This was a really hard chapter for me to write, so I hope you enjoy
Chapter Two: There I Was
It wasn't supposed to be like this, this was never supposed to happen. Sara could only hold her breath as Grissom climbed the stairs, only stopping to turn when she didn't follow. Her gaze was lost in everything else, too many emotions playing on her face at once.
Swallowing her breath, she didn't even look his way as he ventured back down the stairs, coming to a stop next to her.
"Sara," he said softly, calling her name, waiting for a moment to see if she would acknowledge him. "Can you handle this?"
Sara nodded dully after a moment. Grissom had told her on the way over, and even now she still refused to believe it. People were watching from the sidewalks, many of them residents of the apartment houses. They had been asked to leave, offered a temporary stay for the following hours they would be out of their places. Only a few had gone, the rest had remained, waiting to see what they could.
The yellow tape flickered in the wind, stretched out in front of the apartments, behind the police cars. Several officers already stood on the stairs, the paramedics already leaving the scene. Brass waited for them at the top.
Sara felt as though her feet had turned into led, each step was more difficult to take then the last, one hand holding her case, the other, gripping the railing tightly, as if afraid she was going to fall.
Brass met them with a short nod in exchange for a greeting. "He's inside," he told them quietly, not willing to meet their gaze. He led them inside, Sara only a few steps behind Grissom, fully aware that he was watching her from the corner of his eye.
Everything looked as it had before, when she left only a few short hours before. She came to a stop outside the room, watching as Grissom and Brass went in. Her mind was racing as she willed herself to take the last few steps, coming to rest against the door frame.
Each scene was different, your eye was almost always drawn to the victim, but sometimes the area around it was more catching. Sometimes Sara was drawn to closely to a victim, knowing secretly how they must have felt, something she never had told anyone else. This, however, was different, far different.
Taking a few more steps in, Sara set her case down on the floor, before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She was able to do little else, other than watch him. If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought him asleep.
Reaching over slowly, Sara let her hand fall on his own outstretched fingers, surprised by the iciness, even though she knew deep down that she shouldn't be. Wrapping her fingers around his, she held them in her own, as if trying to warm them back up.
She should have never left. Despite what he had said, Sara could easily see he was not okay. What kind of person was she? Greg was hurting, and he needed someone there for him, and she had just left.
Suddenly she jerked her hand back, afraid and ashamed to be near him. Feeling sick, she found herself back out in the main room, barely aware the Grissom was calling after her. She came to a stop near the front door, one hand pressed against her mouth, muffling the short sobs that came out.
Grissom came up behind her, guiding her by the arm, leading her back to the couch. Hastily she wiped her eyes, though it did little to help, as she was still crying. Shaking her head she avoided his gaze, muttering through her sobs.
"I can't do this," she confessed, her gaze trained on her hands; they were shaking gently.
Grissom was in front of her, taking her hands in his, folding them together. "It's okay," he told her quietly. "I can get someone else if you want."
Quickly, she shook her head. "No, then they would know what happened to him, I promised him that wouldn't happen," she looked up at him, tears still evident in her eyes. "I can, I can do this…just give me a minute," she pleaded.
Grissom nodded, rubbing her hands soothingly. He glanced back up as David made his way out, nodding to them. "He's been dead a little over an hour," he said quietly. "I'll take him when you're done," he added.
Sara squeezed her eyes shut, processing this new information. Just over an hour…if she had left work only an hour before she could have saved him. All the sudden she felt sick again. But she couldn't, she had promised him, and the last thing she was going to do was break that promise. Slowly, she willed the horrible feeling down.
No thoughts, no emotions, she reminded herself.
Opening her eyes was somewhat surprised to find Grissom watching her. Nodding strongly she pushed herself back up into a standing position, aware that the only reason she was standing was because Grissom was helping to support her right then. He waited until the both of them were sure Sara could stand on her own before letting go.
"Let's do this," Sara told him, relived to see him nod as they both walked back into the room.
Word spread quickly, faster than a wildfire in the driest of months. All that was known for certain was that Greg was, in fact dead. No one took the news easily, but the members of the nightshift were sickened, and shocked. Rumors followed shortly after, but none were confirmed or denied.
Sara did well to avoid any uncomfortable situations, after her short episode back at the apartments; Sara had managed to pull herself together, shutting out any emotions that threatened to enter. She had also not stopped working since they had received the call.
In the morgue she found Doc Robbins, glad to find that he had already finished on Greg; she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him like that. His smile was grim, if he had one on at all, leading her over to the counter.
"Hardest case I ever worked," he started out, pausing before continuing, his tone becoming the one she knew so well. "Greg died from heart failure," he told her simply, holding up a hand at her questioning gaze. "His heart was in good condition, healthy, and he had no record of family illnesses. I did find some trace samples," he handed her a small vial as he continued, "you can run them to be certain what it is, but my guess would be some sort of depressant that was mixed with an alcoholic beverage, a deadly combination. It would have been enough to stop his heart."
Sara let out a sigh, staring at the vial she clutched in her hand, nodding solemnly. "We found an empty bottle of sleeping pills and an empty glass next to the bed," she offered up lightly.
Robbins nodded, "Depending on how much he took, it would have killed him in only a few minutes."
She glanced up at him, giving him a small thanks before turning to leave, his words stopping her at the doors. "He was a good kid," he offered up.
Glancing over her shoulder, hand resting on the door, Sara nodded. "Yes, he was."
It wasn't till the next morning that the nightshift gathered together for a small breakfast. No one was all that hungry, so instead they just sipped on coffee, talking among one another quietly. All of them were reacting differently to the incident.
