Chapter 70

Broken Down

The funeral was the hardest thing Gil had ever had to face in his life. Throughout the whole day he'd been moving through it all like a man in a daze, like a lifeless zombie. His eyes puffy and red but never allowing himself to cry.

Even though he had not taken the time to look around him, he could tell that his family were studying him, much in the same way he knew the members of his team did whenever he was acting particularly uncharacteristic. Only this time, it wasn't that he was uncharacteristic at all, it was that they were waiting for him to do something – to break down.

No, I am not going to break down and give these bastards the satisfaction, he thought. He'd been standing at the edge of his mothers grave when he'd thought this. He'd looked around to see the family members who'd all been talking about him behind his back so much over the past three days. They all averted their gazes, pretended to be so nonchalant about this that it annoyed Gil.

He found himself wondering if Sara would ever understand why he didn't talk about his family. The family who'd always seen him as an outcast – apart from his uncle Herb who'd always treated him like a son.

After the funeral immediately was the reading of the will. How at least half of his family managed to get into the small lawyers office he didn't know. He sat quietly, listening, not surprised at any of the things in his mothers will. Various moneys were allocated to family members, and to him, the most of the assets along with the house and a small piece of land she'd owned.

I don't want any of it, he thought. I'd give it all away right now to anyone who wanted it if that would bring my mother back right now.

He decided that when he got back, he'd look into donating to various charities. His mother would have liked that, he decided. He'd rather have someone who really needed it benefit rather than take the money for himself. It would probably lay in a bank account and never be claimed otherwise. He had no intentions of touching that money himself.

The reception took place inside of his mothers house, and he was so overwhelmed with the memories that came every time he walked into a room that he had to keep going outside for fresh air to try and recover.

Outside, the sun was setting, casting pink and orange light on the trees lining the driveway. Gil sat on the front steps of the porch. Inside the house he could hear the faint voices of his family talking to each other, their voices sifting through the open door and dissipating into the early evening.

He stared down at the ground, noticing a lonely ant scurrying it's way across the step. It reminded him of childhood, how he'd sit and watch ants through a magnifying glass on this very porch. He'd sit out there fascinated, so fascinated he didn't even hear his mother calling him for dinner.

Gil would have given anything to be able to go back in time right then, and hear his mother call him for dinner just one more time. Just remembering was enough to make his heart sink in his chest, he heaved a heavy sigh that made his lungs feel as if they might have caved in.

He let his elbows rest on his knees and placed his head in his hands, the dull throbbing of a headache surfacing once again. Closing his eyes for a few moments helped, he tried to block out the sounds all around him, and concentrate on making the pain go away.

Tears threatened to erupt, and he forced himself to hold back, which only increased the intensity of the headache now. He felt the drag of despair pulling him down into a dark abyss of depression that he wasn't sure he would ever be able to pull himself back out of.

Something touched his hair, and it startled him completely that he let out a small gasp and flinched away. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Sara Sidle standing there, looking at him with her sad brown eyes, the sunlight bathed her in hues of gold and pink.

"Sara…" he found himself saying. She almost seemed like a mirage in his time of need, a vision. He was glad to see her and yet, he wasn't.

"Catherine came to see me…said she was worried…said you called her, and sounded like you were on the verge of…breaking down."

"Oh…" Gil said, he looked away.

"She was so worried she told me where you were…I had to do my own investigative work to trace you…" she explained, "I couldn't stay away…I was worried too…" she touched his hair again.

Gil wanted to be angry, he wanted to be furious, but somehow couldn't quite find it within himself.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Sara asked softly. "Didn't you think I'd understand?"

"I didn't want to upset you. You…had your own problem to deal with," he confessed tenderly.

"Who cares about my problem?" Sara responded, "this…this is more important."

Gil looked away from her, he felt terrible. Guilty, mostly, but betrayed by Catherine that she could have gone and told Sara about his mother dying. And then there was the anger he wanted to feel, but couldn't. The mix of emotion was what finally was starting to break him down.

Sara took a seat beside him on the porch steps, she took his hand, twining her long slim fingers with his. "I just…I just wish you'd told me…instead of just bottling it all up…"

Gil looked down at their hands, he brushed his thumb against the top of her hand, and then turned around to look at her. "look…I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I do trust you with this, I just…I didn't want to add my problems onto yours…"

"It's okay…I understand," Sara said, "it…was a selfless act."

"Are you mad?" he asked softly, he looked at her guiltily.

"I…want to be mad…but…I don't know, right now I don't even feel a tiny bit mad…just…disappointed…"

"I never meant to disappoint you," he said softly, "I was just doing what I thought was best…"

They were both silent for a moment, it was Sara who spoke again.

"Beautiful sunset."

Gil turned back to stare at the sunset, "I must have watched this sun set a thousand times when I was a kid. Used to be fascinated by the shadows the trees would make on the ground as the sun disappeared behind them."

Sara squeezed his hand again, she rest her head on his shoulder, staring at the sunset with him.

Gil felt a strange peace in him that he'd been missing for the last four days without her company. She couldn't make everything all better, but her presence eased the pain in ways he knew painkillers, alcohol or even never would.

Then to his astonishment, he began speaking, began to open up in ways he'd never thought he'd be able to. "My family…don't really understand me…I've never fit in with them…" he explained, "they're treating me like some outsider, whispering behind my back when they think I can't hear…" he added. "They think I'm weird. Think I'm a freak. It's like high school all over again – except I'm actually related to these people."

"That's why you didn't want me asking about them…" Sara realised.

