A/N: Another chapter for you guys! Hope you enjoy, and thanks for the reviews!
"Grissom!" Sara shouted, rushing out of the glass door. She could see Grissom's retreating form nearing the road. "Gris! Wait up!" she shouted again, this time noticing his step falter.
He turned to glance over his shoulder, sighing. But he did stop, shoving his trembling hands in his pockets as he waited. She caught up to him, noticing how tense he was.
"Grissom, are you ok? And don't give me that bullshit 'I'm fine' either. Tell me the truth," she said, putting a hand on his arm.
He took in a deep breath of air, holding it a moment before letting it out slowly, though it did nothing to relieve his tension. He stared at the cars passing them by on the road for a moment. "I just…can't comprehend why they think I would kill my mother. She was…everything. The only constant in my life. And now she's gone, and they think I'm responsible."
"I don't. I know you didn't…couldn't," she amended, looking at him with such concern that it made him want to cry. Never before had any woman even pretended to care about him so much.
"But that woman…" Grissom trailed off, shaking his head. That woman, Micah, boiled his blood. She was like a female Ecklie, living only to cause him trouble. But this, this was going too far. From what he'd heard, they had no real evidence against him, yet Micah was already prepared to slap some cuffs on him. Over what? A single hair and the fact that his mother had bought a life insurance plan? It didn't matter to them that she'd bought the plan fifteen years ago.
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, now disheveled. His whole haggard appearance made it seem as if he had just rolled out of bed after a long and terrible battle with the sheets.
Sara gave him a small smile, moving her hand up to squeeze his shoulder. "You should go home. Get some sleep. It'll do you some good."
He shook his head again. "I've had sleep. Sleep doesn't do anything."
"It helps."
"That's when the nightmare start," Grissom said, then clamped his mouth shut. He hadn't meant to reveal that to her, it had just come out.
Sara's expression softened a bit more, and she squeezed his shoulder again, the slight pressure giving him some comfort. "C'mon, Gris. Let me get you away from here. Away from that woman."
Grissom stared blankly at the ground for a moment, and Sara felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. That'll work."
* * * * * * * * * *
Nick heard the sound of things slamming long before he came into view of the breakroom. Pausing at the corner, he debated with whether his coffee was worth confronting whoever was in there. He glanced into the DNA lab, where Greg was looking at him with wide eyes.
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you, Nick. Catherine's on a rampage," he warned, turning back to his work.
Nick nodded. "Thanks for the warning, Greggo." Swallowing a lump in his throat, he made his way into the break room.
By then, Catherine seemed to have given up throwing things and had conceded to sitting at the table, her head in her hands. She glanced up as Nick came in and sighed. "I tried to bring in the hotel manager for another go round, but he's gone. Hotel owner says he quit right after he was brought in for questioning the first time."
Nick stopped where he stood. "He left town?"
Catherine shrugged. "Left town, left the state, left the country. I don't know. All I know is that he left and didn't give an address."
Nick slid into a seat across from her, leaning over. "Only the guilty flee."
"Or the scared." She sighed, running a hand over her face. "It was him," she said, shaking her head slightly. "It had to be. Why else would he run?"
"Brass put out an APB?"
"Yeah, but he's not sure what good it'll do. Half a day or so…he's out of state," she decided gravely.
"Can we get a warrant for his house, see if he has any evidence there to implicate him?"
Catherine shrugged. "I don't know. Fingerprints in the hotel room that he manages, the fact that he lied during questioning, and the fact that he skipped town after interrogation. We could ask, but I'm not making any guarantees."
They looked up as Warrick stepped in, a stack of papers in his hand. He sighed as he sat, tossing them haphazardly onto the table. "Hey guys. How's Gris doing?" he asked, having heard through the grapevine what had happened.
Nick shook his head. "Not too good, I think. He kinda had a breakdown in the interrogating room."
Warrick frowned. "Why are you interrogating Gris?"
"Protocol, War."
"We knew we wouldn't be able to ask him questions about it, so we got help from days," Catherine explained. "But she…she seems to have it stuck in her head that Grissom's the one who did it."
