DISCLAIMER: Not mine, okay? Don't own the characters, don't own the show. I do, however, take full blame for the quality of this story.
I'm not even going to try to explain why it's been almost two months since chapter seven. Just accept my apologies, and let's move on with the story.
~*~*~*~*~
"I shouldn't be doing this," Sara said to Stephanie as she drove.
"But I'm glad you are. My dad would never take me." Stephanie stared out the window and clutched her purse in her lap.
"Are you sure you want to go?"
"Sara, if you don't take me to see my mother's grave this week, it's hard to tell how many more years I'll have to wait. And I've waited my entire life."
"Okay."
They drove in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Sara said, "You were a beautiful baby."
"That's what everyone says. I wouldn't know."
"What do you mean?"
"I've never seen a picture of me as a baby. I've never even seen a photo album in my house, Sara."
"What?" Sara asked, confused. "Your house was full of photo albums."
"It's not now."
"Okay. I have pictures. But they're not with me, they're at my apartment."
"Don't worry about it," Stephanie said. "Anyway, I really appreciate this."
"No problem. I've been wanting to come back for years myself."
Sara parked the car and she and Stephanie got out of the car. It was a warm day, almost too warm.
"Where are we headed?" Stephanie asked, looking around her.
"That general direction," Sara replied, pointing to their left.
As they followed the path deeper into the cemetery, Sara could feel herself slipping back into the mind of the young woman she had been the first time she was here. The confusion, the panic, the fear and regret and pain. She stopped and leaned her arm on a tree for support.
"I can't do this, Steph. I'm sorry."
"What's wrong? Are you sick?" Stephanie asked, stopping.
"No. I just...I don't have anything to...I don't want to go. If you need me to come with you I will, but if you can go by yourself I'd rather you did."
"We can go back to the car, Sara."
"Never mind. I told you I'd bring you here. I'll be fine. Let's just keep going."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Stephanie."
A few minutes later Stephanie placed a bouquet on the otherwise bare grass in front of her mother's tombstone. When she turned around, she found Sara unconscious in the grass.
~*~*~*~*~
Greg locked his apartment door and checked his answering machine.
"Greg, hey," a light female voice said. "This is Cynthia, hope you remember me." She laughed then. He loved her laugh. And he very much remembered her. "Anyway, wanted to see if you'd like to meet me for dinner or at least more drinks Sunday night, since you said you had the night off. I really want to spend some time with you before I leave town again. Give me a call back, okay? Talk to you then."
"Unbelievable," he said, grinning, as he reached for the phone. He started to dial Cynthia's phone number when he noticed the answering machine was still playing.
"...hate to bother you, but I don't have anyone else I can call. I need someone to drive me back to Vegas. I need out of here. Please call me back at 555-2747, Greg." He hit the talk button on the phone twice, then dialed the number Sara left on the machine.
"Hello, Sidle residence. Joyce speaking."
"Hello, ma'am. May I please speak to Sara?"
"Just a moment."
"Hello?" he heard Sara ask more than say.
"Hi."
"Greg."
"Greg?" he heard Sara's mother ask. This was followed by a slammed door.
"I'm back," she said. "I'm also apparently sixteen again," she added to herself.
"I feel like that all the time," he offered in way of comfort.
She sighed and asked, "Can you come get me?"
"Yeah."
"You don't have anything else to do tonight?"
"What other plans would I have, Sara?"
"Okay...I have to go," she said, and started to sob.
"Sara! Sara, what's wrong?" Greg asked frantically into the phone.
"I don't know. I passed out today, for no reason. I'm back here at my parents' house and my mother's calling me a whore and I'm so sick and weak and I'm worried about the baby and Grissom's in the hospital and they think I did it. I have had no time at all to process the information and I...I just want to go home."
"Shh. Sara. Sara." He felt helpless. He wished he could comfort her. And what was this about a baby? "Give me directions and I'll be right there, I promise."
~*~*~*~*~
Sara hung the phone up and slowly opened the door she had slammed just minutes earlier.
"Honestly, Sara, do you feel better now that you got to act like a child and speak to your friend?" her mother asked.
