Stayin' With You: Chapter Three: Coping
Grissom kept vigil over her bedside for two nights, barely eating, or sleeping. He was just watching Sara sleep. He hoped that she was having dreams instead of nightmares. He decided that he should just go ahead and tell the team about their relationship. He was happy to know that they supported him all the way. The lab was working around the clock to track down the person that nearly killed Sara. It would be the first time that Ecklie's crew was thorough and diligent in their work.
Grissom didn't know what to do about himself. He tried going for walks, getting something to eat, but nothing was working. He couldn't keep his mind off of Sara no matter how hard he tried.
He observed her as she slept. She was beautiful. He imagined she would be even more beautiful with her belly swelling to accommodate their baby, and her face glowing. When he thought about it, he'd seen her look before. He had no idea, not even the slightest hint that she might be pregnant, but the way she looked; her face showing content and pleasure. He began to recall when she sighed dreamily, only brushing it off as good sleep.
"Sara, why didn't you tell me?" He asked as he squeezed her hand, as if the whole thing was going to reverse.
Grissom kissed Sara's hand. "Wake up, baby, I know that you're hurting right now but please open your eyes."
He saw her lids begin to flutter a bit, then she slowly opened her eyes.
***
Sara woke up. She couldn't remember anything. She didn't even know why she was at the hospital. She whimpered in pain as she fell back to the bed, in an attempt to sit up. What happened to her? Suddenly, vague memories began to haunt her. She saw the car again, she felt it hitting her. What was she thinking? She should have looked…none of this wouldn't have happened. She heard someone come in.
"Ah, you're awake," a doctor said. "Hi, Sara. I'm Dr. Freedmont."
"Hi," Sara said weakly.
"How are you feeling?" He asked.
"I feel like I was dropped from an airplane," Sara groaned. "What happened exactly?"
"Uh, you sustained some pretty life threatening injuries…"
"What about my baby? Is it okay?" Sara asked, expecting some good news, but she got the opposite.
"Ms. Sidle," the doctor started sympathetically. "You were hit directly in the abdomen. We checked for internal bleeding, and you had none, but you were miscarrying. You had actually been miscarrying all day. You would have eventually lost the baby, it's just that the hit and run, pretty much finished it up. We had to remove the baby in surgery. You can still have children…"
"I don't want to hear anymore," Sara said as she began to cry. "I can't begin to tell you how much I wanted my baby. I was so happy, and now…it was my fault. I didn't look both ways before crossing…"
"No, the person who did this is responsible, not you," the doctor said, taking Sara's hand.
"Just leave me alone right now," Sara said as she lay back down. "Where's Grissom?"
"Who?" The doctor asked.
"Gil Grissom," Sara said rather impatiently. "Where is he?"
"Oh, he went to go get some coffee," Dr. Freedmont said. "He'll be back in a few minutes."
Sara nodded then laid back down. She felt a bit of pain in her neck. She ran her hand across her neck. She felt stitches. She couldn't totally remember the hit, but she certainly felt it. She felt it in her body and in her heart. She was hurting because she could no longer feel anything within her. She couldn't feel the child growing by the minute in her womb anymore. She felt empty. She felt hollow.
Grissom came in quietly before greeting her. "Hey you're up."
Sara only managed a weak grin. She knew that he knew about her pregnancy already. He knew that the baby no longer existed.
He kissed her lightly on the lips before sitting down next to her. He solemnly put his hand on her now flat abdomen.
"We would have been parents in six months' time," he said with a chuckle, then his chuckle turned into soft crying as he lay his head on her belly. "I promise I'll get him. Whoever did this to you won't get away with it."
"Shh," Sara said, running her hands through his hair. "Don't worry about that right now. I'm here with you, that's all that matters."
"Why didn't you tell me honey?" Grissom asked.
"I was afraid that you wouldn't want me after that," Sara said. "I was afraid that you wouldn't want the baby."
"Oh God Sara," Grissom said into her belly. "Nothing would have made me happier than to have a child with you."
"The doctor said that we can still have a baby," Sara said. "I promise I'll give you children Gil. I'll give you as many as I can have. We'll fill the house full to the brim with children."
