Title: Just One More
Author: Battus philenor
Disclaimer: CSI is not mine.
A/N: This story follows season 5 episode one. So do not read this if you wish to remain unspoiled.
Turning the key she lets herself into her cold, empty apartment. One shift down after her two week sabbatical; she knows a very big thank you needs to be passed on to Grissom for keeping the incident quiet.
Grissom, while there was no discussion at work as she had hoped; he did, in his supervisory role acknowledge the issue and ask about the counseling agreed upon that fateful night. And while nothing dramatic had changed between them that night, they had talked more openly then they had in years.
Focusing mostly on work and her lack of a diversion; while not a new topic for them, it was perhaps one which needed to be reiterated, they stayed up all night talking.
Adjusting the burner now to the highest setting, she moves the kettle there as she reaches for her favorite cup to drop her teabag in. Conscious; not for the first time, that her first instinct had indeed been to grab for a beer. While it was her previous drink of choice after work, there would be no alcohol kept in her house any more.
Having made a point of opening every single one and pouring them down the drain in front of Grissom, knowing as she did it that he didn't trust her not to just go out and buy more. She promised then; not only to him but more importantly to herself, to never drink again.
And while Sara didn't think the word alcoholic fit her; she did recognize that it was harder to say no to the second drink after the first one was down her throat. That feeling of wanting just one more was always present, no matter how many she had downed. Usually by the fourth one, the thought of stopping had totally exited her brain. So it was definitely easier to make that promise not to pick up another drink again, while sober.
The whistling of the kettle brought her out of her memories of that night, and the look, not of disappointment but of panic on Grissom's face. Disappointment she was used to, she could have accepted that, but to see him actually frightened for her, dismantled her completely.
Holding the warm cup between her hands reminded her of the ever present chill in the small one bedroom apartment. She was forced to remember, all too quickly, the loneliness felt coming home alone after a long night's work.
Curling up on the couch with her latest crime novel and her tea, she thanked the omnipotent being who she only recently came to believe in. Thanked him for the events that brought her here, to this exact point in her life. And while things could always be better, she's thankful to be alive and to still have a job that she loves and is good at.
And as her eyelids grow as heavy as the book which begins to droop down to her chest, the nightmare comes again. The one in which she wasn't pulled over for driving under the influence, but she instead plows through a stop sign. Watching as a little girl's doll flies up over the windshield as if in slow motion. A mother's screams echoing, competing with the screeching of tires as her foot slams down on the brakes, much too late.
The book falls to the floor as the whole nightmare plays out. The soft click of the door unlocking is too quiet to wake her from her terror. He strides sure and confident across her living room as he realizes she's struggling yet again with the images of things that could have been.
Dropping to his knees Grissom's arms gently surround her. Lifting her up to him, he consoles her, whispering that it's only a dream. Rocking her gently he feels the warmth of her tears on his neck, soaking into his shirt.
The steady rhythm of his breath caressing the side of her face, calms her, stems the flow from her eyes and slows her rapidly pounding heart. Deeply taking in his scent she begins to drift again, soothed completely by his presence.
Cradling her there in the stillness of the suburban Las Vegas morning, he thinks only of comforting her. Slightly worried that the nightmares still come, but mostly just relieved at how things have turned out; overjoyed at the opportunity to finally have her in his arms.
While he'll continue to be the supervisor at work, asking all the right questions, making all the decisions; here at home with her, he has his new role to fill. Thinking only of her and them as a couple with no regard for how things will affect work.
Two weeks ago the prospect scared him, paralyzed him. But kneeling here now with Sara in his arms, he knows it can be done, and wondered how he ever doubted it. Love may conquer all, but fear is a wonderful motivator.
End
Battus philenor