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. Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 53
A loud pounding at the door woke Sara. Rolling over, she stared at the ceiling and swore loudly. She had just fallen asleep. Closing her eyes again, she wished he'd go away. In his current mood, Grissom probably would trigger a snarky comment from her, and she didn't want to fit with him. After a moment's silence, she rolled back over, hoping to get some sleep.
A longer, louder knock ruined that idea. Covering her head with the pillow, she let out string of curses. Now he decides he wants to talk. His timing was terrible; he was bound to hear more than he bargained for if he kept pushing. Several more choice phrases were directed into the pillow when a third rapping followed quickly.
Briefly, she considered ignoring him, but at this rate he'd wake up the entire floor. Besides, she needed to sleep. She hadn't had a decent amount of rest in days, and it was starting to make her edgy. He wasn't likely to go away on his own. Staggering over to the door, she pulled it open as far as the chain would allow.
"Go home, Grissom. I'm trying to sleep. We can talk later," she sighed.
"Sara, let me in. Please," he pleaded.
"No. Go home," she repeated softly.
"I'm sorry. Please, let me in."
"No," she said, her impatience rising. Whatever that case had been, it had bothered him. She could relate; they all had cases which affected them. But he was pushing the limits of her understanding. When she said no, she meant it. "I'm not talking about this now."
She tried to close the door, but he moved his foot into the opening. A sharp retort died when she looked at his face. Even in the early morning light, the intensity in his eyes was evident. Cocking her head, she tried to read his expression, but she couldn't. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what it meant.
Hearing another door open down the hallway, she huffed out an angry breath. At this rate, the police would be here soon. She didn't want any more publicity, especially like this. Turning away for a moment to calm herself, she looked back at him pointedly.
"Move your foot, Grissom. I need to close the door to take the chain off."
"You'll let me in if I do?"
"Yes," she said shortly. Once he complied, she closed the door, momentarily considering going back to bed. She rapidly tried to calculate the probability he would get the hint to leave. Even the worst gambler in Vegas wouldn't take those odds. Instead, she slid the chain off and opened the door, nearly knocked over when he entered the room quickly to pull her into a bear hug.
"I'm sorry, Sara," he said urgently, burying his face in her neck.
She let out a sigh. The smell of scotch was strong on his breath. He didn't appear to be drunk, but he probably shouldn't have driven himself out here. Wrapping her arms around his back, she held on to him as he gently swayed them back and forth.
"I'm not angry with you. Yet, she warned, extracting herself from his arms.
"You're not?" Grissom asked hesitantly.
"No. I don't want to argue, but I'm in a bad mood. If you hang around, I'm going to end up telling you what a prick you're being."
"Come home, Sara. Please."
The corners of her lips turned up slightly, as she shook her head. Grissom hadn't said 'his house', but 'home' as if she belonged. Part of her was flattered by the comment; the rest wondered how much he had to drink for that comment to come out. Still, neither of them was in any condition to be on the road.
She walked back to the closest of the room's two single beds, pulling back the covers. "I'm beat, Grissom. I need to sleep. So do you. We'll work through this later. Go to bed."
Crossing over to the other bed, she let out a startled yelp when his arms wrapped around her from behind. As his hand moved under her top to fondle her, he began nuzzling her neck, whispering, "I'm sorry" between kisses.
Letting out a long sigh, she pushed his hands away and turned around, placing a hand on his chest. A firm shove sent him onto the other bed.
"You can't fix everything with sex," she said, shaking her head. "I said I'm not angry, but you're starting to piss me off. Just back off, okay?"
Crawling back under her covers, she looked over to see Grissom sitting on the edge of the other bed, watching her intently. She urged him again to go to sleep before rolling over. A small groan escaped when she felt his weight settle on the side of her bed.
"Come home," he urged, brushing a lock of hair. "This place isn't safe. It's a dump. Let's go home."
"Grissom," she said sharply, pounding the pillow in frustration. "Look. Either go to sleep or get out. I'm beat. If I have to go back to California to sleep, I will!"
Sara felt guilty when he suddenly got off the bed. She warned him she'd snap if he kept it up. Before she could apologize, the covers to her bed were lifted and he slipped in behind her. His arms snaked around her, pulling her against him. The warmth of his bare skin was evident, but there was nothing sexual about his hold on her. She wasn't sure which of them he was trying to reassure.
Rolling her eyes, she tried to slide over to give him enough room so he wouldn't fall out. With her luck, it'd be Hank that showed up to treat the naked Grissom's skull fracture. Settling back into the pillow, she closed her eyes to finally sleep.
"Don't leave."
