A/N: Well...here it is! The second half to my latest foray into the CSI universe. I hope it lives up to expectations! As usual, I have to give a big thanks to my wonderful beta, Grissomgal71! She manages to catch things that I miss...and make me wonder how I missed them! And also for putting up with my 'shippiness'. Thanks a ton, Jamie! I think we can upgrade your share of a certain CSI to 40 percent now. What do you think?
And thanks to all who have left a review! It's so great to open my inbox and see those in there!
Sara gripped the handle of the car door as Nick pulled into the hospital parking lot, practically on the two outside wheels. He ignored the speed limit sign, flying down the nearest row. He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel.
"Dammit!" he shouted, staring at the full rows of cars. Sara turned to him, seeing his jaw tensed and an odd mixture of emotions in his eyes. She glanced down, fixing her gaze on the stick-shift. A myriad of her own emotions and memories were going through her head. She wanted to comfort Nick, to let him know that everything was going to be fine, but she kept hearing that awful scream in her head along with the crunching of metal. She couldn't even convince herself that everything was going to be okay.
She closed her eyes, willing the memories out of her head. But they wouldn't leave. She kept seeing the truck slam into the SUV over and over, like a broken memory record.
"Ha!" she heard Nick exclaim, and a moment later was thrown against the door as he turned sharply into the lone empty space. He quickly parked and shut the car down, leaping out of his seat. Sara followed, and together, they made their way into the emergency room.
Inside, Sara approached a woman sitting behind a desk. "I'm looking for a man just brought in from a car accident. Gil Grissom?"
The woman glanced down at some papers. "E16. Second to last door."
"Thank you," Sara said, then bolted down the hall, Nick close behind.
"Sir, I'm afraid you can't go with her. One visitor per patient, please."
Nick stopped, and looked up at Sara. Their eyes met for a moment, then he nodded, turning to sit in a waiting room. He sank into a chair, fidgeting nervously with his hands. Sara watched him for a moment, then continued on her way.
The emergency room was actually a circular room, with two beds per smaller room within. These were separated by a curtain, with glass doors in the front. Sara glanced at each door as she went by, finally finding E16. She stepped through the doors and froze, seeing nurses standing around a bed. One of the nurses looked up when Sara entered.
Sara couldn't take her eyes off the pair of shoes. His shoes, her mind told her.
"Are you with him?"
Sara nodded.
"Gil Grissom? That's his name, right?"
"Yeah," Sara managed to say.
The nurse nodded. "We think he may have suffered a concussion. He's not quite sure where he is or what happened, but he is awake. He's on a backboard and a neck brace until we can do x-rays to make sure nothing's broken." Sara nodded again. The nurse managed a smile. "Come on. Maybe a friendly face will help."
The nurse led her to Grissom's side, where Sara had to stop for a moment. She'd been told what to expect, but wasn't really prepared. Grissom's head was surrounded by foam rolls on either side to immobilize it somewhat, with straps on his forehead and chin. A heart monitor was clipped to his finger, and the steady beat was shown on a screen hanging on the wall. There were straps on his chest, stomach, and legs to keep him from moving off the backboard. His eyes were open, but staring blankly at the sterile ceiling.
The nurse leaned over so she was right in Grissom's eyesight. He slowly focused on her. "Gil? Gil, do you know where you are?" she asked.
Sara watched Grissom's eyes close for a moment as he racked his memory. Finally he shook his head.
"You're at the Desert Palm hospital. Do you remember what happened?"
Once again, Grissom searched for an answer but came up with nothing.
"You were in a car accident. The ambulance brought you here." The woman motioned for Sara to step closer. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Sara. I'm his...friend."
The woman nodded. "Gil? Sara's here."
At the nurse's indication, Sara stepped forward so Grissom could see her. At first his eyes were empty, but slowly recognition sank into them. Sara smiled for his sake and reached over to take his hand. "You're gonna be okay, you hear me?"
Grissom stared at her a moment more, then turned to look back at the ceiling, closing his eyes. A moment later, a man walked in, pulling Grissom's chart from the cubby. He looked over it, then stepped up next to Grissom's bed, getting in his eyesight.