He shrugged, "most of them are barely strangers related by the thinnest blood," he sucked in a deep breath, "and they'll remain that way. Only reason they're here is to see what my mother left them in her will…

"They don't see how wonderful you are," Sara said.

"No, I'm not wonderful. I abandoned my mother here, I didn't come to see her for three years. I'm what they deem a terrible son."

Sara had no answer for this, or if she did she never let him know about it. Even if she had disagreed with this, Gil would have never wanted to hear it. He knew in his heart what was wrong. Even her words wouldn't have been able to convince him otherwise.

After a few more moments of silence, Gil finally gave a sigh of defeat, and he stood, "come on…there's tea and coffee inside."

Sara stood with him, still holding onto his hand. Gil led her into the house, quite aware of the glances everyone was throwing in their direction.

Sara gazed all around the rooms of the house as they passed the countless mourning relatives. She pretended to be more interesting in the antique furniture and old fashioned wallpaper rather than the peculiar glances they were giving her.

Gil stepped into the kitchen, Sara's hand still in his own, his Uncle Herb was in the process of making tea, he looked over his shoulder to see who had entered.

"Gil, where've you been?" Herb asked, "haven't seen you anywhere in the house," he added

"I was out on the porch, getting some air."" Gil replied, he pulled Sara forward a little, "Herb, this is Sara," he let go of Sara's hand so that she might shake Herb's hand in meeting.

Herb reached out his hand with a warm smile, "pleased to meet you," he said kindly, he shook her one hand in both of his gnarled old hands.

Gil looked at Sara, wondering what her reaction might have been. She was the first woman he'd ever let meet any of his family since dating in high school, he found himself observing. Sara didn't seem uncomfortable at all, which surprised him somewhat.

Gil spoke up, realizing he'd been silent for too long, "Sara is one my team back in Las Vegas."

"Ah, a criminalist," Herb grinned.

Sara just smiled, "not as good as Grissom," she gestured to Gil.

Gil wondered why she'd called him by his surname in front of his uncle, it was probably something even his uncle wouldn't have been familiar with. Then Gil realised that although he'd introduced her to his uncle, he had not introduced her as his girlfriend. Sara had picked up on that immediately, and immediately gone into the same secrecy mode she might have before the team had found out about her dating Gil.

Timidly – slightly uncomfortable about it by being in the same room as a member of his family – he slipped his arm around Sara's shoulders. "She's also the woman I'm in love with," Gil admitted very sheepishly.

Herb's eyes widened just a little, "ohhhh," he then said, and his grin became even wider, "well, that's certainly a surprise. I don't think, uh, you've ever brought a woman to meet the family before."

"Guess I was just waiting for the right woman," Gil said, he turned to look at Sara. She was beaming from ear to ear. He wished he could smile too, but he was still too emotional from everything over the last few days that smiling would seem only empty and wasted.

"It's a shame your mother couldn't have been here," Herb sighed, "she'd have loved to meet Sara."

"I know," Gil glanced down to the floor, "she wanted me to get married – have kids. All the things parents want from their children."

"Parents also want success for their children, Gil. And you are successful, you're smart, you're funny, and you're honest."

Gil sighed, "I just…feel like a terrible disappointment…"

"When we move away from our mothers and fathers, we have to live true to ourselves. We can't live their lives, we have to live our own," Herb replied, "you've lived your life as you felt was true to you. Your mother was proud of you no matter what you did."

Gil felt the tears brim his eyes and he closed his eyes, forcing them away.

Don't you dare cry, Gil, don't you dare. Not in front of Sara, not in front of Uncle Herb. Don't you dare break down like a child.

"Gil?" Sara asked softly.

"I'm okay, give me a minute…" he kept his eyes closed, he put his hand in front of them, he took in deep even breaths.

"No…no you're not, you're shaking," Sara touched his arm.

His body was defying him, he was indeed shaking. First the sob came without his consent, and then the follow of more. He felt Sara's arms slide around him, and he became pathetic and small, sobbing on her shoulder.

Gil Grissom had finally broken down.

Yeah, I know, OOC cops will all beon my ass screaming "bitch bitch bitch" in my ear whilst battering me with asps. It just felt right writing it. At this stage, I felt I was making Gil too "unfeeling", so I had to ahve some point where he was just going to break down sooner or later anyway.

Thanks to the following people for reviewing :)

Aidrianna, kristy87, saskia2, lilegyptiangoddess, svcmc, Mystical Panther, csibugman, Hope, vsky, djkittycat.

svcmc: again, I said it was OOC, and I can't do much more than say "yeah, it was OOC", but it's a story and only that. And like I said in previous statements, if it was totally in character, there'd be no story, because Gil and Sara would never have gotten together anyway, lol.

djkittycat: I'm sorry if I can't make every character seem educated as perhaps all the other science and grammer whizzes out there who write GSR do. Me myself, I'm not educated very well, considering I spent most of my school years being beaten to a pulp - I avoided school like the plague - therefore, bad education.(Price to pay for not having my head slammed against a brick wall, or being locked in the janitors cupboard witha guy 3 years older who can pin me down).Thanks for just making me feel very inadequate and reminding me of what a fucking idiot I am. ( I really don't hear it enough from my parents).

Some people seem to be intent on pointing out that only people with English degrees, a complete knowledge in biology, physics, literature, and the legal system in the US are the only people "entitled" to write CSI fanfic. I thought fanfiction was more free than that. Makes me so sad that people get on fanfic authors backs for suchlittle things to the point where it makes the writers not want to write anymore.

SS