A/N: OK, People, this is IT for New Ground. This is the un-checked, unrevised, undeniably sucky but completely FINAL chapter of this fic. Please just stick it out for the team, eh? Read On.
Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to GeekLoveFan, who totally rocks my world with her fic Facades. Go Read it now damn it!
Normally, Sara would have found the silence that had settled over them to be oppressive, but now, it just felt comfortable and..safe. And she reallyneeded a little 'safe' right now. Her gaze darted to her left, taking in Grissom's profile, before traveling back to the white tiles of the waiting room floor.
Ok, so today had been...a little crazy. Or completely un-freakin-believable, to be more accurate. Sara Sidle, in twelve hours, had been blown up, rescued, put through the tests and trials of triage, mobbed by relieved friends, and kissed senseless by Gil Grissom before he broke down in her arms. un-freakin-believable. She sighed.
"I hate how white hospitals are," Nick muttered, staring at the ground.
Sara knew the feeling. "Yeah, but if hospitals were blue, Nick, you'd hate that, too. It's the setting, not the decor." Nick just kept looking at the floor.
"Hey, I hate to break up the whole hospital philosophy group we have going, but does anybody have any aspirin?" Brass asked, his sarcastic remark filled with an undertone of pain. He'd turned in his forms fifteen minutes ago, but his injured wrist still hadn't been looked at.
Before anyone could answer, Catherine stood up, straightening her blouse. "Where are you going, Cat?" Warrick asked, his eyebrows raised.
"I'm going to go kick some Las Vegas General Hospital ass. Believe it or not, broken bones need treated. Don't worry, Warrick, I won't be long." She gave him a rather edgy smile, and threw a nod at Brass before stalking towards a very unfortunate desk receptionist.
"I think whoever Catherine gets a hold of is going to be needing the aspirin more than you, Brass," Nick said, with a sage nod. Brass could only shift at his aching wrist gingerly.
Sara, never one to sit still, gave a swift tug on her wheelchair, lifting herself out of the couch and swinging gently down into the chair before anyone could protest. "I'm going to go get myself a soda. Anybody have change?"
Four men in the room gave an immediate outcry of protest, and she could feel Grissom hovering closer, half rising out of his seat. "Look, guys, I'm going to be in this chair for a while, ok? And believe me, making all my coffee trips for me is going to get really old, so just hand over the money and let me be." She could sense Grissom's worried gaze, seeing the others still wearing theirs, but could not meet his eyes. She had no idea where they stood with one another. "Trust me."
A brief jingle of coins and then Nick was dropping five quarters into her open palm. "There, Sar." He gave her a small smile.
"Thanks Nicky." Dropping the coins in her lap, she made quick work of maneuvering out into the hall and down near the entrance to the snack machines.
The task of putting quarters into a machine from such a low position was more daunting than one might think. In fact, Sara was so focused on the task, that she didn't notice Grissom until a warm, heavy hand rested gently on her shoulder, staying there through her surprised flinch. "Hey."
She smiled thinly, but didn't turn her head to him. "I said I could get it, Grissom."
For a moment, he didn't respond, but when he did, it was a soft answer right in her ear. "You look tired."
Sara had passed tired a long time ago. She was creeping up into the numbingly exhausted area now. "I'll live." She dropped the last quarter into the machine and punched the button for a Pepsi.
"Yeah." She could hear the relived sigh in that answer, and finally gathered the courage to turn her head to the left and meet his gaze.
His face was mere inches from her own, his blue eyes focused intensely back at her as he leaned over the back of the wheelchair. She fought down a nervous laugh. Wasn't he supposed to be retreating now? She'd nearly died, true, but he'd had sufficient to make sure she was ok. What was this?
"We..." he let out a quiet sigh. "We have a lot of talking to do, Sara."
"No, we don't," she blurted, wincing as soon as it left her mouth. "Uh, what I mean is that...Grissom...if you don't...I- you were scared. I get that. We...you don't have to explain and...I get it." The thunk of a bottle hitting metal resounded through the hall as the Pepsi fell from the depths of the machine.
