Under the Influence.

Part 2

Thank you for the kind reviews I got for part 1

Grissom's POV

Note:  It is a Grissom/Sara story, and it'll have a happy ending, I promise!

Eventually, I left.  She seemed so exhausted that it felt safe to leave her alone, while I made my phone calls and went to the grocery store. 

When I returned at noon, I went straight to her room to check up on her.  She was breathing evenly and hadn't moved from her balled up position in the middle of the bed.

I sat on the floor, and looked around.

Her room seemed to be her sanctuary from the world outside.  The curtains were dark and thick and they kept the room safe from sunlight and traffic noises.  As far as I could see, she didn't have any booze here.  There were books piled everywhere, though.  Textbooks most of all; a few mysteries.  Each had a bookmark in the middle, as if she had been unable to concentrate on any of them for long. 

"How are your days like, Sara?" I asked softly, "What do you do for a diversion?"

Stupid questions; by now it was clear what she had been doing. 

There was a time when I had tried to help her find a diversion, but she resisted me and I didn't insist.

I guess I would have known how to help if she had been someone else.  After all, I've helped other people and I can be friendly. I mean, I was able to help Warrick.  I'm friendly with Catherine and it's never been difficult to have her over for dinner at my place; we're friends and that's that.  But with Sara, I'd always had the feeling that there was something else behind any gesture of mine.  I couldn't just take her somewhere; it would always feel like a date. If I took her to dinner, I would want to reach for her hand and if we went to the movies, I'd spend two hours trying not to put my arm around her shoulders.

I was ashamed to admit this, but apparently I didn't know how to be her friend anymore.

A soft moan from her brought me out of these gloomy thoughts.  She was waking up and  

I froze.  I knew I should leave but a part of me wanted to see her wake up… Just in case I never got another chance.

She sighed and turned until she was on her back.  She groaned when she tried to sit up, so she stopped.  It took her a little while, but finally she slowly sat up, moaning a little and keeping her eyes shut.

She lifted a trembling hand to rub her face and winced when she accidentally touched the bruise.  She gingerly touched it again and then she slowly opened her eyes.  She looked down and examined her bandaged hand.  She shook her head briefly, as if she couldn't believe this was happening to her.

She kept her head down for a moment.  Finally, gathering all her strength, she swung her legs off the bed and started unbuttoning her blouse. 

I quickly stood up and cleared my throat to warn her of my presence.

She cried out in fright and turned around, almost falling back on the bed.

"Sara, Sara, it's Ok, it's me!" I said

"Grissom!" she gasped, more angry than scared now, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see if you were all right-"

"I am." She said evasively, turning her head away from me and covering her bruise with her good hand, "Please, leave."

"All right," I said, trying to placate her by retreating to the hallway. "I'll be in the kitchen."

**

She took a long shower. 

When she finally appeared, she was wearing sweatpants and thick socks and her hair was still wet.

She was in pain.  She must have a headache and by the way she was holding her bandaged hand close to her, it was obvious that it was hurting, too.  She silently accepted some aspirin and a glass of water.

"Put this on your forehead," I said, handing her a plastic bag filled with crushed ice.  She carefully pressed it against her face and blindly felt around for a chair and sat. After a while she removed the bag, but she kept her eyes closed for a while.  I stared at her.  It was shocking to see her like this.  Without all the make up she'd been wearing lately, her skin was blemished, and purple blotches under her eyes further marred it.

She suddenly opened her eyes and looked straight at me.

"What?" she glared, "I look like hell, I know. Do me a favor and look somewhere else."

"Drink this," I said, placing a tall glass in front of her.

"What is it?" she sniffed the thick liquid and made a face.

"Hangover cure. Drink it." I insisted, "It smells foul but trust me, it'll help. They used to make pitchers of this in College"

She held her breath and drank half.  Her face contorted.  She would have looked funny in other circumstances.

"Oh, yuck, what did you put in this?"

"Finish it." I said evasively.  Her lips trembled and she hesitated.  "It'll help, I promise."

She sighed and drank the rest.  She put the ice back on her bruise and closed her eyes again.

I kept busy, fixing a salad.  I had bought just enough groceries to feed her lunch and dinner.  She would be away for a long time and it didn't make sense to buy more. 

I fixed two plates and placed one in front of her. 

"I hope you like mushrooms" I said brightly, sitting beside her. "Eat, Sara."

She put the ice bag down and picked up a fork.  She played with her food for a while, but it was clear that she wasn't hungry.  After a moment she cleared her throat.

 "Grissom." She said, looking at her plate, "I…I am sorry about this.  I made a mistake and…well… I learned my lesson." She lifted her gaze, "You don't have to watch over me.  I won't drink again."

"I believe you." I said gently, "But this wasn't a one-time binge, Sara.  We both know there's something more serious going on here."

"You don't think I can stop on my own?" There was a touch of resentment in her voice.

"You might be able to stop." I admitted, "But what worries me is the fact that you started to drink in the first place.  There is always a reason for this.  Do you remember what I told you about a friend?" I paused, waiting for her answer. I insisted. "Sara, do you remember what I said?"

