Disclaimer:I own nothing... : (
AN: a little story I wrote...I hope you like it : ) english is not my first language, and I am somehow very unsure about m yuse of grammar this time (don't know why)...you've been warned.
by the time I figured it out
Grissom sat down on the sofa, stretching out his legs, leaning back. The only sound in the cold living room was created by his breathing. He glanced around the room, the walls were almost empty. Years ago he used to have butterflies in frames on them, but they started to annoy him. Just like almost everything had started to annoy him.
He searched for his glasses. They weren't on the little table in front of the sofa, so he stood up, letting out a loud sigh. It wasn't that loud actually, but in the emptiness of the room its echo created an atmosphere that is usually only created in dead, empty rooms.
He walked over to the old commode, hoping he might have put his glasses on top of it. His hands slipped over the old wood. He opened one of the drawers, he hadn't done so for a while.
He had forgotten what he had locked in them. Or better said, he had locked away the memories - that the things in them, made him remember - to forget.
On top of all the stuff was a small box made of wood. He opened it softly.
He reached into the box, softly touching one of the photographs in it.
He felt tears rising up in his eyes, when he thought of the woman he had loved more than anything else in the world.
The picture had been taken at the annual LVPD New Year party. She had worn a long, dark red dress, her hair had been pinned up, some curled strands of hair had been fallen into her face.
When he closed his eyes he could hear her laughing. He could hear her speaking, in that way she had always spoken to him, when she had hoped, wished, that he would do the next step, that he would push that thing between them to something higher than friendship.
He could see her turning around with that bright smile all over her face, when he had said hello to the whole group. 'Hey Grissom.' …she had spoken with the sweetest voice ever.
His heart bet as fast as it had back then. He could feel the urge to kiss her, the urge to twine his arms around her, the urge to hold her all over the night, rising up in him again.
He caressed her cheeks on the picture with his thumb. He knew she couldn't feel it, he knew she would never feel it and he knew she would never know how much she meant to him.
His attention was drawn to a white card with two red roses on it. He swallowed hard. Remembering the moment when she had given it to him. How often had she knocked on the doorframe of his office, entering with a bright smile…this time her smile had been even brighter, the thing that hurt him the most, was that she had neither been smiling because of nor for him.
He opened the card, reading the text…realizing that he still knew it off by heart. How often had he read it? How often had he prayed for it to be a mistake, a joke, a nightmare that he would awake from soon…
The moment in that he realized that it had not been a nightmare, had been the one in that the Reverend had told Nick that he was now allowed to kiss the bride…Sara. HIS Sara. The pain in his heart had shown Grissom that this couldn't be a nightmare. The pain of his breaking heart had been real, must have been real.
Pictures of Sara in her wedding dress ran through his mind. How beautiful she had looked, how beautiful her smile had been, how beautiful the sun had been shining…and when dusk came Grissom had felt that for him dawn would never come.
A thought ran through his mind. He wanted to push it away, told himself what a foolish idea this was, that it would be another big mistake, that it would be the second worst mistake of his life. But he couldn't help it.
He searched for his phone and dialed a number.
"Directory Assistance, hello, my name is Tina, how can I help you?"
"Hi…I need the telephone number of a family Stokes…living in Henderson."
"One second please…there's only a Nick Stokes listed."
"That's the one I mean."
"I'll connect you."
"Thanks.", he felt his heart beating faster when he heard the dial tone.
"Stokes."
"Nick?"
"Yes…who's there?"
"Gil Grissom."
"Grissom? Hey man! How are you?"
"I'm good…I…"
"…we haven't heard of you for years! That's such an surprise! Are you in town?"
"No…I just…"
"Such a surprise! Hell we missed you! You can't imagine! The lab has never been the same since you're gone."
"…could I speak to Sara please?"
He could hear Nick clearing his throat. "You don't know it, do you?"
His heart sank to his feet. What had happened? Did something happened to her? "What…", he couldn't speak, it felt as if there was a big knot in his throat. His whole body was shaking.
"…I don't know where she is. Probably she's back in Frisco or I don't know where."
So she's alive! Though he knew now that his worst nightmare – Sara in pain, Sara in coma, Sara dead – had not become true, he was still shaking. His hands were shaking that strong that it was hard to hold the telephone receiver.
"We got divorced 3 years ago. Maybe you ask Greg. The two of them spoke a couple of times after she had left Vegas."
Grissom cleared his throat. "Thanks…and…I'm sorry Nick."
"You're not."
It hit him like a bolt. Nick must know about his feelings for Sara. Sure he did. Probably everybody did! He had left Las Vegas three weeks after Nick and Sara's wedding, without really saying goodbye to anyone of them.
Nick hang up without saying anything else.
Grissom swallowed hard. What should he do now? Should he really call Greg? Greg? The young man probably hadn't changed at all, and then he would have to listen to Greg's hours long stories and would have to ask thirty times after Sara before Greg would maybe think about answering his question.
Once again he dialed the number of the directory assistance.
"Directory Assistance, hello, my name is Tina, how can I help you?"
"Hi…I am searching for the telephone number of a Sara Sidle."
"Living where?"
"San Francisco."
"One second please…there is no Sara Sidle listed in San Francisco."
"Can you search for whole California?"
"We're not the FBI, Mister."
He sighed. "Then, …Los Angeles."
He heard the woman typing on her keyboard. He prayed for her to find something.
"No, sorry."
He sighed. "Okay, thank you.", he hang up.
Probably it's just meant to be like that. I am meant to be alone for the rest of my life, I would probably only destroy everything she built up…it was wrong to even think I could reach something with talking to her!
He put the wedding invitation and the photo back into the box, put the box back into the drawer and closed it. Locking it away once again.
He knew he wouldn't be able to lock away one thought. I destroyed my whole life with denying how much she meant to me!
By the time I figured it out I was too late.
THE END (might be continued though)
okay...I hoped you liked it at least a bit. Maybe I'll write a sequel...maybe from Sara's POV then or...well don't know yet.