Author's note: Lol, sorry again guys… school, marching band and more school have kept me from posting this. It's been done for awhile now, but I haven't been on my computer for weeks now. So, FINALLY, here it is! I hope you enjoy!!
Dedication: This one goes too my friends Margaret and Jenny, who really picked me up when I was down! I love you guys!!
……….
Phones rang. The click of feet on linoleum echoed against sterile white walls. Nurses in pastel uniforms poked their heads into room after room, before jotting a few notes onto their clipboard and moving on.
But Gil Grissom didn't notice any of it. His attention was focused on the double doors at the end of the hallway that led to the operating room. His body went numb at the thought of a scalpel cutting through Sara's skin. His hands were shaking and sweat collected in beads at his hair line. He didn't care.
Brass glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, tightening his grip on the coffee cup he held. Grissom's crumbling demeanor worried him. Not that Brass himself wasn't already worried about Sara, but Grissom had almost always remained calm in even the most trying situations. But the fear in his eyes was enough to make even the thick-skinned captain cringe. Things were bad enough to worry and that… well, that made him worry.
Brass stood up and stretched his legs. He looked down at the empty coffee cup, and then at Grissom.
"Gil," he said in almost a whisper, "I'm going to get some coffee, you want some?"
Grissom stayed motionless, his eyes still focused on the O.R. doors. Brass set a hand on Grissom's shoulder, but pulled back when Grissom flinched under his touch. Grissom looked up at him, his eyes puffy and red, watery from tears that had yet to fall.
"Huh?"
"Come with me to get some coffee. You need to get out of that chair," said Brass.
Grissom shook his head, "No, I'm going to stay here. What if the doctor came? I… I'm going to stay."
Brass bit his lip, then nodded slowly as he started down the hall. After a few steps, he paused and turned around.
"Gil, she's gonna be alright, you know. And don't beat yourself up… this isn't your fault."
Grissom looked up at Brass again, "Then whose fault is it?"
He held Brass's stare a few seconds longer, then turned back to the doors at the opposite end of the hallway. Brass stood still for a moment, thinking about what Grissom had said before starting, again, towards the cafeteria.
He walked to the elevator slowly, hoping that the more time it took him to get there, the more all this would seem like a dream. He shuffled his feet and twisted the cup in his hands.
Everything was happening so fast. What should have been a routine call to a traffic accident had very quickly become a terrible nightmare. A dear friend was now lying on an O.R. table just barely clinging to life, while another sat just down the hall in as much of a catatonic state.
Brass stopped at the elevator and rubbed his tired eyes. He looked back in the direction of O.R., wondering if maybe he shouldn't go back. He took a step in that direction, but stopped when he heard the elevator ding, and the doors slide open.
"Brass?"
He met Catherine's red eyes. She smiled slightly as she stepped out of the elevator, Warrick, Nick and Greg following closely behind her. They walked into the middle of the hallway and stared at Brass, waiting for him to start. He couldn't seem to find the words.
"Brass, are you going to tell us what happened?" asked Nick impatiently.
"There was an accident… for some reason Sara drifted into the oncoming lane and was almost his by a truck before swerving into her lane. She overcorrected and…," Brass trailed off, allowing the others to fill in the blanks.
"How is she?" asked Greg.
"She's in O.R. She's holding on."
"That girl was always a fighter," said Warrick.
"Still is," said Greg.
The group was silent as they stared at the young lab rat. Each contemplated Greg's last comment. If they knew Sara, they also knew she wouldn't give up.
"Hey Brass… where's Grissom?" asked Warrick, looking around.
"Oh, he's down by O.R. He wouldn't budge," said Brass.
Warrick nodded and the group headed down the hall. They were silent as they walked, each one imagining what they would see when they reached Grissom. Nothing, though, could prepare them for what they saw.
His head rested in his hands, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He seemed to be in silent prayer, all his focus on the words he whispered in his own head. His skin was pale, and sweat glistened in what little of his hairline you could see. Even from where they stood, the team could see Grissom shaking. It was like nothing they had ever seen.
"Gil?" whispered Catherine as she approached him.
He looked up. His face was wet, a sign he had been crying. He wiped at his tears, and stood up.
"Hey, guys. I'm… I'm really glad you're here," he said.
Catherine rested her hand on his shoulder. Grissom looked down at his feet, then back up at her. He gave her a small smile before casting a quick glance at the O.R. doors.
"Grissom, I'm so sorry," Nick said, stepping forward.
Grissom's eyebrow's furrowed, "Why?"
"I let her go, Griss," he whispered.
"What?" asked Grissom, not quite catching on.
"She left the scene early. I let her go. Something was bugging her, I could tell, but I didn't stop her. If I just woulda kept her there… even for a little longer…," Nick trailed off, wiping at the tears that were falling down his cheeks.
"She wasn't heading out to your scene?" asked Brass.
"No… she said that everything would be ok and then she was gone."
"There was something wrong with her… and you let her leave?" Grissom was seething, "Nick, for all we know, she did this on purpose!"
Grissom's face turned red with anger. He took a step towards Nick, but Warrick stepped forward and held him back.
"Hey, Griss, calm down," he said quietly.
"Calm down? Calm down!? How can I calm down when Sara is on the operating table barley clinging to life? She wouldn't be in this situation if…," but Grissom stopped when he heard his name.
"Gil Grissom?"
Grissom turned around and met the eyes of the older gentleman. He wore a scrubs and an apron, both dotted with patches of blood. He held out his hand and Grissom took it in a quick greeting.
"I'm Dr. Peters, I performed the operation on Ms. Sidle."
Grissom's eyes got wide, "How is she?"