Warrick was shocked; he hadn't known the lab tech all that well. He had known him well enough that Greg was a joker by heart, his jokes light and easy sometimes, while others could be irritating or downright funny, depending on who they were directed at.
Nick, on the other hand, was furious that Grissom wouldn't let him work the case. When he had asked, Grissom had simply told him that he and Sara were already working on it. The Texan wanted to help find the killer, still not willing to believe that Greg had killed himself, even though all the evidence had pointed towards it, and had confirmed it as well.
Catherine was just shocked, dumbfounded when she had heard the news, feeling even worse when she had read it the paper later on. She had gone home that night, wrapping her daughter in a hug, and holding her as she slept, the simple gesture making her feel both safer, and yet guilty at the same time for not being able to save what had been lost.
Grissom was still having a hard time facing the reality of it all. Even working the case, processing his body and the scene, he was almost certain it hadn't quite sunk in yet. His main worry, of course, was on Sara, knowing she was the last one to have been with him.
As far as Sara went, the change was most noticeable in her. No one took it quite too seriously, all of them fully aware she took things more personally then the rest. Only Grissom really knew what was actually tearing her apart inside, and he was afraid she was going to go where no one could reach her if they weren't careful.
"I don't get it," Nick stated, catching Grissom's attention. "Why would Greg just go off and kill himself? It doesn't make any sense."
Catherine agreed lightly, "He was quiet, but he didn't seem upset. Then again, maybe I didn't look close enough."
"People who normally commit suicide, often think about it for quite a while before actually attempting it," Grissom put in, turning away from all their questioning looks.
"So," Nick shrugged his shoulders, "What happened that was so drastic that Greg killed himself then? I can't recall anything."
Sara looked down at the napkin that was folded in her lap, her fingers laced together. She was unaware that Grissom too, had looked away. Everyone else noticed though.
"You know something," Nick stated the obvious. The others nodded in agreement, their eyes shifting from Grissom to Sara, and back again.
Sara glanced up slightly, shaking her head at the same time as Grissom spoke up. "Yes," he said softly, "we do."
Sara turned to him, her voice quiet even though the others could still hear easily enough. "No," she hissed, "You can't say anything."
"Sara, they have the right to know," he answered, his gaze matching hers.
"You can't," she repeated herself, her voice rising now, not caring that the others were watching. "I promised him."
"They care about him too Sara," Grissom argued, but was cut off again by her.
"I promised him that no one else would ever know, you can't take my word back, that's all I have to offer him."
"He wouldn't want this to go on," Grissom sighed, "he needs closure, we all do."
Sara was still shaking her head, starting to cry now. Across from her, Catherine spoke up. "We don't need to know," she stated, even though she desperately did want to.
"Yes," Grissom intervened, "You do. It's not fair to you guys to be shut out," he drew in a deep breath, thinking over in his mind how to phrase it, realizing after a moment there was no better way to say it. "Greg was raped, a few days back." He said it quickly, not even looking to see their expressions.
"I can't believe you," Sara whispered forcefully, leaving the table at the same time in one swift manner. Grissom made a move to go after her, but Nick held up a hand, stopping him.
"I'll go talk to her," he said quietly, feeling guilty he had provoked the conversation to start. Grissom nodded, sitting back down as Nick headed off in the same direction, leaving Grissom to explain the details.
He found Sara outside, fumbling with her purse, trying to pull her keys out, her head down, shielding her eyes from the rain. Cursing as the dropped to the ground, Sara kicked the side of the car before leaning against it, crying softly. When Nick touched her shoulder, she didn't move away, only allowed herself to be pulled in against him.
"You weren't thinking of driving like this, were you?" Nick asked softly, in a feeble attempt to start a conversation, rubbing her back as he held her.
Sara sniffed against his shoulder, turning her head into the rain, the drops mingling with her own tears. "I just want to go home," she said quietly. "This, all of this, it hurts too much."
Nick nodded in understanding, leaning his head on top of hers. "I know," he said calmly, "I know it does. It's supposed to; we want to make it go away, but it only reminds us how much we loved them. Sometimes it goes to show how precious life is, how much someone meant to us, and we don't realize what we've lost until it's gone."
Sara swallowed, pulling away gently as she looked up into his eyes, her hair clinging to the side of her face, the short strands drenched from the water. "But how do you stop feeling guilty?"
"It takes time," Nick stated, "time and talking. You can't shut yourself off; it's too hard to do. We shouldn't forget someone just because they're gone."
Sara shook her head turning away. "That's not what I mean…Nick, I think, I think I killed him."
Nick took a step back, slightly shocked, "Why would you say something like that?"
She shut her eyes, leaning back against the car when Nick let her go. "I made him tell me what happened…I knew that something was wrong and I wouldn't leave him alone until he told me what. I took him home…and I just left him. If I didn't make him talk about it, he probably wouldn't have killed himself…or if I had stayed with him…"
Nick pulled her back into an embrace, telling her differently. "No Sara, you did what you could. You did more than any of us, hell, at least you noticed. No one else thought to take a second glance. You didn't hurt him, you didn't make him suffer. Don't start blaming yourself, you hear?"
Sara nodded dully, biting her lip. "I can't help it though, I can't help feel that he'd still be here if it wasn't for me. What good am I?"
Nick titled her head up, his finger resting under his chin. "Sara, don't start talking like that. This is hard enough, I can't stand losing you too, promise me that?" he wondered.
Sara nodded after a few moments, but Nick still wasn't convinced. Bending down he collected her keys, leading her away from the car. "Come on, you're staying the night with me. We'll get you dried off, have some hot coca and talk, how does that sound?"
She protested slightly, but knew he wasn't going to let up, so instead just gave in. Aside from that factor, Sara didn't exactly want to be alone that night.
TBC