Chapter 92

Gil's Story

The shift felt like it would go on forever and it began more and more of a challenge to stay awake when the minutes felt as if they were hours and the hours felt like days.

Gil couldn't deal with his paperwork, sitting behind the desk gave him too much of a temptation to momentarily shut his eyes. He knew if he should close his eyes even for a moment he'd fall asleep.

Despite his efforts, the events from earlier that afternoon replayed over and over in his mind. His disappointment with Sara and to hear of her drinking again still cut him like a knife.

God, why does this bother me so much? He thought sadly, he was in the garage at work searching a car for evidence for a case Nick was working on. Moving around and trying to keep his mind occupied with the task at hand seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him awake.

You know why this is bothering you, Gil. On some level, you've always known, Gil stared at himself in the rear view mirror of the car he was sitting in, he had his hand in the glove compartment, but he hadn't found any evidence so far. Staring into his own eyes, a floodgate of memories came forth, an onslaught he wasn't prepared for. He had to shut his eyes and try to push the thoughts out of his mind.

He forced himself to keep busy until halfway through the shift, the craving for caffeine got bad. He glanced at his watch seeing that – thankfully – it was time for his one hour break, and he headed towards the breakroom.

He found Sara in there already, sitting quietly eating a sandwich. She looked as exhausted as he did.

They said nothing to each other as he entered and made his way over to the percolator. Saying nothing, just as they hadn't after the incident in the shower and on the drive to work. The only time they had spoken to each other throughout the shift had been when he'd handed her an assignment. Despite Sara's effort to 'make up' with him earlier that day, he didn't feel any the less disappointed with her, and somehow still couldn't really look her in the eye.

Can't ignore her – or this – forever, Gil. Talk to her.

As he poured his coffee, Sara was the first to speak.

"You want half of this?"

He turned to see she was gesturing to half of an egg and watercress sandwich.

Gil gave a silent sigh, "thanks, but I'm not hungry," he said quietly.

"Oh," Sara replied. He watched her over his shoulder, she took another bite and stared down at the table.

He wanted to walk away and go straight to his office and see if he could deal with the paperwork that continued to mount up no matter how much of it he cleared. Somehow, he couldn't force himself to walk away. He sighed again, and took a seat beside her at the table, placing his coffee cup down in front of him, "do…you want to talk?" he asked softly.

Sara glanced towards the door to make sure it was closed, and yet, her response was uneasy all the same, "I thought you said personal matters shouldn't be discussed at work."

"You know me and breaking rules," he teased, but he couldn't smile no matter how hard he tried to. "So…" he began, "what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on," Sara tucked her hair behind her ear. She picked a piece of watercress from between the slices of bread and put it to her mouth.

Gil propped his elbow on the table and let his cheek rest in his hand. He tried to focus on Sara rather than the exhaustion he could feel trying to drag him under. "Is it true, what your brother said?"

Sara looked away, "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, although the look of guilt that darkened her face said she was lying.

"You're still drinking."

Sara frowned a little and put down her sandwich, she wiped her hands off on a napkin. She made no attempts to explain herself or deny the accusation. Gil wished she had denied it, he wished more than anything that her brother had lied. Sara's lack of response told him that Andrew had been right on the money.

Gil shook his head at her, "god, Sara…we talked this over…we've had this conversation..."

"Yes, you're right, we have. And I don't want to hear it again. I made a mistake, end of story."

"How many mistakes? How many times did you hit the bottle when we weren't together? More than once? Twice?" he looked at her in desperation, "Sara, I need to know."

"I don't know, I wasn't counting, jesus, can we just drop this? I have enough problems as it is. I have my brother mad at me because of you."

"Your brother is mad at you because you lied," Gil shot, "just like you lied to me when you told me you'd seek help. Remember the deal we made? You'd stop drinking, you'd get help, and I'd open up…"

Sara frowned, "and have you opened up?" she retorted coldly.