His smirk threw her for a loop. "Obviously you don't, Sara, not that I blame you. I...this isn't...it isn't..." He frowned, looking as though he were searching for the right words. "That wasn't a plant, Sara."
"Well, no Grissom, not exactly." She couldn't help but let small grin leak out. As potentially heartbreaking as this whole scenario was, that had definitely not been a plant.
He sighed, but the smile stayed on his face. "What I mean is...this...this isn't going to go away." A shocked silence hung in the air. "I wont let it."
Sara couldn't seem to make her mouth close. "Oh." There were a million things she wanted to say, a trillion questions she needed to ask, but none of them seemed to want to come out. "Oh."
His smile widened, and his warm gaze held hers for a long moment, his palm coming up for an instant to brush across her cheek, his thumb gliding swiftly along her jaw. "We will talk, Sara, I promise." he broke her gaze and leaned over to grab her soda out of the bin, handing it to her. "But I think we should worry about...'this' later. Not a lot later...but this moment just...isn't the time to cover new ground." He cocked his head, watching her carefully.
New ground? Were they on new ground? Sara's mind was a whirlwind of doubts and old pain, but for the first time in a long time, a bright light of hope bubbled up through it all. "A-alright. Yeah." New ground. She thought she was smiling, maybe even grinning like an idiot, but the haze of exhaustion still surrounding her, even after her nap, made her unsure.
Without even waiting for her permission, Grissom began to wheel her back to the waiting room, the silence between them held without tension. As they reached the others, they saw that Catherine had returned, and was looking very pleased with herself as she spoke to Brass. Before they could ask, however, the double doors from the triage bay opened, and a Doctor stepped out, looking around the rather full room. "Dr. Grissom?"
"Yes?" they all held their breath as Grissom shook the doctor's hand.
"I'm Doctor Veterri. Mr. Sanders is awake now, and he's asking to see his family." At the looks of consternation he received from the people who were listening, Dr. Veterri smiled slightly. "Well, you know, even though he is out of the ICU, he's still only allowed to be seen by family members." He cleared his throat. "So, as his uncle, Dr. Grissom, I'm sure you're very anxious to see him. I'll take you to his room now, along with his brother and sister, Aunt, Brother in law, and...I think it was his Aunt's husband." He grinned at them as the chuckled. "Apparently Mr. Sanders has a mind for details even sufficiently settled on painkillers. Now, if you'll please follow me, his room is in another part of the hospital."
Letting out a collective sigh of relief, the six members of Greg's extended 'family' followed the doctor through the halls to see their friend.
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There was a song called Comfortably Numb, wasn't there? Greg squinted at the ceiling as though it would provide him with the answer. When no response was forthcoming, he blew out a sigh. Either way, he was no longer burning or floating or flying or sinking. He was just lying on a hospital bed and numb. Or maybe too drugged to know any different. He grinned at the thought.
His eyes snapped over to the door when he heard it open, his face falling in disappointment when it was just the doctor. He really needed to see- "Sara!" He winced at the fire that spread through his chest when he moved, but the grin stayed on his face.
"Take it easy, Greggo," she soothed with a smile of her own, relief rolling off of her in waves as she wheeled up to his bedside behind the doctor. "How you feeling?" Her hand made its way around his, squeezing very gently, her eyes a little misty. He gripped back tightly, ignoring the IV, shutting his eyes for a brief moment as the reality of it all truly sunk in for the first time.
"I'm ok now." He squeezed her hand again with another grin. "We're pretty good at this whole trauma thing, aren't we?"
"You mean getting into them, or dealing with them?" Sara asked with a brow arched in amusement.
"Both, probably."
She nodded. "Well, we're both out of the 'basement' for now, and that's sort of all that matters."
"Yeah." There was silence. 'We got blown up again.' He shook it off. "Which makes me wonder-"
"How we got down there in the first place?" She shrugged at his nod. "Who the hell knows, Greg. But we got out. We got out."
This time, his smile was more comfortable, and his muscles more relaxed. "Yeah." He glanced away as a he caught a movement from the doorway. "Nick! Hey man, how's it hanging," he called with a wide grin.
