Summary: After viewing a horrific accident, Sara makes some hard decisions about her life. Obviously, a Sara-centered story, but with lots of friendship and a little bit of G/S at the end.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. The chapter titles are opening lines from Emily Dickinson poems.
Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Am I going to have to pull a Burked and threaten not to post more until people start posting reviews? Come on folks, it's the only way I have of knowing if anyone's bothering to read this! Please? :-)
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
~~~~~~~~
Chapter 13 - Read, sweet, how others strove
Time moved slowly for Sara. Staring at the bedside clock, she mentally willed it to move faster. Failing that endeavor, she silently cursed herself for leaving her cell phone in the living room; not that Catherine gave her much choice in the matter. With it, she could have at least continued going through her phone messages.
She wasn't going to cross Catherine to get it, though. She wasn't in any mood to deal with her blonde colleague. After her confrontation with Grissom, she was sure Catherine would want to grill her for answers. Or offer her a shoulder to cry on.
Why was everyone so friendly all of the sudden? Well, Warrick was just being his normal, sensitive self. Luckily Greg was on vacation, because she was in no mood for his contributions at this point. At least Nicky was treating her the same as always.
She couldn't get Catherine. The woman had made it clear since the beginning she didn't want her on the team. They worked well together, but that was it. Luckily, the press hadn't found out her colleague thought she was incompetent. Sara shook her head. Catherine had just apologized, in her own non-apologetic way. It didn't make sense. Grissom must have put her up to it.
The thought of her supervisor made her head hurt more. What was going on? She meant what she had said; she was suspicious of his behavior. He had barely talked to her since she took the initiative and asked him out to dinner. Now, suddenly, he was being extremely supportive. It was confusing.
There was a time when Sara thought she could have counted on Grissom for anything. Since moving to Vegas, she found herself re-evaluating that assessment. Still, he had been supportive, even kind, these past couple of days. It was a nice change of pace that she had probably just destroyed. Not that it would have lasted long anyway. She would apologize tonight. Maybe he would pretend to care for a little longer.
Listening at the door, Sara could just make out the sound of the printer. Catherine was still awake. She considered calling a taxi after her host went to bed so she could go home. Sara rejected that idea once she realized Catherine still had her clothes. Knowing the older woman, she wouldn't return them until after forcing Sara to eat a healthy meal. The thought of food made her stomach twist.
A plan to go ahead and leave in just her pajamas was squelched when she realized there would be no way for her to enter her apartment without passing the reporters. The last thing she wanted was more publicity, especially with comments describing her sanity.
Looking at the clock, she groaned when she realized that only a minute had past. It felt like hours. Even in her current condition it only took her a moment to calculate the gravitational effect necessary to generate that type of time dilation.
She turned her attention to Lindsay's room. A wide assortment of toys was neatly stored on the shelves. Sara had never had such a variety or abundance of toys growing up. She had no idea what an average little girl played with. Getting up, Sara examined the selection in more detail, looking for ideas. She'd pick up Teresa another present when she went back to visit.
~~~~~~~~~
Warrick wandered down the Strip. The open doors of the casinos were a temptation. It would be so easy to fall back into that habit. It wasn't as if he suffered; his ability to count cards gave him a decided edge. He almost always came out comfortably ahead. Common sense kept him from winning too large of a jackpot; why draw attention that would get him blackballed?
He continued his trek without entering any of the casinos. It had cost him professionally, though. He missed work to place bets. Holly would probably still be alive if not for him.
Self-destructive habits were a subject with which he had had too much experience. Warrick vowed to not let Sara start any.
~~~~~~~~~
Catherine printed another article. So far, her research had yielded little new information. As she had told Sara earlier, mood swings, nervousness and nightmares were all common symptoms for someone experiencing severe stress. The blonde knew she had had her share of them following Eddie's death and Lindsay's rescue.
But another symptom was avoidance: the deliberate distancing of friends and co-workers. It was a "safety" mechanism. Keep people at a distance and they won't ask about the accident. Don't talk about it and you won't relive it. Except this "safety" was dangerous. Repressing memories didn't make them go away. And the self-imposed isolation could aggravate any accompanying depression.
Sighing, Catherine wondered if the incident earlier in the kitchen was an attempt at avoidance. If it were, it'd probably work. Grissom wasn't one to get involved easily in personal matters, and being shot down like that would make him gun-shy about trying again.
Except Sara had started to open up. She had been quiet in the car, but eventually she had talked to Catherine. If Grissom hadn't arrived when he had, she probably could have gotten the younger woman to talk more. The man had terrible timing.
