A/N: I don't own the movie "The Bodyguard," or anything related to it. I haven't actually seen it, but it's my twin's latest obsession. Is she completely nuts? I tend to think so... but hey, what do I know?
Chapter 5: Sleep
"... And take a look at this."
Doc Robbins' voice was the first sound that Catherine heard when she pushed her way into the morgue. It pissed her off immensely, and the fact that he was speaking to Sara only made things worse.
"Excuse me, guys," she broke in as Sara leaned down to take a closer look at the body before her. When the pair glanced up, she glared at them. "I just talked to David. He had quite an interesting story to tell me. Apparently there was a good reason Grissom went home early tonight."
The look of guilty surprise that crossed both faces before her confirmed her suspicions. Surprisingly, the admission did nothing to heighten her anger; instead, she merely sighed and walked over to stand beside Sara. There was a long moment of silence as coroner and CSI waited for her to speak.
"I really should have kept my mouth shut, shouldn't I? How could I do that to him?" she finally murmured.
Sara glanced at her, and shrugged. There was no way she was going to comment on this one, though she agreed that Catherine should have left well enough alone; or at least been a little easier on him.
Robbins, however, spoke up, his voice matter-of-fact. "He's under a lot of stress, Catherine. It may be hard, but you need to try and understand, or at least learn to ignore his outbursts. The fallout from something like what he went through can be extreme, and potentially destructive to many people; especially the person experiencing it first hand."
"Grissom," Sara put in bitterly.
Robbins nodded. "Yes." Then he sighed. "You may be confused and upset by his sudden mood swings, but imagine how he feels. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He's hurting, and he's scared, but he doesn't know how to tell anyone. Anger is a common reaction when something like this happens because when you can't express your emotions it's an easy, seemingly less-painful substitute. It keeps would-be rescuers at bay. Which is a good thing, as far as he sees it, because it's what he wants, if not what he needs. For him, it's safe."
"Come on, Al," Catherine said sharply. "Why would he want to keep us at a distance after all this? All we want to do is help. We're his friends."
"It's not about friends anymore, Catherine," Robbins stated softly. "It's about fear, and pain, and hiding from those emotions. They're powerful feelings, as I'm sure you know well." His discreet reference to Eddie hurt, and she felt guilt wash over her as she suddenly thought of all the times Grissom had been there for her during those years.
The silence that followed his words was oppressing. It weighed down on them until finally Sara spoke. "There was something he said earlier... 'I know what I did and who I am.' At the time I thought he was feeling guilty about killing that robber but now... Now I'm not so sure."
"Survivors guilt," Robbins said matter-of-factly with a shake of his head. "Maybe he feels he should have saved those other people."
Suddenly, they were interrupted as Warrick strode into the room. "Hey, Cath, David told me I'd find you down here..." He trailed off as he realized how tense the atmosphere was, and he backed away, his hands raised. "Whoa, ok, sorry to interrupt, guys. Just wanted to tell you Greg's ready for us, Cath. Sara, he said he should be done with your evidence either sometime by the end of shift, or first thing tomorrow morning."
"Ok," both women acknowledged his words. As Catherine quickly left the room, Warrick frowned suspiciously at Sara and Doc Robbins.
"I'm not even gonna ask," he stated with a shake of his head before he, too, turned to leave.
Sara just frowned and turned back to Robbins with a sigh. "Ok, what was I supposed to be looking at here?"
Robbins smiled, and pointed to bloody cut and the nasty looking bruise that was situated behind the deceased Mr. Henderson's ear. Sara frowned, and inspected the cut more closely. "Nice," she muttered sarcastically. "Doesn't look like it was made with the murder weapon."
Robbins nodded as he moved over to the other side of the morgue and pointed to the x-rays he had posted. "See there? The shape it made when it punctured his skull?"
Sara frowned as she stood behind him. "It looks..."
"Like some sort of a ring?" Robbins supplied with a smile.
Sara nodded, and then glanced at the clock. Shift was almost over. "Thanks, Doc," she said, running her eyes over the body one last time before turning towards the door. "Can you page me when I'll be able to get a mold of that wound?"
"Definitely," Robbins called after her as she exited the room. "I'm sure I could get David to find you for me."
Sara threw a sarcastic yet slightly amused, "whatever, Doc," over her shoulder before disappearing out the door.
Robbins began to clean up, chuckling quietly to himself as he worked.
The end of shift found Sara sitting in Grissom's office. It was there Nick came across her, staring dejectedly at her supervisor's tarantula as the spider slowly crawled across its tank and peered at her intently from behind the glass.
"Hey, Sara!" Nick said as he leaned in the office door, a grin plastered across his face.
Sara jumped. "Huh? What?" Then she saw who it was and she returned the smile, if a little less enthusiastically.
Unfortunately Nick picked up on it instantly. He made his way into the room and slumped down on Grissom's couch beside her. "What's up, little sister?"
Sara punched him in the shoulder and rolled her eyes at him exasperatedly.