A groggy Sara started to elbow him for disrupting her sleep again, but any angry response died off once her brain registered his tone. The sadness worked its way through her mental fog. She patted his arm gently. "I'll be here when you wake up. Grissom, housekeeping's going to be here in a few hours. Please, let me sleep. We'll talk later."
Another groan escaped when he pulled her even closer against his chest. Even if she could breath, she wouldn't have been able to sleep. His body was rigid with tension. Slipping her hand under his arm, she urged him to loosen his grip.
"They were just babies."
That statement was enough to get her attention, even if it wasn't for the desolate tone of his voice. She remembered his reaction to the dead baby accidentally killed by his brother. No wonder he had been in such a bad mood. Thoughts of rest left her mind. If he was voluntarily talking about the case, it must really have upset him.
Sara shifted again, this time so she could roll over to face him. "What happened?" When he remained silent, she ran her fingers along his cheek, prompting him to look at her. The pain was evident in his eyes. "What happened?"
"I went to the scene. Mother and kids were missing. Place was crawling with hide beetles. We found the bodies in the crawl space. The oldest was barely two, Sara, and he already had scars from abuse," he whispered. "His sister was just a baby."
She continued to stroke his face, as he composed himself.
"Brass had already sent out an APB for her car. They found it before David even had the bodies out of the building. At a bar. The mother and her boyfriend were both in it."
Grissom rolled over on his back and ran a hand over his face. Sara lifted herself onto her elbow so she could watch him carefully.
"She helped to kill her own kids. Her boyfriend didn't like them, so they killed them. They held their heads in the toilet until they drowned, then dumped their bodies. Dammit!" Grissom swore, slamming his fist angrily back into the headboard.
The cracking sound was enough to make her jump. The thin wood had broken under the impact. Sara gently reached over to cradle his hand, carefully checking for any broken bones in the dim light. The skin on his knuckles was scraped, but that appeared to be the extent of the damage.
"I'll be right back, babe. Stay here," she said, quickly grabbing the ice bucket and key off the dresser. Running down the hall, she scooped up the ice and raced back to the room. Grissom was by the sink, his hand under the flow of cold water.
"Let me," she said softly, gingerly examining his hand again. With the light on, she could see the swelling starting. Grissom flexed his fingers, grimacing in pain, but not making any sounds. Sara soaped up a washcloth and carefully washed away the seeping blood. Grabbing a hand towel, she wrapped it around the ice and held it against his knuckles.
Taking his elbow in her hand, she led him back to the bed, grabbing the pillows from the other bed to prop up behind him. She grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen from her bag, taking out two of the pills and getting him a glass of water.
Once she was certain he was comfortable, Sara crawled in beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. He gave her a wan and embarrassed smile. After a few moments, he let out a ragged breath.
"Why? After all the things I've seen, I still can't understand how anyone can do that to a child. Especially their own," he said sadly. "Those kids did nothing to deserve that kind of life. They seemed healthy. If the mother didn't want them, she could have put them up for adoption, given them to biological father, just abandoned them. Instead, she murdered her own babies."
After taking a moment to collect himself, Grissom shifted so he could wrap his arm around Sara.
"I'm sorry about earlier. I really hate cases with kids," he sighed. "They're so innocent."
"I know," she said softly.
"Parents should protect their children. They should be the most important things in their lives. Children aren't disposable. If they aren't willing to make that commitment, they shouldn't be having children," he said angrily.
"It's okay, Grissom. I understand," Sara said, running her hand across his chest. "I nearly quit, once. About three months after I started in San Francisco. First case with a dead kid. She was six. Severe asthma. Dad got laid-off. New job didn't pay nearly as much. The parents didn't want to give up their lifestyle, so they stopped filling their daughter's prescriptions. She died."
"I never knew that," he said softly.
"I try not to think about it. I thought I was ready for anything at that point. Wasn't the green rookie any more. God, was I wrong. I remember seeing her there on the playground. Her clothes were in tatters. The autopsy showed she was in the early stages of malnourishment," she said sadly, as Grissom ran a hand over her back.
"The parents went out to dinner all the time. They had expensive liquors and cigars. Prime rib in the fridge for a party they were going to throw," Sara said, her contempt evident. Closing her eyes, she shuddered as she recalled the callousness of the parents.
Grissom sat upright when he felt the tremor. What had he done? The last thing she needed to be doing was talking about dead kids. He hoped this hadn't upset her.
"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. You going to be okay?"
Sara smiled at him. After all he'd just gone through, he was worried about her. Giving him a quick kiss to the cheek, she got out of the bed and placed the do-not-disturb sign on the door. Hopefully, the maid would let them sleep in. Grabbing the ice pack, she placed it in the bucket, and set it beside the bed. Turning off the lights, she crawled back in beside him.
"Just hold me while I sleep, okay?"