Gil sucked in a shaky breath, "I can't keep my end of the bargain if you don't keep yours, Sara. That's how this works. You show me I can trust you, and I'll trust you."

"No, Grissom," Sara stood up, "you need to show me I can trust you first."

He stood slowly, "you're saying you don't trust me?"

"I'm saying I don't know you."

"Lets not start this again," he sighed. The exhaustion was settling in more and more now at the prospect of having to repeat a conversation he felt he'd had with Sara far too many times.

"You started this. You brought it up. You want me to get help, tell me what I want to know, give me reasons, Grissom."

"It's Grissom, is it now? What happened to 'baby'?" Gil raised an eyebrow.

"Is that an attempt to change the subject?" Sara shot angrily. Her eyes darkened, and she pursed her lips together tightly.

"No."

"Then tell me something, Grissom. Tell me something I don't know."

Gil hesitated, "I still want to marry you."

Sara sighed and looked away from him, shaking her head in some kind of disgust. She seemed to feel the whole conversation was nothing but a lost cause, and Gil himself was beginning to feel concern it just might be.

"Sara, I want a future with you…" he swallowed, "but if you don't stop drinking, I just can't see it happening. Every time I find out you've been drinking, that image of you and me ten years from now seems to just…float further and further away…" he looked at her sadly.

Sara's eyes glistened for a moment, and he could see his words were starting to sink in and affect her.

Damn it, stop keeping the cards close to the chest and tell her about it. Tell her what she needs to hear so she'll understand why you feel so strongly about this whole thing, he thought at himself.

"Sara…have I told you about my father?"

It seemed to surprise her somewhat, this question. Gil wondered if it had even occurred to Sara that he'd had a father once.

"No…" Sara finally responded, "you've…never really mentioned him at all…" she added, sounding slightly uneasy.

"Okay. Lets talk about my father," Gil sighed, "He was…a complete and utter asshole unworthy of my mother. I was lucky if I saw him three months out of a year. He was always away on business. But let me tell you, the three months a year he was at home, he made our lives a living hell. On the rare occasions when he did come home after a long business trip, sometimes I barely even recognized him."

"Oh…" Sara swallowed.

"And he was an alcoholic, Sara."

Sara blinked, "what?"

"He was an alcoholic," Gil tried to make it sound as if he just didn't care but having to relive the whole thing tore him up inside so much he wasn't sure he wanted to continue telling her what he needed to.

Sara couldn't' say anything, she simply stared at Gil in utter astonishment.

"He'd get drunk, emotionally abuse my mother. He'd destroy furniture in a rage – he never lashed out as us, but I think it wasn't far from crossing that line. I had toy soldiers once, he broke them all with his bare hands. He ripped my books up once when he was mad at me for some dumb reason I don't even remember. He shut me and my mother out of his life for the most part. Locked me in a closet once when I spilled milk on the kitchen floor."

Sara's mouth fell open.

"It's weird how much you remember from your childhood…" Gil sighed. "I remember every stupid thing he did the year that I was five…"

The room felt suddenly very cold, and the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of a clock on the wall.

Gil forced himself to continue, "He'd ignore us most of the time when he was sober…barely acknowledged our existence. But when he was drunk…god, the tiniest thing ticked him off…" he stammered the words out, "at age five I remember clearly one day he came home from a business trip completely hammered. Said he couldn't deal with her handicap, said he couldn't connect. I must have been pretty smart then because I can remember every damn thing he said to her…"

Sara dropped down into her chair, looking at him with wide eyes, almost as if she were scared for him.

"He said he couldn't take her eccentricities – and hated that I was becoming like her…" Gil looked to the floor. It was strange how the memories came flooding back after forty-five years of having forced them into the back of his mind where he'd never wanted to think of them again. "So he walked out. Left us both. And I've spent the last forty five years pretending like it never happened."

Sara swallowed, "he abused you both…"

"Only emotionally. I suppose we got out lucky. It could have gotten a lot worse…way worse."

