Dare-SoƱar: My sincere apologies for this taking so long, but I suffered from severe allergic reaction to writer's block and was bedridden for weeks.
EXTENDED, EVEN MORE CONFUSING GENRE EXPLANATION: This is a hard one to judge on genres. It is mildly Grissom/Sara, more emphasis on tying up loose ends on their unknown history. Greg/OC wise, it is pretty humorous/dramatic/slightly tragic. I know, weird.
EXTENDED SUMMARY: Sara quits after "Butterflied", but is not forgotten easily. Greg is fired, but not in the way you would think. The Federal Bureau of Investigation's Behavioral Science Unit decide to try a trail investigation experiment, and use the Las Vegas Crime Lab as their every own personal guinea pig... Greg meets a past friend of whom left under mysterious circumstances, can he now get the answers that were denied to him for so long? ...And what the heck will happen to Grissom and Sara now? (Author's sincere apologies to S/N shippers)
DISCLAIMER: Well, since I own CSI, then-gets hit in the head with a flying pig Ow.
SETTING: Like, two seconds after "Butterflied".
1- "An Ending in the Beginning"
Grissom felt the usual pain again; the one he always receives after he knows a killer will go free. It weighed down his heart, and so did his words.
He knew he shouldn't have done it, but no human could live with such repressed feelings, and for so long. He hung his head, feeling totally broken.
Sara stood rigid, behind the one-sided mirror, almost feeling as if she shouldn't have heard that, even though she knew it was meant for her. Her past hung around the room, almost suffocating her. She can't go on with this, not anymore. The way he had hurt her, the way he would look at her, they way she couldn't forget... the way she had cried...
She left the room, a broken woman. She couldn't go on with this anymore. Not anymore. She walked out of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, and just continued walking. She didn't want to return, it hurt too bad.
She hurt too much.
Grissom knew what would happen, the next night of work, when Sara never showed. He felt the terrible emptiness; he knew what it was like to work with someone for so long and always try to brush aside the memories.
"Since when did you care about beauty?" She had asked, and he had replied the simple truth, "Since I met you."
"I wish I was more like you, Grissom, I wish I never felt anything..." She had said, pointing out his obvious flaws.
"When I awake hearing her screams, you can tell me it is just empathy..." Sara had always known him, always knew how to hurt him badly. They were never good for each other, but could never get enough. Sara was Grissom's drug, perfect, heavenly while she lasted, but a bitter pain when the dream faded, when she became nothing but a lost dream.
When she had been absent for two days, Grissom knew he had to do it, as much as a boss as a... whatever he was to her emotionally. The word "Ex" didn't seem to fit.
So he found himself knocking on her door, nervously standing outside in the hallway. Sara was inside, he knew, he could almost feel her.
"Who is it?" Her voice fell on him, almost calming him, until reality crashed back.
"Me," he said simply. It was all he had to say. The door opened, and Sara stood there, looking so normal, so perfect...
They stared at each other, the wind whistling past Grissom as he finally gathered the courage to say, "You're going to quit, aren't you?"
She didn't cry, she knew she couldn't in front of him. She never cried. She stood, the same Sara, always missing something.
"I can't," was all she said, and she handed him her resignation letter.
Grissom nodded and took it. His eyes filled, he couldn't help it, with the postponed tears he had always denied. Her eyes remained dry and cold.
"Don't you ever cry? You never cry." He turned and left, without so much of a good-bye. She shut the door and only then did she cry.
"The truth is, Gil, I have cried too much..." She whispered.
"Why, when I close my eyes, do I see you? / What, when you say you love me, allows this to be? / And the moonbeams cover me, / Why do I wait for you? / How, when I cry in agony, do you comfort me? / Who, if there is somebody, gave such a love to me? / And the moonbeams cry with me, / Why do I love you? / How can I forget you?"
-"Moonbeams"
