Falling to pieces?

By Ria

Characters not mine, story is.

Check out my site www.csichaostheory.co.uk

The call caught her between the shower and the bedroom. Wrapped solely in a towel, she rushed to answer before her answering service did, picking it up just in time.

At first, it didn't make sense. She recognised Greg's voice more by the whir of the mass spectrometer in the background than actually by his voice. It was shaking, sounding close to, or already in, tears. And then it wasn't so much the voice not making sense, it was the words that didn't.

Grissom…shot…backdoor…

Sara sat down hard on the floor next to the phone, not noticing the hard cold wood floor underneath her as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

'When?' she finally asked, her voice sounding hollow and far away. Not her own.

'This morning. Neighbour called the police. It's bad Sara. They won't tell us anything, but it's obvious.'

For a moment both were silent. Sara ran a hand over her face, pushing wet hair out of her eyes, hardly daring to believe that something had happened to Grissom.

'Sara?' Greg's voice was still now, she could imagine him using the moment to compose himself, to get a little self control back, like she had done.

'Yeah.'

'Come back.' Greg said, a forcefulness entering his voice. 'Please. Come and see him. The team needs you.'

Sara went back to silent, her heart, which was already loud and fast in her chest started hammering in her ear, making it sound even louder to her. She wondered abstractedly if Greg could hear it too.

'I'll pick you up at the airport.' Greg started again. 'Just let me know what flight.' He instructed, his voice hard now, almost demanding. Then his voice changed, dropping almost to a whisper, a heartbreaking plea that tore at her already breaking heart. 'Please Sara, it's all falling to pieces.'

Sara made up her mind then and there, nodding even though she knew Greg couldn't see her. 'I'll let you know my flight.'

She heard the sigh of relief over the phone line, but Greg didn't say anything further. Or if he did it was after Sara had gently replaced the phone.

She sat there for a long moment, remembering Grissom, trying to imagine him shot, trying to imagine the how, and more than anything the why. The nature of the job, the people they made contact with every day were the prime suspect, but, as they all knew, there were a lot of crazy people in the world.

She eventually picked up the phone again, dialling information for an airline number, eventually booking one from Boston in a couple of hours to get her to Las Vegas mid afternoon. She text the details to Greg, as she couldn't face hearing his voice again over the telephone. He text back almost immediately, with a simple "c u there", but Sara could almost feel his relief in the words.

She slowly got up, making her way back to her bedroom. Her hair had almost dried, leaving it a frizzy mess, and Sara knew it was gonna take a miracle for it to go straight. She changed into the first clothes she laid her hands on, jeans and a tank top, shrugging on a fleece over the top seeing as it was only forty degrees outside. The hairbrush thought her hair with every stroke but eventually at least all the knots were out, and she tied it back in a simple plait. Every few moments, her mind would return to the fact that Grissom had been shot. Would remember all over again. Would hurt all over again.

The airport was fairly quiet, and as she sought out the flight to Las Vegas on the departures board, she remembered the last time she had been at an airport, looking for a flight to San Francisco then. Remembered waiting for Warrick to come and find her even though she knew in her heart that he wasn't coming. Now she was going back there, six months and a week after she left. She wished that it was for better reasons than this.

The flight was almost empty, and Sara had a pick of seats, choosing one with a window view over the top of the wing. The skies were very clear, and she could make out villages and towns far below. She tried to keep her mind on something, watching the TV, listening to music, but her concentration would inevitable fall back on Grissom. Back to the man she had met all those years ago at college, become so enthralled in the subjects he spoke on that she had completely changed her career plans to follow him into forensics. The person whose mind utterly fascinated her, and frustrated her, in it's brilliance. She had never found anything that challenged her quite the way Grissom did. In her ideas, her thinking, the way she viewed scenes of crimes…silently she willed the plane to fly faster, wanting to know more, wanting to hear that Grissom was going to be ok. Not being able to stop the thought that he could already be dead and there was no way she would know.