The dr. bit his lip and nodded his head, "I had anticipated that'd be your first question. Mr. Grissom… everyone… why don't you sit down. I have a lot to explain."
TBC…
Dedication: This one goes too my friends Margaret and Jenny, who really picked me up when I was down! I love you guys!!
……….
Phones rang. The click of feet on linoleum echoed against sterile white walls. Nurses in pastel uniforms poked their heads into room after room, before jotting a few notes onto their clipboard and moving on.
But Gil Grissom didn't notice any of it. His attention was focused on the double doors at the end of the hallway that led to the operating room. His body went numb at the thought of a scalpel cutting through Sara's skin. His hands were shaking and sweat collected in beads at his hair line. He didn't care.
Brass glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, tightening his grip on the coffee cup he held. Grissom's crumbling demeanor worried him. Not that Brass himself wasn't already worried about Sara, but Grissom had almost always remained calm in even the most trying situations. But the fear in his eyes was enough to make even the thick-skinned captain cringe. Things were bad enough to worry and that… well, that made him worry.
Brass stood up and stretched his legs. He looked down at the empty coffee cup, and then at Grissom.
"Gil," he said in almost a whisper, "I'm going to get some coffee, you want some?"
Grissom stayed motionless, his eyes still focused on the O.R. doors. Brass set a hand on Grissom's shoulder, but pulled back when Grissom flinched under his touch. Grissom looked up at him, his eyes puffy and red, watery from tears that had yet to fall.
"Huh?"
"Come with me to get some coffee. You need to get out of that chair," said Brass.
Grissom shook his head, "No, I'm going to stay here. What if the doctor came? I… I'm going to stay."
Brass bit his lip, then nodded slowly as he started down the hall. After a few steps, he paused and turned around.
"Gil, she's gonna be alright, you know. And don't beat yourself up… this isn't your fault."
Grissom looked up at Brass again, "Then whose fault is it?"
He held Brass's stare a few seconds longer, then turned back to the doors at the opposite end of the hallway. Brass stood still for a moment, thinking about what Grissom had said before starting, again, towards the cafeteria.
He walked to the elevator slowly, hoping that the more time it took him to get there, the more all this would seem like a dream. He shuffled his feet and twisted the cup in his hands.
Everything was happening so fast. What should have been a routine call to a traffic accident had very quickly become a terrible nightmare. A dear friend was now lying on an O.R. table just barely clinging to life, while another sat just down the hall in as much of a catatonic state.
Brass stopped at the elevator and rubbed his tired eyes. He looked back in the direction of O.R., wondering if maybe he shouldn't go back. He took a step in that direction, but stopped when he heard the elevator ding, and the doors slide open.
"Brass?"
He met Catherine's red eyes. She smiled slightly as she stepped out of the elevator, Warrick, Nick and Greg following closely behind her. They walked into the middle of the hallway and stared at Brass, waiting for him to start. He couldn't seem to find the words.
"Brass, are you going to tell us what happened?" asked Nick impatiently.
"There was an accident… for some reason Sara drifted into the oncoming lane and was almost his by a truck before swerving into her lane. She overcorrected and…," Brass trailed off, allowing the others to fill in the blanks.
"How is she?" asked Greg.
"She's in O.R. She's holding on."
"That girl was always a fighter," said Warrick.
"Still is," said Greg.
The group was silent as they stared at the young lab rat. Each contemplated Greg's last comment. If they knew Sara, they also knew she wouldn't give up.
"Hey Brass… where's Grissom?" asked Warrick, looking around.
"Oh, he's down by O.R. He wouldn't budge," said Brass.
Warrick nodded and the group headed down the hall. They were silent as they walked, each one imagining what they would see when they reached Grissom. Nothing, though, could prepare them for what they saw.
His head rested in his hands, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He seemed to be in silent prayer, all his focus on the words he whispered in his own head. His skin was pale, and sweat glistened in what little of his hairline you could see. Even from where they stood, the team could see Grissom shaking. It was like nothing they had ever seen.
"Gil?" whispered Catherine as she approached him.
He looked up. His face was wet, a sign he had been crying. He wiped at his tears, and stood up.
"Hey, guys. I'm… I'm really glad you're here," he said.
Catherine rested her hand on his shoulder. Grissom looked down at his feet, then back up at her. He gave her a small smile before casting a quick glance at the O.R. doors.
"Grissom, I'm so sorry," Nick said, stepping forward.
Grissom's eyebrow's furrowed, "Why?"
"I let her go, Griss," he whispered.
"What?" asked Grissom, not quite catching on.
"She left the scene early. I let her go. Something was bugging her, I could tell, but I didn't stop her. If I just woulda kept her there… even for a little longer…," Nick trailed off, wiping at the tears that were falling down his cheeks.
"She wasn't heading out to your scene?" asked Brass.
"No… she said that everything would be ok and then she was gone."
"There was something wrong with her… and you let her leave?" Grissom was seething, "Nick, for all we know, she did this on purpose!"
Grissom's face turned red with anger. He took a step towards Nick, but Warrick stepped forward and held him back.
"Hey, Griss, calm down," he said quietly.
"Calm down? Calm down!? How can I calm down when Sara is on the operating table barley clinging to life? She wouldn't be in this situation if…," but Grissom stopped when he heard his name.
"Gil Grissom?"
Grissom turned around and met the eyes of the older gentleman. He wore a scrubs and an apron, both dotted with patches of blood. He held out his hand and Grissom took it in a quick greeting.
"I'm Dr. Peters, I performed the operation on Ms. Sidle."
Grissom's eyes got wide, "How is she?"
The dr. bit his lip and nodded his head, "I had anticipated that'd be your first question. Mr. Grissom… everyone… why don't you sit down. I have a lot to explain."
TBC…