Nick sidled over beside Sara with a huge smile on his face. "Damn, Greggo, you had us all worried." The deep relief was clear in the Texan's dark eyes.
"Hah, you just want your spot back on Night shift," Greg returned easily, his smile holding a tinge of awkward reassurance.
Nick just rolled his eyes. "Whatever, dude." Then he sobered for a moment. "Seriously Greg, I'm glad you're OK, man."
"We all are, Greggo." Greg looked up to see Warrick moving forward with a slow smile, Catherine right behind him. Grissom stayed back a bit, leaning against the doorframe, with a keen gaze and Brass stood next to him, looking relieved but uncomfortable.
"Hey everybody! You here for the party?" Greg hadn't realized how much he had wanted to see them all, even if Sara had been at the top of that list.
"Shut up Greg!" Catherine came forward past Warrick with a huge smile and tears in her eyes, leaning down and planting a kiss on his forehead before he could do more than gape.
"Uh, hey Catherine. Not that I'm against a kiss from a babe, but that was sort of grandmotherly don't you think? I mean, my lips aren't hurt or anything..." She just laughed at his hopeful expression, sniffling a bit.
"Not today, Greg. Not today."
"So tomorrow then?"
"Man, give up already," Warrick chuckled, patting his arm gently in mock-consolation.
"No respect for the injured!" Greg huffed in amiable indignance, his gaze landing nervously on Grissom before darting away. The four noticed.
"Hey, Gentlemen, it's an open house, so don't be shy," Catherine said to the two in the doorway, with a pointed look at Grissom, who had the grace to look mildly sheepish.
Brass actually came forward first. "I'll be quick, Greggo, so I can go get plaster on this bum wrist," he said, with his old sarcastic sneer on Greg's name, but a friendly wink to go with it.
"Wh-what happened?" Greg asked the question cautiously, unused to being on good terms with the detective.
"Well, same thing that happened to you, if I was gonna take a guess. But you CSI's are always a step ahead of me, so what do you think?" Greg winced at the cynical tone, even though Brass's eyes were still friendly. Seeing it, Brass softened. "Hey Greg, I'm glad you're OK. Take a break and enjoy kicking back on company time, right? Doesn't happen often." He gave Greg an easy smile, which was returned hesitantly. "Well...I don't wanna miss the doctor after Catherine reduced some poor kid to tears to get me in, so..."
He gave Greg a nod, and leaned down to quickly pull Sara into a gruff bear hug, muttering "See you later, kiddo," before disappearing out the door.
"How are you, Greg?" Grissom was there suddenly, his hand resting absently on Sara's shoulder as he peered down piercingly on his newest CSI. At first Greg had thought Grissom didn't want to deal with him, but then he realized he'd simply been standing back to let the others have their turn first. It was the way Grissom did most things, really.
"Ok, Boss. Either I'm doing really well, or I'm on some really good drug," Greg smirked, but a sudden wave of fatigue swept over him, and a yawn slipped out through his grin. Grissom gave a small chuckle along with the others.
"A little of both, actually, Mr. Sanders," The doctor said, speaking for the first time from the corner where he stood. Greg nodded, his eyelids suddenly inexplicably heavy. "And I do hate to rush you all, but Mr. Sanders does need his rest."
"No, come on, they can st-a-a-ay," Greg insisted, not ready for them to leave, though his assurance was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn.
"Hey Greg, we'll be back, but the doc's right. You need to rest up and get better," Sara said with a warming smile, and he dazedly realized he was still gripping her hand.
"But I was wondering if...about the...the accident. Are, am I...?" He didn't know how to voice his fears.
"I told you Greg, I was the goddamn primary. I'm the one who fucked up, and if Ecklie wants someone's ass, I'm first in line, not you." Sara looked away, and Greg was taken aback to see the guilt on her face.
"Conrad has nothing to get either of you on." Grissom's voice startled Greg with its firmness. "If anyone is going to suffer any backlash from this, it will be the first officer on scene. Neither of you did anything wrong, and it wont have any impact on your records." Greg still felt unsure. "Greg, you have my word, OK?" Surprised, he just nodded, watching as his boss squeezed Sara's shoulder gently, his thumb moving along her collar bone absently. Whoa, that's new. A tired grin slipped onto his face as another yawn leaked out.
