Chapter 53

Bruise

Gil couldn't face what had happened that morning, and by the early afternoon, it had begun to consume him completely, driving him into an abyss of depression and guilt. There had only ever been one time he'd felt so bad, and it was when he'd been working on the Debbie Marlin case.

He paced frantically around the house, trying to burn up the nervous energy that kept building up from this anger he felt with himself. To try and keep himself occupied, he moved from room to room, rearranging furniture that normally he preferred to be left in it's certain place. He felt like a timebomb that might go off if he stopped for one second to ask himself what was going on.

Despite his best attempts, his mind wouldn't leave the subject alone of this morning alone. He kept picturing the bruises on Sara's wrists, and inadvertantly comparing those bruises to what he'd seen on the number of victims he'd seen through the years.

It was something his mind just couldn't leave alone now. Not only had he hurt Sara unintentionally but he was beginning to lose any trust he had for himself. There were men like him who were just as normal, and painfully shy who one day just lost it completely to go too far – which was the reason some of those bruised victims he'd seen had ended up on a slab in the morgue.

Gil hated how his mind kept running away from him with visions of what might happen if he should go too far. Disturbing images ran through his head of situations he was afraid might happen, even when his mind was logically telling him there was no way it ever would.

He knew he was overreacting. It occurred to him more than once. Sara wasn't mad. How could she be mad when she'd woken up looking so incredibly happy – her smile the widest he'd ever seen? Why would she sit behind him and help him through a severe anxiety attack if she was angry he'd left a bruise on her wrist?

She isn't mad at me. I'm mad at me, he thought. I'm finding all these things out about myself, like I can be so much more different than I thought I was, and while I'm finding me I'm not liking all that I find, he thought. He was pacing across his living room looking for something to move, something to shift, something to focus his attention on.

The phone rang, and he chose not to answer it. He didn't care if it was work, he didn't care if it was Catherine, and if it was Sara, he wasn't sure he could speak to her just yet. He wasn't sure he was emotionally ready to deal with hearing her voice, telling him it was okay when his heart was telling him it wasn't.

After the sixth ring, the answering machine picked up.

"Hey, you've reached the phone of Gil Grissom, leave a message after the beep," he heard his own voice announce on the phone. His voice on the message was very monotone, and he sounded almost like a stranger to himself.

The beep came, and then Sara's voice.

"It's me…" she said, "I know you're there…and I know you're probably still freaking. Just pick up…I really need to speak with you…"

He stood, listening to her, swallowing a lump that had grown in his throat.

Sara paused on the line, then spoke again, "Please…just pick up…it's important."

Gil stood facing the wall, staring into space, hearing her words and at the same time not really hearing them at all.

"I think I know why bruising me bothered you…there are two reasons I can think of…" Sara continued, she gave a deep sigh, "I just don't know which reason is true though. One of those reasons…is something I don't even think you knew about, and if you do know…" she trailed off, "god, I don't know. I feel so stupid here sitting on the phone talking to your answering machine…"

Gil turned and stared at the phone blankly, "what don't I know?" he asked the phone, aware of course that Sara on the line wouldn't hear it at all, but feeling much better for speaking out loud as if it was solace just to hear his own voice again.

"We really need to talk, Gil…please…just pick up…"

Gil moved over to the phone, and he reached out to pick it up, but faltered, he just couldn't. He wasn't sure what he might say.

Not getting an answer, Sara seemed intent on continuing to talk until the tape in the machine ran out, "Last night…you know last night was…God, I mean have you any idea how much last night means to me? How much does it mean to you, Gil? Last night, we made a connection, a real connection, and when we woke up, we were so happy. I'm still happy…but I'm scared, because I saw the look on your face and you were scared about something…I just need to know what."

He couldn't stand it anymore. Gil drew his breath and picked up the phone, "Sara…" he said, his voice very shaky, he sat down on the floor by the table, he couldn't find anything to say to her to explain himself.

"Are you okay?" she asked at once.

"I honestly don't know," he responded, he let his back rest against the couch. His emotions were riding a virtual rollercoaster of ups and downs, it felt good to be speaking to her, to be hearing her voice, but at the same time, it felt terribly wrong after the incident this morning.

"What happened, Gil…?" Sara asked, she sounded so incredibly hurt still. It pained him to hear her sound this way.

