only light shining in the dimness was the answer machine's red message alert.
Gil continued to stare at it solemnly, his eyes removed from it only when they settled on the amber liquid swirling in the lead crystal tumbler clutching tightly in his hand.
Taking another stiff drink, his thoughts were beginning to muddle as the Scotch created its special magic.
Looking down into the depths of the glass he wished would swallow him whole, Grissom licked his lips and spoke quietly,
"At least I can still count on you."
He continued to clutch the glass emotionally, perhaps fearing that in releasing it he would lose his tenuous grasp on his sanity.
What to do? What to do?
His eyes closed and reopened with a sharper focus on the damned blinking light.
Having moved the machine to the end table next to him, Gil clumsily reached over the sofa arm and hit the button to replay the words that had set the world as he knew it into a freefall.
The sound traveled to him as if through a distant tunnel, but the caller's message created an image that was undeniably crystal clear:
"Sara? It's Gabe…I know this number was for emergencies only, but…I tried your cell several times…listen, just call me, okay?...Let me know you're alright?...I didn't like the way you left here...just…remember, your promise okay?...tell him, Sar…it's time to move forward with your life…I- uh…(sigh)…okay…just call me…"
With that the line went dead, and Grissom fell back as if he were following suit.
His heart hammered in his chest as his head fell back heavily on the overstuffed upholstery.
Taking one more gulp of the liquid, the sting of the swallow made him grimace.
Suddenly, his anger flared and he tossed the crystal with such force that it smashed against the hearth of the gas fireplace across from him.
The uncharacteristic release of his emotions caused the welled-up pain to surge forth, and despite his protests the tears began their unrelenting cascade inside the palms of his hands pressed firmly against his face.
"Sara."
The sound of her name caused his shoulders to shake.
Sara.
Oh, god, no.
My Sara.
In love with another man.
A younger man, no doubt.
Someone with good looks, money, all the things she deserved to have a bright future.
No doubt, everything Gil Grissom was not.
On a heave, sobs tore through his shattered frame as he shook his head in self-loathing.
If only…
Oh, Sara…
Wiping his face unsteadily on his sleeve, Gil leaned back to catch his breath.
Attempting to inhale deeply, his body shook with the effort.
The worst part is…I never saw this coming…
He leaned back and closed his eyes, his brain influenced by the half bottle of Scotch consumed since he had returned to the house this afternoon, anxious to share his incredibly good news with Sara.
Sara.
Her name sparked images of their last three months together, having survived the incredible ordeal that seemed a lifetime ago…
The first month had been marked with his lengthy hospital stay.
Sara had been so attentive, so supportive…
His mind replayed the endless days and nights she had cuddled close to him on that hospital bed.
The news of his deafness, the insecurity of the dubious prognosis, the loss of his ability to work at CSI, his decimated plans for a happily-ever-after life with Sara – had caused his depression to move in swiftly and had held him strongly within its depths.
It was as if she understood his need to remain in need of contact to reassure him of her love.
She did love me…perhaps I was just too needy….
After his surgery, he remembered days when she would just sit and hold his hand as the drugs pulled him in and out of awareness.
Dr. Roth had kept him slightly sedated for a few days to ensure minimum movement and increase the chances for the operation's partial success.
Often, Sara would place his open palm on her cheek as she spoke softly.
He recalled the relief he experienced just "feeling" the sound of her voice, knowing that she was sending loving messages of encouragement his way…
Returning to the present, his hand swatted the answering machine again as he tortured himself into listening to the message for the tenth time this afternoon.
"…tell him, Sara…it's time to move forward with your life…"
Gil grimaced slightly.
"I always thought we'd move forward together, honey…"
His head drooped sadly, and after finally looking up again he spied his prescription bottles lined up on the breakfast nook counter.
With a mirthless chuckle, Gil raked his fingers through his hair as he spit out, "Guess I was just a little too broken for you to stay with forever…."
Oh, he didn't blame her.
God knows he loved her for so long and let chance after chance slip through his fingers.
Now that they had survived their ordeal, he had yet to make love to her in the manner he had always desired, and she had always deserved.
Thoughts of her attackers rose uninvited into the equation of his anger, and not for the first time since they'd returned home had his desire for revenge battled to the forefront.
"They'd taken so much from us…she was so broken –" he recalled as he thought about the second month after the situation was resolved.
Once they had returned home from the hospital, Gil insisted that Sara come and live with him on a permanent basis.
Despite his morose, a small smile cracked the corner of his lips.
He remembered her smile as they opened the door of the small frame house he had his realtor rent with an option to buy.
"Oh, Gil!" she had all but squealed, and he would have to admit that her smile helped begin to lift the fog of the depression he had been battling for the last four weeks.
It was the first time since the incident began all those months ago that Gil had seen a glimpse of the old Sara, and fell more deeply in love with this wonderful woman.
She had flung herself into his arms and they stood together over the threshold of their future.
Had that happy day really been only two months ago?
He recalled getting ready for bed that night, tugging on Sara's hand trying in vain to persuade her to join him in the whirlpool tub.
