Under the Influence
Part 4
Please remember, this IS a G/S story…
Thank you for reviewing this story. It means a lot to me that you like it, since don't speak English and I have some difficulties with descriptions…
I'm hoping to finish this up on Monday.
**
My eighth visit was my last.
I didn't know that, of course; otherwise I wouldn't have enjoyed so much the drive to the Clinic. Because there were always fewer vehicles the closest one got there, I had a chance to relax and think of what to say to Sara, of what news to give her, and to glance at the book I was going to give her that day. It was difficult to bring anything else. The staff checked everything and the rules were: don't bring anything eatable (fruits could be fermented and turned into alcohol, candy was fattening); no flowers (they had enough, thank you); nothing that could be used to harm the inmates (sorry, that word is mine, but it applies well); no stuffed animals, no radio sets, nothing that could be used to smuggle drugs or booze…
That day I was going to give her a slim volume of Emily Dickinson's poetry.
While I drove I played a little fantasy game: I pretended that I was visiting Sara at a fancy resort in Florida. In these little games of mine, it was usually Italy but that day it was Florida. Then my fantasy turned into something else.
I was visiting because she had just given birth to her first baby. Why that particular fantasy? I didn't know, but I was happy, driving and choosing names for the baby: Sophie… Joseph… Andrea… Andrea Grissom? no, that was a mouthful. Sophie Grissom sounded just right-
Of course I immediately rolled my eyes and told myself to stop it.
All my fantasy games ended as soon as the clinic came into view. It was a beautiful place; it was elegant; there were fancy plants everywhere and the carpets were thick and expensive, but that didn't matter because too soon you realized that it was like a prison. You left your ID, keys, and cell phone at the reception, and you knew that there would always be a nurse keeping an eye on you and your friend.
As I waited for Sara under the big umbrella, I kept hoping she'd feel better. Yesterday she had seemed ok, but the day before she had been distracted and sullen, even angry. She hadn't talked much and it was almost at the end of our 50 minutes that she had bitterly told me about her parents.
"They said that everything's fine. That I'm fine." She said, shredding a tissue in tiny pieces while she spoke, "That's all they kept saying."
"Sara, they were showing their confidence in you." I tried to explain but for some reason that angered her.
"Don't you ever get tired of being reasonable, Grissom?" she retorted angrily, "Don't you ever get mad at something or at someone?" she snorted and looked away, "Ha, look who I'm asking!"
She threw away the shredded tissue and covered her face with both hands.
"I can't take this. I'm trapped, trapped, trapped! And in case you're wondering, no, I'm not fine, I'm angry, I'm supremely pissed off, and I hate this place. I hate that they cut flowers to brighten the rooms of drunks like me! I hate that all this money is wasted on weak, stupid, useless people who don't deserve it!" she wasn't crying, she was just so angry she couldn't breath. I moved my chair and sat beside her. I put my arm on her shoulders, "Sara? Are they staying in Vegas? Your parents, I mean."
"No. They say they trust me to get well."
"Would you like them to stay? I'll talk to them if you want."
"No. No, don't. Grissom." She lowered her hands and looked earnestly at me. "You'll be there, right? Even if I don't do well? I want to do well." She said quickly, "I want to get out and never come back, but if I don't make it, will you help me?"
"Sara, I'll always be there for you. Don't doubt it for a minute. No matter what."
And she nodded and took a deep breath and gradually calmed down.
There were times when I questioned Don's treatment, particularly after that visit. However, the fact that she was looking better gave me a little hope. Even her outburst had been positive. She was talking, she was showing her anger, and she was realistic enough to know that staying at the clinic was only a step on her way to recovery.
I was thinking about this, trying not to remember my fantasy about her having a baby –my baby, when she came to meet me. She was happier this time.
She smiled widely as she told me about her occupational therapy and the books she'd read, and more importantly…
"I have a job outside this week," she said proudly, "Since yesterday, I've been reading children's books at St. Mary School."
"Really?" I was surprised, "They let you go out?" I immediately regretted saying that. She wasn't a prisoner, for God's sake. Fortunately she didn't mind.
"It's a form of community service," she explained, "We're sponsored by some ladies from a Catholic Church. We do things like reading to the blind or to kids."
Church, kids, those weren't words I associated with Sara, my CSI partner. She was smiling, knowing very well what I was thinking.
"Next week I'm being assigned to another job, though. I still don't know if it will be more reading or if I'll have to help organize a party for the Senior Citizens Center, whatever that is." She crossed her fingers, "I'm hoping for the reading, of course."
We laughed at that. She looked at me for a moment and then she patted my hand.
"I want to apologize for my outburst the other day." I smiled and she added, "I want to thank you for everything you've done."
