Grissom stared at his knee, biting his lip. Sara waited patiently. He got
off the bed, and went to his suitcase, removing his laptop. He returned to
his spot next to Sara and booted his laptop up. The hotel had wireless
connections, so when everything had finished loading, he pulled up the
internet and went to his personal bookmarks. Grissom's finger hesitated
over the 'enter' key; he looked at Sara. "Do you remember when you asked me
why I knew sign language?" "Yes," she replied, remembering also her
irritation and hurt when he refused to tell her why. "Well, the reason I
know it, Sara-my mother was profoundly deaf." Sara raised her eyebrows, her
expression registering her shock. "Oh." she shut her mouth, letting him
continue. "She had a progressive genetic disease called otosclerosis. Heard
of it?" he asked, tentatively. "Uh, yeah, yeah, actually I have. Isn't it,
uh-hereditary?" He pressed the 'enter' key, drawing up a web site with a
diagram of the inner ear and otosclerosis' effects on the stapes, or
stirrup, bone. He handed the laptop to Sara; she read the full web page,
then handed it back. She remained silent, waiting for him to answer her
question. Finally, Grissom took a deep breath. "Yes, Sara; in my case, it
is hereditary." He avoided her eyes. "Oh, Griss." She couldn't think of
anything to say. She knew how devastating it was for an analyst to face
losing one of the five senses. If it where herself in that position.she'd
be terrified. "So.how long have you known?" He shrugged. "About a year."
"Does anyone else know?" "Gerrard." Sara inhaled deeply and blew out her
breath, slowly. "You don't think he'll use it against you?..." "He tried,
when he was investigating us." "God.But, you haven't told anyone else on
the team?" He shook his head. "I don't know, Sara, I..I don't know." "It's
OK. You know you can trust me. I won't tell anyone else, unless you ask me
to." Her kind tone and words did little to comfort him, though that was
their intent. Instead, Grissom felt utterly defeated. The worst thing of
all was the fact that Sara knew, now, that he was weak, he was defected;
how could he ever expect her to think of anything more than an old man with
a hearing problem? How would she ever be attracted to him?.. How could he
expect her to want to share a life, a relationship, when he was damaged
like this? He could get a stapendectomy, he could be repaired. But the fact
of the matter, he reasoned, still remained that Sara was young, beautiful,
vital, perfect. He was the opposite of all those things. If he where to ask
her to be with him, then she would miss out on so much, and so would some
other lucky man. Grissom's heart tensed as he thought of the paramedic
she'd supposedly been seeing. She deserved someone young and healthy, like
that man.
He looked away from her, not wanting her to see the tears that stung his eyes. "Grissom? Is everything OK?" He cleared his throat, composing himself. "Yeah. So.now you know. I'll likely have the surgery sometime this year. It's just a matter of when my doctor says it's time." He forced a smile. "And there you have it." She nodded slowly. "I don't know what to say.I'm sorry this happened to you." He shrugged, smiling. "Ce'st la vie, such is life. You know that; we see it everyday. Bad things happen to all types of people." "Yeah, but it's just.this is YOU...So, if you have the surgery, you'll be OK, right?" "I think so." He shut off the laptop, closing the screen. They sat in an uncomfortable silence. Sara longed to hold him, reassure him. Grissom longed to be held, longed for her arms around him. But neither of them said, or did, anything.
Finally, Grissom said, "Well.I would appreciate if you wouldn't tell the rest of the team just yet-I know you won't." Sara nodded. "Of course, absolutely." "And, again, Sara-I'm so sorry that this all happened. But. thank you, for pulling me away. You saved my life." She shrugged, looking at a fray in the bedspread, picking at it with her fingers. "I would've. Anything. Anytime. Grissom.. " She turned her body toward him, placing her hand on top of his, in between them. He stared desperately into her eyes. God, how he wanted her! He'd never felt anything like this before, ever. He turned his hand underneath hers, sliding his fingers up her palm, up her wrist, caressing the underside of her forearm. Sara's heart pounded, her lips parted, waiting. Grissom inched his lips closer to her own. Her eyes were so lovely... 'STOP, Gil.' The internal voice yelled, and just as quickly as he'd begun, Grissom obeyed the voice. He quickly pulled away, feeling so many things at once that he couldn't feel anything at all. Sara's heart sank. She turned and swung her legs over the edge, hands on her knees, leaning over the edge, back to Grissom. 'Not again,' she thought, 'this is torture. Damn it, Gil, damn it.' Finding the strength to speak, she rose and said shakily, "Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning, then." She looked in the mirror above the generic hotel desk at Grissom; he was stiff and silent, hands clasped in his lap, looking down. His head barely moved in a nod. Sara's face trembled. The invisible barrier they'd spent all day breaking down, she could feel it being quickly built up again. Why? Why did this continue to happen?...
