Author's Notes: I continue to be so grateful for the reviews and the hits; I'm flattered that people are still reading this story. Thank you, and thank you again. I hope it continues to entertain.
Giving Up
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Gil."
He looked up from his microscope and focused on the woman standing in the doorway to his office. "Catherine."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Identifying a particular stage in the life cycle of the rove beetle," he told her, returning to his work.
She propped her hands up on her hips. "You're working."
"I am." Grissom reached for a specimen jar that contained several pupa casings. "I'm almost done."
"You're working," she repeated.
He frowned and glanced up at her again. "Is there something else you want to say to me?"
"Oh…" Catherine's laughter was laced with frustration. "So many choice phrases…must restrain self…" She heaved a great sigh. "I know this sort of thing isn't your strong suit, but can you think of any other place you really ought to be right now?"
Grissom leaned back in his chair. "Catherine…"
"Work with me here, Gil. I know you can do it."
"You don't understand…"
She approached his desk. "I'll give you a hint. It's a really shitty place to wake up in all alone."
"Catherine." He removed his glasses. "As soon as I'm done here, I will be there. But…"
"No 'buts' allowed, Gil. This isn't like walking out of Ecklie's banquet or…or bailing on a date before the entrée arrives."
"I had no choice," Grissom told her. "Ecklie laid down an ultimatum."
"Since when do you give a two-ton pile of crap about what Ecklie wants?"
He pointed at her with his glasses. "You're always telling me to be more political."
"And when did you start listening to me?"
"You're not making this any easier, you know."
"Good!" Catherine threw up her hands. "It's not supposed to be easy, Gil. It's messy and complicated and you have a strong chance of getting burned. But it's worth it. I thought we went through this years ago! See…you weren't listening!"
"A lot changed tonight. I needed time to process it all."
"And have you?"
He hesitated. "I will. When I'm done here, I'm heading straight to the hospital."
"And you're sure you won't be too late?"
Her words temporarily stunned him. With a frown deeply etched on his forehead, he shook his head. "I told her I loved her, Catherine. She knows…everything."
Catherine bit down on her tongue. "She does."
"Yes." He stood up. "I listen to you, Catherine. Back then, I sent her the plant and we worked it out. She stayed. I know she'll understand this; the job is just as important to her as it is to me. And she knows what a jackass Ecklie can be."
"You're taking a lot on faith, Gil." She backed up towards the door. "When you do get burned, don't come crying to me."
He contemplated her words for a long time after she'd left. The bugs were preserved; he could analyze them later. Grissom gathered his files and stuffed them in his briefcase before heading out the door.
Silence and quiet
Again inmy life
Far from these moments
I wish I was
"Warrick, you really don't have to do this."
"Well, this thing isn't motorized, so yeah, I kinda do have to push it." He grasped the handles on the back of the hospital wheelchair. "Although I still think it wouldn't have killed them to keep you under observation for awhile."
"It could have something to do with me signing a paper saying they tried to hold me hostage and I chose to be free."
"Sara Sidle," he reprimanded.
She pumped her fist into the air as much as she could with all the bandages on her arms. "Fight the man, 'Rick."
"And what happens if you keel over in a couple of hours?"
"I pour the rest of the bottle down the drain and call it a night?"
He stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the down button. "I get it. Near-death situations make you funny."
"I'm lubricated with a vat of medicated aloe lotion and wrapped in more protection than a senior jock on prom night." Her words were light, but her tone was not. "All I've got left is my sense of humor."
The elevator doors opened and he pushed her inside. "Whatever works for you."
Warrick got her downstairs and into the passenger's seat of his SUV before she spoke again. "Really, all bad joking aside, thank you for this."
"You know it's cool, girl." He came around to the driver's side, got in, and started up the car. "So…not that I'm complaining…" he hedged, pulling away from the curb. "But where's Greg?"
"Sent him home when he started drooling in his sleep. I don't do saliva."
"Nick?"
"At the lab, I think."
"Catherine?"
"I don't know."
"What about…"
"Warrick." She turned her head to glare at him. "Stop. Please."
"Yeah." He turned onto the main road. "Sorry."
Minutes passed in silence until Warrick pulled into her apartment complex. He put the car in park and sat back.
