Author's Note: This is an idea that I've been thinking about for awhile. Let me know if you all think I should continue. -Jac
If he had known that the fairytale would end this way, he might have never opened the book. Granted it that the fairytale had become more of a ten year saga rather than the happily every after he once imagined. As he looked back, he would have given up all this to have it be a million yesterdays ago.
He never dreamt that he would call Las Vegas home. He stands in the airport terminal waiting to go home . . . to get as far away from here as possible.
Nick's POV:
I spent seven of the best years of my life in Las Vegas. I spent two of the most hurtful and hideous years in Las Vegas. The transition from good to bad wasn't slow. It was as dramatic as black and white. I left work one night knowing that the crime lab would never be the same again. That night marked the beginning of two years of utter hell. It marked the first time I really hated my job . . . I really regretted coming to Las Vegas so many years ago.
I idolized Grissom for so many years. It was more of a 'hero worship' than I ever intended it to be. I wanted nothing more than to be as brilliant as Grissom. I wanted to help people the way that Grissom did. I spent so many years trying to aspire to be the man that I put on a pedestal higher than my father and my grandfather. They were the three greatest men that I had ever known, but people have a tendency to fall from high pedestals.
My perception of Grissom didn't change as rapidly as the climate of the lab. I didn't wake up one morning hating Grissom for all that he had done. It was so much slower. It happened so slow that I was able to deny my feelings for weeks, if not months.
I watched the way that Grissom toyed with Sara. I watched Sara try to make herself more and more perfect for Grissom. I watched Sara's perfection drive herself into an alcoholic oblivion. Each time Sara tried to pull herself out, Grissom did something to drive her back into the hole he pushed her into so many years ago.
I watched Grissom carry on with Sophia. I don't know if he ever really loved Sophia, or if it was just a convenient way to get to Sara. I like to think that maybe he did love Sophia . . . maybe Grissom put Sara on a pedestal that was just a little too high. I watched Grissom push Sara away. I watched him confine her to the lab and put Sara on an endless number of suspensions. I watched him yell at her until I could see the tears running down her cheeks. It made me wonder what changed between them. I asked Sara once . . . she refused to answer.
Sara and I had always had a relatively strong friendship. We trained together for the yearly marathon. I had inadvertently taken her out for drinks during the early phases of her alcoholism. I could talk to her; she was the only one of my coworkers that made me feel safe enough to bear all the demons that I carried around with me. I woke up one morning and realized that I loved her. I loved her for what she was and what she wasn't. I loved her so much more than Grissom could ever let himself love her, but she loved him. I watched her love someone that didn't want to have her. I watched it slowly drive her insane.
Grissom had so many opportunities to love and to be loved . . . the forensic anthropologist, Lady Heather, Catherine, Sara, Sophia. I was convinced that there was something wrong with him. I couldn't imagine spending my entire life alone. I couldn't imagine stringing along another person for a lifetime. I watch Grissom's pedestal crumble.
There came a day that Sara ran. She just needed to get away from Grissom and his hold on her. She left the same way that she came. Sara disappeared into the night. She left a letter in my mailbox.
Nick,
I know it's not fair for me to leave like this, but I need to start figuring out who I am. I need to figure out who I am without Grissom. I need to learn that I'm still an okay person even if he doesn't treat me like I am.
You've been a good friend to me. Grissom might have been my reason for coming to Vegas, but I stayed because of you, Warrick, and Greg. Take care of Greg . . . no one else on nights will. Take care of yourself. Maybe someday I'll be ready to come back.
Love,
Sara
I quit my job the next day. I spent a year chasing Sara across the country. I spent nine years waiting for her to come home.