Author: Cherie
Title: Aftermath
Rating: PG
Category: Angst/Romance
Feedbacks: Love to hear your feedbacks and suggestions but please no flames.
Archive: my website(risksit.topcities.com) and grissomandsara.com
Summary: Unintentionally, Sara listened to Grissom's admission of his feelings for her to the suspect, Dr. Lurie. Fate playing an evil game with their timing, they collided into each other afterwards. Knowing what the other knew of the incident, Sara comes forward with some enormous conclusions that will not only effect her life but also Grissom's.
Disclaimer: I like to owe them but I'm borrowing them to play with for the next little while.
Author's Note:
I want to take the time to thank Donna for all your support to finish this long, long story.
And to Moggie, thank you for putting up with my wacky talk and beta-ing this story for the last week. A good story is nothing without a good critic.
Chapter One
"Shouldn't you be asking yourself that question?" Brass asked the other man in the room after their prime suspect left with his lawyer.
Sitting at the opposite end of the table, the man who was being instigated felt uncomfortable and didn't know how to answer his college. He was lost.
Both men exchanged glances; the level of anxiety raised another level.
Sighing, Brass didn't want to come between Grissom and his personal problems, but sometimes that man needed a boot. Shaking his head without another word, he left his tired friend to dwell on his question.
Left alone, once again, something Grissom grew accustomed to. Shouldn't he? Brass had a good point there.
Looking back, what has he gained in the last fifty years? What had he kept that was his?
Everyday was like the last. One job after another. He worked. He went home, to an empty house, full of his experiments and his bugs. He hardly goes out with anyone. If he did, he only called on his so-called friends for favors or whenever he needed the companionship.
And Sara. She was the one thing that kept him grounded. She brought a new light into his dark and routinely life. But when he thought he could have it all, his conscious played a horrible game with his heart. Consequently, he lost hers. He lost the one thing that he desperately needed.
She was now beyond his reach.
Heaving a sigh, Grissom was exhausted. He knew he couldn't't let the suspect leave without being charged for killing the young woman, for killing Sara. Not Sara, he changed swiftly, Debbie. Anger and remorse clouded his judgments. But then, something was at the tips of his lips; something he couldn't't not stop. Then he spoke. How sad it was for them. Single men at their age geared by their careers. Efficiently, they planed out their life with their career goals to not be lost in it. But suddenly, they find themselves stricken. They meet their Pandora and she in turn made them their prisoners; prisoners of passion.
As he spoke, the words formed. Shouting to the world of his frustration, his agony of loving someone bound by his obligation and responsibilities.
Three shifts straight, stress and the deprivation of sleep was getting to him. He was worn to the bone. Joints stiffened, he stretched them out, but they wouldn't allow him. Kneeling all day at Debbie Marlin's house got to him at this stage. The case had gotten to him. Seeing Debbie Marlin's face, he began to see Sara's. Restlessly, he had searched the victim's house. Top to bottom for evidence that could break this case, but he didn't find anything that was conclusive. Knowingly, he couldn't blame the evidence for the slow down of his body or Sara.
Work. Simple. Straight forward. No risks to worry. No rocks to bounce off. Consumed by his work, he need not to search for love as men of his age had done in the beginning of their adulthood. Now, they had families and taken on the role of fathers, fiancŽes, uncles, and some even as grandfathers. They found someone to spend their life with. Someone who care for them. Someone who love them.
Who does he have? Only silence answered him. The blame was not on anyone other than himself. Having a high IQ over one hundred, one that was beyond the norm, didn't stop him from being illiterate in the manners of life.
Many called him Gruesome Grissom. He smiled at that thought for a second, but frowned upon the next second. Looking to the four naked grey walls in the interrogating room. They were empty. When he left there, he would be going home to the same room, naked and meaningless, like his life.
~*~*~
On the other side of the darkened window, another figure stood. He was within her view, defeated in his battle with time, with evidence, but most of all with her. She didn't know how long she had stood there, but she knew it was long enough to hear his whole confession. Why did he say it? Why couldnt let her into his life?
Lost in her deep thoughts, she questioned and came up with millions of theories to reason his words. One after the other, one theory sparked after another. Her head began to ache. She touched her face, but only wetness welcomed her fingers, not noticing her own tears.
Feeling sorry, she had wasted her thirty-some years; ten or so years waiting for this man to admit his feelings to her. But after today, she finally understood. He didn't want her. He couldnt do it. Well, she couldn't either.
Sighing, she turned her back to the window, leaning her back against the window. Her head fell, crushed, like her blackened heart.
Thwarted, she was not going to wait for him forever. She always believed in second chances, but those chances will eventually evaporate into nothing. He never bothered to take any of them. She predicted he wasn't going to bother in the future.
Sensing another wave of tears rising, and she knew this time, they weren't going to stop falling. Not wanting anyone to see her tears, she hastily wiped at the stains as best she could with her sleeves, but more washed down beyond her control.
Finally, she realized she needed to leave, now. The shift was over, and she was in a state where she couldn't face anyone. Lost, she needed to decide what her next move was. She did; leaving this room, out the door.
On the other side, Grissom was exhausted. Getting up on his aching legs, he proceeded to the door. Brass had closed it on his way out thinking he needed some privacy to himself. Opening the door, he walked through, about to make a left turn to his office, instead, colliding into another body.
He looked up and saw a brown haired woman with her head down, unable to see what she was heading into. Glimpsing at her body posture, he saw her body turned in a certain angle, as if she came from the observation room behind the interrogating room. She lifted her face, her eyes leveled with his. Shock surprised in her mind.
~*~*~
"SorryÉ," the young woman spoke. Her facial expression mirrored on Grissom's.
"SaraÉ," he spoke. She had been in the observation room? If she had been in there, then É. No, she couldn't have. His mind went blank. Searching her face for an explanation to her presence, but the only thing that spoke to him was the evidence of reddened eyes and tearstains that had merged onto her cheeks.
Sara faced the man who admitted his feelings. Looking at him, she noted that he saw her face. He knows what she knows.
"I É was É um," speechless, Sara tried to come up with an excuse, "Shifts over," as she pointed her finger in the direction of the locker room. Without saying goodbye, she paced quickly, hoping her feet will take her to her destination without running into another being.
Registering in a split of a second, he could not comprehend her abrupt presence. He needed to go after her, but a part of him told him not to. Now that she knows, what was she going to do? He didn't know why he told a stranger his feelings for her, but he did. He admitted he was afraid; afraid to take that leap into the unknown. He envied the doctor; risking all he had accomplished. And he, himself was a coward to just stand there when she left.