"Sorry," he amended, but his eyes gave him away, and he only earned himself another punch and a muttered threat against his life.
He knew she wasn't serious, but he could sense the agitation that was threatening to spill over at his good-natured teasing, and he toned it down and forced himself to sober up.
"So..." he began, his eyes hinting at her.
Sara shrugged. "So what?"
They eyed each other in silence, neither saying a word, and then Nick cocked an eyebrow at her.
"What happened with Grissom?"
Sara considered lying, but decided against it. Nick knew her too well. Instead, she merely shook her head and turned her attention back to Grissom's spider. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Ok," Nick conceded. "But if he did something to hurt you, I'll..."
"It wasn't him," Sara broke in sharply.
With a nod, Nick let it drop. He was rewarded for his discretion minutes later, when Sara turned to him once again and began speaking as though they were continuing a previous conversation.
"It's just... I'm scared. Scared I won't be able to help him. Sacred he won't let me help him. He's just so... so angry, I guessEvery little thing, he can't control himself."
"If this is about the coffee thing earlier," Nick began cautiously, but she cut him off.
"It is, Nick, and the way he reacted when Greg tried to help him at the scene, and the way he got when I tried to get him to talk earlier." She then proceeded to tell him about her earlier encounter with Grissom at his home, conveniently leaving out the reason he had returned there. When she was done, she paused and took a breath. "Doc Robbins said he's like that because he doesn't know how to express what he's really feeling..."
"Fear," Nick supplied, his eyes sad. "Pain."
Sara nodded. "Yeah," she whispered.
They were silent for a moment, and then Nick pulled her into a hug as a tear rolled down her cheek. "I just don't know what to do, Nick," she whispered as her own arms tightened around his shoulders and she held on for dear life.
Nick sighed as he patted her back soothingly. He had always felt protective of her – she was like a little sister to him, though he would never tell her or anyone else that. He knew exactly how she felt about Grissom, without her ever having to say a word. As far as he was concerned, if Grissom broke her heart one more time Nick would be the lucky guy who would have the honour of digging the man his grave.
Considering this, Nick began racking his brains for a way to help both her and Grissom. The two of them just went together – if Grissom was happy, so was Sara, and vice versa. It was basically a package deal.
"Ok," he finally said as he felt her relax in his arms, and he leaned back so he could look her in the eye. "Here's my genius plan."
Sara chuckled a bit at that, and wiped her eyes. "This better be good," she muttered.
Nick grinned, and refrained from answering. "It's the end of shift. Why don't you head over to Grissom's house?"
"I was already over there earlier, he kicked me out," she groaned. "We discussed this already."
With a shake of his head, Nick continued. "Take a movie, and some popcorn. I'd say beer, but he might get the wrong impression."
Sara glanced up at him, concern in her eyes. "You think he might start drinking?" she asked anxiously.
Nick shook his head until he thought his brains would come out his ears. He hadn't meant to give her that impression at all. "No," he amended quickly, "I'm just saying..."
At her still-concerned look, he sighed and changed tactics. "Forget I said that. Just... go over; be a friend. Pretend nothing's different. If you're cheerful and happy he might..."
He trailed off as Sara suddenly stood abruptly, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Nicky," she said with a grin, and then she was gone.
"Uh, you're welcome," Nick muttered to himself. He glanced at Grissom's tarantula, and shook his head. "Must have said something right," he told the spider seriously.
Grissom was staring blankly at his TV when his doorbell rang. He had been sitting there for over half an hour – ever since the sun had started to rise and he had been able to pull himself from his nightmare-filled, exhausted half-sleep and find his way from the door to his couch.
One of his reasons for spending the hours before this curled there on the floor by the door was he was just too tired to get up. But the other reason... the other reason was just plain fear. He had been too scared to move; too scared to find out what the shadows might have held. So he had sat there, trembling, unable to tell the difference between the broken nightmares and reality, until finally the sun came up and the room was filled with light again.
His bell rang again, and this time he was unable to ignore it. He stood and stumbled over to the door. His migraine had finally gone, but the exhaustion was still there, and he had a hard time getting his feet to move.
Opening his door, he could only stare when he saw who it was.
"Hey," Sara greeted him with a smile. Then she frowned when she took in his appearance. His face was pale and drawn, his eyes red. His curly hair was tousled, and it was as though he was having a hard time focusing on her. "Were you sleeping?" she questioned worriedly, beginning to second-guess her decision to go with Nicky's 'genius plan.' She was relieved when Grissom shook his head.
"No," he said. Then he nodded towards her hands, effectively changing the subject. "What's that?"
Sara's grin returned, and she held up her bag. "Oh, I just brought over a movie and some popcorn."
"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asked as she pushed her way past him without asking for an invitation.
Sara gave him a pointed look. "Shouldn't you?" was her quick response.
Grissom nearly panicked at the obvious implication, but he didn't need to worry. She simply continued into his house and made herself comfortable.