"I think that's our cue, folks," Catherine said with a smile, patting Greg's leg.
"But I...I don't..." How could he explain it? All of a sudden, he desperately did not want to be alone, some tired, drugged fear creeping up through his insides. He swallowed. "Can't–"
"Come on Greg, don't argue. We need you to heal up so we can get you back in the lab, catering to out every whim," Nick teased. "Hey bro, don't worry, we'll all swing by before shift tomorrow, OK?" He reached over Sara and squeezed his wrist, his smile not quite soothing Greg's nerves.
"Yeah, man, take it easy 'till we get back. Glad you're alright, Greg. Damn glad you're alright." Warrick nodded a goodbye and then followed Catherine and Nick out.
"You gonna be OK, Greggo?" Sara asked softly, and Greg blinked slowly, marveling at the spinning room.
"I...maybe?" Damn, he hadn't meant it to come out as a question.
The hand still within his squeezed, spreading comfort through his tired body. "You will be, Greg, and we'll be back before you know it. I'm going to go spend the next week bored to death in my apartment, so, don't hesitate to ring me."
"Try two weeks, Sara." Grissom was still there?
"Right." Greg tried to grin at her petulant voice, but couldn't manage it. He was slipping in to darkness, and he could almost taste the nightmares.
Somehow, Sara seemed to know. "Greg, I want you to listen, OK? We got out. Just remember that. When you're sleeping, nothing can touch you. We got out, and we're ok. You're OK, Greg. You got out." Her voice and that mantra in his mind, Greg felt a surprisingly silent, peaceful sleep slide over him as her hand slipped from his, ready to face whatever came tomorrow.
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"You going home?" Catherine turned at Warrick's voice. She was taking the Tahoe home while he and Nick took cabs. They turned to wave as Nick hailed a yellow car and got in.
"Yeah, you?"
He blinked, and smiled slightly, shrugging. "Yeah, I guess." An almost awkward silence fell over them.
"You want to..."
"Hey, I was wondering if..." They stopped, sharing embarrassed smiles.
"Not the right time, I guess," he supplied for both of them.
She nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I need to see Lindsey, and you look pretty dead on your feet." He nodded in return. "So...shift starts in four hours...see you then, I guess."
"Yeah, I'll see you, Cath. Say hey to Linds for me." She smiled.
"I will."
In a swift movement, she stepped forward, and he pulled her into a warm hug. Both stayed still for long moment, savoring the feeling and the closeness. Eventually, they reluctantly parted, their smiles no longer embarrassed, simply comfortable.
"So, see you next shift, Boss." He winked at her, and she grinned back, climbing into the Tahoe.
"You bet." Another grin, and he shut her door, watching as she pulled out of the parking lot and down the street, still smiling to himself as he hailed a cab to go home. It had been one damn long day, but somehow, it had all turned out for the better in the end.
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"You two leaving?" Brass rubbed his itchy cast uncomfortably. Six weeks till the damn thing was off. God, it was gonna be a long month and a half.
"Yeah, I'm giving Sara a lift. You need one?" Grissom offered as he wheeled her down the hall.
Brass considered the two people before him. "Nah, I'll just take a cab. Easier on everybody."
"You gonna come tomorrow and see Greg?" He smiled at Sara.
"If you're coming, then I guess I could show up and keep you company," he returned easily.
She laughed lightly. "You, Jim Brass, are one big softy."
"Nah, I'm just getting too old for this shit. You spread that stuff around Sidle, and I'm ruined," he warned, grinning in spite of himself. "I still have to finish with the front desk before I'm gone, so you two go on ahead."
"Bye Brass, see you tomorrow. And...thanks."
"For what?" He'd done nothing but try not to panic.
"For- for being there with me. I, I don't know how I would have been if you hadn't been in the ambulance with me." She blushed and looked down.