So, if it wasn't avoidance, what was it? Sara was normally a very strong, independent, stable person. To be stuck relying on co-workers would be hard enough on her. To be caught as a nervous wreck would be terribly embarrassing.
Another possibility was Sara had just finally run out of patience with Grissom. Catherine couldn't really blame her; she loved her friend dearly, but didn't think she could bear to be in love with him.
Whether a quirk of personality or a remnant of personal history, Grissom didn't open himself to others. He was an enigma. After more than a decade of working together, her friend continued to surprise Catherine.
She knew that he was both awkward and uncomfortable with personal interactions. That hadn't stopped him from trying to help Sara. Catherine hoped he'd try again.
She hadn't told Grissom, but she was beginning to worry. Finding Sara on the floor apologizing to an empty room had been frightening by itself. What did she have to apologize for? And to whom? The knowledge that something had happened in the morgue which was enough to concern Dr. Robbins added to Catherine's concern. She found herself agreeing with the coroner's assessment: something had happened on that bus.
Sighing again, Catherine debated asking Sara directly. There was no sound coming from Lindsay's room. Hopefully, she was asleep. Even if she wasn't, Sara probably wasn't in the mood to talk right now. She'd ask later.
Heading to the kitchen, she grabbed another ice bag for her busted lip. Luckily, none of her teeth were loose. Checking on the laundry, Catherine folded the dry clothes and placed them in her bedroom. She didn't want Sara sneaking out in her condition.
~~~~~~~~~
The ringing phone interrupted the day-shift coroner. He wasn't surprised that the questions regarded the school bus accident - the press had been calling consistently - but the specific nature of Darby's inquiries made him curious. He answered the questions perfunctorily; he really didn't have the answers she was looking for. Once he finished the call, he contacted Al Robbins. Perhaps he had a clue what was going on.
~~~~~~~~~
Grissom lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. His migraine taunted him. It wouldn't go away, nor would it get bad enough to justify using the medication that would knock him out.
Letting out a groan, he replayed the conversation in his mind again. When had she become angry? Sara had been moody earlier at work, but she had been apologetic whenever she snapped. Overall, they had gotten along better than they had since ...
Had it really been a year? When was the last time, other than after the explosion, that he had been friendly to her? His head throbbed more.
Grissom had wanted to isolate himself, to protect himself. It was irrational, but he had hoped he could avoid his hearing troubles. But Sara knew him too well, was too observant of him. She would have eventually realized something was wrong. He couldn't ignore it once she found out. Sara wouldn't let him.
And there were other ... issues. Grissom couldn't deny he was attracted to Sara. His mind supplied a litany of reasons why he shouldn't feel that way: she was too young; too emotional; they came from different backgrounds; he was her supervisor.
It ignored the obvious: she was dangerous. If he let her in, Sara could hurt him. Once she was in, Grissom wouldn't want her out. Any pain he felt in the past would be minor compared to what she could do to him.
So he shut her out. He hadn't meant to hurt Sara, but apparently he had. Why had she waited until their conversation in the kitchen to broach it, though? Well, Catherine had warned him that visiting the little girl was a dangerous idea. Maybe it had stressed Sara even more.
Rubbing his eyes, he tried to figure out what to do. His brain screamed that he should back off; she didn't want him around, anyway. It was falling back on that standby that got him in this mess to begin with.
Sara was an usually self-reliant woman. But now the one time she needed a friend the most, and she didn't think he counted. And Grissom knew he had no one to blame but himself. He tried to figure out how to solve the problem until a ringing phone interrupted him.
~~~~~~~~~
Nick put down the photo album. He and Danny McGregor hadn't been close friends, but the guy had lived just two doors down. Even now, after years of training, Nick couldn't think of any sign, any clue, Danny had ever given that he was going to kill himself.
What could have driven him to do that? Danny had it all: looks, personality, intelligence, a close family, more friends than most, a bright future. If someone with no apparent troubles could take their own life, what would prevent someone under duress from trying it?
He picked up the collection of photos he had saved from the newspapers. They had been destined to enter another album. Flipping through the pages, he realized how few photos he had of Sara. Nick set the press clippings aside. Right now, those weren't how he wanted to remember her.
~~~~~~~~~
Lynda Darby quickly filed her story. This was risky: printing an overheard conversation would make her incredibly unpopular with the police. She'd lose, at least temporarily, most of her contacts. Even her cousin wouldn't be able to get her into the hospital again.
But this could be a career-maker. She could easily be on her way to one of the major dailies, possibly even the AP.