Greg, as promised, met her at the gate. She was through quickly, as she had only a carry on bag with her. He smiled in greeting, a small smile, but it soothed her nerves. 'Any news?' She asked as she walked over to him.

He shook his head. 'All they've said is he's in surgery.'

For a moment, they stood looking at each other, before, almost as one, they moved to hug each other. For a moment, each breathed in a small amount of comfort in the other's arms.

They walked out to Greg's car, a lab car it looked like, and Sara reasoned that on a day like today, no one would really care what car he took. As they walked she stripped off the fleece, the familiar impressive heat of the Nevada desert instantly making its presence felt. It was such a contrast to the early winter sunshine she had left behind.

Sara waited till they were on the road into town to ask what had happened, noticing that Greg was driving in the general direction of Desert Palm without her needing to ask.

Greg shrugged in response to her question, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes, keeping his emotions to himself. 'We got the call at around nine this morning. We all rushed over to the hospital, but they're doing their usual family only routine, and all we know is he was rushed to surgery at around lunchtime and he's still in there.' He paused for a moment before adding. 'Well, at least he was when I left to pick you up.'

'Thanks for calling me Greg.' Sara said softly.

Greg glanced in her direction, seemed about to shrug again but thought better of it. 'Seemed only right you should know. You've probably known him longer than all of us.'

They sat in silence for the majority of the journey, Sara staring, mostly unseeing, at the passing landscape, desert giving way to building, the outskirts of Vegas, eventually growing more and more populace as they ventured further into the city depths. Sara remembered it all as if she'd been here yesterday, not six months ago. Then again she had lived here long enough that it wasn't likely to fade in her memory anytime in the near future. Finally Greg pulled them into the underground car park of Desert Palm hospital, a car park that was depressingly familiar to Sara given all the nights she had spent there during the investigation of a crime.

Greg stopped at a spot close to the exit, turning off the engine and opening the door. He turned back to Sara when she made no move to exit the vehicle, sat just where she had been all journey. He waited for her to say something, seeing her internal struggle, waiting patiently for her to collect herself.

'Sara- we're here.' He said, rather stupidly, but he didn't know what else to say to return her to the present.

He saw her take a deep breath, blow it out slowly, finally reaching a hand for the door handle. She paused, her hand on the handle, 'God, Greg, why is this so hard? Why did this happen?'

Greg didn't have any of the answers, so instead, reached across, gently placed a hand on her shoulder, and just let it rest there for a moment. 'It's not gonna get any easier.' He said quietly.

Sara finally seemed to reach a resolve, her movements jerky and uncoordinated as she stepped out of the car, Greg joining her and they walked to the entrance of the hospital.

Sara had never had any particular attachment to hospitals till she had started working in forensics. Then they had become a symbol of the hate and rage that were every day occurrences in their job. Or used to be, anyway.

Desert Palms wasn't a bad hospital, it was large and airy, clean at least. Greg guided her to a bank of elevators, pressing the button for the forth floor, the surgical floor where he had left everyone barely an hour before.

They were still sitting, waiting. That was what was driving everyone crazy, the waiting, and it was beginning to show. Almost as one, they turned at the sound of the elevator opening, glancing at them. Almost as one, they did a double take at Sara. Feeling self conscious, Sara looked around for a diversion, but not finding one, she followed Greg to the seated CSIs, greeting them quietly. Catherine and Nick both smiled in greeting, but it was a pained smile, quickly gone. Nick added a hello. She didn't know what Warrick was doing, she could barely manage a look at him.

'Any news?' Sara asked Catherine, shifting slightly on her feet in nervousness.

'No. Not yet. They won't tell us anything.' Catherine said, a bitter quality in her voice.

'Anyone phoned his family- his mother?'

'Brass contacted his mother, but she's not well herself, and can't travel.' Catherine said. 'I don't think he has a lot of other family.'