"You hated him."

"With a passion, Sara. I've never hated anyone that much…" he sighed. "And…I saw my mother devastated after he left. She never loved anyone else…and so…she threw herself into her work, and reading, and learning new things…"

Sara swallowed, "and…that's why you do the same…"

Gil shrugged, "I didn't know any better. Who else's example did I have to follow?" he gave a bleak smile.

There was a momentary silence between them.

Gil finally broke that silence when he felt Sara was ready to hear what he had to say, "People transform when they get addicted to alcohol. They change over time…and if you changed, and I lost you…like I lost my father…"

"You'd be devastated?" Sara asked, her voice was trembling.

"I'd kill myself." He sighed. The words sounded so dramatic, but in some strange way even though he hadn't thought it out, he knew the words were true. He nervously reached over and took both her hands, not caring anymore if anyone should walk in at that moment or happen to look through the windows from the hall.

"Don't say that…" Sara blinked, there were tears in her eyes that broke free and trickled down her cheeks, tainted by her mascara.

"It's true," he looked at her, "You just don't get it, do you? I've gone through so many changes this last four months, Sara…" he swallowed back the raw emotion. "I don't think I could go back to being who I was. I don't want to."

Sara sniffled, "I don't understand why you didn't tell me this stuff before..." she sighed, "You had a father who was abusive…emotionally, or otherwise. I would have understood. I'm the one person who would have understood…"

"I never told anyone, Sara. Forty-five years I've been trying to forget and force into the back of my mind, and I'd actually fooled myself into thinking I had forgotten until today…until I found out you'd been drinking again. I had to ask myself why it bothered me…"

"And it all came back to you…" Sara whispered. "Just like…when I'm on a domestic abuse case and…"

"It all comes back to you," Gil nodded, looking down, "and it hurts…" his voice trembled, "your drinking hurts me. It hurts me because you're hurting yourself."

Sara let go of his hands, and took his face in her hands, making sure he'd look right into her eyes when she spoke. "Okay…" Sara sighed. "If it really bothers you this much…" she brushed her thumb against his cheek and he felt something wet under her fingertips. It was then he realized somehow without even having known about it, he'd shed a tear. "If it hurts you…" she gave him a sad smile, "I'll get help. I'll stop. I swear to god, Gil, this time I'll do it."

It wasn't the first time she'd said she'd get help, and he wasn't sure why this time he believed her when she'd already made the promise before and never kept to it. And yet, something in her voice, something in her eyes, had convinced him this time was different. He'd gotten through to her more than he'd thought he would.

He moved away from her, realizing how stupid he must have looked. This had been the third time he'd shed a tear in her presence – only two of which she knew of. Somehow in the back of his mind he'd pushed away all thoughts of how exposed they had been sitting together in the breakroom. He hadn't realized how intimate her gesture was until he realized there were others outside who had seen it.

Judy from the reception desk had seen them, David Hodges had seen them, and anyone else who'd been passing had seen them. He realized this as he saw Hodges and Judy ducking away quickly when they realized he saw them looking.

Gil and Sara looked at each other with much concern, and knew it wouldn't be long before the word got out. They'd gone too far this time…

They'd crossed the line.

Pretty blah chapter, I know...only 8 chapters to go...(story ends at 100, just letting you know ahead of time, lol). Look for me and Wishing on the Moon's new story under the penname "Sunrays and Moonbeams" if you want something to read in the meantime. It'll be under the title "Inadmissible Evidence" :)

Thanks to the following people for reviewing:

Mystical Panther, SarahMakinson, leddy, princesspink, UnspokenLoves, csi girl, Almeida's-Angel24, Veronica, jtbwriter, CSIfreak92, berta101, ManipJunkie, MiraclesFan22, silence89, princessklutz04, Aidrianna, wandaa, csmit99, svcmc, Juwist,

I think that's everyone, hope I didn't forget anyone.