"Yes," she replied, exasperated, "But I don't need to talk to anybody!  It's not his problem anyway and it's certainly not yours!"

"Of course it is." I replied calmly, "I care about you. And yes, I am concerned about the lab, too.  If a defense lawyer learns about this, every case you have worked on this year will be put under investigation by Internal Affairs…"

"Let them," she said defiantly, "My work is fine!"

"… And we'll end up losing half of those cases because it's more politically correct to be a sober murderer than a drunk investigator." I finished callously, "You're always saying how much you care about the victims, Sara; you don't want that to happen, do you?"

She angrily stabbed a few bits of lettuce and didn't answer. 

"We'll need to keep this between you and me." I continued, "I called Fromanski.  He filed the call as an accident due to a third party that left the scene., and nobody tested you for alcohol; he says we're safe and I believe him." I waited for a reaction but didn't get any, so I went on with my plans. "Tonight you'll come to the lab and fill out requests for paid medical leave and a three-week vacation."

"Three weeks! No way!" she was outraged, "I'm working on a case and I have it almost figured it out!"

"Sara, you can't go back to the lab," I said emphatically, "Any lab, for that matter." I finished, in case she simply tried to quit.  "You'll hand me all the documentation concerning your current cases and file whatever you have pending.  Then you'll dedicate three weeks to yourself." I took a deep breath, "This friend I told you about has a clinic that passes as a 'spa'; it caters to movie stars and public figures with addiction problems, it's very discreet.  Don is a dedicated person and I trust him."

She sighed.  She seemed to be resigned to do this.

"How much is it going to cost me?"

I hesitated; I hadn't bothered to ask Don and I had assumed that I'd be paying. 

I couldn't tell her that of course.

"Sara, you don't have to worry about that now."

"I'll get the money, Grissom." She replied, "I just need to know how much."

"You'll have to ask him."  I said evasively.  I tentatively reached for her hand, "Sara, we'll be fine; I have money too, all right? All that matters is you."

She looked at my hand on hers and all her bitterness seemed to dissolve.  Her eyes filled with tears.

"I told you I…I .." she gulped, "I said awful things to you today."

"It's Ok-"

"It's not Ok." She contradicted.  "But the worst is that I still believe in what I said.  And I'm sorry, Grissom, but-"

"Sara, I understand," I said quickly, "Believe me, I do.  This is a very emotional time for you, and-"

"Grissom" she interrupted.  She took a deep breath and looked at me in the eye.  A tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't want you to think that I'm ungrateful.  I mean, you're trying to be nice and you've done all this to help me,  but…right now you're the last person I want to talk to." She looked down, "I can't take it, Ok?… I'd rather be alone for a while."

I released her hand.

"I understand." I said mechanically.  I gently pushed her plate towards her, "Eat a little, ok?"

I took my untouched plate and threw the food in the garbage can.  I cleaned up the mess  I'd made while preparing lunch- another whirl of activity to keep me from thinking.  But it was inevitable. 

I thought of the many times we had eaten lunch together and how I had taken for granted her company and her acceptance of me and all my quirks.

Now that even a little meal together seemed out of reach, I realized that happiness had been just a few inches away.  If I had extended my hand, the world would have been mine.

**

She looked uncomfortable as CSI personnel fussed over her.  The guys wanted to test her car to find clues about the perp who had caused her accident, but she gently persuaded them not to bother.   Nick insisted on having her cases handed to him and promised to keep her up to date in their developments.  She was evasive about what her plans were for this sudden vacation, but Greg kept after her, asking where she was going and with whom.  Warrick was more relaxed about it, simply suggesting what places to visit.

Catherine was more practical, taking Sara aside to teach her how to use make up to cover up her bruise.  Sara chuckled a little at that.

Only Brass didn't say anything; he just watched her.  When Sara met her gaze, she reddened and avoided looking his way again.  That was odd but I forgot all about it afterwards.  We had so much to do.

She held back tears when she handed me her keys and her gun.  It wasn't the first time she did it; she had gone on vacation before.  But this time she was leaving for a longer period of time and the circumstances were different.  Maybe she even thought she was leaving for good.  So she was sad, but her tears were also of anger and frustration. 

We didn't talk about this, though.  She used the little time she had to instruct Nick on how to handle her cases and Nick listened, good naturedly.

**

She was silent until we saw the building.  The clinic was far away from the city and it was set among some rocky hills.  It looked beautiful under the full moon.

"Three weeks," she sighed, "It's too long just to be sitting around."

"Maybe they'll teach you macramé," I teased but she didn't even glare.

She remained subdued as we entered the property.

It was a quiet place and very well staffed.  We didn't have to wait around; someone was already waiting for us.  This was clearly the kind of place where most visitors came at night.

A nurse came for her soon after we arrived, and the last I said to her was that I'd visit and to please call me if she needed anything.  She nodded and clutching her bag she followed the nurse.

Just before she went through the door, she turned.  She smiled and waved.

It was her shy smile.  The one I fell in love with when we met.

TBC