"No. But I feel better now that I'm going home."
"I can't believe you're just leaving," Stephanie said angrily from the doorway.
"I have to get back anyway. I have to take care of Grissom. I have to get to a doctor and make sure the baby's okay. I need to get somewhere that's a more positive environment, and even Las Vegas with an attempted murder charge hanging over my head beats this place."
"Go, then, Sara!" her mother screamed dramatically. "Leave now, when you have family obligations. Go have your bastard child. And don't ask me for anything." She left the room and disappeared somewhere in the house.
"I should never have asked you to take me," Stephanie said when a few moments had passed.
"This isn't because of going to the cemetery," Sara sighed.
"Things were fine the last few days until today."
"Things are never fine when she's around."
"Was it hard growing up with her?"
"Yes. I have no idea what she thought of me as a human being, but I know she hated me as her child. I was the thing that ruined her life. She's unhappy. I feel sorry for her," Sara said. "I don't want to end up like her," she added, unconsciously touching her stomach. "I don't want to ever do to another person what she's done to me."
"You'll be okay."
"Yeah, when I'm having my boss's baby out of wedlock in a state prison. It will all work out."
"You'd be surprised."
"I hope so."
~*~*~*~*~
Greg pulled nervously into the driveway in front of what he hoped was Sara's parents' house. It was night already, but he'd wanted to get to her as soon as he could.
He noticed some movement in an upstairs window and a minute later Sara came outside followed by a girl who looked about fifteen. Both faces were tear-streaked, and he could not help but notice that the girl was going to be just as beautiful as Sara someday.
He got out of his car and walked around to take Sara's suitcase. He carried it over to the car and put it in the backseat, trying to give the two time to say goodbye. When the girl had gone back inside, he walked over to Sara.
"Are you okay?" he asked her, staring intently in her eyes.
"Yeah," she answered quietly.
He reached a hand up and cupped her chin, lifting her face up and making her look in his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I am now."
~*~*~*~*~
It was early morning when Sara walked down the hall toward Grissom's room. He might not even still be in the same room, she realized. She veered off her intended path and stopped at the nurses' station.
"Hi!" one of the familiar nurses greeted her. "Friend of Mr. Grissom, right?"
"His niece," she answered.
"He's still in his room. Believe it or not, I think he's awake. Must be a family thing. Do you know it's not actually visiting hours?"
"I know."
"I'll see if he wants a visitor."
A few minutes later the nurse returned. "Go ahead in."
"Thank you."
When Sara opened the door to Grissom's room, she was surprised by the picture presented to her. He only seemed slightly paler than he did prior to the accident. He had his glasses on and he pored over the contents of one of a pile of file folders on the table that hung over the bed.
"Sara," he said softly.
"Hello," she said. "You look like you're doing better."
"As long as I don't cough. They're moving me out of intensive care soon. Actually, they were going to two days ago, but something ruptured." He observed the look on her face, and added, "That sounds a lot worse than it was."
"I hope so."
"That was a long sentence for me anymore," he tried to joke.
"Grissom," she started, her voice breaking.
"Sara, what happened?"
"I had a lot of time to think, especially tonight. And I don't want you in my life anymore."
"Sara, what --"
"I still want you in the baby's life, if that's what you want. But I can't take care of you, and I especially refuse to try to maintain a romantic relationship with you. I'm not a masochist, and I wouldn't expect anyone to try to make this work. I'm too emotional, you're too distant, and we'd be kidding ourselves to try anything. I'm sorry. I'll call you soon."
He watched in silent shock as she pulled the door shut behind her.
Distant would be welcome right now, he thought, as the tears started again for the first time in days.
~*~*~*~*~
It's still a Grissom/Sara story, I promise!
Sorry about the lateness and badness of this chapter. There's just been...stuff...going on over here.
Please leave a review, even if you think this most recent installment is lame. I need to figure out what went so horrible wrong with this chapter, because it just does not love me the way the other chapters have. Any ideas for the rest of the story, feel free to share them too. The writers' block has me desperate.
No, that's just the stress and sleep deprivation.
~Amber, March 31, 2002; 5:15 a.m.