Disclaimer/Author's Note – See Chapter One
Chapter Six – Bad Dreams
Sweat poured down her face as she sat bolt upright in bed, shivering from head to toe. Sara couldn't remember the dreams completely; just snatches of voices and images, swirling together in a terrifying cacophony. Reaching out one shaking hand, she groped for the bedside lamp and switched it on.
Sara looked around her simply decorated bedroom, half expecting to see someone – Jill, Elaine, Hank, she wasn't sure who – standing over her. Bile crept up into her throat and she struggled for a moment to keep from throwing up. She found herself wishing she had something to drink in her apartment, bourbon or beer, it didn't matter, just something to wash the taste of fear from her mouth.
Instinctively, she picked up her phone and stabbed out his number, pausing on the last digit. Her rational mind kicked in and she hung up the phone. As much as she wanted to call Grissom right now, she knew it was probably a bad idea. Things were still too complicated between them. She didn't know how he felt or what he wanted, and she was too afraid to ask.
It took a few minutes before her breathing slowed down to something resembling its normal rate and, when it had, Sara slowly got out of bed and left the room. She knew she had no mission of getting any more sleep today. Instead, she went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of strong coffee, before settling down on the couch with a forensics textbook, trying desperately to block the dreams from her mind.
---
Grissom tried in vain to get some sleep after Catherine left his townhouse. He would doze off in fits and starts, only to be roused by a fresh assault of her voice, reverberating around his mind, telling him he had hurt Sara.
'Something to do with you is causing her pain.'
This statement swam round and round in his head, making him feel sick with guilt. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Sara any more pain. If anything, he had been trying to save her from it. He had been afraid that their becoming involved would be a mistake. That they'd only end up hurting each other. He also worried that it was all too soon for Sara. That she may be suffering from post-traumatic stress and would cling to him for support, only to regret her decision when the trauma had passed.
Inevitably when this thought entered his mind, he mentally kicked himself for initiating things between them in the first place. He should never have gone to her apartment that morning. He should have waited. He had momentarily been swept up in the notion of swooping in like some kind of knight from an overly romantic melodrama and gathering her up into his arms, taking all the pain away. Instead he had caused more of it. He had screwed everything up, and confused Sara even more than she already was.
Catherine was right. He would have to talk to her. The problem was, he didn't know what he wanted to say. How could he explain to Sara that he wanted to be with her, but he was frightened of the consequences of their being together? How could he tell her that he feared she would break his heart? She had so much to deal with right now; did she really need to deal with this too? And yet, if he didn't resolve the situation soon, would they have any chance at a future together?
Taking a deep breath, he reached for the phone.
---
Sara had been staring off into space, unwillingly going over her dreams in her mind when she was startled out of her reverie by the phone ringing. Giving herself a shake for being so jumpy, she answered it on the fourth ring.
'Hello?' she asked, cringing at the scared, weak undertone of her voice.
'Sara? Are you okay?'
Surprised that Grissom was calling her, she didn't answer. 'Sara? Are you still there?' he asked.
'Uh, yeah, sorry. I'm fine. Why?'
'You just don't sound like yourself,' Grissom replied, feeling guilty. She sounded upset and he figured, after Catherine's earlier speech directed at him, he was at least partly to blame. 'You sound… upset.'
Clearing her throat, trying to sound more together, she said, 'No, I'm fine, Grissom. I was, uh… reading.'
Not convinced, Grissom decided now was not the time to start avoiding the subject. 'Sara, come on. Talk to me. What's bothering you?'
It was like he knew, Sara thought. But that was impossible. Debating whether or not to feed him an out and out lie, or just skim the surface of what was bothering her, she surprised herself by telling him the truth. 'I had a bad dream. A nightmare, I guess. It kind of shook me up.'
This wasn't what Grissom had expected, but it was clearly what Sara needed to talk about right now, so he went with it. 'It's perfectly natural, Sara,' he told her. 'It's your mind finally starting to deal with what happened. Can you remember it?'
Sara closed her eyes and tried to visualise the dream. 'It was really disjointed. I know Jill was there. She, uh, she was taunting me. Telling me I'd never see anyone I cared about again. And Hank…' she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before she could continue. 'He was asking me to help him. But I couldn't reach him in time. And then I heard your voice…' she trailed off.
When she didn't go on, Grissom asked; 'What did I say, Sara?'
'You, uh… you were calling my name. Like you were searching for me. You kept calling my name over and over again. But when I looked for you, I couldn't find you. It was so dark, and I couldn't find you.' Tears now flowed freely down her face. 'And then I heard a gunshot and saw you lying there. There was so much blood,' she sobbed.
The sound of Sara's tears made his throat constrict. He wished he was there beside her, rather than only being connected by a telephone line. 'Sara, it's okay. It was just a dream.' When she continued to cry, he went on. 'I'm right here, Sara. I'm not going anywhere.'
'I know it was just a nightmare,' she told him, her crying easing, but the fear still present in her voice, 'but it felt so real. When I woke up, it felt like you…' She couldn't bring herself to tell him that for one, terrifying moment when she woke up, she had thought he really was dead.
'Do you want me to come over?'
'Yes… no… I don't know,' she answered, wanting him there but afraid to ask. 'I'm okay. Really. It just shook me up a little.'
