Chapter 73

Shot Down

He couldn't believe it. Shot down just when he'd thought his life couldn't get any worse. The very first time he'd felt close enough to a woman – in love – enough to propose…and there he was, rejected.

Everything from then on felt strained, and he found it hard to look at her without feeling terribly hurt. How could she say no? Hadn't she wanted the future with him? Hadn't she talked about it before?

When they arrived at his house, there was a note on the fridge from Catherine advising she'd fed the 'pets', and that Gil should call her. Gil avoided making that phone call. He picked the note off of the fridge, and crumpled it up.

Gil stepped through his house, feeling the rooms were somewhat much bigger, much emptier, and he couldn't explain why.

"I…uh…I'll go get my stuff together," Sara said quietly.

Gil looked at her, "you're going home?" he asked.

First she rejects my proposal, and now she's abandoning me? Oh god, I really have ruined this entire relationship, he thought in anguish.

"I think right now, y'know….it's best. I left a pile of laundry to do at my house…I need to clean the house…check my mail," she explained. She stood in the middle of the room shifting from foot to feet, she had an uncomfortable look on her face.

Gil tried not to be hurt by her words. He knew what she was saying. She was really saying that right now she found it awkward being near him, after he'd proposed to her on the plane and quite obviously taken it badly that she'd declined.

"Oh," was all Gil could manage.

Sara disappeared into the bedroom, and Gil stood in the kitchen, the crumpled note still in his fist.

He swore mentally to himself.

Maybe I killed the romance for her when I proposed on the plane. Maybe I should have done it by candlelight with champagne and roses.

Gil tossed the piece of paper away into the garbage, and he made his way to the bedroom. Sara was stuffing her clothes into the bag of clothes she'd brought with her six days ago. She was bent over the bag so that the back of her top raised to reveal the small of her back. Gil felt the urge to touch her skin, and reached out to let his fingers brush against her.

It startled her, she squealed and jumped, spinning around, "oh…Jesus, you scared me!"

"How'd I scare you?" he asked.

"You have a tarantula in this room," Sara reminded, "it felt like something crawling on my back…" she put her hand to her chest. "I thought…maybe it had got loose and…well, y'know…" she made a face.

He smiled emptily, "do you have to go?"
She sighed, "Well…yes…I mean…I can't stay here forever…"

Gil sat down on the edge of the bed, he noted with some surprise she'd made the bed and what surprised him more was she'd made it in the way he liked it. So completely neat with the pillows on top of the blankets.

"Why?"

"Because I can't," Sara shrugged, "I have my apartment, you have your house…" she reminded. "Two separate homes."

Why does it have to be that way? He wondered. Maybe I'm looking at this all wrong. Maybe I was trying to run before I even learned to walk. Maybe marriage isn't the commitment she was looking for…but maybe I can salvage this somehow.

"Does it have to be that way?"

Sara raised her eyebrow, "I don't follow…" she admitted.

"Does it have to be that way?" he asked of her again, this time a little more boldly. "Instead of two homes…why not one home?"

"What, you think we should live together?" Sara gave a nervous laugh.

"Yes."

Sara was speechless for several moments, then she threw up her hands in frustration, "you're unbelievable. One minute you're scared of making commitment, the next you're talking about marriage and living together…this is just a little too much to take right now."

"I'm sorry." He sighed, "Being back home in Santa Monica has changed my whole perspective," he admitted. "Things I've heard, things that were said to me…made me realise how…my life isn't really going anywhere, Sara. I'm working, but working towards what?"

"You've never needed goals before, Gil," Sara stuffed a pair of jeans into her bag. "You've always been the kind of guy who lives for today…you never think about what's coming tomorrow."

"This isn't about goals, Sara. It's about what I want."
"You don't want marriage. You want to be normal in your family's eyes. And trust me, getting married to me isn't going to do that," Sara sighed.

"Do you love me?" Gil asked suddenly, he was suddenly very aware it felt like forever since he'd heard her say the words.

"Yes."

"Tell me," he pleaded.

I have to hear her say it, he thought. If she doesn't say it, then I know I've messed everything up beyond repair.

Sara gave a defeated sigh and she moved over to him, standing before him, "I love you. More than you'll ever get. I've loved you for what felt like forever. Still feels like forever. I will love you forever."

"Then why not marry me!" he burst.

