Pairing: GS
Summary: Those annoying gaps in Nesting Dolls. I can't stand it. More filling in of gaps here.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. CBS, Alliance Atlantis, and others own everything. No infringement is intended. Don't sue me. Just spacing out in my own little world.
Spoilers: Snakes, Nesting Dolls, etc. S5
Sorry if this chapter seems slow – setting things up for later, and anyway, I'm still reeling from this weeks "Unbearable" fiasco. That's my excuse.
Many thanks to Taramis, Rokothepas, Chicklit, Eaglesei, Gravedigger and Laura Katharine for their continued reviews, and everyone else for taking the time. I hope I don't appear to be groveling, but I'm really happily shocked and appreciative of the kind comments. I'll shut up now.
Chapter 2
He had called roughly 24 hours later, midmorning after the next shift. Sara was curled up on her couch, watching TV without much interest when the phone rang.
He sounded tired. "Hello, Sara. It's Grissom." he always identified himself formally, like she wouldn't know his voice after all these years.
"Hi." she managed.
"How are you doing?" Grissom asked.
"I'm alright, Grissom…what happened? How bad is it?"
Grissom sighed. He'd already decided to be honest as possible with her about the events in Ecklie's office, because things were just too serious for her not to know.
"When I got to the lab, Ecklie already had an email waiting for me, regarding your discipline. Catherine was in his office with him. I told him I wasn't going to fire you, and she asked me what action I was taking. I told her I'd already taken it, and they didn't ask me to elaborate."
"Basically I told Ecklie your behavior was a result of my mismanagement, and he made some snarky comment about maybe I was the one who should be fired. I decided to call his bluff, and when I did, he backed off." Grissom paused, hoping that would satisfy Sara.
It didn't. "He didn't just back off." she said incredulously.
"No, he then proceeded to say that you were a loose cannon and were my responsibility." He paused. "He thinks you're going to go off, Sara, and now he's got my word that I'll take full responsibility for it. I'm starting to wonder if that wasn't what he wanted all along."
Sara's mind was racing, but she managed to ask, "What about Catherine?"
Grissom sighed again. "Catherine…well, she didn't push me, but she looked pretty cozy with Ecklie. That's been happening for a while. She just stared at me. I'm sure I'll have her storming my office soon, but at least she didn't question me in front of him."
He didn't elaborate any further. He wasn't sure about Catherine anymore. On the one hand he had thought her silence meant she was giving him a chance to talk about it later, but he also knew she could just be playing it safe politically. He knew enough to realize she'd be looking out for herself in all these recent events. Grissom just hoped she didn't decide to side with Ecklie more than she already appeared to be because of what she saw as Sara's attack on her.
He waited. Sara could hear him rifling through a cabinet, and the clink of a glass.
"I can't believe you bluffed him about your job, Grissom…you shouldn't have done that."
"Well, I did," he replied, "and now he'll be waiting for either you or I to screw up in any way possible. I've never really drawn a line with him, you know, and now that I have, I have no way of knowing what will happen."
Sara snorted. "He'll be out to get both of us."
Grissom was quiet for a moment.
"I think he's out to get me, more than you." he said quietly. "But he won't go after me directly, and he'll use you and anything or anyone else he can to get to me. I basically declared war today, Sara – that was my choice. I don't, however, want him hurting you to get to me, and I may have increased the chances of that when I was trying to protect you by putting myself on the line instead."
Sara felt her stomach sink. "He started by breaking up your team. And I played right into his little plan by giving him an excuse to get rid of me. Now he's got the added option, since you stuck up for me, of setting you up to fail if I screw up any more."
"I'm sure he sees that as a bonus." Grissom stated flatly.
She felt terrible. She had been resigned, even after Grissom had left her apartment, to the very real possibility that he wouldn't be able to get anywhere with Ecklie. She hadn't really thought it out, but she certainly wouldn't have thought Grissom would decide to put himself on the line. He had done it for Warrick and Catherine, though. Maybe with her his motives were more personal, but she didn't know whether to believe that or not. He may have put his job on the line for her, but it was just safer to think he was doing it for the reasons he usually did – the job. In any case, he had been there for her, and Sara decided she owed it to him to do whatever was necessary to rectify the mess she had caused and help him fight Ecklie.
"Grissom," she said softly. "I'm sorry I put you in this mess. What do you want me to do?"
He didn't miss a beat. "I want you to get better, Sara. No matter what happens. That doesn't really have anything to do with work, although it would certainly help both of us at work. I want you to work through…everything, and let me help you do that. I have some suggestions. That's what I want to see happen outside work."