'Sara.'
'Yes, I want you to come over. But…'
'I'll be right there.'
---
Greg yawned as he turned the page on the report he was reading. Taking a fortifying gulp of coffee, he added another name to his list. He had gone back over the 66 names that he and Sara had pulled from McMann's list of clients, and was now narrowing it down further by going over repayment details, rates of interest and McMann's telephone records. Apparently, Vinny liked to call the clients who had trouble paying him and harass them. So now 66 names had become 9.
Catherine walked into the room as Greg yawned once more. She checked her watch and took a look at the dark circles under his eyes. 'You didn't go home today, did you?'
Greg looked up, with a slightly sheepish expression. 'Not exactly.' Off her look, he explained, 'I caught a few hours on the couch in the break room. I wanted to get somewhere with this first.'
Despite his lecture to Sara about getting some rest and not overdoing it, Greg had done the exact opposite. He was determined to turn something up, both to help break the case and to ensure that Sara didn't feel the need to over do it when she came back in that evening.
'And have you?' Catherine wanted to know.
'Maybe,' Greg replied. 'I've possibly narrowed our suspect list down from 66 to 9.'
'Well, that's something,' Catherine replied, pleased. 'It'll certainly be easier to run background checks on 9 people as opposed to 66.'
'Maybe I can help with that,' Brass suggested as he strode into the room. 'I've been doing some checking of my own, and apparently one of Vinny the Shark's clients shouldn't even be on his books, since he appears to be dead.'
'He's got a deceased client on his books?' Catherine asked. 'Who's he been collecting money from?'
'The widow,' Brass replied, with a note of disgust in his voice. 'And I'll do you one better. His client, a Mr. James Davis, committed suicide, allegedly as a result of the loan.'
'Motive. The widow maybe?'
'Maybe,' Brass agreed. 'I'm going to have a little chat with her now. I wanted to know if you or Grissom wanted to tag along.'
'Grissom's not in yet,' Catherine told him. 'But I'm up for it.'
Greg had been busy scanning his list and looked up at them, beaming. 'Davis, James and Davis, Julie are on my new improved list. And guess what Mrs Davis's preferred mode of relaxation is?'
'Valium?'
'Bingo.'
---
Sara handed Grissom a cup of coffee and gestured for him to sit on the couch. His mere presence in her apartment had helped to stem her fears and calm her down, but it also served to bring up more questions. Questions she didn't know if she was ready to face just yet.
'How are you feeling?' Grissom asked her.
'Better,' she replied, giving him a small smile. 'Although, I guess I can expect plenty more where that came from.'
'I'm afraid so,' Grissom replied sadly. 'It'll take time for you to fully deal with what's happened. The dreams unfortunately come as part of the healing package.'
'I thought I was doing okay,' she told him, looking disappointed. 'I felt really together yesterday. And then, I don't know if it was Elaine coming to see me or what, but…'
'Sara, you didn't give yourself a chance to heal. You just charged in, rushed back to work. You should have taken more time off. I should have made you…'
'Like you've ever been able to make me do anything,' she cut him off with a grin.
'True. You are, by far, the most stubborn woman I've ever met.'
'Don't knock it. I worked long and hard to get this stubborn.'
'I don't believe that for a second. It just comes naturally to you.'
For a moment, they felt completely comfortable, sharing the easy banter they had enjoyed in their early days of working together. But things had changed over the years, and slowly the smile faded from Sara's face. Things were no longer as easy as the once had been and pretending like they were did nothing but confuse her.
'Grissom, what's going on with us?' she finally asked.
This was the reason he had called her in the first place. He had planned to address this very issue, but once more he had been caught up in coming to Sara's rescue.
'I'm not sure, Sara. I'm not even sure if it's something you should be worrying about right now.'
'Look, I'm going through a rough time right now. I know that. I'm trying to deal with it as best I can. But this…' she gestured between the two of them, 'this is just a source of constant confusion. I need to know where I stand. We both do.'
'Sara, I…' as ever, Grissom choked mid-sentence. Why could he find all the right words when talking about the evidence at a crime scene, or when deconstructing the timeline of death using insects, but he could never put into words what he wanted, no, what he needed to say to Sara?
Just then, all thoughts of the right or wrong words went out of his head as his cell phone rang. Letting out a gasp of frustration, he fished in his pocket for it. Sara sighed, and it was then she realised that she'd been holding her breath.
'Grissom,' he barked into the handset. He paused to listen to the person on the other end. 'Okay, good. I'll be at the lab shortly.' He disengaged the call. Looking apologetically at Sara, he sighed. 'I've got to go. We've finally got a viable suspect.'
'I'd better go in too, then,' Sara replied, getting up from the couch and collecting their empty coffee cups.
'Sara,' Grissom shook his head in mild annoyance. 'Didn't you listen to anything I said about taking some more time off?'
'Oh, I listened,' she told him. 'I'm just choosing to ignore you on this matter. And as for the other matter under discussion…'
'Right,' he replied, taking a moment to think. 'Tomorrow night. We're both off. Dinner?'
'Déjà vu,' she replied.
'Not really. This time, I'll actually arrange a time and place with you,' he smiled gently.
'In that case, dinner sounds nice.'
TBC.