"Hey," He grabbed her hand and squeezed lightly. "You're a fighter, Sar. I was just along for the free ride and the cool whirly lights." She laughed. "Take care kiddo." She nodded, and looked at Grissom, who hesitated.
"I–" He glanced from her to Brass uneasily.
"I'll be waiting on the sidewalk Griss." She smiled at him and wheeled out without a backwards glance.
"Yyyyess?" Brass grinned.
"I...I should thank you too, Jim. For watching out for my CSI's." He paused. "For watching out for Sara."
Brass chuckled. "Why Gil, is that you head I see peeking out of your ass? The light's a little bright, isn't it?"
Grissom glared, but it was an empty threat. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jim."
"Yeah, see you." But Grissom was already shuffling hurriedly after Sara. Brass gave a final grin, unexpectedly happy with the outcome of the horrific day, and turned back to fill out some more papers for that Nazi at the front desk.
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"I want you to sleep Sara, and if you even try coming in tonight, I'll–"
"Right. Look Grissom, I'm completely dead on my...well, in my chair. I plan on crashing tonight, thank you very much, so save your threats for when the cabin fever sets in." As they stood outside her apartment, the air was so pleasantly free of tension, they both felt almost giddy. God what a strange day.
He smirked at her. "Right." They enjoyed a moment of silence, before he spoke again. "Call if you need anything?"
She smiled at him, feeling exhaustion shaking in her muscles. "I will."
For the second time that day, his hand caressed her face. "Anything, Sara. I mean it."
Blinking and drained and content, Sara nodded. "Thank you, Grissom."
Both knew nothing more could be said right then. There was too much to cover and not enough time for their sleep-deprived brains to dissect it all. Sharing a final smile, Grissom's hand slid off her cheek. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, Sara."
"Right, Grissom, see you then." She watched, as he turned away, making his way back to his vehicle. His phone rang as he went, and she could hear his standard 'Grissom' as he disappeared around the corner. Grinning, and too tired to worry about just how screwed up all of this was, Sara wheeled into her apartment, headed straight for pajamas and bed, the door shutting with a soft 'click' behind her.
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Sofia sniffled, sniffled again, and finally gave in and sneezed. "Uhg!" She definitely didn't want to go to work tonight. But she'd already taken last night off, and she wasn't fevered anymore. She sighed disappointedly, reaching for the phone beside her bed. So what if he was asleep, she was going to call him.
He picked up on the third ring, a monotone "Grissom." Reaching her ears as she'd expected. He didn't sound groggy.
"Uh, hey Grissom, it's Sofia. I just wanted to tell you that I'll be coming in tonight, and I wanted to check up and see what all I missed out on last shift...Grissom?"
THE FREAKIN END. (But not really)
GAHH! It's DONE! I FINISHED a multichapter fic! YEAHH! Ok, yeah, I'm disgustingly proud of myself, because I'm so dang lazy, it's ridiculous. ::Grins::
OK, PEOPLE This one is IMPORTANT. I have gotten incredible feedback from this fic, but I know there are those of you who read and don't review, which honors me completely that you've even taken the time to read my work. But THIS is the chapter where I need EVERYONE who has read my little...thingy...to review and tell me what you think. This is where I need your opinion on where you want it to go in the sequel, how you think I'm doing, and where I really need to get a feel for how many of you are reading my stuff. I haven't asked for feedback before, because you have all been delivering so beautifully anyway, but THIS IS THE TIME where, even if I never hear from you again, I need you to drop me a line and send out your thoughts, anonymous, flames, or peals of laughter at my stupidity. Thank you all sooo much for sticking with me, it's been an incredible experience, and the first chapter of thenextfic in this seriesshould be up by the end of the weekend!
TEASER: (For those of you who wanna know what the next fic holds. ::silence:: Anyone? ANYONE? Aw, hell, you get it anyway.)
After the events ofNG, Greg's mother comes to town to 'help' him out, Catherine and Warrick are trying to move in a good direction and avoid the cringeing drama that ensues, the author is desperately trying to figure out how to stand writing Sofia into her fic, and the Geeks just can't catch themselves a break to work things out. Did I mention the serial killer? Oh yeah...