Warrick made a face. "Gris? Gris could never hurt anyone. I've worked with the guy for years; he's never raised a hand to anyone, unless they had a gun in their hands or something."
"Yeah, I know. I've worked with him longer than you. And trust me, the man almost idolized his mother," Catherine added.
Warrick sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Well, we got the guy on my hit and run, so I can help you guys out if you need it."
Nick nodded. "Sure. The more night shift we have on this-"
"The more Ecklie can accuse us of not being objective. Putting things in Grissom's favor because he's our boss," Catherine interrupted.
Nick and Warrick were silent for a moment, both trying to figure things out. Catherine shook her head and stood up. "We're going to have to keep going. With Grissom out of work, I'm going to run the shift, I guess. Just until he comes back. We can't shut down the whole night shift lab because of this. Mobley will have our heads." She looked at Warrick. "And shift's over for you, War. Go home and get some rest. Nick and I have to see about a warrant."
He sighed, nodding as he stood up. "All right. But you guys let me know if I can do anything."
* * * * * * * * * * *
Grissom was silent the entire ride back to his townhouse. He propped his head against his hand and leaned it against the window, closing his eyes. If Sara hadn't known better, she would have thought he was asleep. But she knew that sleep didn't come easily to him, especially in a car.
She reached over and took his hand in hers. His eyes opened slowly, looking down at their hands for a moment, but he soon closed them again, making no motion to remove his hand from hers. She squeezed it gently. "You doing any better?" she asked, though she was pretty sure of the answer.
"I suppose," he said, turning to look at her. He glanced down at their hands again, then turned his hand over to hold hers. "Thank you, Sara. For staying with me. For everything."
She smiled. "I couldn't let you go through this alone, Grissom."
He gave her a small smile in return, then turned serious again. "I know things haven't been well between us for quite some time. And I know that it's mostly my fault…"
"Grissom, we don't need to talk about this."
"But we do. I mean, it's driving me mad. I can't talk to you, I can't touch you. I can't even be in the same room without feeling it."
"Feeling what?" she asked, turning to glance at him. He looked so worn and tired, so old. Losing his mother had torn down some of the walls he'd built around his heart, making him feel vulnerable.
"A sense of loss. We lost something great."
She nodded. "Our friendship. Because I asked you to dinner."
He sighed, realizing that the conversation wasn't quite going the way he had wanted. He was trying to get closer to her, but was only succeeding in pushing her further away. He felt her grip on his hand slacken, and held it tighter. "It's my fault. I panicked, and you know what happens when I panic. I push everything away." He looked at the window for a moment. "It's not that I wanted to say no, anyway."
She shot him a glance. "You didn't? You seemed so certain."
"Hell, I wanted to say yes. I just couldn't. I mean, as much as I want to 'see what happens', I can't do it."
"Is this about the supervisor/subordinate thing?"
"Slightly, yes. Dating you could result in both of us losing our jobs. Everything I've ever done regarding you: promotions, evaluations, even bringing you to work for me, would be put under suspicion. Mobley could think you got them because you were dating the boss."
Sara nodded, understanding his point. "But it's not true. I mean, look at the evidence," she said, referring to his famous mantra of only believing the evidence.
Grissom shook his head. "Doesn't matter. They could still fire the both of us."
"They wouldn't fire you. You made that lab what it is today. No way they could just 'let you go'. You're far too valuable to them. I mean, what's your solve rate? 93 percent or something like that?"
Grissom gave her a smile small. "So far, 94 percent."
"See. They can't afford to let you go. I can guarantee you'll be snatched up by another lab in a second."
"What about you?"
"I could get another job too, Grissom."
He looked down at their hands again. "But I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly. She looked at him, surprised. He met her gaze steadily. "I realize now that everything I love could be gone in an instant. And I don't want to lose you without knowing we gave it a go. I…" he trailed off, unsure of what it was that he wanted to say.
But Sara seemed to get the message. She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I know, Grissom," she whispered. "I know."