Chapter 2

His tossing and turning woke her, had her creeping slowly towards the couch to wipe his sweaty brow with the edge of the blanket.

"Grissom," Sara whispered softly. "Wake up. You're having a nightmare."

His eyes sprang open and at once she was mesmerized by their color, the usual serene blue now a stormy grey. He looked up at her, absolutely lost, and she cradled his face for a moment. "You're okay. It was just a nightmare."

He sat up, embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

Sara shook her head and then cocked it to the side, studying him. "Were you dreaming about the explosion?"

Grissom flinched and then looked down at his hands. "It's nothing."

"Hey," she said softly, taking a seat next to him on the couch, "it's not nothing. It's okay to still be scared."

"I'm not scared…for me," he told her, still staring at his hands. "Sara, I keep…I keep seeing you there, lying on the street – unconscious, your head bleeding – and I feel…"

"Helpless?"

He looked up at her, wide-eyed. "Yeah."

"I'm okay," she assured him.

"I still worry."

"I really don't think you're in the right line of work if you're a worrier," Sara joked, giving him a nudge in the ribs with her elbow.

Grissom shook his head. "I'm not kidding, Sara."

She bit her lip and tried to think of the next thing to say, wondering if she should just relieve him of his anxiety and explain that she'd be quitting soon anyway, that he wouldn't have to bother being scared she'd get caught in another explosion or be shot during a drug bust, because that chapter of her life was coming to an end right along with her hearing.

It was the perfect opportunity. She could blame her leaving on the explosion without having to bother going into any medical maladies. It was the perfect ruse.

Except he was still a bit too shaken up.

"How about I get you a glass of water?" Sara suggested. "Do you want the takeout I ordered before? It's in the fridge."

Grissom nodded slowly, and as she walked off, quickly rose from the couch. "Let me help you. You should be the one that's taken care of, not the other way around." She opened her mouth to speak, but he immediately cut her off. "Don't say your fine again. Just…let me do this."

And she did.


They sat and ate quietly. Sara kept stealing glances at Grissom through her lashes to gauge whether or not he was ready to hear her news. He looked so cute sitting there at her little table and picking at his noodles with chopsticks. They had never dined together alone in all of her time in Vegas; this was the first. And it saddened Sara to know it was most likely the last.

But it had to be. She'd be of no use to him once she lost her hearing. And she didn't want to stay in Las Vegas and witness the slow death of what was left of their relationship.

"Grissom…I've been thinking about work…" she began.

"You don't have to go back."

"What?" she asked, sucking in a breath.

"Take as much time off as you need. I don't want you rushing back," he clarified.

Sara cleared her throat. "Yeah, about that. I was thinking about not…going back."

Grissom looked up from his noodles. "What-what do you mean?"

"I was thinking about leaving work…permanently."

He put his food down on the table. "Are you serious? Why?"

She could feel her heart beat in her ears, could feel the blood flush her face as she tried to respond coherently. "It's just not working for me anymore."

"How?"

"Everything is different," she told him. "I used to go to work so happy – happy to be there, happy to see everybody. And now…"

"Now what?" he croaked.

Sara stared at him, wondering if what she told him was more truth than excuse. She had meant to tell him that the explosion had fucked her up and she didn't want to go back. He couldn't have argued with that. It was the second explosion she'd experience in Las Vegas, and from the looks of things, he could empathize with that. But the push once again had her over-talking, had her blurting out the contents of her mind without the proper filtering.

Buts she couldn't run this time.

"I'm not happy, Grissom."

"What can I do?" he asked earnestly, absolutely terrified.

She chuckled wearily. "It's not you. It's me. There are…changes happening inside me…"

"Changes?" he asked, drawing his brows together. "Sara, are you going through menopause?"

This time she let out a laugh. "No, Grissom. No menopause. It's just…life is different."

"Let me help you work through these changes," he told her, the pleading in his voice beginning to show. "Whatever they are, I'll be there for you."

Sara felt the tears well up and was surprised at how hard she had to work to keep them from falling.

"Is this about the conversation we had a little while ago?"

She smiled, her vision blurred by her watery eyes. "No. Surprisingly no. Grissom, my life isn't the greatest right now," she admitted, "but believe me when I say that you are one of the bright spots."

He had no answer for her, like always. He gaped at her while trying to figure out how to respond.

"I'm going to go put my dish in the sink," she told him, her voice just above a whisper as she grabbed her plate and scurried into the kitchen. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be calm and cool as she let him know she was done with being a CSI.

TBC...