~~~~~~~~~
Across town, a young girl stirred uneasily in her sleep. The readout on one of the monitors attached to her body began a slow but steady climb upwards.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. The chapter titles are opening lines from Emily Dickinson poems.
Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Am I going to have to pull a Burked and threaten not to post more until people start posting reviews? Come on folks, it's the only way I have of knowing if anyone's bothering to read this! Please? :-)
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
~~~~~~~~
Chapter 13 - Read, sweet, how others strove
Time moved slowly for Sara. Staring at the bedside clock, she mentally willed it to move faster. Failing that endeavor, she silently cursed herself for leaving her cell phone in the living room; not that Catherine gave her much choice in the matter. With it, she could have at least continued going through her phone messages.
She wasn't going to cross Catherine to get it, though. She wasn't in any mood to deal with her blonde colleague. After her confrontation with Grissom, she was sure Catherine would want to grill her for answers. Or offer her a shoulder to cry on.
Why was everyone so friendly all of the sudden? Well, Warrick was just being his normal, sensitive self. Luckily Greg was on vacation, because she was in no mood for his contributions at this point. At least Nicky was treating her the same as always.
She couldn't get Catherine. The woman had made it clear since the beginning she didn't want her on the team. They worked well together, but that was it. Luckily, the press hadn't found out her colleague thought she was incompetent. Sara shook her head. Catherine had just apologized, in her own non-apologetic way. It didn't make sense. Grissom must have put her up to it.
The thought of her supervisor made her head hurt more. What was going on? She meant what she had said; she was suspicious of his behavior. He had barely talked to her since she took the initiative and asked him out to dinner. Now, suddenly, he was being extremely supportive. It was confusing.
There was a time when Sara thought she could have counted on Grissom for anything. Since moving to Vegas, she found herself re-evaluating that assessment. Still, he had been supportive, even kind, these past couple of days. It was a nice change of pace that she had probably just destroyed. Not that it would have lasted long anyway. She would apologize tonight. Maybe he would pretend to care for a little longer.
Listening at the door, Sara could just make out the sound of the printer. Catherine was still awake. She considered calling a taxi after her host went to bed so she could go home. Sara rejected that idea once she realized Catherine still had her clothes. Knowing the older woman, she wouldn't return them until after forcing Sara to eat a healthy meal. The thought of food made her stomach twist.
A plan to go ahead and leave in just her pajamas was squelched when she realized there would be no way for her to enter her apartment without passing the reporters. The last thing she wanted was more publicity, especially with comments describing her sanity.
Looking at the clock, she groaned when she realized that only a minute had past. It felt like hours. Even in her current condition it only took her a moment to calculate the gravitational effect necessary to generate that type of time dilation.
She turned her attention to Lindsay's room. A wide assortment of toys was neatly stored on the shelves. Sara had never had such a variety or abundance of toys growing up. She had no idea what an average little girl played with. Getting up, Sara examined the selection in more detail, looking for ideas. She'd pick up Teresa another present when she went back to visit.
~~~~~~~~~
Warrick wandered down the Strip. The open doors of the casinos were a temptation. It would be so easy to fall back into that habit. It wasn't as if he suffered; his ability to count cards gave him a decided edge. He almost always came out comfortably ahead. Common sense kept him from winning too large of a jackpot; why draw attention that would get him blackballed?
He continued his trek without entering any of the casinos. It had cost him professionally, though. He missed work to place bets. Holly would probably still be alive if not for him.
Self-destructive habits were a subject with which he had had too much experience. Warrick vowed to not let Sara start any.
~~~~~~~~~
Catherine printed another article. So far, her research had yielded little new information. As she had told Sara earlier, mood swings, nervousness and nightmares were all common symptoms for someone experiencing severe stress. The blonde knew she had had her share of them following Eddie's death and Lindsay's rescue.
But another symptom was avoidance: the deliberate distancing of friends and co-workers. It was a "safety" mechanism. Keep people at a distance and they won't ask about the accident. Don't talk about it and you won't relive it. Except this "safety" was dangerous. Repressing memories didn't make them go away. And the self-imposed isolation could aggravate any accompanying depression.
Sighing, Catherine wondered if the incident earlier in the kitchen was an attempt at avoidance. If it were, it'd probably work. Grissom wasn't one to get involved easily in personal matters, and being shot down like that would make him gun-shy about trying again.
Except Sara had started to open up. She had been quiet in the car, but eventually she had talked to Catherine. If Grissom hadn't arrived when he had, she probably could have gotten the younger woman to talk more. The man had terrible timing.