"Mr. Grissom?" he said. Grissom's eyes slowly fluttered open and focused on the doctor. "I'm Dr. Saban. Do you know where you are?"
Grissom's eyes shifted back and forth as he tried to think. "No."
"You're in the hospital. Desert Palm. You were in a car accident. We think you bumped your head pretty hard."
"Accident?" Grissom repeated.
"Yes, a car accident. Now, I'm going to get this lady right here to draw some blood, okay? Then we're going to take you to get some x-rays done." The doctor patted Grissom's arm, then stepped out of the room, all but ignoring Sara.
An older nurse pulled a stool up next to his bed. "Just a little stick, Gil. This might hurt a bit." As she spoke, she pulled the cap off a needle and swabbed Grissom's arm. Grissom's only reaction to the stick was to stiffen up and groan. The nurse wrapped gauze around the puncture when she finished and nodded to a man standing in the doorway.
"Gil?" she said again. Grissom's eyes opened. "Do you know where you are?"
A long pause. "Hospital?"
The nurse smiled. "Right. Which one?"
Another long pause. Then Grissom shook his head.
"You're at Desert Palm."
"What happened?" Grissom asked, his voice now hoarse.
"You were in a car accident." She motioned for the young man to step forward.
"Mr. Grissom? I'm Neal. We're going to take you to get some tests done, okay?" They didn't get a reply, but weren't really expecting one. They undid the brakes on the bed, and the young man began to wheel it out of the room. As they passed by, Sara gave Grissom's hand another squeeze. A moment later, they were out of sight, and Sara was left alone.
She sank down into the nearest stool, feeling as if her feet were made of lead. A feeling of utter hopelessness consumed her, and all she could do was cry.
"Mr. Grissom hit his head against the window, shattering it. Luckily, he suffered no lacerations. He's just got a moderate concussion," Dr. Saban told them. "I think it would also be best if he has someone to stay with him. Just to keep an eye on him." He pulled a few pieces of paper out of his shirt pocket. "These are his prescriptions. Needless to say, he's going to be hurting in the morning. He'll also need to see his usual physician in a few days for a check-up."
Nick stared at the papers for a moment after taking them. "There was someone else in the SUV with him. A young woman: Elaine Klemmings. What about her?"
The doctor's face became dark. "She never made it to the hospital. She died en route."
For the longest time, neither Nick or Sara could say anything. It was as if a heavy weight had just been placed on their shoulders with the death of another member of their crazy little family.
"Just like Holly..." Nick said to himself. Both of their minds were filled with images of both Holly Gribbs and Elaine Klemmings, both killed needlessly on their first day.
Nick was the first to recover.
"What happened to her?"
"The impact from the first car bent the frame of the vehicle as well as the door. Essentially, she was pinned. We believe that it was this first impact that broke her spine. The impact from the second, smaller car, only succeeded in shoving the dashboard forward, pinning her legs. Veins were cut and she bled out a good bit. An autopsy will be performed to find the exact cause of death."
Nick nodded, wondering why he'd had to ask.
"Well," the doctor said, clearing his throat, "Mr. Grissom should be on his way out. We'll have an attendant wheel him out to your car for you. He should be able to walk, though he may be shaky. Things will still be a little fuzzy for him, but for the most part he knows what happened."
"Does he know about the girl?" Sara asked.
The doctor shook his head. "No one's told him."
"Geez..." Nick said, running a hand over his face.
"I suggest you wait until tomorrow to tell him, or wait until he asks. Telling him too soon may have some psychological setbacks."
Nick and Sara nodded, then turned when a door behind them opened. They recognized the man pushing the wheelchair as Neal. Then they looked down at Grissom. He was sitting very still in the chair, his eyes fixed on the floor, not really seeing anything.
Nick smiled, more for Grissom's benefit than anything. "Hey, Gris."
Grissom looked up, slowly focusing on the man in front of him. "Nick," he said softly. He turned his eyes to Sara, and she thought she saw a small smile cross his lips.
Nick looked from Gris to Sara, then stepped forward after a moment. "You ready to go home, Gris?"
Grissom's eyes moved from Sara to the Texan. He nodded. "Yeah."