He wrapped his arms around her, and soon joined her in sleep.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 53
A loud pounding at the door woke Sara. Rolling over, she stared at the ceiling and swore loudly. She had just fallen asleep. Closing her eyes again, she wished he'd go away. In his current mood, Grissom probably would trigger a snarky comment from her, and she didn't want to fit with him. After a moment's silence, she rolled back over, hoping to get some sleep.
A longer, louder knock ruined that idea. Covering her head with the pillow, she let out string of curses. Now he decides he wants to talk. His timing was terrible; he was bound to hear more than he bargained for if he kept pushing. Several more choice phrases were directed into the pillow when a third rapping followed quickly.
Briefly, she considered ignoring him, but at this rate he'd wake up the entire floor. Besides, she needed to sleep. She hadn't had a decent amount of rest in days, and it was starting to make her edgy. He wasn't likely to go away on his own. Staggering over to the door, she pulled it open as far as the chain would allow.
"Go home, Grissom. I'm trying to sleep. We can talk later," she sighed.
"Sara, let me in. Please," he pleaded.
"No. Go home," she repeated softly.
"I'm sorry. Please, let me in."
"No," she said, her impatience rising. Whatever that case had been, it had bothered him. She could relate; they all had cases which affected them. But he was pushing the limits of her understanding. When she said no, she meant it. "I'm not talking about this now."
She tried to close the door, but he moved his foot into the opening. A sharp retort died when she looked at his face. Even in the early morning light, the intensity in his eyes was evident. Cocking her head, she tried to read his expression, but she couldn't. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what it meant.
Hearing another door open down the hallway, she huffed out an angry breath. At this rate, the police would be here soon. She didn't want any more publicity, especially like this. Turning away for a moment to calm herself, she looked back at him pointedly.
"Move your foot, Grissom. I need to close the door to take the chain off."
"You'll let me in if I do?"
"Yes," she said shortly. Once he complied, she closed the door, momentarily considering going back to bed. She rapidly tried to calculate the probability he would get the hint to leave. Even the worst gambler in Vegas wouldn't take those odds. Instead, she slid the chain off and opened the door, nearly knocked over when he entered the room quickly to pull her into a bear hug.
"I'm sorry, Sara," he said urgently, burying his face in her neck.
She let out a sigh. The smell of scotch was strong on his breath. He didn't appear to be drunk, but he probably shouldn't have driven himself out here. Wrapping her arms around his back, she held on to him as he gently swayed them back and forth.
"I'm not angry with you. Yet, she warned, extracting herself from his arms.
"You're not?" Grissom asked hesitantly.
"No. I don't want to argue, but I'm in a bad mood. If you hang around, I'm going to end up telling you what a prick you're being."
"Come home, Sara. Please."
The corners of her lips turned up slightly, as she shook her head. Grissom hadn't said 'his house', but 'home' as if she belonged. Part of her was flattered by the comment; the rest wondered how much he had to drink for that comment to come out. Still, neither of them was in any condition to be on the road.
She walked back to the closest of the room's two single beds, pulling back the covers. "I'm beat, Grissom. I need to sleep. So do you. We'll work through this later. Go to bed."
Crossing over to the other bed, she let out a startled yelp when his arms wrapped around her from behind. As his hand moved under her top to fondle her, he began nuzzling her neck, whispering, "I'm sorry" between kisses.
Letting out a long sigh, she pushed his hands away and turned around, placing a hand on his chest. A firm shove sent him onto the other bed.
"You can't fix everything with sex," she said, shaking her head. "I said I'm not angry, but you're starting to piss me off. Just back off, okay?"
Crawling back under her covers, she looked over to see Grissom sitting on the edge of the other bed, watching her intently. She urged him again to go to sleep before rolling over. A small groan escaped when she felt his weight settle on the side of her bed.
"Come home," he urged, brushing a lock of hair. "This place isn't safe. It's a dump. Let's go home."
"Grissom," she said sharply, pounding the pillow in frustration. "Look. Either go to sleep or get out. I'm beat. If I have to go back to California to sleep, I will!"
Sara felt guilty when he suddenly got off the bed. She warned him she'd snap if he kept it up. Before she could apologize, the covers to her bed were lifted and he slipped in behind her. His arms snaked around her, pulling her against him. The warmth of his bare skin was evident, but there was nothing sexual about his hold on her. She wasn't sure which of them he was trying to reassure.
Rolling her eyes, she tried to slide over to give him enough room so he wouldn't fall out. With her luck, it'd be Hank that showed up to treat the naked Grissom's skull fracture. Settling back into the pillow, she closed her eyes to finally sleep.
"Don't leave."
A groggy Sara started to elbow him for disrupting her sleep again, but any angry response died off once her brain registered his tone. The sadness worked its way through her mental fog. She patted his arm gently. "I'll be here when you wake up. Grissom, housekeeping's going to be here in a few hours. Please, let me sleep. We'll talk later."
