AN: So, I've been binging the show lately and, naturally, grumbling about the lack of GSR in the last few seasons. And as it usually does, my brain then runs away with different scenarios… I have a couple more in the works, we'll see if they end up getting finished or not. This one's just something that got stuck in my head after watching "Split Decisions", so AU from somewhere during that episode. It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, just the first interaction between Sara and Brass, but then, like fics have a tendency to, it… evolved beyond me, and here we are

Title from "As I'm leaving" by David Gray

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine

To the soul of everything

"Hey, Sara, hold up."

She slows down at the voice behind her, lets Brass catch up. "Did you need something?"

He doesn't respond, just wraps a hand gently around her elbow, guiding her around a corner and through the door to his office, closing it behind him.

"Are you OK?" he asks when they're as private as they can get at the precinct, and she feels the automatic smile she's mastered over the years slide into place.

"Fine, yeah."

His eyes narrow a little. "Because I know you're good at talking to suspects and victims, relating to them, but that back there? It felt a little too personal."

She swallows down the lump his words create and shrugs, turning away from his piercing look. She can't say anything, because she knows if she does, everything will come out.

"So, you and Gil, you've been… trying?"

Sara snorts. "No, definitely not."

"And was that a mutual decision?"

"It's hard to raise a child when you're on different continents," she says, voice flat.

"Is that what he said?" Brass asks gently, tilting his head to study her, like she's some specimen under a microscope. She feels almost transparent under his gaze, like he can see through her skin and into her soul.

"It's not like he's wrong," she replies. "But…"

"But there's an easy solution to that particular problem."

"You'd think."

She does try not to begrudge Gil this time away. She knows what it's like to have to get out, after all. But after almost three years of long distance, she's… tired.

"And that's… all of it?"

She knows she can say yes. Even though he probably won't believe her, he might still let her get away with it. At least for the moment.

"Accidents happen," she says instead, letting him read what he wants into her words.

"And I take it one did?"

"Yeah."

"Gil didn't take it well?"

Sara shakes her head. "You know, sometimes I forget how perceptive you really are."

"Me and your husband go way back," he reminds her. "I'd like to think I know him pretty well by now, so yeah, I can imagine how well that conversation went. I assume he said something stupid?"

"In a nutshell, that it was my decision in the end, but I should consider whether a child really was a good idea at this point," she recaps.

"Jesus Christ, Gil." Brass runs a hand over his face. "Do I need to fly down there and knock some sense into him? Where is he these days anyway?"

Despite her overall mood, Sara can't help but smile at the outburst. "No need to cross international borders on my account," she assures him.

"Yeah, well, I might anyway." He smiles. "So, forget him for a moment. How are you feeling about all of this? Excited?"

It takes her a second to realize that he thinks she's still pregnant, and the pain slams into her all over again. "No, I'm not…" She squeezes her eyes closed, takes a shaking breath. "It didn't…"

"Oh, honey." The gentleness in his voice is almost too much, and when she feels his hands around one of hers, a few tears escape. "I'm so sorry."

She just nods, focusing on trying to breathe right, and he holds her hand, thumb rubbing against the back of it, as she regains some control.

"Sorry," she apologizes when she's finally able to open her eyes and meet his again.

"Stop it," he tells her firmly. "Don't you dare apologize."

She almost apologizes for apologizing, but catches herself at the last minute. "Force of habit, I guess," she says with a half-smile.

"Well, you know you never need to be polite with me," he assures her, patting her hand one last time before releasing it. "And you know I'm here if you need to talk."

"I know, thank you. It actually does feel a little better, having talked about it with someone."

He frowns. "You and Gil don't talk about it?"

"He's, uh… been away from the research station for the last week, out in the rainforest somewhere," she explains. "No way to reach him, so he doesn't actually know, not about… that part. He wasn't sure how long he'd be gone, you never know what the weather's going to be like out there, but he usually calls when he gets back."

"When did this happen?"

"Monday."

"Jesus, Sara, why didn't you call?" he asks bewildered.

"Nothing you could have done," she replies with a shrug.

"I could have been there. You shouldn't have had to go through that alone."

It's such a simple statement, yet it eases some of the strain in her chest.

"I should have called."

"You should have. And I think you should talk to Nick and Greg, too. If I realize something's wrong, you know they will. And they'll worry."