Grabbing her wind breaker off a chair by the door, she walked out of the room as fast as she could without running, not wanting him to see her break down. She slammed the door behind her, harder than she'd intended. Stunned by the resounding 'SLAM' that echoed down the corridor, Sara stood in front of it, staring at the white door with the gold numbers, staring as if she could see the man inside. The image of his eyes, full of desire, boring into hers, was blazed onto her brain. Feeling as if her heart were literally cracked in two, Sara placed her hand on the door, and broke down. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she stood in front of his door, leaning on her hand, face a twisted mass of tears and pain.
On the other side of the door, Grissom sat on his hotel bed, head in his hands, utterly defeated. He couldn't remember when he'd felt an emotional pain like this. It was as if his heart were literally cracked in two.
He looked away from her, not wanting her to see the tears that stung his eyes. "Grissom? Is everything OK?" He cleared his throat, composing himself. "Yeah. So.now you know. I'll likely have the surgery sometime this year. It's just a matter of when my doctor says it's time." He forced a smile. "And there you have it." She nodded slowly. "I don't know what to say.I'm sorry this happened to you." He shrugged, smiling. "Ce'st la vie, such is life. You know that; we see it everyday. Bad things happen to all types of people." "Yeah, but it's just.this is YOU...So, if you have the surgery, you'll be OK, right?" "I think so." He shut off the laptop, closing the screen. They sat in an uncomfortable silence. Sara longed to hold him, reassure him. Grissom longed to be held, longed for her arms around him. But neither of them said, or did, anything.
Finally, Grissom said, "Well.I would appreciate if you wouldn't tell the rest of the team just yet-I know you won't." Sara nodded. "Of course, absolutely." "And, again, Sara-I'm so sorry that this all happened. But. thank you, for pulling me away. You saved my life." She shrugged, looking at a fray in the bedspread, picking at it with her fingers. "I would've. Anything. Anytime. Grissom.. " She turned her body toward him, placing her hand on top of his, in between them. He stared desperately into her eyes. God, how he wanted her! He'd never felt anything like this before, ever. He turned his hand underneath hers, sliding his fingers up her palm, up her wrist, caressing the underside of her forearm. Sara's heart pounded, her lips parted, waiting. Grissom inched his lips closer to her own. Her eyes were so lovely... 'STOP, Gil.' The internal voice yelled, and just as quickly as he'd begun, Grissom obeyed the voice. He quickly pulled away, feeling so many things at once that he couldn't feel anything at all. Sara's heart sank. She turned and swung her legs over the edge, hands on her knees, leaning over the edge, back to Grissom. 'Not again,' she thought, 'this is torture. Damn it, Gil, damn it.' Finding the strength to speak, she rose and said shakily, "Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning, then." She looked in the mirror above the generic hotel desk at Grissom; he was stiff and silent, hands clasped in his lap, looking down. His head barely moved in a nod. Sara's face trembled. The invisible barrier they'd spent all day breaking down, she could feel it being quickly built up again. Why? Why did this continue to happen?...
Grabbing her wind breaker off a chair by the door, she walked out of the room as fast as she could without running, not wanting him to see her break down. She slammed the door behind her, harder than she'd intended. Stunned by the resounding 'SLAM' that echoed down the corridor, Sara stood in front of it, staring at the white door with the gold numbers, staring as if she could see the man inside. The image of his eyes, full of desire, boring into hers, was blazed onto her brain. Feeling as if her heart were literally cracked in two, Sara placed her hand on the door, and broke down. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she stood in front of his door, leaning on her hand, face a twisted mass of tears and pain.
On the other side of the door, Grissom sat on his hotel bed, head in his hands, utterly defeated. He couldn't remember when he'd felt an emotional pain like this. It was as if his heart were literally cracked in two.