"You would have done the same for me, Sara"
"Oh, no. I don't have friends in high places like these." She looked around. Then she gazed at me. She seemed to be choosing her next words very carefully, "Frankly, if the roles had been reversed, I don't think I would have been able to deal with it. I'm so used to you being perfect."
"I am not perfect," I frowned. "You've pointed out my flaws many times, yourself."
"Yeah, I have. But it's not the same, Grissom. You'd never do anything as stupid as getting drunk and putting lives in danger. But you're right, I pointed out any flaw I perceived… and I've been angry at you for not acting as I expected you to. I…" she hesitated, "That's what I want to talk about today. It's kind of embarrassing." She admitted, and she blushed a little, "It's a discovery I made these last days. You see, I'd always seen myself as an independent woman, a feminist, even. Someone who stands on her own-" she paused. When she spoke again I thought she was changing the subject. "I tried hard to be independent.. You see, my parents... They, hum, they are these perennial hippies, care free and trusting. Too trusting in my opinion. I felt they needed someone to watch over them and I did that. And if I had a problem I solved it by myself because I knew they wouldn't do anything; they'd only say that everything turned out fine in the end. And I thought I knew better, but I'm not sure of that now. I was just a kid, after all. Then, I had to leave, and…" she gulped. "When I went away to College, I found myself alone and without anybody to take care of except myself. And I wasn't really prepared for that. You see, I was good at telling others what to do but it was hard for me to make choices for myself. I mean, I made choices but I was never sure of them." She smiled and added, "And I didn't know how to act sometimes. I was harsh and not very well liked." She smiled knowingly, "I guess I haven't changed that much."
"Sara…" I frowned. I didn't like to hear her put herself down. "You are a-"
"Please, let me…" she interrupted gently. "Anyway…I studied hard and chose a career that I wasn't sure of until I went to a Seminar and met a charismatic Entomologist, Doctor Gil Grissom…"
"Charismatic?" I frowned.
"Oh, yes. You're very seductive when you're teaching Seminars." She smiled.
We looked at each other and for a moment I was sure we were thinking of the same thing: Those happy days at the Seminar, our Garden of Eden…
She lowered her gaze.
"Grissom, these past two days I've been reading book after book of fairy tales…" she said, apparently changing the subject again.. "I never read those when I was a child, but I knew enough of them to reject them for discouraging girls from standing up for themselves. Well, I read them yesterday and the little kids loved them… Me, I hated the stories at first, but… last night I was thinking about them, and… well," she smiled nervously, "This is embarrassing. As I told you, I'd always thought I was an independent woman, but now … I've realized that all my life I've been expecting someone to take care of me. Someone who'll validate what I do and what I am. You see, I've not been independent and self-sufficient. All this time I've been depending on you."
"Sara, I don't think so."
"Listen," she said and suddenly she was enthusiastic about this. "I wasn't sure about the career I'd chosen until I met you. Before that, I thought I'd chosen law enforcement just to piss my parents. But once you took me under your wing, I felt more secure in my choice, and I wasn't just Sara Sidle, I was Gil Grissom's friend! Suddenly I was more popular! Later, when I got my first job, I called you, not my friends or my parents. After all, nobody else approved of me working for the PD, but you did; you'd even written a great letter of recommendation. Later, when I told you I wasn't happy with that job, you helped me find another. You… you kept solving my problems and fighting my battles. And when I asked you to think of me if there ever was something in Las Vegas, I simply waited for your call. I wasn't surprised when you asked me to come. I knew that you'd solve my life again."
There was a moment of silence. I was too overwhelmed by her words to really analyze them. Still, I tried to say something.
"Sara…" I cleared my throat, "I may have made a few calls to help you, but you are a fine investigator. That's what got you those jobs, and that's what made me help you in the first place."
She didn't really listen to me; she only wanted to tell me what she had discovered.
"I was happy to work here and to be learning from you…Only…I realized that I wasn't as special to you as I had been when I was far away. Hum…" she looked down, "You couldn't take care of me all the time. And I… I found myself getting angry with you for not being more sensitive, for not showing your feelings, for not living up to his image of you that I had constructed over the years." She took my hand and looked into my eyes, "I'm so sorry."
"It's… It's ok." I stammered. "I'm… I'm sorry that I wasn't-"
"I expected you to love me, too." She said candidly and I suddenly felt a stab of pain in my gut. "You see? Just like in a fairy tale, I expected you to love me so I could live happily ever after!" she released my hand, "I kept harassing you -"
"That's a strong word." I frowned, but she immediately interrupted me.