For a moment, everyone was quiet. Considering that she had been gone six months, Sara was glad there wasn't any awkwardness or general wariness towards her. Well, from most people anyway. The stifling awareness she was getting from Warrick wasn't helping her feel comfortable, but as that was because of an entirely different situation, Sara was happy to ignore it for the moment.

She looked around, spying a desk over to her right, where medical personnel hovered, looking calmly busy. She casually walked over to it as Greg took a seat. Identifying the nurse in charge, she smiled as best she could, asking if there was any news about Gill Grissom yet. Feeling weird using Gris's full name as she couldn't remember the last time she had called him that.

The nurse smiled politely, asking if she was family. Sara thought of lying, telling her she was a niece or something, but not being able to get the words past her lips. Lying was never her strong suit anyway. She shook her head. 'I'm an old friend. His work colleagues contacted me to tell me he was here.' She supplied.

'Well, I'll tell you what I told the others. He's in surgery. He'll be out soon and transferred to the intensive care unit. I'm sure you'll get to see him there if you're patient. That's all I can tell you I'm afraid.'

Sara smiled in understanding, nodding her appreciation and turning to the others. Taking a breath, she walked back over to them. She shook her head when Catherine began to ask if she'd found out anything more. 'What happened?' She asked, taking a seat besides Catherine.

Catherine shrugged. 'I don't know, exactly. We were just finishing up shift when we got the call. GSW to the abdomen, no sign of forced entry, no other injury.'

'Who's got the case?'

'Brass demanded it, but I don't know if the sheriff let him take it. We've all been here, so I don't know what's going on.'

Sara nodded. They settled back into silence, all of them thinking along the lines that if the worrying didn't kill them, the waiting around would.

It was evening when Sara got her first glimpse of Grissom. Only limited number of visitors were allowed in the ICU at a time, she and Greg were the last to visit. The machines, the drips, the drains, Sara saw none of them as she stared in shock at the man lying in the bed. She had never thought of Grissom as small before, as old. But swathed in hospital machinery, his face a close match to the white pillowcase it leaned against, he looked both small and old.

He wasn't intubated, an oxygen mask stifling his face. Sara looked up and away, focusing on a near by window, at the glimpse of darkening sky outside of the window, trying to compose her thoughts, her feelings into some sort of order. But when she looked back at Grissom, still lying deadly still on a bed that was too high off the ground to be normal, Sara felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, wondered if she could choke on the large ball that had lodged itself a the back of her throat. Sara wasn't unhappy when the nurse said they had to leave, that Mr Grissom needed to rest. She hurriedly blinked back tears as Greg briefly caught her hand, squeezed it as they walked out of the unit, feeling guilty that she was glad to escape from the scene.

Catherine was just putting on her coat when they returned to the waiting room attached to the unit. Sara didn't ask, but she offered an explanation anyway. 'I'm in charge, so I've got to be in tonight. I've got to see Lindsey first.'

Nick spoke up then. 'Honest, Cath, we can come in too.'

It was obvious this had been an ongoing discussion. Warrick was nodding, agreeing with what Nick had said.

But Catherine shook her head. 'You don't have to, guys. Ecklie's already called in people to cover the shift for us. I'm only going in so all hell doesn't break loose in the entire shift's absence. Take the time. We'll never get it again.' Her reasoning, she obviously thought, was sound. Nick and Warrick were still shaking their heads, but didn't disagree again.

'Look, visiting times are over. You've been here all day. Go and get some rest. I've a feeling you're gonna need it in the next few days.'

Nick and Warrick glanced at each other, shrugged, their silence showing they were going to do what Catherine wanted, if they didn't agree with it.

They all got ready to leave, Greg bidding them goodnight, telling Catherine he'd see her later. Unfortunately for Greg, there was no one to cover his shift, and the DNA lab was already in a backlog. Sara walked out with Catherine, not because she was necessarily avoiding Warrick. But with all that she wanted to say, she knew the hospital was not the place to say it.

'Where are you staying?' Catherine asked her as they walked out.

Sara shrugged. 'I'll find a hotel.'

