Author's Notes: This chapter has had a short, but interesting life. It started off very different than how it ended up. And I owe most of the changes I made to my father. Daddy and I are both CSI fans, but where I watch for the relationships, he's about the science and only the science. So when we got into a conversation tonight about the characters, I was pleasantly surprised, to say the least. When asked about Sara, he had one thing to say. And I quote, "She's quite the lost soul, isn't she?" All through dinner, I couldn't stop thinking about that. And when I got home, I scrapped everything I had on this chapter so far, and wrote what follows.
Thanks for continuing to follow this story. It means a lot to me.
Giving Up
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Grissom."
"Hmm?"
"When did you first know that you loved me?"
"You want me to pinpoint an exact second?"
"Yeah."
"Can you do the same?"
"Sure. But you haven't asked me. I've asked you."
"And now I'm curious. If you tell me, I'll tell you."
"It was when you stole my beef jerky."
"I didn't steal it. I asked you to volunteer it. It was all in the name of science."
"Your own lecture and you couldn't remember to bring something for your bugs to chomp on."
"I was distracted that morning."
"By what?"
"By the leggy brunette who stole my parking spot five minutes before the lecture was set to start."
"Wow, what a bitch."
"Well, I thought so at the time. And I confess, I've thought the same thing several times since then. But…that didn't stop me from falling for her when she got out of her car, blew me a kiss, and told me better luck next time."
"I paid for that in beef jerky, Grissom. Grissom…"
"Grissom!"
Catherine pressed a cool cloth against Sara's forehead. Shaking her head, she told Nick, "She's been like this for the past hour. Nightmares, I guess. Starring you-know-who."
The woman in question tossed her head against her pillow, her burned brow furred in anguish. "Grissom…" she murmured again in her sleep.
Nick set down the flowers he'd brought and approached the hospital bed. "I figured he'd be here by now." He made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. "So much for my great anonymous quote."
"Your what?"
"Never mind." He took the cloth from her and dipped it back into the bowl of ice water on the rolling tray table. "I can take over, Cath, if you've gotta get home."
"I should check on Lindsey." She hesitated. "You saw Grissom, then?"
"I saw him."
His tone told her all she needed to know. "Um…the day shift guy assigned to Sara's case called awhile ago. He needs to know when she wakes up, so he can come take her statement."
"I'll take care of it." Nick gently dabbed Sara's cheeks with the cold washcloth. "She will wake up, won't she?"
"CAT scan showed nothing but a minor concussion. Once she's rehydrated, she's supposed to be just fine."
"But?"
"I think she'd get better a whole lot faster if someone else was here taking care of her." Catherine paused. "Where is he, Nick?"
"He said he needed to stop and get something. And that he'd meet me here." Nick's jaw twitched. "Naïve Nicky believed him."
"He could still be coming."
"I won't be holding my breath."
Pausing at the door, she watched him for a second as he took the chair she'd been occupying for the past few hours. She was almost a hundred percent sure that Nick's devotion to Sara was nothing more than what he felt for his own biological sisters. And she was two hundred percent sure that for Sara, there was only one man, and he wasn't their resident cowboy.
It was almost too bad. Shaking her head, she pulled the door open and walked out. They would have been cute together.
Here I am, where I've been
I've walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin
And my clothes are worn and gritty.
And I've known ugliness.
Now show me something pretty.
There was an accident on the Strip and Gil Grissom was stuck between two tour buses and a Hummer limousine. For the first time in his life, he understood the concept of road rage.
"Come on," he muttered under his breath, his hands clutching the steering wheel so tight that he was in danger of ripping it away. "It's an accident, not a floor show, people. You drive by it without stopping to look."
Two minutes later, he'd moved no more than two yards down the road.
"Damnit!" His forehead touched the wheel right before he pushed away from it with a violent burst of speed. "Why are you doing this to me?"
He asked the question to no one in particular, and if he'd been pressed to point the finger of blame for his current situation at anyone, he'd only have ended up pointing to himself. Instead of going straight to the hospital, he'd made a foolish stop at his townhouse that had cost him time and put him right in the middle of this rush-hour mess.
The thing he'd stopped for lay on the passenger's seat. The glass might have been broken, but the butterfly remained intact; there had to be some deeper meaning in that. Parallels between the winged creature and the woman lying in a Desert Palm hospital bed. Both things of great beauty that he'd kept separated from himself by a thin layer of glass. Delicate and fascinating…easily broken, but even more easily lost.