"I need you one hundred percent at work. Like you used to be. I depend on you there more than you realize. Especially now. Greg's doing well, but he's still learning, and we both need to watch out for him. Sophia…she's an unknown. She does good work, but I have no idea if she'll stay around and I don't know her well enough to trust her. I don't have my perfect team anymore, and Ecklie knows it. You're the only one left I can count on that is experienced and fully capable."
"I'm going to have to spend more time than I'd like learning how to play politics in the future, Sara, and I need to know that the cases are being worked to the letter, that Greg's being supervised well, and that protocol is being followed. Sooner or later, Ecklie will screw up." It's going to be a race to see who does first: him or me, he thought.
He sighed. "I was trying to simplify my job, so I could …" Grissom faltered and trailed off.
"Well," Sara said, "I don't know what your suggestions are about my, um, personal problems, but I'm willing to listen, Grissom. And as far as work's concerned, I learned my lesson about my temper, and I promise I will be very careful considering the politics. I can make sure cases get done correctly, and watch out for Greg. I can perform my job the way I used to. Whatever ways I can watch out for you like you have for me, I will."
She hoped that sounded convincing. She actually felt pretty good about it.
"I don't expect you to apologize straight out to Ecklie, Sara, but I need you to at least be civil to him for now. And learn not to lose your temper with him, of all people, anymore."
She laughed and tried her best to sound confident. "Actually, I'm probably more politically savvy than you are. I can be polite and civil to his face, anyway. I'll make a point, when I get back, to let him know that. What about Catherine?"
"I know better than to ask you and Catherine to apologize to each other…" Grissom began.
Sara snorted.
"I'm going to feel her out, and if I get anywhere, I'll let you know." Grissom left it at that. Frankly, he was pretty confused about Catherine. He considered her a good friend, and up until now, he'd thought he could trust her despite her ambitions. Now he wondered if the best he could hope for was for Catherine to remain neutral, if his situation with Ecklie (or Sara, for that matter) escalated.
"You know, I never wanted to squabble with Catherine, from the start." Sara mumbled. "I know she saw me as a threat at first, but I thought we got past that. Sometimes we get along, and sometimes not, and most of the time I'm not sure why. She's volatile too, you know."
"She can be." he replied. "She's also ruthless, though, in a way you are not, so I'd be happy if the two of you just stayed out of each other's way."
Sara started, surprised, but he didn't elaborate.
"I know your take on any further counseling." Grissom continued after a moment.
"Well, it hasn't really helped so far." she said a little defensively.
"Then my suggestion would be to counsel yourself, with some guidance from books, the support of a friend –that would be me – and maybe think about some kind of support group, where you could at least talk to other people with similar backgrounds."
Silence from Sara. He could feel her trepidation over the phone.
"There are a lot of good psychological resources, Sara. I think if you looked into the psychology of what has happened to you by reading about it yourself, you'd be much better prepared to deal with it and how it affects you now. It's not much different from having a medical condition. You need to educate yourself. It's a way to take control and empower yourself."
"I'm going to research it too." He continued. "I'm going to get you started with a few books, and I'm going to expect you to discuss them with me. Not in boring detail or to the point you're sick of talking to me, but a discussion."
"I can be your experiment." she joked.
"I can't fix things for you. You have to do it yourself." Grissom stated.
"Oh, I know." she sighed. "I suppose you are talking about one of those beaten women support groups, or something, too?"
"If you could go to a group like that, I think it might help. I'm a good listener, but I simply don't have the same experiences as you do. I have events in my own past I can use to correlate, but the experiences are different. I think you might find talking to people who have very similar experiences to yours a good thing, if you can stop trying to help them long enough to let them help you."
"I'm a very private person, Grissom. You of all people should understand that."
"I do understand that. I think you'll find the people in groups like that do also. I'm going to research it and see what's available locally, and I want you to think about it." he finished firmly.
She was quiet for a few moments. She thought she could deal with the idea of reading a lot of psychology and testimony, but the idea of going to a support group had always rubbed her the wrong way. It admitted weakness even more than telling Grissom had been admitting weakness, in her skewed way of looking at it. However, there wasn't much choice anymore. Nothing else was working, she was tired of it messing up her life, and Grissom had put himself on the line for her, after all.
"I guess I'm just used to keeping it all such a secret, for so long, it's really hard for me to consider. But I'll try, Grissom."
"Good." he sounded relieved.
"You sound really tired. Go get some sleep." she ordered.