So, if it wasn't avoidance, what was it? Sara was normally a very strong, independent, stable person. To be stuck relying on co-workers would be hard enough on her. To be caught as a nervous wreck would be terribly embarrassing.
Another possibility was Sara had just finally run out of patience with Grissom. Catherine couldn't really blame her; she loved her friend dearly, but didn't think she could bear to be in love with him.
Whether a quirk of personality or a remnant of personal history, Grissom didn't open himself to others. He was an enigma. After more than a decade of working together, her friend continued to surprise Catherine.
She knew that he was both awkward and uncomfortable with personal interactions. That hadn't stopped him from trying to help Sara. Catherine hoped he'd try again.
She hadn't told Grissom, but she was beginning to worry. Finding Sara on the floor apologizing to an empty room had been frightening by itself. What did she have to apologize for? And to whom? The knowledge that something had happened in the morgue which was enough to concern Dr. Robbins added to Catherine's concern. She found herself agreeing with the coroner's assessment: something had happened on that bus.
Sighing again, Catherine debated asking Sara directly. There was no sound coming from Lindsay's room. Hopefully, she was asleep. Even if she wasn't, Sara probably wasn't in the mood to talk right now. She'd ask later.
Heading to the kitchen, she grabbed another ice bag for her busted lip. Luckily, none of her teeth were loose. Checking on the laundry, Catherine folded the dry clothes and placed them in her bedroom. She didn't want Sara sneaking out in her condition.
~~~~~~~~~
The ringing phone interrupted the day-shift coroner. He wasn't surprised that the questions regarded the school bus accident - the press had been calling consistently - but the specific nature of Darby's inquiries made him curious. He answered the questions perfunctorily; he really didn't have the answers she was looking for. Once he finished the call, he contacted Al Robbins. Perhaps he had a clue what was going on.
~~~~~~~~~
Grissom lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. His migraine taunted him. It wouldn't go away, nor would it get bad enough to justify using the medication that would knock him out.
Letting out a groan, he replayed the conversation in his mind again. When had she become angry? Sara had been moody earlier at work, but she had been apologetic whenever she snapped. Overall, they had gotten along better than they had since ...
Had it really been a year? When was the last time, other than after the explosion, that he had been friendly to her? His head throbbed more.
Grissom had wanted to isolate himself, to protect himself. It was irrational, but he had hoped he could avoid his hearing troubles. But Sara knew him too well, was too observant of him. She would have eventually realized something was wrong. He couldn't ignore it once she found out. Sara wouldn't let him.
And there were other ... issues. Grissom couldn't deny he was attracted to Sara. His mind supplied a litany of reasons why he shouldn't feel that way: she was too young; too emotional; they came from different backgrounds; he was her supervisor.
It ignored the obvious: she was dangerous. If he let her in, Sara could hurt him. Once she was in, Grissom wouldn't want her out. Any pain he felt in the past would be minor compared to what she could do to him.
So he shut her out. He hadn't meant to hurt Sara, but apparently he had. Why had she waited until their conversation in the kitchen to broach it, though? Well, Catherine had warned him that visiting the little girl was a dangerous idea. Maybe it had stressed Sara even more.
Rubbing his eyes, he tried to figure out what to do. His brain screamed that he should back off; she didn't want him around, anyway. It was falling back on that standby that got him in this mess to begin with.
Sara was an usually self-reliant woman. But now the one time she needed a friend the most, and she didn't think he counted. And Grissom knew he had no one to blame but himself. He tried to figure out how to solve the problem until a ringing phone interrupted him.
~~~~~~~~~
Nick put down the photo album. He and Danny McGregor hadn't been close friends, but the guy had lived just two doors down. Even now, after years of training, Nick couldn't think of any sign, any clue, Danny had ever given that he was going to kill himself.
What could have driven him to do that? Danny had it all: looks, personality, intelligence, a close family, more friends than most, a bright future. If someone with no apparent troubles could take their own life, what would prevent someone under duress from trying it?
He picked up the collection of photos he had saved from the newspapers. They had been destined to enter another album. Flipping through the pages, he realized how few photos he had of Sara. Nick set the press clippings aside. Right now, those weren't how he wanted to remember her.
~~~~~~~~~
Lynda Darby quickly filed her story. This was risky: printing an overheard conversation would make her incredibly unpopular with the police. She'd lose, at least temporarily, most of her contacts. Even her cousin wouldn't be able to get her into the hospital again.
But this could be a career-maker. She could easily be on her way to one of the major dailies, possibly even the AP.
~~~~~~~~~
Across town, a young girl stirred uneasily in her sleep. The readout on one of the monitors attached to her body began a slow but steady climb upwards.