"I don't know…I still don't know…I know this shouldn't be bothering me but…seeing that bruise…it just…" he trailed off, he tried to finish the sentence but couldn't.

"Reminded you of the victims in the morgue."

"How did you know?" Gil asked, he sucked in a breath.

"Wild guess. We've worked together so long and we've both seen the craziest things…it'd be impossible to not let our jobs seep into our personal life and affect us in some way."

"We wouldn't be human if it didn't affect us," Gil answered back softly.

"So…what's going on in your head right now?" Sara asked. "Tell me and I'll do my best to make it go away."
"You can't," Gil said, "this is something I have to deal with myself."

"No, you can't deal with this alone anymore. We're together, we have to deal with things together. We're a support system, we're here for each other. Just like being in the team at work, if we need help, we look to each other…so look to me, Gil. Tell me what's going on?"

"Since being with you…there's been things I've done…that I haven't meant to do…impulsive things…things I'd have never ever though to do in a million years. Kissing you so hard in the car that first time…pushing you up against the wall in the restaurant hallway and kissing you…things I never meant to do but did…"

"You're afraid…that if you could bruise me accidentally, you could get much more…I don't know…violent accidentally too?"

"I don't know…"

"You haven't got it in you to be violent," Sara responded.

"Yes I have," Gil answered quickly, "there's been times I've very nearly lost my head on cases…times I've wanted to swing for Ecklie…times I've wanted to strangle suspects…"

"But you didn't. You don't think I want to kick Ecklie in the balls every time I see him?" Sara asked.

Gil found himself laughing just a little at her comment, although even his own laugh felt extremely hollow.

"But I don't," Sara continued, "being rough in bed and being violent are two different things entirely," she assured.

"Sara…I had to ask myself this morning…several times over…what if you were scared…what if you just couldn't defend yourself last night…" he admitted.

"Gil, as scary as this is going to sound to you, I am quite capable of kicking your ass if you went too far. I could have so easily kneed you in the groin hard enough to make you let go of me."

Gil winced at the thought.

"And for the record, I was far from scared last night," she added quite assertively, "when you pinned me down, you have no idea how far from scared I was."

"Sara, am I being stupid?" Gil asked quietly, he stared at the floor absently.

"Yes," Sara answered, "because you're making a big deal out of nothing…" she paused for a moment. "Believe me, if it bothered me, you'd know about it. I'd let you know about it, and I wouldn't let you forget it."

"Okay…" he said quietly.

"Answer your door."

"Huh?" Gil asked in confusion.

Gil heard a sharp knock at the door, and he absurdly had to ask himself if Sara were psychic. He got up and crossed the room, slipped into the hallway and opened the door to find Sara standing there with her cellular phone to her ear, looking at him with those serious brown eyes of hers.

He was still holding his own phone, and he switched it off absently without even looking at it just as she stepped forward to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. He was surprised by this, and impressed by how incredibly sneaky she'd been to be standing at his door whilst calling him. No wonder she'd known he was home, his car was parked right outside. He couldn't have been anywhere else.

Her lips left his after a deep and passionate kiss, she smirked just a little, "you okay now?" she asked.

Gil moved back from her a little to look at her, her hair was in soft waves framing her face and caressing her neck, she was wearing a long sleeved shirt over brown corduroy pants. He reached over, and gently he took her hand and slid her sleeve up to reveal the bruise, he raised her arm and kissed the bruise tenderly, "I'm so sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be sorry," Sara used that same hand to pat his cheek reassuringly, then she smirked, "just stop being an idiot."

Gil scoffed, "yeah, like that's going to happen any time soon. What's that old saying…oh yeah. Easier said than done."

Yeah, yet another blah chapter, but I'm having another bout of insomnia and this kept playing out in my mind while I was trying to sleeplike it was screaming to be written. I just want to point out, when Sara mentioned something she didn't think Gil knew about, that won' t be dropped, it's just momentarily pushed asside for a later chapter. (More angst probably coming eventually).

Thanks to the reviewers and I'm going to mention you all in the next chapter...

I know, I'm meant to be taking a break here, but I have to write while things are still fresh in my mind.Anyways...keep reviewing. It's the only thing I think I live for at the moment.

SS