Nick glanced in the rearview mirror, a small smile on his face. They'd put Grissom in the back, giving the man enough room to stretch out or lie any way that was comfortable. Grissom, true to his nature, had buckled himself in and sat properly in his seat. But he had fallen asleep during the ride, his head leaning against the window. The position looked uncomfortable, but Grissom was sleeping peacefully.
Nick, still smiling, turned to look at the woman occupying the passenger's seat. Sara had been almost completely silent throughout the ride, her eyes also fixed on the rearview mirror. She caught Nick's gaze, smiled, then looked away.
Nick smirked. "He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping, you know? I mean, he's not yelling at anyone..."
Sara shook her head, though a small smile crossed her own face.
Nick sighed, reaching his right hand down to give hers a squeeze before returning it to the steering wheel. "Don't worry, Sara. Everything's going to be okay."
They reached Grissom's townhouse a few minutes later, and Nick pulled up into a parking spot as close as he could get. He shut off the SUV, then hopped out and went to the back to grab the bags they had tossed back there.
Sara, on the other hand, opened up the passenger door in the back, opposite of where Grissom still slept. She leaned on the seat somewhat, reaching across to shake Grissom's arm.
"Gris. Gris, wake up."
He stirred and let out a small moan before opening his eyes. He blinked, looking lost for a moment. Then he turned and fixed his eyes on Sara, still looking rather confused. "Sara?" he asked.
"Yeah, Gris. C'mon. Let's get you upstairs so you can get some sleep."
He gave her a small grin. "That'd be great."
They managed to get Grissom up to his house without much difficulty. Nick escorted the still-woozy Grissom into his bedroom while Sara emptied the bags. Most of them contained Grissom's prescriptions, which totaled three. Others contained snack stuffs. Nick and Sara had decided one of them should stay with Grissom, instead of calling up one of the other CSI's. After a short debate, it was decided that Sara would stay.
Nick returned a few minutes later, shutting Grissom's door behind him. He jerked a thumb in that direction. "He's sleeping. He managed to change out of his clothes and get under a blanket before zonking out."
Sara nodded, glancing around the living room. Not much had changed since she'd last been there years ago. With the exception of a few more books on the shelf and a few different knick knacks, most of it was exactly the same.
Nick was also looking around. "Definitely a bachelor pad. You sure you want to stay? I mean, I've got no problem staying with him."
Sara shook her head. "I'm fine, Nick. We'll be fine."
Sara yawned and stretched, then let her head fall back onto the soft pillow. She wanted to go back to sleep, but something felt off. This didn't feel like her bed. Lifting her head again, she studied the plain walls of the room. She sat up quickly, realizing that she wasn't even in her own home.
All at once, the memories of the day before came flooding back to her. The case, the crash, Grissom, and Elaine. She closed her eyes as the crash replayed in her mind, complete with crunching metal and the terrified scream.
The muted sounds of a television interrupted her thoughts and her eyes shot open. Pulling on a pair of socks to protect her feet from the cold floor, she made her way towards the sound. She found herself at the door to Grissom's bedroom.
The door was open a bit, but she knocked first. "Grissom?" she called.
"Yeah," came the groggy reply. She slowly pushed the door open, seeing him sitting up on his bed. He had the blankets gathered at his waist, and his pillows were set up behind his back for support. He seemed to be watching the television, yet he also seemed to be half-asleep. He turned his half-closed eyes towards her. "Hey," he said.
She stepped further into the room, taking a moment to study him. A dark bruise had appeared on his face, spreading out from his left temple, the only sign of the horrible accident that she could see. She grimaced, knowing that it was where his head had hit the glass. She closed her eyes and fought off an unbidden image. Then she looked back at him again. "Hey, Gris. How're you feeling?"
"I've been better," he admitted, shifting so that she could sit on the edge of the bed, which she did. "My head is killing me."
"Did you take your medicine?" she asked, glancing at the prescription bottles on the nightstand. She stole another glance at his face, seeing that it had also swollen up a bit. It had seemed worse yesterday. No doubt the medicine was helping.
"Yeah, a few minutes ago," he said, closing his eyes for a long moment. "It'll take a while to kick in."
