Chapter 46

Stupid

Gil found the rest of his shift hard to cope with, but somehow he managed to stay professional and get the work done. It was hard staying focused though. He had to remind himself that these kinds of reasons were why he hadn't wanted to get into a relationship. It could distract him from his work.

He really didn't want to care about being distracted at work, but part of it was as involuntary as breathing. It happened, without needing to think about it, it just couldn't be helped.

Gil was glad when the shift ended, he drove home, taking note how dark it was still. It was past six am and the sun should have risen and the sky should have been clear blue by now. Instead, the sky was incredibly grey, and overcast, promising rain. Gil felt very much at one with that sky right at that particular moment. It was exactly how he felt inside, dark, and oppressive, just like those clouds.

He managed to get into his house just before the heavens opened and the downpour came. He stood in the small hallway for some moments, staring out of the open door and watching the rain pelt off the quiet street. It was the heaviest rain he'd seen in Vegas in years.

Perhaps the weather is reflecting my mood, he decided, and with a heavy heart, he closed the door, and slipped into the living room.

The whole room seemed devoid of any colour, as grey as it was outside, the rain on the windows played shadows on the walls. Gil sighed to himself.

I can't believe me and Sara are really over…I can't believe I said I love her and she just…told me to go, he thought. He slumped down onto his couch, and stared at the ceiling. I shouldn't have gone, I should have told her I wouldn't go until she forgave me, until she took me back.

The room was too silent, too eerie in this darkness. The only thing he could hear was the rain outside, and as soothing as it should have seemed, it only made him feel more cold inside.

He got up and switched on the CD player. A CD had been left in from the last time he'd used it, although he couldn't remember when he'd last used it or what he'd been listening to. Whatever it was, it had to be better than sitting in this dreadful silence.

He pressed play, not really caring at all, then turned to take his jacket off and hang it up. He'd barely gotten halfway across the room when the somber strings of the music began to flow through the room.

The classical piece Adagio gripped him inside so fiercely so that he stood there for several moments in the room overwhelmed by the severity of the music.

His emotion, doubled with the intense solemn sound of this particular piece, left him reminded of how incredibly alone he was in his house, with his butterfly collection and his pet tarantula.

As the crescendo of strings grew, the notes became higher and he felt those familiar and unwelcome tugs at his heart again, the physical ache of his hearts yearning.

How am I going to get through another day never being with her the same way again? Gil thought. How can I see her every day and know that I'm never going to hold her again, never kiss her head again, never touch her hair, smell her shampoo, he thought miserably.

He slipped his jacket off and hung it up, giving a deep sigh that left his lungs feeling completely caved. He was almost ready to head for the bedroom when there was a knock at the front door. It was slight, and had almost been inaudible. If his music had been any louder, it might have gone completely unheard.

He switched the CD player off, and then he headed towards the door, apprehensive, although he wasn't sure why. He opened the door slowly, he wasn't prepared for his surprise visitor.

Sara was standing on the stoop, completely soaked from head to toe, her hair hanging in curly tendrils, dripping. Her thin corduroy jacket had completely soaked through, as had her pants.

"Sara…" he swallowed the lump that came in his throat.

Sara looked at him from behind her spiky wet eyelashes, water dripping down her face, she said nothing, she merely shivered, hunching her shoulders against the cold, her hands hid in her sleeves.

"Come in…" he said quickly, "Jesus, it's pouring out there, are you trying to catch pneumonia?"

Sara stepped in slowly, she was so unbelievably soaked, that even her shoes squelched as she followed him into the living room, the water made soft tapping noises as it fell to the tiles on the floor.

"Here…let me take your jacket," Gil said. When Sara said nothing, neither in agreement nor objection, he stood behind her, took a firm hold of the freezing cold wet collar and began to peel it off her. More water fell to the floor, splashing the tiles. "You're soaked through…" he commented, noting how her shirt even clung to her body.

Sara turned to him slowly, she looked as if she was about to speak, but Gil interrupted, he didn't want to spend time talking with her while she was so completely drenched and freezing. She was shivering.

"Come with me…" he said. With her wet jacket still in one hand, he took her by the wrist with the other, not sure if it would be wise to take her hand anymore now that the relationship was over. There was a small utility room in the back of his home where he kept his washer and dryer, he took her here. A basket of clean unfolded and un-ironed laundry had been left on top of the dryer. He'd been so busy since returning from Edinburgh, he'd not found time to deal with it.

"You need to get out of those wet clothes – you'll end up ill," he said as he dropped her jacket on top of the washing machine for the time being. He searched through the basket, grabbing the nearest sweater he could find, and a pair of sweatpants that he only ever wore at home. "These should fit you…pants might be a bit loose…but it's the only thing I have that…would probably fit…" he said, "you know where the bathroom is, you can get changed there…if you bring me your clothes, I'll dry them…as best I can," he rambled.