"I intend to. I also intend to bring you some books in a few days. I'll call you first."
"OK." she sighed. "Bye."
"Goodnight."
True to his word, Grissom had called two days later, before making another visit to her apartment on his way to work. She opened the door to find him holding a large plastic bag from the local Border's bookstore.
"I don't have much time." he apologized.
"That's OK. Come in."
He stood hesitantly, and she wasn't sure if he was in too much of a hurry to sit, or was just uncomfortable. Maybe he thinks I'm going to break down every time he comes over, she thought. Poor Grissom.
"That's for me?" she said brightly, pointing at the bag.
He handed it to her, and she took it over to the coffee table, pulling out books as she went. "I know you're in a hurry. Just give me a rundown." she sat down on the couch. To her surprise, he sat down gingerly next to her.
"This one is just a general psych book on various forms of abuse." he began, showing her the first book. "This one covers murder within families, with some case studies and testimony from family members. And this one deals with children that come from abusive family situations, from childhood to adulthood. It seems pretty extensive, and has a lot of coping strategies." The last book was particularly thick.
"What's this?" she picked up the last item, a slim, fabric-covered book with no title. When she opened it, she saw the pages were blank and ruled, notebook-style.
"It's a journal." Grissom stated. "I've been through these books, and in one it mentioned that writing down all your memories and how you perceive them is a good first step in empowering yourself and letting go of the past."
She stared at it. The fabric was a rich purple paisley, with a darker purple trim. He had obviously chosen it based on its appearance, with her in mind.
"It's very pretty." she said. "Wait – you read all these already?"
He looked embarrassed. "I skimmed through most of them. I have my own copies. I, um, highlighted parts in your copies that you might want to look at. I do expect you to read them, though, not skim them like I did." he looked at her sternly.
Sara couldn't believe he'd read them all; even skimming, it must have taken hours and hours of his time. She had a vision of Grissom sitting in his sterile apartment, tired after a day of office politics, reading psychology for hours that had nothing to do with him. She was amazed, to say the least. "I'll read them. I promise."
"And the journal? I really think it would be good for you to do that. I won't even read it. I just want to know if it helps when you finish, to go back and read it, analyze, that sort of thing."
"I've never thought about putting it all down." she admitted.
"I think now would be a good time." he replied, softly. "Oh, and I made you a list." He shuffled through his jacket pockets and produced a folded piece of paper full of his usual messy writing.
She took it. "A list of local groups." She smiled and shook her head. "You're thorough, of course."
"Of course." he said with a smile. He straightened his back and stood up. "I had better go; I don't want to be late these days. Promise me you'll do your homework?"
"Promise. I have a few days to go before I'm allowed back to work, after all. I've totally exhausted all my activity options already, so I won't have an excuse not to."
"I'll call you in the next day or two. I have to go be political now."
With that, he was out the door. Sara sighed and picked up the general psych book about abuse.
So Sara sat, a couple of days later, staring at the journal on the table. She'd kept her promise, and was well into all of the books Grissom had brought. The notebook idea scared her, though, more than she liked to admit.
Grissom had surprised her further by beginning to email her. He'd rarely emailed her in the past, and always from his work address. She'd been surprised when she saw the first message in her inbox from him, and from a new, non-work address. Obviously that would be safer. He had sent an email every day since then. They were short, usually just a few sentences regarding what she was reading and what was going on at work, but always, at the end of the message, there would be a short, personal comment. This morning the comment had been, Thank you for doing this. I miss the Sara I used to know, and I hope to see her again soon. He signed them, as usual, just Grissom. She sighed. Another huge step for Grissom, she knew, whether he reciprocated her feelings for him or not. She wanted so much to think that was what it was.
She knew he was having a very hard time communicating with her, and she knew also he was probably being forced to communicate more with everyone else at work, if he was going to pursue his political strategy. It had to be exhausting and frustrating for him. She figured the emails were a good way for him to avoid stumbling over his words in actual conversation with her, and to say things he probably wouldn't have the courage to say otherwise. So she wrote back promptly for every email, answering his questions seriously but keeping the tone light. She carefully didn't respond strongly to his personal comments, just basically thanking him for his concern, but she knew that would get harder.
She sighed, picked up the journal and a pen, and began to print carefully. She decided to start when she was seven years old; since that was the age she really became cognizant that all was not well in her household. At first, the sentences came painfully slow, but after awhile, she was surprised that hours had passed. She smiled grimly, went back and wrote what she thought about what she had written so far, and by then was exhausted. She'd filled pages and pages.
This just might work after all, she mused.