Sara nodded, turning to the television. Trying to take his mind away from the pain, she asked, "What are you watching?"
Grissom frowned, then forced his tired eyes open wider than before. He studied the screen for a moment. "I don't even know. Looks like Court TV."
Sara gave him a small smile. "No fun watching the end of the case if you don't know what was going on."
"True," Grissom replied, adjusting the blankets around him. As he moved, Sara idly looked him over, seeing something that alarmed her.
Her hand shot out, grasping Grissom's left wrist, while her other hand gently pushed the sleeve of his t-shirt up, revealing a large bruise that covered most of his upper arm. He cringed slightly, but tried to hide it from her.
"Oh my God, Grissom," she said, slightly shocked. "Is this from the accident?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
Grissom looked down at it, one side of his mouth lifting in a half-grimace. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "From when I got thrown against the door."
"Did your doctor see it?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. He said it would go away, just like any other bruise, Sara."
Sara smirked, glad that he was feeling good enough to take his matter-of-fact voice with her. As gently as she could, she pulled his sleeve back down, covering the wound. Then she laid her hands on his arm.
"Are you hungry, Gris? It must have been a while since you've eaten."
"A little," he admitted. "Let's go see what I have," he said, moving to get out of the bed.
Sara stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Whoa. No. You stay, Grissom." She smiled. "I can't have you passing out on me. Tell you what: I'll check and see what kind of food you have, then I'll let you know and you can tell me what you want. Okay?"
He looked a little put-out at not being involved in his own food preparation, but nodded anyway.
She patted his shoulder gently, then stood up and made her way to the kitchen. The refrigerator, she decided after a moment of searching, was only a little surprising. She pushed past a jar of chocolate-covered grasshoppers and a Petri dish to grab a carton of milk, only to discover that it had recently expired. She made a face, then found his garbage can. Her cleaning habits came back into play, and she found herself pulling out everything in the fridge, throwing away all that was expired, rotten, or growing things on it.
The state of his kitchen actually impressed her. Many of the expired items had recently gone past their date, and very few things seemed near mutation. This told her that Grissom actually kept up with it somewhat. She'd figured that he rarely ate at home, as seldom as he was there.
The cupboards and freezer contents also surprised her, yet made perfect sense. Frozen foods and boxed items would hold a lot longer, allowing him to use them whenever he was home. She rummaged through everything, then went back to Grissom's room.
He was still in the same position as before, though now his eyes were closed. She tentatively stepped forward, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.
"Grissom?" she called softly.
He stirred and opened his eyes. He saw her, then attempted to sit up straight. "Yeah?"
She grinned. "How hungry are you? Because I can make a meal, or just heat up a TV dinner."
He blinked slowly. "A TV dinner would be fine. I'm not really that hungry." He cleared his throat. "If you're hungry, you can help yourself. I'm not really sure what would be good for you, though."
She nodded, then went back out to the kitchen to get his food. She found a simple roast beef meal for him, then discovered a seafood gumbo for her. She had never tried gumbo before, but to her it looked like seafood soup with rice. She adjusted the oven, then put the meals in, checking them every few minutes.
When the food was done, she dug through a shelf, finding a wooden breakfast tray for the hot pans. She put the food on it, then carried it into Grissom's room.
He was a little more alert this time when she entered, and actually seemed to fully understand her presence.
She set the tray down on his lap, handing him a fork before sitting on a chair to eat her own food. For a while, neither one of them spoke. Finally, Sara broke the silence. "This gumbo stuff is good, Gris. I've never tried it before."
He smiled. "Yeah. It's a Louisiana thing. Jamie Cohen from days got me started on it, and she got it from Sears." He fell quiet for a moment, the smile wilting from his face. He looked at the floor, then up at Sara.
She caught his eyes, and nearly choked on her food. There was such a profound expression of pain in them that it shocked her.
"Sara..." he began softly. "What happened yesterday to...to Elaine?"
Sara felt her throat constrict and her heart drop. She knew that he needed to know, and would have found out sooner or later, but she didn't want to be the one to add extra weight to his already over-burdened soul.
Her silence and torn expression seemed to speak for her. His eyes shifted to the ground, then clenched shut. "She didn't make it, did she?"