"Because I know it isn't what you want," Sara reached out and stroked her hair.

Gil wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her, his cheek against her stomach, tears began to brim his eyes once again.

"You're grieving, Gil. Your emotions are going on a virtual rollercoaster ride. Up and down, left and right, you don't know which way is which anymore…" she let go of him and knelt down before him. "All this goes away eventually – for the most part – but in the meantime, making any huge decisions is a no-no. By the time you get off the ride, things start looking completely different…" she explained.

Gil sucked in a breath, he felt the overwhelming urge to sob, but held back on it, "this is so unlike me…" he promised.

"I know that. I knew it the minute you asked me to marry you on the plane. Which is why I said no," Sara admitted, "it's not because I don't love you enough…it's just what I know is right and that when you asked you weren't thinking clearly," she chewed her lip. "Trust me, when the rain clears in your head, you'll see that too."

Gil swallowed back the emotion, "Sara…I have to go to work tonight…" he decided to suddenly change the subject. It made him feel better, began to chase the need to cry away.

"No, you're not going anywhere," Sara said, "You go to work, you'll crack under the strain…Cath can handle it a few more days. You need to deal with your own problems before you deal with work."

Gil looked at her through his glassy blue eyes, "I need to, Sara. I'll crack under the strain if I'm here…I'll crack because if I can't work I don't have anything to distract me from feeling this way…"

"And you think being around death and destruction at work is going to make you feel better?" Sara demanded, "Gil, distracting yourself from this will only make you feel worse in the end, believe me, I know."

Gil looked at her, he felt as if he'd had this conversation with her before, only maybe it had been the other way around.

"I've been distracting myself away from my problem my whole life…and it only seems to get worse every time I do," Sara admitted. "You told me I couldn't keep running from it, couldn't keep hiding from it. That I had to deal with it…admit I have a problem," she reminded. "Now it's your turn, Gil, you have to admit you have a problem, and then you can start dealing with it too."

"This isn't a problem. It's a fact of life," Gil said, "death is a fact of life. There's nothing I can do – I can't bring my mother back. Another fact of life, I can't take back what happened on the plane. Instead, I can only try to stop thinking about it until the pain goes away."

"It won't go away," Sara said, "it'll ease, but it's not going to go away. No amount of throwing yourself into work is going to make it go away. And if you think it will, you're only fooling yourself."

Gil felt very much like he'd switched roles with her, a very strange feeling indeed, but it had been something he'd found happening every now and then since he and Sara had grown close. He realised it shouldn't have surprised him anymore, and yet, it did.

"Sara…if I have to think about it, I'll crack…being here…being where I spend all my time thinking…it's going to make it worse…I just need to get out of here…I need distraction…not a permanent distraction, just…I can't explain it, I need to work…it'll make me feel better."

Sara sighed, "If you want to go to work, I can't stop you…and you know that."

"I know," Gil said, "I'd just really like your approval."

"You don't need my approval," Sara folded her arms stubbornly.

"No, but I'd like it nonetheless," he stood up slowly, "I'll stay for half the shift, deal with the mounds of paperwork that have probably piled up by now…and then...I'll be back…"

Sara paused, "just paperwork? No autopsy? No bug analysis on dead bodies out in the desert? No scientific experiments in the lab? No field work under the line of fire?" Sara asked suspiciously.

"Just paperwork," he assured, he was touched she would assume any of those other things might cause him more stress than he could handle. He on the other hand felt any of those things would be the very thing he needed to relieve the stress he was feeling at the moment.

"Fine, then you have my approval," Sara said, defeated at last.

"Great," Gil smiled, "I'll call Cath and tell her I'll be in tonight."

"You're not going to go nuts at Catherine because she told me about your mother are you?" Sara asked cautiously.

"Me…and Catherine will have words," he admitted, his tone indifferent, "whether I'll go mad or not, I'm not sure. I'll only know when I see her."

Might seem blah, I was sort of drunk when I wrote this but I've kind of sobered up a bit now enough to think it makes enough sense to post...ah, I dunno...

Thanks to the people who revieweed, and keeep reviewing, as always, I'llmention you all in the next chapter (74)

Note: to the user who listed themselves only as "me". The story will have some resolve in the end. In the meantime, just like others in real life, Gil and Sara will have their ups and downs. Nothing is ever a hundred percent okay all of the time. I have to write it as how I see it for the moment. :)

SS