He's right, of course, but even the thought of it turns her stomach into tight knots.

"I don't know if I can say it out loud," she admits. "I mean, I didn't even say it now, you just figured it out."

"You want me to talk to them?" he asks, and she lets out a relieved breath. Maybe it's taking the easy way out, but she honestly doesn't care. She's earned taking the easy way out.

"Would you?"

"Of course. And I'll tell D.B. you're off for the rest of the week." He raises a hand when she opens her mouth. "Don't argue. I know it's not your strong suit, but for once, please, go home, get some rest, and try to take care of yourself, OK?"

Her natural instinct is still to argue, of course. She's been pulling doubles the last couple of days to avoid having to think about it, not going home until she's so exhausted she falls asleep as soon as she stumbles into bed. But she also knows that she's going to have to work through it eventually, to not get stuck in a vicious circle. She even knows, from experience, that if she puts it off, it'll only get worse.

"OK," she agrees instead, seeing the flash of concern in Brass' eyes at her quick surrender.

"Good girl. You OK to drive or you need a ride?"

"I'm OK, but thank you."

"Then I'll see you tonight. You still like those dumpling things from the Chinese place near your house, right?"

Sara fixes him with a stern look. "You do not need to bring me dinner. I can feed myself."

"Yeah, I think we both know that's a lie."

She considers arguing but doesn't really have the energy. And it's not like he's wrong – if she's on her own, dinner will most likely be toast, if she bothers eating at all. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

"Nope," he replies with a smile.

"Then I guess I'll see you tonight."

The air conditioning feels like heaven when Grissom opens the door to his living quarters at the research station. Seven days in the rain forest means his entire pack goes straight into the hamper, and then he opens his laptop to let it boot up while he takes a shower.

By the time he's scrubbed off a week's worth of sweat and grime he feels more or less human again. He grabs his phone before sitting down at the desk, powering it on as he clicks to open his email. He wants to call Sara right away, but she might have emailed while he was gone.

There's nothing from her, but the message at the top, sent only half an hour ago, catches his attention.

He and Jim have talked on and off since he left Vegas. He'll email when he comes across something he thinks his friend will find interesting, and Jim returns the favor when he's working a particularly gruesome case.

This message, however, has the subject line "CALL ME" in all caps, followed by three exclamation points, but when he opens the message itself, it's empty.

Worry seeps into his mind and he realizes his hands are shaking as he finds the number he needs.

"That was fast," Jim says when he answers. "I wasn't sure if it would take a couple of days or weeks."

"What happened, Jim? Is Sara OK?"

"Relax." His voice is calm, and Grissom feels the panic fade. "She's fine… ish."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Physically, she's fine." He pauses. "Emotionally, that's another story. You really messed up, my friend, you know that, right?"

He sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "She told you?"

"We had a case that hit a little close to home, I made a semi-educated guess, she filled me in on the rest."

"I panicked," he admits. "I was going to call her as soon as I got back, apologize and try to explain… maybe grovel a little. But your email derailed me, so thank you for that."

"It's probably good you called me first," Jim says with a sigh, and the panic starts creeping back.

"Jim…"

"She lost the baby, Gil."

Something cold settles in his stomach, twisting and turning into ragged pieces of steel, then burning white hot, and he's suddenly glad he hasn't had time to grab anything to eat yet.

"What? When?"

"Monday, apparently. Don't worry, I already gave her an earful for not calling anyone."

He doesn't know what to say, can't form words. The scientist in him knows that there's nothing he could have done, even if he'd been there, but that doesn't assuage the guilt in any way. He'd already been feeling bad about his reaction to the news, but now… How could he say that to her? Why didn't he just tell her they'd figure it out? That he would be there, whatever she needed from him?

If it hadn't been for the planned expedition, he would have called her within hours, when he got his head back on straight, but by that time, he'd been miles into the rain forest.

"Gil?"

Jim's voice brings him back to the present and he realizes they're still on the phone.

"Yeah, I'm… I'm here."

"I don't really have any idea what you're doing down there in the jungle, but if there's any way you can get away, I think you should. She'll never say it, you know that as well as I do, but she needs you right now."