Sara closed her own eyes for a moment. "No, Gris. She didn't make it. She died on the way to the hospital."
He nodded, his eyes still closed. His hand clenched the fork tightly. Then, without warning, he flung the fork, cardboard plate and tray across the room, slamming them against the wall. He was out of the bed, standing with his head in his hands, in an instant.
Sara was on her feet and at his side immediately, trying to calm him. He pushed her away.
"Go!" he shouted, his voice cracking a bit. "Just go!"
"Grissom..." she began, but he waved her off.
"Get out, Sara!" he cried, leaning against a wall for support.
Her feelings hurt, Sara held up her hands and quickly retreated, shutting the door behind her. She sat stiffly on his small couch, listening to the muffled sounds from within his room. After a moment, the slamming subsided, followed by what sounded like retching.
Before she could quite think about it, she was up and walking back towards his door. She pushed it open and, not seeing Grissom anywhere, went to a door that led to a small bathroom. She knocked once, then pushed open the door when there was no reply.
Grissom was knelt over his toilet, retching though nothing came out. He coughed and fell backward against the side of the bathtub, his face buried in his hands. He wasn't crying, but was suffering from the emotional aspect of everything.
Sara went to his side, just wanting to be there for him. She put an arm around his shoulder, and was surprised when he melted into her, leaning on her for support. She threw her other arm around him, gently stroking his hair.
"Oh God..." He moaned quietly. "It's just like Holly...It's all my fault."
She held him tighter, feeling his body shiver. "No, Grissom. It's not. It was an accident. There was nothing you could have done."
"I should have checked on her...made sure she was all right."
Sara thought about what the doctor had said. About how Grissom was only conscious long enough to dial half of a phone number before passing out.
"Grissom," she said sternly. "You couldn't have done anything. She was pinned in the car. There was nothing you could have done," she repeated, holding him closer as his shivering continued.
Sara peeked into Grissom's room. She could see his still form underneath the blankets of his bed, slightly rising and falling as he breathed. He had obviously kicked and rolled about in his sleep, as his blankets were now tangled around his body awkwardly.
Sara let a small smile cross her lips, then slowly crept inside. She didn't want to wake him, but didn't want him to get cold in the cool townhouse either. She stepped up to the side of his bed, gently pulling the blanket out from under his legs. He groaned in his sleep and moved a little. Sara froze, but he didn't wake, he just slept on.
She managed to get him situated somewhat, then hunkered down by the bed, studying his sleeping features. His face would tic every one in a while, so she knew his dreams were not peaceful. She frowned, then reached up and ran a hand down the side of his face, being careful of the bruise that still marred his face. It still hurt him. During his waking hours she would catch glimpses of him frowning and bringing a hand up to it. She wanted to help him, but knew there was nothing she could do. It was up to Grissom's own body to heal that wound.
He groaned again as he slept, his face contorting with pain and fear. He began breathing quickly and shallow, which caused Sara to grow concerned. She watched as he curled up into a ball at first, then relaxed himself, crying out softly.
She leaned over the bed, putting a hand gently on his head. She didn't want to wake him, just give him some kind of indication that he wasn't alone.
"Grissom..." she said softly. "Shhh....It's okay. I'm here, Gris." She ran her fingers through his hair, hoping that it would help to calm him.
Eventually, his breathing slowed to normal. He sighed once more, then buried his face in his pillow, as if trying to hide from the demons that haunted him.
Sara stayed by his bed for the rest of the night. She wanted to be there for him when he needed her.
Nearly a week went by with little incident. After the second day, Grissom sent Sara home, joking that he didn't need a babysitter. She grudgingly went, reminding him to call if he needed anything at all. She returned to work, in time to hear Lee Gibson's confession to both the Scott Allen murder and the car accident.
He claimed that he'd backed into the kid at a local computer store. The kid was upset, and had wanted to get the police involved. Gibson panicked; one more accident and he'd either lose his license or spend time in jail. He'd drug Allen into an alley, shot him with a gun kept in the glove compartment of his car, then stabbed him. When asked where he'd gotten the knife, Gibson clammed up. He just said something about being afraid. A tox screen, however, showed that he was under the influence of much more than adrenaline.
