This chapter would have been up sooner – except I couldn't access FF.net
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Sara ran up the stairs; she feared the worst. Her only comfort was that if someone had jumped of the roof, there would have been sirens.
Sirens and CSI's.
Her lungs ached, and she silently cursed the position of Greg's flat.
Images of all the 'jump' suicides appeared in her mind.
The first DB she saw in Vegas was a 'jumper.'
Her muscles began to fill with pain as her respiration switched to anaerobic, and the fear was beginning to make her shake. Her stomach knotted. She was exhausted – her fear was both providing energy, and taking her strength away.
She got to the roof….
….and that's when she saw him.
She'd know that outline anywhere.
The rain was driving down hard. It was so fine, it seemed to drench her in seconds. Each droplet was freezing. It would be morning soon.
And even though she could see him, her eyes began to fill with tears.
She wasn't one to cry.
Crying showed weakness.
She was a woman in a man's world; long ago she'd convinced and conditioned herself to not burst out in tears.
She could tell he was soaked, even from this distance.
She gingerly moved closer.
^*^
Greg was sitting on the edge of the building, legs freefalling. He had, indeed, been up there for quite awhile; thinking about things.
Weighing up options.
"Greg," Sara called softly, the last thing she wanted to do was startle him, or make him feel he was cornered.
She edged closer.
He didn't falter; he either didn't hear her, or had chose not to respond.
"Greg," She called, again, looking to the floor she was stepping on, trying not to make any sudden movements.
She was about a metre behind him. She didn't want to get any closer; first out of fear for herself, and secondly; there was still a small chance he hadn't heard her.
She closed her eyes, and exhaled softly. Her body protested, it was exhausted. She needed to sit down….
…And although all the warning signs screamed in her mind, she edged closer, and slowly sat beside Greg, but instead of hanging her legs over the edge, she sat with her back to the landscape.
"Hey," she said, she could see his face.
He looked like he'd been crying…
…but it could have been the rain.
He gave a very fain smile, without looking at her, just to acknowledge her presence.
She searched her mind for words to say, she had no idea how to act, so she just began to speak, and only hopped she said the right thing.
"You know I come out to the roof sometimes; get away from it all." She said, trying to sound upbeat, but failing. "But.." her voice began to crack, "usually it's day time, and I don't sit so close to the edge." She struggled ending the sentence.
Sometimes you could see things; and still not believe them.
It was hard to believe that he was sitting on the edge of a building. It was unthinkable to imagine he wanted to end…it.
"We're always on the edge Sara," He said quietly, his tone was eerily serious.
"I guess, you could say that…" Sara said, not wanting to be confrontational, or questioning, but she didn't know what he was referring to. She assumed it was death; but she didn't wasn't to entertain the notion in conversation.
Greg sighed, and decided it wasn't worth explaining. He thought someone…he thought she might come. They'd grown much closer recently. She was the only one who seemed to even begin to comprehend how he felt – and tried to support him.
Nick had left; and now he considered her one of his closest friends.
Maybe one of his only friends.
She tried to smile through the pain, "you weren't thinking of jumping where you?" She cringed at the mere idea.
"No." He said shortly.
She sighed, "Don't lie to me Greg." She said, almost yelled, in frustration. She hated to think it; but she knew it was the truth.
"You have no idea what this is like Sara." He stated, looking at her. She looked worse for where; he could tell she was attempting to hold back the tears.
But t was hard to feel anything – he just spent over an hour up here convincing himself that no one cared.
It was hard to continually believe that now she was here.
She was here; wasn't she? She must care? Or was she here out of guilt and duty?
"No, I don't Greg. Not if you don't tell me." She said, her voice cutting into his thought.
"I'm so afraid, and I feel like I have no right to be." He admitted, after all, it didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter what she thought of him.
"…Why?" She questioned; in her opinion, if anyone had a right to be afraid, it was Greg.
"I'm still alive. It's not like I'm in pain all the time. There are people out there a lot worse than me." His voice sounded pitying, even though he didn't mean it to be.
Sara felt lost for words again. She hated seeing anyone in pain. And she hated even more seeing him in pain. "Greg, you can't control how you feel. And it's ok to be sad sometimes…."
"…But it's not ok to go sit on the edge of a building." He said sarcastically. He didn't want her pity – that would make any future decisions harder. And they were already hard enough.
Both looked up instantaneously, to question the sky.
The rain had ceased.
Having her here made him confused – he didn't want her to be here – but now she was, he didn't want her to leave.