He could tell she wanted to be with him, yet when his grasp on her arm firmed tighter, her voice suddenly raised sharply.
Hearing her distress, Gil immediately released her hand and moved towards her.
His intention had been to comfort her, but Sara interpreted his movements differently and raised her hands defensively, whispering, "Please! Please, don't!"
Horrified, Grissom stopped and shook his head, trying to calm his racing heart.
"Sara! Honey, I'd never…" he closed his eyes before continuing, "Sara…you can trust me, honey…"
With a small sob, she rushed him and he rubbed her back softly until they both calmed down.
"You'll let me know when you're ready, Sara. Don't worry, honey. You're okay…"
Pulling away from her slightly, he looked down into her watery depths and smiled, "We're okay, honey. "
Another hug and then he had disappeared into their large private bath, closing the door quietly behind him…
His eyes now flew open as he recalled coming back into the bedroom after that encounter only to find it empty.
His breathing slowed slightly as he recalled finding her in the kitchen, closing her cell phone as she turned away from him.
Examining that tidbit of memory, Gil began to treat his other memories as evidence.
People lie, but the evidence never lies…
Leaning forward now, his head swaying slightly as the effects of the liquor were increasing, Grissom thought more of the days and weeks following that night.
My head was still bandaged, and in effect I was still deaf.
Sara and I had taken to carrying our cell phones and setting mine on vibrate so that we could communicate easily from anywhere in the house.
Gil cursed himself for how self-absorbed he had been at this time period, wondering aloud if his introspection was what caused Sara to seek a life away from him.
There would be hours when they would just sit silently and enjoy reading together snuggled on the couch, Sara always being sure to keep him propped up against her chest as he rested his body between her legs.
She would always stroke his shoulders in an absent motion as she became engrossed in a novel, or an article on a new forensic technique.
She seemed happy, didn't she? Happy to be near him?
And he hadn't pushed her towards intimacy with him, even though bedtimes often found her with an excuse to finish "just one more" chore, or wanting to read "just one more" page before joining him.
It had never crossed his mind that she was trying to find a way to tell him she was leaving.
He recalled one night that he had just gotten settled when he realized he had forgotten to take his medication and crawled out of bed to head to the kitchen.
Still unable to hear, he assumed Sara could hear him coming down the hallway.
Instead, he apparently had startled her as she stood near the front bay window with the cell phone clasped tightly in her hand.
He moved towards her to apologize for startling her, only to see her quickly wiping a tear from her cheek as she slid the phone closed and into her pocket.
Gil had never questioned her about the phone call, hoping she would feel safe enough to discuss anything important with him.
And selfish prick that he was, he just ignored yet another blatant sign that she was feeling trapped and he was failing to give her what she needed.
Gil cursed himself.
What a bastard I am…no wonder she sought comfort somewhere else…
That night, she had followed him to the bedroom and dressed in a tank top and shorts, surprising him by seeking the comfort of his embrace as he rubbed her back silently.
He could feel her mouth moving in a halting motion, and the soft vibration of a few words tickle his bare chest, but she refused his attempt to raise her head to look at him.
He could see she wanted to say something, but he wouldn't force her.
He'd give her all the space she'd need.
He could wrap himself around her and keep her safe.
It's what he wanted.
He thought it was all they both wanted.
Gil's eyes closed against his bidding as his exhaustion took control, and the terrifying sights immediately assaulted his psyche.
In his dream, he saw Sara – vibrant, beautiful, full of life – wrapped around the naked torso of a man of indiscernible features, but with a body of an Adonis.
In his dream, Sara turned to look directly at him, and in his sleep he gasped aloud at her beauty.
Her hair was tossed as if she had just been thoroughly made love to, her lips were puffy with being overkissed, her breasts pert and pleading for lips to suckle them greedily…
He felt himself harden as if he were a lecher peering at an X-rated film in some backroom brothel.
In his dream, she turned fully to him, spreading her legs invitingly as if to tease him with wanting what he could have had if he hadn't been so damaged.
His fury ignited as he saw large masculine hands sliding over her exposed flesh and stop as they reached the sweetest area between her legs.
At this point, he saw Sara's face turn from him and become hidden from view as her lover's mouth claimed her as his own.
Wanting to claim her for himself, as in all nightmares Gil found himself unable to move, unable to utter a sound, trapped helplessly as he watched his Sara give herself again and again to this much younger lover.
His torment was ripping apart his soul as he tried to call out to her, finally forcing a low moan to emit from his paralyzed lips.
"Sa-ra!"
The action forced his alcohol-deluded thoughts to awaken him, and he took several minutes to shake off the horror of seeing Sara taken from him.
Deep breathing helped return him from his dream state horror to the present, but one glance at the answering machine served as the reminder of today's living nightmare.
He moved slowly from the couch, and dismissed the sound that met him of his footsteps on the hardwood floors.
Earlier today, he had been surprised and excited.
When Sara had nudged his shoulder to awaken him and tell him she was off to do some errands for a few hours as had become her custom, he had merely nodded when she kissed him softly and left the room.