Sara watched this from the observation room, doubting that she'd be able to face Gibson without losing control. Nick had left early as well, after snapping at the perp when he shrugged off the accident. Brass was also seething, but was able to keep it under wraps somewhat. His voice cracked, however, when he mentioned the injured CSI and the dead CSI.
Sara entered the break room later, her body craving coffee. She found Nick already at the table, staring blankly into his cup.
"Hey," she said, sliding down next to him.
He looked up at her. "Hey. How's Gris?"
She smirked, wondering how many people knew that she was still going to Grissom's home to check up on him. "He's better. I took him to his physician on Monday. Everything's fine. He still gets headaches, but they're getting less frequent."
Nick nodded. "That's good."
"Yeah. He'll be back at the lab on Friday. Being stuck at home is really bugging him."
"I'll bet. For a guy like Gris? Whew...must be like twisting the knife." He fell silent for a moment, turning his coffee mug around and around. "You know, the funeral's tomorrow."
Sara nodded. "I know. Grissom knows." She glanced at Nick's coffee. "He wants to be there. He still feels responsible. Like he should have been able to do something."
Nick made a face. "There's nothing at all he could have done. I mean, he's lucky to be alive himself."
"He feels like their places should have been switched," Catherine said from the door. She stepped further inside, sitting in a chair opposite Sara.
"Grissom wishes he had died?" Nick asked.
Sara shook her head. "Grissom didn't want to die. But he didn't want anyone else to die either."
Catherine nodded. "So...Gil wants to be there tomorrow? Greg will be there. He knew her the best. Atwater's going to be there too."
"He didn't even know her. He's just doing it for publicity," Sara scoffed.
Catherine shrugged. "He lost one of his 'dream team'. Of course he wants the public to see him mourn the loss."
Nick shook his head. "He's no better than Mobley."
"Politicians, Nicky. They have their own agendas." Catherine turned to Sara. "Elaine's parents will be there tomorrow. From what I've heard, they don't know the whole story. So...try to catch them before they get to Gil and say something to upset him even more." With that, Catherine gave them both a smile and set off to deal with Hodges.
Grissom found himself studying Sara's face as she worked on his tie. Normally, he would have been able to do everything himself, but an exceptional headache and shaky hands made it near impossible. After fumbling with it for a few moments, he'd finally given up and asked Sara for help.
He was beginning to question that decision when he discovered that all he could focus on was her face. He was memorizing every detail of it, though he already knew most of it. He liked to tell himself that he didn't know why he was doing it, but a small voice in the back of his mind begged to differ. The truth was, he wanted to be able to recall the smallest detail of her when she left him. He had no doubt that once he was well and back at work, she would all but disappear again. Whether from his doing or her own, it was bound to happen. He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt Sara pat his chest, right by the knot on his tie. He looked at her.
"There you go," she said, smiling at him.
He looked down at his tie, running his fingers over the smooth silk before looking back up at her. It was then that he discovered how close they really were; she was only a few inches from his face.
"Thank you," he said, his eyes meeting hers.
"You're welcome, Grissom," she replied, a small smile crossing her lips.
"I meant for everything. For being there for me, taking care of-" Grissom was cut off when Sara put a finger against his lips.
"I know, Gris. And you're very welcome. Very welcome," she repeated softly, removing her finger.
For a long time, neither one moved. Then, to both of their surprise, Grissom moved forward, tentatively catching Sara's lips in a kiss. It was very hesitant at first, but Sara soon found herself returning it. Grissom's beard tickled her skin, adding to the sensations.
Finally they pulled apart. They just stood there for a moment, with Grissom wondering if he had made the biggest mistake of his life. But Sara smiled, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Grissom wrapped his arms around her, running one hand through her hair.
"I'm not too late, am I?" he asked quietly, needing to know the answer to the questions badgering his mind. He knew that he had messed up for too long, only managing to push her away. But the accident, the death of another employee, and being faced with his own mortality had opened his eyes. He knew now that stalling could only end badly, that one day he would truly be too late. He just prayed that his time hadn't already passed.
Sara put a hand on the back of his head and put her check against his. "No, Grissom. You're not too late." She turned and kissed his cheek. "Never too late," she whispered.