Sara gave a vague nod, and finally spoke, "okay…"

Gil watched her disappear out of the room. He picked her jacket up, turned it inside out, checked the label to make sure it was machine washable and dryable, and he dropped into the dryer.

The utility room had a small window, and what little light had come through the clouds showed through the rain and struggled to light up the room as best it could.

Sara returned with her wet clothes. She padded barefoot over to him.

Gil took the clothes, "these are all dryable, right? Nothing here is supposed to go to a drycleaners, is it?" he asked.

Sara shook her head.

Gil put the clothes into the dryer to join the jacket and switched it on. "Probably going to be a while before they're dry," he said, "at eighty minutes," he said. He took a moment to survey her in his clothes. He couldn't explain the strange attractiveness it gave her to be standing there wearing his sweater and sweatpants. The sweater – which was thick blue fleece – seemed to drown her, made her seem even more slim than her own clothes did. The pants were slightly too long, and almost covered her bare feet completely, save her cold pink toes.

"C'mon, I'll put the heat on in the living room," he said, he led the way, "is something wrong? Why'd you come here? You should be getting some sleep…"

"I went for a long walk after drinking with Greg," Sara confessed, her voice very slight, "I needed to sober up…"

"Oh," Gil responded, he moved over to the radiator to turn it on, he knelt down because the dial to control the heat was on the very bottom section.

"You know my philosophy. Walking is the best way to clear your head," she moved a damp curl of hair away from her face.

"The last thing you said to me – before your phone rang – it didn't hit me…until about twenty minutes ago…" Sara said, "Because I was drunk…and mad at you…"

This made him stop what he was doing, he raised his head to look at her, silent."You…said you love me…" Sara's bottom lip trembled, "you said you love me and I told you to go…" she looked away, her eyes filling with tears. "I finally get what I want…and then…I just…I push it away…" she swallowed, the tears broke free and slid down her cheeks.

Gil hated to see her cry, but there were the tears, and he stood slowly, he began to cautiously move forward, not sure what he might do once he reached her.

Sara continued, "And then…it hit me…that suddenly I knew what it was like to be you…" she wiped her face with the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing, "at the time I didn't know how to deal with what you said…and so I pushed you away…" her voice came out in strange chokes, thick with emotion. "And that's what you've been doing…pushing me away because you didn't know how to deal with it…" more tears came with this admission, and she took in a shuddering breath.

He approached her, they were standing a foot apart.

"I've…been so…stupid…" Sara put her hand over her eyes, her head falling low, "I've been…so stupid."

"No…" Gil reached out and took her hand away from her eyes, "you haven't…I have. I haven't been open enough. I've been…selfish…the only thing I keep thinking about is how I feel…"

"I have too," Sara said, "I should have been thinking more about you and your position…your feelings…you said you were having trouble with opening up and trying to relax in the relationship and I just didn't…seem to get that…all I could think about was just…that I wanted more…and you just weren't ready for that," Sara looked away from him, she shook her head at herself, another tear escaped. "I'm not good with relationships…I never have been," she admitted, "and I should have understood when you said you weren't."

"Y'know…I don't care anymore who's right and who's wrong. I don't care who's fault all this is, and I don't care how stupid we can get every now and then. It's only human nature…" Gil stepped closer, he put his fingers under her chin and guided her to turn and look back at him, he moved closer still, and kissed the tear from her cheek away. "What I do care about…is getting past this…"

"Me too," she said quietly.

He slipped his arms around her and pulled her to him in a fierce hug, her head pressed against his shoulder, he buried his hand in her damp hair and closed his eyes, grateful to feel her there in his arms once again. "I meant what I said in the bar. Every word of it…I love you," he murmured.

He heard her taking in a shaky breath, as if this caught her by surprise, for he'd said it twice the space of four hours.

For the first time ever, Gil heard her say it back to him. "I love you too."

A big thank you from the bottom of my little fanfiction writing heart to the people who have reviewed: Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc, Miss Amanda, Ambient Flames, luckyladyinlace, wandaa, CSIfreak92, Aidrianna, Erlina Silverstra,Piper135, CSICubsFan, CookieK2, NimrodDuckie, ScullyAsTrinity, princesspink, kristy87, EJ, Solaris-Snape, jbr12476, me, and Hope.

Whoever reviewed as anonymous 'me'. I'm not offended, I'm not deliberately tormenting readers either, lol. I'm just paying homage to the five yearGrissom-Sara-Relationship tease CSI has mindfucked us with over and over with little 'handholds' and tiny 'confessions'. ;) My feelings aren't hurt. My back, however, from sitting up writing this last chapter, definately is.