"I love you, Sara Teresa Sidle," Grissom said to her.
"I love you, Gilbert Anthony Grissom," she said, giving into the exhaustion that overtook her body.
***
A few days later, Sara was discharged from the hospital.
"We're home," Grissom said.
Sara grinned a little as she got out of the car. She would finally be able to use her own bathroom and sleep in her own bed, and eat her own food.
"Grissom put her bags in her bedroom then he came back out to her and helped her sit on the couch. She was sore from her surgery, and she couldn't just plop down in a chair, as she so often did. Grissom used to get annoyed by it because she plopped down on his lap sometimes. Even though she weighed a healthy one hundred twenty pounds, she still flung all of that weight onto his middle aged body.
"What are you thinking about?" Sara asked as she covered herself with a blanket.
"I was just thinking about the many times I scolded you for plopping down on me and on the furniture," he said as he propped her feet up.
Sara smiled. "It's fun."
"For one of us," Grissom said, rolling his eyes. He turned serious. "Sara, do you want to talk about what happened? How you feel about losing the baby?"
Sara stared at him blankly for a minute before answering. "There's nothing to talk about. I mean, it is partly my fault. I should have looked both ways before crossing."
"No Sara," Grissom said firmly. "Honey, you were barely to the middle of the street when the perp hit you."
"I don't know," Sara said, beginning to cry. "I just had so many things on my mind that night. It was my fault. I was so careless. I didn't know what to do…"
"Sara, you cannot blame yourself," Grissom said taking her hands. "None of this was your fault. You were pregnant, you were happy, you were worried. The person who wasn't thinking that night was the perp."
"No, I-I should have been looking…I heard the car horn," Sara said, seemingly satisfied with her reason, no matter how it sounded.
Grissom sighed and kissed her forehead.
"You know Gil," she started. "Sometimes, I can feel the baby kicking. I still feel it inside of me."
He knew then that it was her medication talking. "Sara, you need to rest."
"No," she whined. "I don't want to."
"Sara please," Grissom said looking into her distant eyes, full of delusions. "Lay down and go to sleep."
"I can't go to sleep," she said struggling weakly against him pushing her gently down on the couch.
Grissom saw her eyes slowly closing as he laid her down. She fell into a deep sleep almost instantly. He kissed her lips then he got in the love seat opposite the couch. He rubbed his temples then he leaned back and took in Sara's sleeping form. She looked different. This time, she looked afraid and insecure. Uncharacteristic of Sara. He couldn't help but think that there was something he could have done. Actually, there was nothing either of them could do about it. The doctor said that Sara had been miscarrying all day up until the hit and run. She showed no signs of pain, or even concern. Sara looked happy and thoughtful as usual.
After about an hour, he saw Sara stir. She sat up and brushed her hair from her face with her hand.
"You didn't sleep very long," Grissom said.
Sara didn't respond as she sat Indian style on the couch and clutched the pillow. The tiredness was weighing down her body, but she didn't feel like sleeping. She had too many shadowy memories of the night she lost her heart's desire: her baby. On that night, her thoughts were not on her headache. Her thoughts were on the child she was carrying.
She was thinking how much she would love the baby and give it the best things the world had to offer. She was thinking that it would be a boy. She felt a strong sense that the baby was a boy. Even in it's death, she still believed that she was having a boy. She imagined that the baby would look a lot like Grissom. She would have liked that. She would have two strong men in her house.
Grissom wanted desperately to talk to her, but he would not let his mouth move. Her silence made him feel a pang in the deepest pits of his stomach. The sunlight danced across her face, making her seem angelic.
"Damn sunlight," Sara huffed. She got up and closed the curtains, shrouding the room in darkness.
He said nothing. People had strange ways of coping with loss. Sara had to deal with it from the inside out. He could not even begin to imagine the loss she felt. She carried the child, nurtured it up to it's point. So intimate is the bond between mother and child in the womb, that Grissom never thought that he'd understand. He wanted desperately to help her through her pain, but he didn't know how because his heart was wrought with fresh pain. It was painful to him to watch her suffer, to see the bruises and the cuts, to see her cry. All he wanted was her happiness.