The funeral was held on a bright, sunny day, ironically much like the one Elaine had died on. The sunlight made the cemetery almost seem cheerful, if not for the somber group dressed in black.
There was an unspoken segregation among the mourners. Family and friends stood to one side of the coffin, while co-workers of one day stood on the other. Grissom and Sara were in the front of their group.
Everyone had starting out standing, save for the Klemmings family. But Sara soon noticed that Grissom seemed more than a little unsteady on his feet, and kept closing his eyes to take a deep breath. Finally, she slipped out of the crowd and came back with a chair. At first he protested, but soon gave in after blackness began to creep into the edges of his vision.
Sara had kept a firm hold on his hand earlier, but now kept a comforting hand on his shoulder. Nick and Greg stood to either side of them, their faces stoic and calm. While they appeared resolute on the outside, Sara caught glimpses of Greg's hands shaking. He would sigh, shake them, then shove them into his pockets.
The priest recited scripture in a loud, booming voice, telling everyone of God's plan. Elaine's parents sat together, her mother sobbing into her husband's shoulder. Sara kept seeing Mr. Klemmings shooting glares in Grissom's direction. Grissom saw them too, and while he knew that Elaine's death wasn't his fault, he couldn't bring himself to meet the grieving father's eyes. He would divert his own eyes to either the ground or the coffin when Mr. Klemmings began to look in his direction.
Grissom soon lost himself in his thoughts, only pulled out when the coffin was lowered into the ground. He felt Sara squeeze his shoulder, and reached a hand up to grasp hers. He closed his eyes as the coffin disappeared from view, willing the nightmare to end.
As the mourners began to disperse, Sara caught a glimpse of Sheriff Atwater. He stared at the fresh hole for a moment, gave a slight nod of his head, then turned away. He only got as far as the gate before he was hounded by reporters, all shoving a microphone in his face.
"Sheriff Atwater," one woman said, pushing ahead of the rest. "What is it like to lose a member of your crime lab on her very first day?"
Atwater sighed. "It's hard. It's always hard. Whether someone has been there a day, a year, or a decade, it's still hard." When he said this, he glanced at Grissom and Sara, who were slowly making their way to Sara's SUV. He gave them a small nod.
"And what of the CSI who was injured in the accident?"
"Yeah. Gil Grissom, was it?" another reported interjected.
"Mr. Grissom suffered minor injuries and is well on his way to recovery. We hope to see him back at work in a few days."
The reporters kept asking Atwater questions regarding the perpetrator and the lab's plans. Grissom and Sara were grateful for this, as it gave them more of a chance to get out without being bothered. They made it out of the gate together, and sighed a breath of relief.
Sara wrapped her arm around Grissom's, leaning her head on his arm. He smiled, glad that something felt right.
Suddenly, a lone reporter found them, his cameraman close behind him. Grissom was shocked at first when the microphone was shoved into his face, but managed to mask it. Sara made to separate from him, but he put an arm around her, keeping her close.
"Mr. Grissom," the reporter said in a dramatic voice. "After the death of another CSI, what are you going to do now?"
Grissom looked down at Sara and smiled. "I'm going to rebuild. Make sure things are in order," he said simply. "What happened was a tragic accident, and as much as it hurt every one, there is nothing we can do to change it. All we can do is look to the future and hope that it's brighter than the past."
Grissom yawned loudly where he sat on the couch, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Sara smiled and looked up at him from where she was snuggled against him.
"Sleepy?" she asked.
He shrugged. "A little bit. But I'm sick of sleeping all of the time."
"How long did the doctor say that was going to happen?"
Another shrug. "He said I'd feel odd for at least a week. But he also said to watch for things like forgetfulness and feeling detached from everything."
She grinned even wider. "So...how's your memory?"
He smirked and leaned down to kiss her. "I remember that."
She sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to him. "So...what do we do now? With you and me?" She cringed as she said the words. She didn't want to seem pushy, but she also didn't want this to be a fling because he'd gotten hurt.
But it didn't seem to bother him. His arm tightened around her. "Look to the future. Hope that it's brighter than the past. And with you here, it's looking very bright."
END