'If you've got time, later, can you come by the lab?' Catherine asked her.

Sara turned curious eyes on her.

'We need to talk about some things.' Was all Catherine said in explanation.

Sara shrugged. She couldn't exactly claim to be busy later. 'Sure.'

They reached the ground floor, standing awkwardly in the lobby area. 'Uh, can I offer you a lift anywhere?' Catherine asked.

'No, it's fine. Get home to Lindsey. I'll see you later.' Sara told her. She watched whilst Catherine walked over to the entrance to the underground car park, before turning round herself and walking towards the front entrance. As she walked past the entrance to the stairwell, Nick and Warrick, with Greg walked through the door.

'Hey Sare, you staying in town?' Nick asked.

'Yeah, for a few days.' Sara answered, finding herself again standing around awkwardly in the lobby.

'Cool, we should catch up some time.' Nick said.

'Sure, I'll give you a call.'

Warrick was silent, looking around the lobby.

Nick glanced between him and Sara, before looking at Greg. 'You wanna grab some dinner before you start shift?' He asked.

Greg, even if he hadn't picked up on anything weird between Sara and Warrick, nodded at the sound of food.

'See you guys later.' Nick said, walking off quickly, hoping that the pair would use the time constructively.

The pair watching them walk off turned to each other. 'Tough break, huh?' Warrick said.

Sara frowned slightly.

'You get all settled somewhere else, and this happens.' If Warrick was trying to hide the bitterness in his voice, he wasn't doing a very good job at it.

Sara hadn't wanted to get into anything in the middle of the hospital, much less in the packed lobby, but she wasn't going to stand there and have barbs thrown at her.

'I'm sure Grissom didn't ask to be shot.' She answered mildly.

'You got here mighty quick.' He added, hurt almost seething through his pores.

'The wonders of the aviation age.' Sara said, leaning on sarcasm to shield herself from the obvious connotation.

'Yeah, very convenient.' Warrick said. 'Drop everything and you can be in Vegas the same day.'

Her heart rate was rising with every syllable, every vague assault on her actions. She was sure her face was flushing but still held her temper, her ground.

'I've got to go, get a hotel for the night.' She eventually said.

'Oh yeah. Must be a bit like déjà vu for you.' Warrick commented, almost as if it came to him as an afterthought.

Sara had turned to walk out of the hospital, but turned back at his words, giving him a frown. 'What do you mean by that?' She asked, her voice held much more control than she felt she had.

'Well, dropping everything to come to Vegas for Grissom.' Warrick said. 'That's what you did before, wasn't it?'

Sara shook her head. A million and one replies floated through her brain, but her anger was shaking any control she still maintained, and she knew that if this started, it wasn't going to end peacefully. 'Whatever.' She muttered, turning on her heel, stalking off to the front entrance. If Warrick had a reply, she didn't hear it, too caught up in trying to stop the impending wave of anger from crashing down on her. Because in her state, it couldn't just be anger. It would be the tears she had refused to so far cry all day. It would be the pain at seeing Grissom lying looking so broken in a bed upstairs. It would be feeling the hurt and the confusion and the anger all over again at what had happened six months ago, that however much she tried to resolve to another time and place never quite left her. It would be seeing the pain in his eyes, the anger that had all been aimed at her.

Anger that she couldn't understand, didn't get. He had left. He had been the one to walk out that morning without a simple goodbye. He had been the one to effectively put the dampeners on any relationship they might have had, so why was he so hostile towards her. Why was he angry at her?

She hailed a cab just outside the hospital, lucking out and getting one that was just driving past. As she sat back against the seat, telling the driver to take her to a hotel anywhere but on the strip, she happened to glance back at the entrance to the hospital. More than surprised to see Warrick standing there, watching helplessly as the cab sped off. For a second he caught her eye, before he looked away, turning back into the hospital. In his look, poorly disguised, Sara was sure there had been regret. She just wasn't sure which part he regretted most. That she had gone, or that she had come back again.