"Grissom, I touched you, I kept asking you out- That's harassment." she grew serious then, "I was over the line and still you didn't put me in my place. I misunderstood that. I thought you loved me and just needed a little encouragement. I didn't understand that you just couldn't do it; that your life was already settled."
She was repeating the words I had uttered only a few months ago, after Debbie Marlin's murder… The pain in my gut only deepened and maybe something showed in my face because she briefly put her hand on mine.
"You couldn't love me the way I wanted you to." She amended kindly, "And it wouldn't have been such a big deal, you know? If my feelings for you had been like the ones I had for Hank, I would have dealt with rejection more easily. Instead it shattered me. Suddenly, I felt truly alone. Again, I found myself having to take care of me and not knowing how to do it. It was hard. I couldn't sleep, and the cases became harder to deal with. So… I drank to be able to sleep a little; and then I drank to forget that I wasn't strong; that I wasn't who I thought I was." She said slowly, "So you see… when I said that you were bad for my self-esteem, I was being unfair to you. I expected you to solve a problem that had started years ago."
"Sara…" I gulped, "You're my friend. You had every right to expect me to care about you-"
"I told you one truth at least." She said as if I hadn't spoken, "I gave you my life and you didn't ask for it. You're just too wise to do that. I realize that now, Grissom. Now I understand your detachment during our investigations, or why you don't let your feelings take a hold of yourself. You know very well that there are consequences to every action. You care about your job and the people you work with. I was only thinking of me." She took a deep breath, "I should have been more like you all these years."
"Sara, don't." I closed my eyes, trying to find the right words, "Don't ever be like me. Ever."
"Why not? Did you ever get drunk enough to almost kill yourself and others.?" She asked. "Of course not. You'd never do that."
This was becoming too painful. What made it worse was the fact that she was detailing all my flaws as if they were qualities
"You feel things, Sara." I argued, "You still open your heart to others, while I don't do that anymore. I sometimes wish I were more like you."
"Well, that wouldn't be very wise, but thank you." She smiled.
After a moment of silence she spoke softly.
"You solved another problem or mine by bringing me here." she squeezed my hand, "I promise you I'll work hard so I don't get in trouble again."
"Sara, I was glad to help…" I mumbled, "I mean, I'm glad that you're getting better. I'd do anything-"
"Thank you." She smiled; a sweet, wide smile that melted me. "I want to ask you a favor now. A friend's favor." She leant a little closer.
"Sara…" I mumbled, and my heartbeat quickened, because I was going to say IT. "I'll do anything you ask me to."
"Really, Grissom?" she studied my face for a moment. "Thank you. It means a lot to me, believe me. Could you… could you tell Nick that I'm here?"
I paused. The stab of pain that I'd felt in my gut was spreading, spreading to my spine and to my head.
I forced myself to speak.
"Why him?"
"He'll understand."
"…And you think I won't?" I blurted out.
"You've already spent too much time on me." She said reasonably. "You have other worries, Grissom."
"But I could come…" I started, but something stopped me. She had asked for Nick and if it had to do with this new understanding of herself, I had to accept it. I had prayed for her to ask me anything and she just had.
Ironically, her own words echoed in my head, Don't you ever get tired of being reasonable?
Yes, I got tired sometimes. But I forced myself to be reasonable for her sake.
"I'll tell him." I said softly. She nodded and patted my hand again.
"Thanks." She smiled, "I appreciate that. And Gris, listen…I want you to know that I'll never forget what you've done for me."
"Sara, you're my friend. I'll do any-" I stopped. I'd already said IT and it had blown in my face. "I'm glad you're getting better." I said instead. "I admire you, Sara."
"That means a lot to me." She said and she turned serious. "I want you to know too, that I can stand on my own feet now. This… it has made me stronger. I've learned a lot about myself and others, and… You don't need to worry anymore." She smiled, "I'll be all right."
That was her sign that the visit had come to an end. She always said 'I'll be all right' just before going back inside.
I sat there, expecting her to get up and leave, like she had the other times I had visited. She didn't.
"So…" I said.
"Take care of yourself." She said smiling. And still she didn't move.
I understood then. She wanted to see me walk down my own path to my own door this time. I stood up and looked at the long path that I'd have to walk. I didn't think I could do it, not with her looking, but I had to. I smiled a goodbye and started walking, self-consciously. Suddenly the path seemed too long and the door seemed to be out of my reach, and the pain in my head was becoming unbearable. But I walked on. At the last minute, though, I looked back at her. There were tears rolling down her cheeks but she smiled brightly for my sake. I was about to walk back when a nurse opened the door and called me. She was waving my cell phone.
"You have an urgent call, Dr. Grissom."
I didn't take it; I needed to see if Sara was really crying, but when I turned again she was already walking away.
TBC… the happy ending's coming…soon…