Sara looked out the window. "I really thought I'd never get home again."
"You went through hell, Sara. But you survived."
"I'm a survivor." She closed her eyes for a second. "I hate that word."
"Look, I know you already told the whole story for the record, but if you don't mind me asking…who did this to you?"
"I don't know," she whispered a moment later. "I never saw anyone."
"Do you think it could have been…?"
"He wouldn't hurt me."
Warrick nodded, but not in understanding. In placation. "Okay. No more questions; I promise."
Another minute passed. "Warrick, have you ever heard of the International Fellowship of Forensic Scientists?"
"IFFS? Yeah, I've gotten some paper from them. Why?"
She continued to stare out the window. "You know, they've done a lot of work in Bosnia, Iraq, Cambodia…helping dig up and identify genocide victims in mass graves. They also help train criminalists in less developed countries."
"CSI's Without Borders. But why are you…" He stopped. "Sara…you're not thinking about…"
"I'm just thinking out loud." She blinked out of her stare and smiled at him around the bandages on her face. "Thanks for the ride. I can take it from here."
"Like hell you can." He jumped out of the car and came around to her side, opening the door. "C'mon. I'm not leaving until you're settled in and I've seen you eat something."
Sara rolled her eyes. "Guess there's no paper I can sign to get me out of this one, is there?"
"No." He helped her out of the car. "Don't try to fight the power when you look like King Tut."
"Aww, with that bedside manner, it's no wonder you work with the dead."
He laughed as he guided up towards her front door. "I could say the same thing about your sense of humor."
Undo this leash
You say I tied
When only our fears are to blame this time
And what am I to you?
Just spit it out
I'm not afraid of the words that you hide
With the framed butterfly in one hand and a potted orchid in the other, Grissom approached the Desert Palm admittance desk.
"Sara Sidle's room number."
The man behind the desk started typing on his computer. "Sara with an 'h'?"
"No. Just S-A-R-A."
He backspaced. "S-I-D-E-L?"
"L-E." Grissom cleared his throat. "Could you hurry, please?"
The man finished typing. "Sara Sidle was discharged an hour ago."
"Discharged? How can that be?"
"I don't know, sir."
Grissom set the orchid down on the counter. "Who was her doctor?"
"I'm sorry, I can't give out that information."
"I'm her emergency contact. I'd like to know the name of the quack who discharged a woman pulled half-dead out of the desert less than twelve hours ago!"
The man sighed. "Sir, if you could just calm down…"
"Never mind." Grissom picked the plant back up. "Thank you for your help."
"Hey, Stokes." Taylor, the day shift CSI assigned to Sara's case, caught up with Nick in the lab parking lot. "You heading home?"
"Yeah. I need a shower in the worst way. But I've got a minute." He lowered his sunglasses to see the man better in the glare of the rising sun. "You've got news?"
"I promised I'd keep you in the loop," Taylor reminded him. "So, we found fresh epithelials on the rope, along with Sidle's blood. DNA's running them now."
"Great. Make sure they're compared to the sample on file for Dr. Lawton Forbes."
"I remember. As for her car, it was found locked. You know what that means."
Nick nodded. "He wanted everyone to think she skipped town. He thought this out, I'll give him that. 'Course, he's had practice."
"Well, we found hairs that clearly don't belong to Sidle in the driver's seat. He must have worn gloves, though. No prints. Anywhere. But in the trunk, we found blood and hairs."
"Sara's?"
"Presumably. But those results aren't back yet either."
"Dumped her in the desert via her own car." Nick swore under his breath. "He better be glad I won't be the one interrogating him."
Taylor cleared his throat. "So…how far in the loop do you want to be?"
"Um…all the way. Why?"
"Well…she is your teammate. Your friend." He hesitated. "It's good news. Just that the rape kit came back negative. No fluids, no trauma."
Nick expelled a short breath. "Okay. Hadn't even thought about that possibility." Once he had regained his composure, he nodded. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."
"Nothing owed," Taylor assured him. "Sidle's one of us."
Once inside his car, Nick pounded his fist against the steering wheel. Once, twice, three times…until his knuckles were bloody.