Another groan escaped when he pulled her even closer against his chest. Even if she could breath, she wouldn't have been able to sleep. His body was rigid with tension. Slipping her hand under his arm, she urged him to loosen his grip.
"They were just babies."
That statement was enough to get her attention, even if it wasn't for the desolate tone of his voice. She remembered his reaction to the dead baby accidentally killed by his brother. No wonder he had been in such a bad mood. Thoughts of rest left her mind. If he was voluntarily talking about the case, it must really have upset him.
Sara shifted again, this time so she could roll over to face him. "What happened?" When he remained silent, she ran her fingers along his cheek, prompting him to look at her. The pain was evident in his eyes. "What happened?"
"I went to the scene. Mother and kids were missing. Place was crawling with hide beetles. We found the bodies in the crawl space. The oldest was barely two, Sara, and he already had scars from abuse," he whispered. "His sister was just a baby."
She continued to stroke his face, as he composed himself.
"Brass had already sent out an APB for her car. They found it before David even had the bodies out of the building. At a bar. The mother and her boyfriend were both in it."
Grissom rolled over on his back and ran a hand over his face. Sara lifted herself onto her elbow so she could watch him carefully.
"She helped to kill her own kids. Her boyfriend didn't like them, so they killed them. They held their heads in the toilet until they drowned, then dumped their bodies. Dammit!" Grissom swore, slamming his fist angrily back into the headboard.
The cracking sound was enough to make her jump. The thin wood had broken under the impact. Sara gently reached over to cradle his hand, carefully checking for any broken bones in the dim light. The skin on his knuckles was scraped, but that appeared to be the extent of the damage.
"I'll be right back, babe. Stay here," she said, quickly grabbing the ice bucket and key off the dresser. Running down the hall, she scooped up the ice and raced back to the room. Grissom was by the sink, his hand under the flow of cold water.
"Let me," she said softly, gingerly examining his hand again. With the light on, she could see the swelling starting. Grissom flexed his fingers, grimacing in pain, but not making any sounds. Sara soaped up a washcloth and carefully washed away the seeping blood. Grabbing a hand towel, she wrapped it around the ice and held it against his knuckles.
Taking his elbow in her hand, she led him back to the bed, grabbing the pillows from the other bed to prop up behind him. She grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen from her bag, taking out two of the pills and getting him a glass of water.
Once she was certain he was comfortable, Sara crawled in beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. He gave her a wan and embarrassed smile. After a few moments, he let out a ragged breath.
"Why? After all the things I've seen, I still can't understand how anyone can do that to a child. Especially their own," he said sadly. "Those kids did nothing to deserve that kind of life. They seemed healthy. If the mother didn't want them, she could have put them up for adoption, given them to biological father, just abandoned them. Instead, she murdered her own babies."
After taking a moment to collect himself, Grissom shifted so he could wrap his arm around Sara.
"I'm sorry about earlier. I really hate cases with kids," he sighed. "They're so innocent."
"I know," she said softly.
"Parents should protect their children. They should be the most important things in their lives. Children aren't disposable. If they aren't willing to make that commitment, they shouldn't be having children," he said angrily.
"It's okay, Grissom. I understand," Sara said, running her hand across his chest. "I nearly quit, once. About three months after I started in San Francisco. First case with a dead kid. She was six. Severe asthma. Dad got laid-off. New job didn't pay nearly as much. The parents didn't want to give up their lifestyle, so they stopped filling their daughter's prescriptions. She died."
"I never knew that," he said softly.
"I try not to think about it. I thought I was ready for anything at that point. Wasn't the green rookie any more. God, was I wrong. I remember seeing her there on the playground. Her clothes were in tatters. The autopsy showed she was in the early stages of malnourishment," she said sadly, as Grissom ran a hand over her back.
"The parents went out to dinner all the time. They had expensive liquors and cigars. Prime rib in the fridge for a party they were going to throw," Sara said, her contempt evident. Closing her eyes, she shuddered as she recalled the callousness of the parents.
Grissom sat upright when he felt the tremor. What had he done? The last thing she needed to be doing was talking about dead kids. He hoped this hadn't upset her.
"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. You going to be okay?"
Sara smiled at him. After all he'd just gone through, he was worried about her. Giving him a quick kiss to the cheek, she got out of the bed and placed the do-not-disturb sign on the door. Hopefully, the maid would let them sleep in. Grabbing the ice pack, she placed it in the bucket, and set it beside the bed. Turning off the lights, she crawled back in beside him.
"Just hold me while I sleep, okay?"
He wrapped his arms around her, and soon joined her in sleep.