Greg sighed deeply, he felt compelled to talk," I feel like every time I talk to someone about this, I loose a piece of myself. I become slightly more vulnerable. It makes you see me differently." Greg said honestly.
Sara shook her head. She had been on a course – learned about the correct thing to do in this situation – coax them away from the edge – be understanding…but this was Greg.
Her friend.
Rules don't apply.
He saw her helpless face, and felt obliged to give her more reasons. He hated having to justify himself…but maybe it would make things easier for them both if she knew why.
"I can't think straight Sara. Do you know what it's like to go into work and feel like you're training up the person who's going to replace you?" He said, his face; empty – his voice; empty.
"I don't Greg," she said sympathetically, "but even if she does eventually replace you is this…" she swallowed involuntarily, "…it this going to help anything?" she questioned, her voice and façade full of concern.
"It'd take me out the equation." He said with an air of finality.
"Some of us like you in the equation," she rebuked seriously.
He was taken aback by this comment. Her words were usually so playful – but this one truck hard.
"I don't want to hurt anyone,…" he said, his voice week, "but I have to start think about what's best for me." He continued more confidently.
"Ok, if you're aloud to want the best for yourself – so am, I! I don't want you to do anything stupid, I didn't want Nick to leave; I don't want to be constantly hating Grissom for saying the wrong things…" she started ranting loudly.
"…And I don't want to be ill Sara." He said sadly.
"We don't get what we want Greg, we both know that. You gotta make the best of what you've got." She pleaded.
There was a silence shared between them, and Sara looked sideways to stare at his face, and he looked toward her.
Her expression was conveying a silent plea. They sat there for some time. Just looking at each other.
Because they said all they could say…
…And Sara knew that in the end, she couldn't change his mind.
…Gradually, light was cast across both of their faces. And both turned, in Sara's case; awkwardly turned, toward the horizon.
The sun was rising.
"I never knew something could be so beautiful." Greg muttered quietly, staring at the band of visible sunlight.
She smiled at him.
"If you jumped Greg, you would have never seen that beauty." She said quietly.
And he returned her smile.
And suddenly, being there wasn't so terrible anymore.
And when she saw his expression…she realised everything was going to be ok.
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Ok, I can see where this might be perceived as shippy. But it's not deliberate. Just exploring the dynamic. No, really. Hee.
I think the next chapter will be the last.
As always, please review.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sara ran up the stairs; she feared the worst. Her only comfort was that if someone had jumped of the roof, there would have been sirens.
Sirens and CSI's.
Her lungs ached, and she silently cursed the position of Greg's flat.
Images of all the 'jump' suicides appeared in her mind.
The first DB she saw in Vegas was a 'jumper.'
Her muscles began to fill with pain as her respiration switched to anaerobic, and the fear was beginning to make her shake. Her stomach knotted. She was exhausted – her fear was both providing energy, and taking her strength away.
She got to the roof….
….and that's when she saw him.
She'd know that outline anywhere.
The rain was driving down hard. It was so fine, it seemed to drench her in seconds. Each droplet was freezing. It would be morning soon.
And even though she could see him, her eyes began to fill with tears.
She wasn't one to cry.
Crying showed weakness.
She was a woman in a man's world; long ago she'd convinced and conditioned herself to not burst out in tears.
She could tell he was soaked, even from this distance.
She gingerly moved closer.
^*^
Greg was sitting on the edge of the building, legs freefalling. He had, indeed, been up there for quite awhile; thinking about things.
Weighing up options.
"Greg," Sara called softly, the last thing she wanted to do was startle him, or make him feel he was cornered.
She edged closer.
He didn't falter; he either didn't hear her, or had chose not to respond.
"Greg," She called, again, looking to the floor she was stepping on, trying not to make any sudden movements.
She was about a metre behind him. She didn't want to get any closer; first out of fear for herself, and secondly; there was still a small chance he hadn't heard her.
She closed her eyes, and exhaled softly. Her body protested, it was exhausted. She needed to sit down….
…And although all the warning signs screamed in her mind, she edged closer, and slowly sat beside Greg, but instead of hanging her legs over the edge, she sat with her back to the landscape.
"Hey," she said, she could see his face.
He looked like he'd been crying…
…but it could have been the rain.
He gave a very fain smile, without looking at her, just to acknowledge her presence.
She searched her mind for words to say, she had no idea how to act, so she just began to speak, and only hopped she said the right thing.
"You know I come out to the roof sometimes; get away from it all." She said, trying to sound upbeat, but failing. "But.." her voice began to crack, "usually it's day time, and I don't sit so close to the edge." She struggled ending the sentence.