He's already clicking into a travel site, entering the requested data. There's a flight at nine, but even if he leaves now, he won't make that – the road into the capital is little more than a dirt track, taking at least six hours on a good day, and considering the personnel at the research station are among the few who use it, you never know what you might find along the way. The first flight in the morning will have to do, even though it feels like an eternity away.

"Can you pick me up at the airport?" he asks. "I'll send you the info as soon as I'm sure I can make the flight, hopefully I'm getting in late afternoon tomorrow."

"Good, send it over when you can. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was just about to go pick up food and make sure your wife eats. I managed to convince her to take today and tomorrow off, but I do not trust her to feed herself."

"Thank you. For being there for her."

"Just get here."

The call disconnects, and he jumps into action, closing the laptop again and stuffing it in a bag along with whatever else he'll need during the flight. He has clothes at home, so he doesn't bother with any, and within ten minutes, he's on his way to the main office to find the head of the station.

"Gil, you're back," Doctor Daniel Emerson greets him. "How was the expedition?"

For a moment, the words are completely foreign, the recent expedition the furthest thing from his mind. "It was… it seems strange to say fine. Definite confirmation of another mass grave, this one looks smaller than the last one, at an initial estimation. I left my notes with Amelia for logging," he finally says. "But I actually need to leave. Now. There's been an emergency back home, I've booked a flight out of Lima in the morning."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the other man says with a frown. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I know you need the jeeps, so I was hoping someone would be able to drive me," he replies.

"So, you're expecting to be gone for a while?"

"I honestly don't know."

Emerson gives him a scrutinizing look. "Are you planning on coming back at all?"

"Right now, I don't know that either."

He's made the trek through the jungle into the capital more times than he can count by now, but the drive has never felt longer, even though the only obstacle they come across is a herd of sheep that quickly scurries out of the way. He makes it to the airport with several hours to spare, though, thanking Juan before the young man heads back. When he's gotten through security, he makes himself eat a slightly stale slice of pizza before setting an alarm for ten minutes before boarding starts and finding a somewhat secluded corner to at least try to get a couple of hours of sleep.

He won't be any good running on fumes.

He manages to doze off for about two hours, jerking awake when the speakers announce a flight to Buenos Aires. It's still forty-five minutes before his own flight will start boarding, and for a moment, he considers calling Sara, but he still doesn't know what to say to her. He will, he knows, when she's in front of him, when he can touch her and make sure she really is OK. He's always been better with words when she's with him.

He thinks she would have called herself, if Jim told her he was back, so he assumes he hasn't, and in that case, what's another twelve hours? She might even be asleep, and he wouldn't want to disturb her if that's the case.

Even though it feels like the trip will never end, he does finally arrive in Las Vegas, and when he sees Jim waiting for him, it feels like he can finally breathe again.

"How is she?" he asks, before even saying hello.

"Good to see you too," Jim replies with a smirk. "She was fine when I left last night, ate more than I expected, said she was going to catch up on old forensic journals. Nick's been there most of the day, he hasn't sent out an SOS, so I assume he has everything under control."

Grissom feels an almost overwhelming gratitude for the man in front of him and the rest of their friends.

"Thank you. And it is good to see you, I just wish it was under different circumstances."

"Story of my life. Come on, let's go."

He knows the city hasn't changed much since he was last here, about six months ago, but there's something about Vegas that makes it feel like it's ever changing. The sun is setting by the time Jim stops in front of the house, and he looks up at the windows reflecting the sky that's turning different shades of pink and purple.

"Call if you need anything, OK?" Jim says quietly next to him, and he nods.

"Thanks again, Jim."

"Just make sure you take care of her, and we'll call it even."

He tries to be quiet coming in, but of course, Hank hears the door and comes barging down the stairs, barking excitedly when he spots him. Nick's in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher, and he turns with a smile. "Hey, boss."

Grissom drops his bag inside the door and crouches down to let Hank welcome him home. "I'm not your boss, Nick. Haven't been for quite some time."

"Old habits."

He nods in understanding as he straightens up again and glances towards the stairs, but there's no sound coming from the second floor. "Is she asleep?"

"I think so, I haven't heard anything." Nick grimaces. "Listen, man, I'm sorry…"

He swallows down a lump. "Thank you."

Nick nods. "But if you're here, I'll get out of your hair. Brass said the fridge was pretty empty, so I picked up some stuff on the way, should be enough for a few days, but just call if you need anything. Anytime, OK?"