It wasn't until the heavy oak front door creaked loudly behind her that he realized dreamily that he would have to oil those hinges.
A moment later, he sat up, stunned.
He had heard the door close!
Trying to quell his rising excitement, Gil set off to discern if this had been a solitary event or a major breakthrough in his recuperation.
He moved cautiously, but the evidence was proving very hopeful.
Although the sounds were very muted and voices were not fully clear, the radio and TV broadcasts were discernible at elevated sound levels.
Gil moved to grab his cell phone and call Sara, but he stopped.
What if this was just a short-term reprieve?
He didn't want to get her hopes up.
No, he'd call Dr. Roth and get a second opinion.
Then he'd know for sure, and if her diagnosis was positive, he'd come home and tell Sara that they were finally able to move on with their life without having to face the adjustments to his deafness.
"Tell him, Sara…it's time to move on with your life…"
Those words continued to echo through his wounded soul as Gil gulped the bottle of chilled water from the fridge.
Leaning against the sink, he could almost see her standing her with her arms deep in soapy water as she rinse the last glass before tackling the pile of dishes from their last meal here.
It was just last night, he had been helping to dry the dishes.
They had been in a playful mood, and one thing led to another.
He had moved close behind her, allowing his hands to fall from her shoulders where he'd placed them as they shared a laugh.
His fingers now burned as he recalled the feel of her arms, elbows, and the soft intake of her breath as his digits fondled the area just under the hem of her tank top.
She had pressed back slightly allowing him to explore this tiny area, and he had hardened immediately as he pressed her more firmly against him.
Her head had fallen backwards, her hair moved away from her face where she had taken to wearing it these days to cover the healing skin scarred from the final successful attempts at repairing her injuries.
Gil had thought her beautiful, but it seemed Sara had not only wished to hide her face from his view but her body as well.
So many nights he had rolled over to kiss her softly as she slept, the only time she really relaxed as he moved towards her.
Last night, Sara did not pull away but he couldn't miss the fact that she kept her hands submerged in the sink and he now wondered if she had been gripping the sides of the sink to keep her displeasure from being noticed.
Had she given him "one last memory" to cling to before she would return home today and break his heart?
Last night, Gil had whispered his love into her ear, kissing her neck softly as he nipped his way over to her shoulder as his hands moved upwards.
He had reached and caressed her breasts under the thin fabric of her tank top, and smiled as she moaned softly, vibrating against his chest.
Recognizing the need to move slowly, he had stayed there for several minutes before turning her towards him and kissing her soundly.
Her eyes had remained closed long after the kiss, and once again Gil took inventory of her lovely face – looking at the scarring was so second nature to him now that no longer noticed anything but the love for this remarkably courageous woman.
When he looked back into her eyes, he was surprised by the sadness he noticed immediately in their depths.
Thinking that she was worried about disappointing him, Gil pulled her to him softly and said in a tinny voice of those who cannot hear, "Why don't I finish up here, and you go take a shower. I'd like to sit up and read for awhile, hmm?"
Looking at him in a gaze that seemed almost grateful, Sara nodded and started to pull away from him before stopping at the doorway.
Her lack of movement caught his eye, and before he could understand fully she was back in his arms, tightly hugging him and finally looking at him speaking slowly how she loved him, and how she wanted to say thank you - for everything.
Moving back towards the sofa, he sat back heavily as he thought to all the daytime hours they had spent apart in the last five weeks.
Sara would dutifully drive him to the hospital, and he'd leave her for hours at a time either undergoing speech therapy, lip-reading classes, or physical therapy.
He had never asked what she had done during that time, selfish bastard that he was.
Had he really expected someone so vibrant, so lovely, so full of life to just sit around and wait for the doddering old fool while everywhere around her were the temptations of the young?
Gil sighed.
It was always his biggest fear in letting Sara get close to him.
She exposed him to a world where she loved him…and just like Debbie Marlin, she was going to take it away from him.
Gil cursed himself for making that comparison.
Sara was certainly nothing like Debbie…Debbie had been cruel, selfish, and hedonistic.
Debbie had used men to get her kicks, disregarding the feelings of many of the men she bedded.
But his Sara was not like that.
In fact, as he sat here now in the darkness he could see clearly that she was having trouble in telling him that she needed to move on.
She was worried about him.
She loved him, there was not doubt in him mind about that.
She just…wasn't…in love with him.
Gil sighed deeply and brought his hands to cover his face as he tried to scrub the misery away.
His heart felt dead as he began to imagine what this Gabe character was like.
Did he treat her well? She deserved to have someone who would make her feel as special as she was.
Did he give her his full attention? She never asked for much, but deserved the world at her feet.
Did he tell her she was beautiful? She needed to hear it often, even though she didn't really believe it.
Did he love her?
This made Gil gasp on a sob.
I love her.
Enough to let her be happy.
Another sob broke loose.
I think I will die without her.
Just as his despair was hitting rock bottom, Grissom jerked his head up at the sound of their front door opening.