Sometimes you could see things; and still not believe them.
It was hard to believe that he was sitting on the edge of a building. It was unthinkable to imagine he wanted to end…it.
"We're always on the edge Sara," He said quietly, his tone was eerily serious.
"I guess, you could say that…" Sara said, not wanting to be confrontational, or questioning, but she didn't know what he was referring to. She assumed it was death; but she didn't wasn't to entertain the notion in conversation.
Greg sighed, and decided it wasn't worth explaining. He thought someone…he thought she might come. They'd grown much closer recently. She was the only one who seemed to even begin to comprehend how he felt – and tried to support him.
Nick had left; and now he considered her one of his closest friends.
Maybe one of his only friends.
She tried to smile through the pain, "you weren't thinking of jumping where you?" She cringed at the mere idea.
"No." He said shortly.
She sighed, "Don't lie to me Greg." She said, almost yelled, in frustration. She hated to think it; but she knew it was the truth.
"You have no idea what this is like Sara." He stated, looking at her. She looked worse for where; he could tell she was attempting to hold back the tears.
But t was hard to feel anything – he just spent over an hour up here convincing himself that no one cared.
It was hard to continually believe that now she was here.
She was here; wasn't she? She must care? Or was she here out of guilt and duty?
"No, I don't Greg. Not if you don't tell me." She said, her voice cutting into his thought.
"I'm so afraid, and I feel like I have no right to be." He admitted, after all, it didn't matter anymore. It didn't matter what she thought of him.
"…Why?" She questioned; in her opinion, if anyone had a right to be afraid, it was Greg.
"I'm still alive. It's not like I'm in pain all the time. There are people out there a lot worse than me." His voice sounded pitying, even though he didn't mean it to be.
Sara felt lost for words again. She hated seeing anyone in pain. And she hated even more seeing him in pain. "Greg, you can't control how you feel. And it's ok to be sad sometimes…."
"…But it's not ok to go sit on the edge of a building." He said sarcastically. He didn't want her pity – that would make any future decisions harder. And they were already hard enough.
Both looked up instantaneously, to question the sky.
The rain had ceased.
Having her here made him confused – he didn't want her to be here – but now she was, he didn't want her to leave.
Greg sighed deeply, he felt compelled to talk," I feel like every time I talk to someone about this, I loose a piece of myself. I become slightly more vulnerable. It makes you see me differently." Greg said honestly.
Sara shook her head. She had been on a course – learned about the correct thing to do in this situation – coax them away from the edge – be understanding…but this was Greg.
Her friend.
Rules don't apply.
He saw her helpless face, and felt obliged to give her more reasons. He hated having to justify himself…but maybe it would make things easier for them both if she knew why.
"I can't think straight Sara. Do you know what it's like to go into work and feel like you're training up the person who's going to replace you?" He said, his face; empty – his voice; empty.
"I don't Greg," she said sympathetically, "but even if she does eventually replace you is this…" she swallowed involuntarily, "…it this going to help anything?" she questioned, her voice and façade full of concern.
"It'd take me out the equation." He said with an air of finality.
"Some of us like you in the equation," she rebuked seriously.
He was taken aback by this comment. Her words were usually so playful – but this one truck hard.
"I don't want to hurt anyone,…" he said, his voice week, "but I have to start think about what's best for me." He continued more confidently.
"Ok, if you're aloud to want the best for yourself – so am, I! I don't want you to do anything stupid, I didn't want Nick to leave; I don't want to be constantly hating Grissom for saying the wrong things…" she started ranting loudly.
"…And I don't want to be ill Sara." He said sadly.
"We don't get what we want Greg, we both know that. You gotta make the best of what you've got." She pleaded.
There was a silence shared between them, and Sara looked sideways to stare at his face, and he looked toward her.
Her expression was conveying a silent plea. They sat there for some time. Just looking at each other.
Because they said all they could say…
…And Sara knew that in the end, she couldn't change his mind.
…Gradually, light was cast across both of their faces. And both turned, in Sara's case; awkwardly turned, toward the horizon.
The sun was rising.
"I never knew something could be so beautiful." Greg muttered quietly, staring at the band of visible sunlight.
She smiled at him.
"If you jumped Greg, you would have never seen that beauty." She said quietly.
And he returned her smile.
And suddenly, being there wasn't so terrible anymore.
And when she saw his expression…she realised everything was going to be ok.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, I can see where this might be perceived as shippy. But it's not deliberate. Just exploring the dynamic. No, really. Hee.
I think the next chapter will be the last.
As always, please review.