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SaraSara was fairly sure no one noticed her in the darkness, and she was happy to leave it that way. To return to the others would be to endure the looks of sympathy and regret, or grief and unspoken accusation, and she couldn't handle that. After throwing up what had been the remainder of her dinner, she found herself safely cocooned at the base of a tree, and she was unwilling to move from its security.
She had lost sight of Warrick and Catherine when another police vehicle pulled up, and Grissom had disappeared into the crowd some time ago, to fulfil his role as supervisor, no doubt. No one had come looking for her, so she had to assume they weren't allowed to leave yet. Her insides were screaming to get as much distance as possible between her and the glassy, lifeless eyes of the man who had been her friend, and who had died in front of her eyes.
She stared hollowly at the earth, willing it to swallow her in its mossy depths, and to return Nicky in her place.
"Sara?"
She took a long time to glance up, and when she did, she realised Grissom stood above her. In the dim artificial lights she could see his face was pale, and his blue eyes weary and void of all warmth. She looked away again.
He crouched down in front of her, leaves crunching under his feet. She felt warmth on her arm, and realised he was touching her. "Sara. Do you want to go home now?"
She frowned, forcing herself not to look at him. She didn't want to see his eyes. "I didn't drive here. We were driven by... My car's back at the lab".
"It's okay. I'll drive you".
Sara blinked, unable to avoid his gaze any longer. The depth of his sadness scared her, and her eyes moistened.
His hand slid into hers, and he gave her a gentle tug. "Come on".
She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, and followed Grissom passively, purposefully ducking her head as they passed through the waning crowds of officers and Ecklie's dayshift team.
They all blame you. This is your fault.
It occurred to her that Grissom was holding her hand in public, but it seemed the farthest thing from his mind. The gesture held none of the significance she used to hope it would, and she couldn't bring herself to care.
He opened the car door for her, obviously uncertain how to react to her silence. Catherine, hysterical and crying, was certainly not within his abilities to deal with- maybe that was why he had agreed to take her. At least if she bottled it all inside she wouldn't have to face his disapproval at how she was dealing with it.
She was silent on the drive, and he didn't encourage her to talk. When he pulled up in front of her house, he cut the engine, turning to glance at her uncertainly. Sara stared straight ahead, swallowing harshly, forcing her words to come out steadily and emotionlessly. "Thanks for the ride, Grissom".
"Sara..."
Involuntarily, she was drawn to look at him, coming out of her haze long enough to glimpse how this was effecting him. Nick had been special to him. Everyone knew Warrick was his favourite CSI, but that didn't diminish Nick's importance. He had been a protégée, an apprentice to teach and be proud of.
"Do you want me to stay for a while?"
She glanced at him, wanting to curl up and cry. Didn't he understand she couldn't keep up this façade in front of him much longer? She had almost lost it at the crime scene, and now she was forced to keep it up in the privacy of her own home.
But something in his eyes made her hesitate to reject the offer. She knew what Grissom was like. For him to reach out on his own like this was a huge sacrifice on his part. It wasn't his nature to share and console. They were too similar in that respect.
She lowered her head, hair curtaining around her face. "Okay", she whispered softly.
He locked his car, trailing behind her to the door. Sara strode inside, uncomfortably aware of his closeness behind her, and headed directly for the kitchen alcove. "Do you want some coffee?" she asked falteringly. "I'll make some coffee". She opened cupboards, scrambling around for mugs.
"Sara", Grissom said gently.
She continued her perusal. It was easier than acknowledging his presence. When she didn't react he moved around the counter, unconsciously sliding his hands over her wrists to stop her movements.
"Sara", he said again. "I don't want any coffee".
Sara blinked up at him, then looked down at their hands, where he still held them. He slowly released her, clearing his throat. "Maybe you should get some rest".
Tears sparked in her eyes, and she looked away. "I can't rest. I've been doing enough of that today".
Like watching, waiting, as Nick moved towards him, as Nick..."Sara..."
She wished he would stop repeating her name like that. Like a mantra to some crazy person. She took a step back, running her hands through her hair. "I saw him, you know", she said bluntly.
When Grissom didn't blink, she continued, dissatisfied with his lack of reaction. "Warrick shouted, but I'd already seen him. I saw him and I didn't do anything. Then he knocked me down, and I couldn't move. I saw what he was going to do to Nick, what he did... I saw him die and... I didn't stop it."
A broken sob tore from her throat, and she backed against the cupboards, sliding weakly to the floor until her knees met with her chin. She couldn't breathe. The sobs broke free from her throat, choking her with their intensity. Her shoulders heaved, and the pain was just. So. Much.
She felt warm flesh on her knees, and Grissom's soothing voice, far away to her ears. She didn't think about it, and leant into him, burying her face against his chest.
"Honey, this wasn't your fault."
She focused on his gentle, healing strokes on her back until she could breathe again, and she leant away from him, her head resting against the kitchen cupboards.
"That doesn't change the fact that Nick's dead".
He looked away, instinctively rubbing his thumb against her knee. "No, it doesn't. But he wouldn't want this."
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, staying silent.
Grissom sighed. "Come on. You need some sleep".
"I can't", she said helplessly. She hated feeling so exposed to him, but she would rather do anything but that. "I'll dream about it. I can't... I can't".
Grissom watched her, looking as though he was fighting an inner battle. She wondered what he could possibly be thinking. He was acting completely uncharacteristically. Things hadn't been the same between them for a while, and for a moment there it had seemed like he'd been entirely willing to bridge all those gaps, and allow himself to show some aspect of emotion. She was expecting him to retract back into himself any minute now.
"I'll stay with you".
She blinked at him, a little disbelievingly.
"You'd... do that?"
He rose slowly to his feet, offering her a hand. "Come on".
Sara straightened haltingly, still staring at him doubtfully. Her bedroom was the second door down the hall, and she awkwardly removed her shoes, watching him as he did the same. She crawled onto the bed, rolling on her side. Grissom gently lay down beside her. He hesitated, and then cocooned her against him, resting his arm on her waist.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on the contact she would once have savoured, instead of the canopy of nightmarish images flashing before her eyes.
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