With a barely audible sigh of relief, Grissom let it go and followed her back into his living room. He slumped down wearily onto his couch, keeping a wary eye on Sara as she began fiddling with his TV. He wanted to sleep so badly, but he was afraid to. He might as well watch another show; the fact that it was with Sara was a bonus, though the idea of having her here now scared him a bit. What if she wanted to talk again?
"Which movie?" he asked as she shoved it into the VCR. It seemed like a safe question.
"The Bodyguard," she threw over her shoulder with a guilty looking grin.
"With Kevin Costner and what's her name? Whitney Houston?"
The disapproving scowl on his face only caused Sara's grin to grow, and she flopped down onto the couch beside him and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You'll survive," she said. "You might actually like it by the end."
He wondered, as he eyed the popcorn suspiciously, whether he'd be able to keep it down. He hadn't had much luck with food lately. "Not a chance," he had muttered absently in reply to her statement, but he soon found himself drawn into the story.
It was nice, being able to immerse yourself in someone else's world and forget about your own for a while, even if that someone else's world wasn't the most intriguing one you had ever encountered. It was nice to pretend you had no problems, and everything was perfect.
And it was nice, too, to share that world with Sara as they sat together in companionable silence, there hands sometimes brushing as they both went for the popcorn at the same time. Every few minutes he would glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and his mouth would twitch up in a small smile at the different expressions on her face as she watched. Then he would look away when he remembered that this world wasn't real, and sooner or later they would have to leave, and he wouldn't be able to share with her anymore. Wouldn't be able to share with anyone, because that would be too dangerous.
It wasn't long into the movie when Sara's eyes started to droop. She was surprised at first. Normally she didn't go to sleep until much later than this, and she was never tired. But apparently the stress of the past month had gotten to her, and she finally gave up fighting it and let her eyes close, a small, sleepy smile tugging at her mouth as she wondered how Grissom would react to her falling asleep on his couch.
It took a while for Grissom to notice the weight on his arm; then he glanced over at Sara again, and realized it was her. She had fallen asleep, and her head now rested softly against his shoulder.
Damn, he thought, his eyes widening in surprise and panic, but then she sighed in her sleep and curled up so she was pressed against his side, and his eyes softened. God, she's... stop it! he told himself irritably. Just stop it. For the longest time he sat there, afraid to move incase he woke her. Then, slowly, after what seemed like an eternity, he relaxed, and his arm snaked around her shoulder and hugged her to him firmly. He let his chin fall to rest on her hair, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek as he thought vaguely that this would probably be the one and only time anything like this ever happened.
By the time the movie was over, Grissom himself was feeling his exhaustion weighing down on him again, but he continued to fight it. It wouldn't do for him to fall asleep here next to Sara, and then wake up screaming. The sudden thought sent a wave of fear through him again, and he tightened his hold on her involuntarily.
Realizing what he was doing suddenly, Grissom relaxed his hold and carefully, so as not to wake her, shifted out from under her and laid her down gently on the sofa. He swayed a bit unsteadily at first as he stood, but then he managed to stop the world from spinning, and he moved over to the VCR and ejected the video. He began searching for the case then, wondering where on earth Sara could have put it.
Even such a simple task as that worked to keep his mind occupied for a while.
It was as he was about to put the movie away that the words on the case caught his eye. "Never let her out of your sight. Never let your guard down. Never fall in love," he read softly.
The words fit the story within the movie perfectly, yet in the back of his mind Grissom could draw parallels between them and his own life, as well. Never let her out of your sight. Never let your guard down. Never fall in love. It hurt like hell, when he thought about it, because it was so true. He couldn't let Sara out of his life. That one time she had tried to leave Vegas he had nearly panicked. He had managed to get her to stay, but he still couldn't force himself to let her get close; couldn't force himself to let his guard down and let her in, and couldn't allow himself to love her. And now he was screwed on all counts. Now it was doubly important to keep her out. Glancing over at where she slept on the couch, he felt a stab of pain rip through his chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispered painfully.
Why not just pretend? came a small voice in his head. Just this once, pretend you can let her in. Pretend you can love her.
I can't, he retorted sharply. I can't do that to her. Or to myself.
But he ached to hold her, and to be held; to have that feeling of safety she brought.
It's ok, the little voice whispered. Nothing bad will happen.
Tentatively, he moved back over to the couch and sat again, slowly laying down beside her and wrapping his arms around her. For the longest time he merely laid there, his heart racing as he watched her sleep. This will never happen again, he thought suddenly, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind angrily. I don't care, he thought fiercely. I just...I just need her now...
He allowed his hand to trail softly across her face as though in defiance of himself, and even the world, and involuntarily he started to cry softly. The exhaustion rolled over him in waves, and he finally allowed his eyes to close against the pain.
As hedrifted off to sleep, his face still wet with tears, he didn't see Sara's eyes open the tiniest bit as she watched him. He didn't feel her hand gently brush across his cheek, and he didn't feel the soft touch of her lips against his forehead as she whispered goodnight.