"Thank you, Nick."

The younger man claps him on the shoulder as he passes on the way to the door. "Good to have you back, despite the circumstances."

Barking wakes her, followed by claws against the hardwood floors as Hank hurries downstairs. Sara considers going after him, he probably needs to go outside, but then she hears Nick's voice and rolls over instead. He said he'd help with whatever she needed, that should cover letting the dog out to do his business.

She's dozing off as she hears steps on the stairs, but forces her eyes open when the bedroom door opens further.

"Hey."

She frowns at the voice, blinking to make sure she's not hallucinating, but he's still there when she opens her eyes.

"Are you real?" she still has to ask, and he lets out a low chuckle as he steps into the room.

"I doubt I look good enough to pass for a dream after travelling for almost a day."

He sits down on the bed next to her, and it's not until he pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers dry and warm against her skin, that she lets herself believe it's really him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got back to the station yesterday afternoon and found an email from Jim telling me to call him," he explains. "I got the first flight I could."

"You didn't have to do that," she tells him, even though just having him near her is making her mind quiet down for the first time in days.

"Of course I did. I should have been here and I wasn't, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry…" He trails off, squeezing his eyes closed and taking a couple of shaky breaths, and she realizes he's close to tears.

"I thought you'd be relieved," she admits, voice small, and his eyes snap open again.

"No, God… I know my reaction was… less than ideal, and I'm sorry. I just… I needed some time to wrap my mind around all of it, can you understand that?"

Of course she can. She'd been shocked herself, and she'd had a feeling for almost a week before actually taking the test. She'd even been prepared for his shock, but somehow it had still caught her off guard.

"I know it's easy to say, but I was going to call when I got back yesterday," he continues. "Have a proper conversation. But then I saw Jim's email, and, well… I almost called from the airport, but I thought you might be asleep, and I figured I'd be here soon."

"I do understand," she assures him. "I do know you, I was expecting… some panic. I just, I didn't think you'd suggest…"

He groans. "I can't believe I said that. I didn't mean it, honey, please don't think that."

She knows it's easy to say now, when it's not an issue anymore. But she's learned to read him pretty well over the last few years, and she does believe him.

"You look tired," she notes, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair, and he sighs. "Did you sleep at all since yesterday?"

"A couple of hours in a corner of the airport," he admits, eyes sliding closed as she rubs his scalp.

"OK, then, bed it is." She scoots back to make room for him, and he pulls off his shirt and pants before sliding between the sheets, reaching for her when he's settled. She comes willingly, draping herself half on top of him.

He sighs, arm sliding around her. "I've missed this."

"Me too. I'm glad you're here."

It takes Grissom a moment to realize where he is when he wakes up, but then Sara shifts next to him and he remembers.

She's turned away from him since they fell asleep, knees pulled to her chest and arms wrapped around them even now. It's a familiar position he hasn't seen her in for a long time, not since the early days when old nightmares made infrequent reappearances. And then again, after Natalie.

He moves closer quietly, hoping not to wake her, until he's pressed against her back. He pulls her hair away from her neck and shoulder so he can bury his face against her skin and wraps an arm tightly around her. Immediately, she lets out a long beath and he feels some of the tension leave her body.

What is he doing halfway around the world? This is where he needs to be.

She sleeps on for a while, and he drifts in and out, but eventually, nature calls and he slides out of bed carefully.

When he emerges from the bathroom, Sara's sitting up in bed, looking half-asleep still.

"I thought it was a dream for a second there," she says, voice still sleep heavy.

"Sorry," he apologizes, leaning against the doorframe and watching her for a moment. He's always loved seeing her just after she wakes up, when she's still unguarded and soft.

She shakes her head and puts on a smile. "So how long do I get you this time?"

"As long as you want me."

To his surprise, she looks away at his words. "Please don't say that, you can't…"

"Hey." He crosses the room, sinking onto his knees by the side of the bed, and takes her hands in his. "Look at me. I mean it. I wasn't here when you needed me, and I'll probably never forgive myself for that. So yes, I'm here for as long as you want me to be. I told Dan I didn't know if I was coming back."

She just stares at him for a long moment.

"You can't just leave," she finally says. "Can you?"

"Who's going to stop me?"