After all we have been through
I can only look at you
Through the eyes you lied to
I'm givin' up, givin' up
I'm givin' up on you
Grissom pulled into the guest parking spot next to Sara's empty, assigned space. He kept the motor running for a minute while he mapped out a plan of things to say to her.
"Sara," he started, watching himself in the rearview mirror. "Remember on the phone, I told you there were things I needed to tell you. Things I should have told you a long time ago. Well, here they are."
He shook his head, took a breath and started again. "Sara, I have hurt you and let you down and I will do whatever you want me to do if you'll just say it's not too late."
Swearing, he started one more time. "When I told you I loved you, it wasn't because of the situation or because I almost lost you. It's just what I feel. Every single day. It's what I lie to myself about, and what I try to hide from everyone else. Including you."
Grissom gave his reflection one last look. "Don't blow this," he told himself.
When he reached Sara's door, he only hesitated for a second before he knocked. The butterfly was carefully tucked under his arm. The orchid was in his hand, ready to work its healing powers of apology.
The door swung open. And all he could say was, "Hi."
Sara turned and limped away. But she left the door open. He took it as a silent invitation. Entering, he closed it behind him. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours since they'd fought right here?
"Are you all right?" Grissom asked. "You're limping."
"Blisters on my feet," she replied, tersely. "Warrick's already force-fed me. I have plenty of supplies and I'm consenting to two weeks paid sick leave. I'm fine. You've fulfilled your obligations as my supervisor. So, you can go now."
"Sara." He shook his head, confused. "I came here to see you. It's not an obligation."
"Right. An obligation would have been a five minute stop by the hospital. But you couldn't even manage that."
"I..."
"I'm grateful for you finding me. Don't think I'm not. I owe you my life. That's a debt I can never repay."
"You'd never have to. Sara..."
Sara eased herself down onto the couch. "Grissom, I look like crap. I feel like hell. And, no offense, I don't have the energy to deal with you right now."
"I don't understand. After what happened last night…"
"It doesn't matter."
He looked down at the orchid's white blossom. "It doesn't?"
"Should it? Is it going to change things between us?"
"It…should." Grissom frowned. "Things…will be different."
Sara touched the bandage across her nose. "Why?"
"Because…" He stopped. "Sara, when you went missing, I…"
"It doesn't matter," she said again. "I'm done, Grissom. I made a decision while I waited for you to show up at the hospital. I'm not letting this go on. I'm stopping it." Sara drew in a deep breath. "I won't just be spending these two weeks recuperating. I'll be getting ready."
A few seconds passed. "Getting ready for what?"
"To move." The words hung in the air between them. "I'm leaving. And please, no plants. No speeches about the lab needing me. This is something that's long overdue."
He needed to sit down, but somehow managed to keep standing. "If this is what you want…I won't try to talk you out of it." Grissom's eyes met hers. "There's really nothing that happened last night…that might make you stay?"
She shook her head. And broke his heart. Like he'd always known she would.
After all if there is no way out
If you cannot stand beside me
There isn't love
There is only pride
I'm givin' up, I'm givin' up this fight
Nick's cell rang just as the microwave beeped and the Cowboys scored a touchdown. With the skill of a long-time bachelor, he answered the phone, pulled out his dinner and muted the TV almost all at the same time.
"Stokes."
"Hey, man. It's Taylor."
He nearly dropped the hot bowl of reheated chili. "What's going on?"
"We got the DNA results back."
Nick leaned against the kitchen counter. "Go ahead."
"The hairs and blood in the trunk belong to Sidle. No surprise there."
"The ropes?"
Taylor paused. "Yeah, that's where it gets weird. The epithelial cells we found on the ropes didn't match the reference sample."
"What?" Nick switched the phone to his other ear. "You're shitting me."
"Wish I was. But I don't have to tell you, DNA doesn't lie. The cells on the rope not only don't belong to Lawton Forbes, they're not even XY."
"A woman's DNA?" He shook his head. "Sara's?"
"No match to Sidle. Unknown female." Taylor cleared his throat. "Makes life a little more interesting."
"Interesting." Nick snorted softly. "Not always a good thing."
To Be Continued
A/N: The song is "Giving Up" by Lara Fabian, and it's what inspired this whole story. The IFFS, as far as I know, does not exist. Thanks for reading!