He ran the back of his hand over his mouth as he came to yet another short stop, only inches from where he'd been before.
Karma, Grissom thought. It really does exist.
"Sara."
"What?"
"You will leave me, you know."
"I will?"
"It's inevitable."
"Then why did you make love to me tonight?"
"A mistake. Occasionally, I make them."
"All mistakes should feel this good, Grissom…"
"Hey, whoa. Easy there." With infinite care, Greg guided Sara's head back to her pillow. She'd woken up so suddenly that he hadn't been prepared for it. When Nick had left to head back to the lab, he assured Greg that she'd continue to be out for a long time.
So she'd really caught him off guard by sitting up in bed, calling out a single name. "Sara," he continued softly. "It's okay."
She was confused; it was written all over her face. "How long have I been out?"
"Awhile." He watched her look around with frantic eyes. "Catherine went home to check on Lindsey. Nick was here for awhile, but he had some stuff to take care of. He'll be back."
"Where's Grissom?" was all Sara wanted to know.
Greg cleared his throat. "I, um…I don't know, Sara. I'm sorry."
"Did he have to leave?" When Greg said nothing, she looked away. "So…it was just a dream."
"What was? Sara?"
She shrugged her shoulders as much as she could. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters now."
"It matters to me."
Sara looked back at him. "Can you get a nurse? My arms…hurt."
"Sure." He scrambled to his feet, eager to help. "I'll be right back."
He returned a few minutes later with a nurse who administered a hypodermic of medication into Sara's IV. The blissful black of unconsciousness claimed her again. No dreams, no nightmares.
No Grissom.
I was a dumb punk kid with nothing to lose
And too much weight for walking shoes.
I could have died from being boring.
As for loneliness
She greets me every morning.
He was ten minutes away from the hospital when his phone rang.
The vibration of his cell phone in his jacket pocket startled him. Automatically, without thinking, he reached for it. Pavlov would have been proud.
"Grissom," he answered. Too late he realized he hadn't checked to see who was calling him.
"Gil, we've got a 419 out at Lake Mead. Overton Beach." Ecklie paused. "I've assigned you."
It took him several seconds to process this. "Conrad, I don't know if you've been under a rock for the past six hours, but…"
He was cut off. "I know all about Sidle's situation. But this isn't a request, Gil. It's an assignment."
Anger crept into Grissom's chest, hot and acute. "Assign someone else."
"It's not that simple."
"Of course it's that simple. I'm not the only CSI in Vegas."
"No, you're just the only entomologist," Ecklie countered. "The body has extensive insect activity."
"A lot of them do. Get someone else to process, and I'll follow up with the bugs later."
"No. I'm sorry, Gil, but you're on this case from the start. I don't have to tell you how crucial it is to establish a time line immediately. And if you aren't part of the initial investigation, any defense attorney worth his salary will be able to rip apart the TOD evidence on the stand. It's happened before."
His voice took on a deadly quality foreign to them both. "I'm only going to say this once more. Assign someone else."
Ecklie was quiet for a moment. "You're on the case. Or you're out of my lab."
"Why?" Grissom slowly shook his head. "You've got grudges against me; I get that. But her…why?"
"Gil, is she your girlfriend? Lover? Significant other?" Ecklie waited for him to answer, but got nothing. "I didn't think so. Detective Vargas is on the scene; he's expecting you. Good luck." Ecklie hung up, leaving him in turmoil.
There were two paths in front of him. And he could only take one.
Even as he slammed on the brakes and made a U-turn towards Lake Mead, he knew that he was making the wrong choice. But Rome wasn't built in a day. Leopards never changed their spots.
And Gil Grissom had work to do.
"I want you to know why I'm leaving."
"You're leaving me before I can leave you?"
"Goodbye, Sara."
"But…I love you."
"Don't worry. The room's been paid for."
"Grissom…"
"Have breakfast on me. Whatever you want."
She opened her eyes to the glaring white of the overhead lights. In the chair next to her bed, Greg snored softly.
While he slept, Sara cried.
At the most I'm a glare
I'm the hopeless son who's hardly there.
I'm the open sign that's always busted.
I'm the friend you need, but can't be trusted.
- Patrick Park, "Something Pretty"
To Be Continued