"Your contract? You have another four months left, and weren't they talking about another site after that? You said it yourself, this work… you're a part of history."

"I don't care about history. The present is more important. You're more important."

"You're serious," she realizes, and he nods. "I feel like I should try to talk you out of it, but I don't want to."

"So don't."

"I don't want you to resent me."

He frowns. "What?"

"I don't want you to wake up in a year or five years or ten and realize you missed out on your dream because of me," she expands. "I would rather just have you some of the time than risk that."

The idea is so absurd that he has to hold back a laugh. "I know I can't promise what the future will bring, but I can promise that that will never happen."

"You can't actually do that," she points out.

"I can. Honey, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – that you could do that would make me resent you. Before I showed up on your doorstep all those years ago, I knew that if we did this, I would love you for the rest of my life. And I will."

Tears form in her eyes as he speaks, and he reaches up to catch one that escapes with his thumb.

"OK," she agrees. "I won't argue. But I do think you should finish the last four months."

"If you agree to take at least a month off – and I know you still have plenty of time saved up – and come down," he counters and she smiles.

"Deal."

He pulls her in for a kiss before standing up. "Back to bed or food?" he asks and she considers.

"When was the last time you ate?"

He has to think for a moment and glances at the clock on the bedside table before responding – just after midnight, they've been asleep for about five hours. "There was some kind of dinner on the flight from Lima, though I can't actually remember what it was, so… sixteen hours ago, maybe. You?"

"Nick made lunch around two, so not as long as you," she says, stretching a little. "So food, and then back to bed?"

"Perfect."

He orders her to the kitchen table when they get downstairs, and she sits sipping hot chocolate with Hank's head in her lap as he gets the ingredients for pancakes ready.

He does let her set the table while he finishes the last ones, though, and then they meet at the table with pancakes and syrup.

She didn't think she was particularly hungry, but the first bite makes her stomach growl and she quickly finishes the whole pancake. Looking up, she just catches the pleased smile on Grissom's face before he focuses on his own pancake, and they eat in silence for a while.

"Did you, um… see your OB?" he then asks, and she freezes with the fork halfway to her mouth.

"No, I… I made an appointment for tomorrow, or later today, I guess, to get… confirmation," she starts. "I should call to cancel when they open."

"Maybe we should still go," he suggests. "Just to make sure everything's OK?"

It's probably a good idea, she realizes. She has no idea what you're supposed to do in a situation like this, and talking to a doctor is probably smart. She hasn't experienced any symptoms since Monday, but there could still be something that needs to be done.

So she nods. "Yeah, let's do that."

"Thank you," he says, looking away from her to focus on the plate in front of him, pushing the last few pancake pieces around. She waits, knowing there's more coming. "And maybe we could talk about… options."

She feels her heart rate pick up at the implication in his words. "Options?" she still repeats, asking him to actually say it so she doesn't have to.

He puts down the fork before looking up at her, and she realizes that he's really nervous. "I've had a lot of time to think," he starts. "The week in the jungle, and then the six hours to Lima, and twelve hours in the air. If you don't want to do this, I understand completely, and we don't have to. But… if you're open to it, I would… I'd like to give it a try."

For a long moment, all she can do is stare at him. They've never talked about kids. Never. She assumed he wasn't interested and, the few times she thought about it, figured he assumed the same about her.

And she wasn't. She hasn't thought about kids for years, never really wanted them, not in any concrete way. Not with her family history.

But then those two lines had appeared on the test, and her entire world had shifted.

And then it shifted again.

But to actively, knowingly, try to get pregnant… that's something completely different.

Grissom's stopped talking and is looking at her expectantly, and she realizes she has to say something.

"I…" she starts, clearing her throat when it comes out shaky. "I think I need to think about it a little."

He nods. "Of course. And I understand if you don't want to risk this happening again, but there are other ways. Surrogacy, adoption, fostering…"

"You really did think about this."

"They say you don't know what you have until you lose it," he muses, mouth turning up in a half-smile. "But I also think that, sometimes, you don't know what you want until it's actually a possibility."

It's pretty much what she's been feeling but hasn't been able to put into word.

"So you want to do this?"

"I really do," he replies without hesitation.

She nods slowly, the uncertain voice in her mind instantly calmed by his confidence. "OK, so… let's do it."