Author's Notes: My deepest appreciation to the people who read and reviewed the last chapter. It's always a lot easier to keep a story going when you know people are enjoying reading it. On that note, enjoy!
The Invisible Man
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Sara, you're about eight centimeters dilated." The nurse patted her hand. "We're getting there."
"Only eight?" she cried. "How is that possible? It's been hours!"
The nurse smiled. "You ever wake up in the morning and just refuse to leave your warm bed?"
Sara blew out a breath. "If you're saying the kid's too comfortable, too bad! I'm kicking it out of bed!"
Grissom had stayed back a safe distance while the nurse had checked Sara's progress. Despite being almost four weeks early and apparently snug and secure in its mother's womb, the baby was doing just fine. Although the doctor Grissom had cornered outside in the hallway had admitted that if the baby was under five pounds at birth, it would be taken to the PICU. Then the doctor had told him that if he was planning to be in the delivery room, he needed to see a nurse about getting a face mask.
And that had left Grissom speechless.
Ever since then, he'd been very aware of his presence in what was inarguably at private moment in Sara's life. He probably should have excused himself a long time ago, but doing so would have left her all alone. His own unease wasn't strong enough for him to be quite that heartless.
Once the nurse was gone, he went back to Sara's side. She tried to smile, but couldn't quite make it. The labor was wearing on her. "Apparently, I didn't pass my punctuality on to my child."
"All things in their time. Even babies," Grissom said. "The length of time my mother claims to have been in labor with me is in direct proportion to how irritated she is with me. In fifteen, twenty years, you can either say this was a breeze, or the longest week of your life."
Sara inhaled, then exhaled slowly. "What's your mother's name?"
It didn't feel strange to tell her about his mother, like he'd always feared it would be. That fear, he realized, kept her from knowing even the most basic thing like his mother's name. Considering the intimate details she'd shared about her own family, suddenly he felt quite ashamed of himself. "Emily."
"Emily. I like it." She touched her stomach. "Maybe I'll give birth to an Emily."
He still couldn't believe she'd chosen not to learn the baby's sex, and had stuck to her decision. The element of surprise had never been his friend.
"You and…he never discussed baby names?"
Sara shook her head against the pillow. "Please don't, Grissom. I can't…not now."
"Sara, the last thing I want to do is upset you. But…the nurse said you're getting there. And I have the distinct impression that 'there' is something the baby's father should be here for. And Sara…" He swallowed. "I'm not him."
"Him." Her laugh was laced with bitterness. "There is no 'him,' Grissom."
"I don't understand. Hank…"
"Is not the father."
Why was his shock coupled with a huge wave of relief? Apparently, his chest had been hurting for months, and only now did the pressure magically lift. "How?" was the only thought he could put into words.
Sara closed her eyes, her brow furred as the pain became stronger. "Turkey baster."
"Sara?"
Her eyes flew open. "I was artificially inseminated, all right? Are you satisfied now? There's no one to call because the only thing I know about my baby's father is the color of his hair and eyes and a brief medical history. I wanted to be a mother and didn't see a relationship in my future, so I just went ahead with it." She twisted the sheets in her hands. "So if you've stayed all this time because you feel sorry for me because I don't have anyone to share this with, just understand that I asked for it. I've done everything of any importance in my life alone, and there's no reason this should be any different."
He should have held her. He should have kissed her forehead. He should have told her that she'd never be alone again because he planned to be there from then on to share all those important moments. He should have done something, anything, other than stand there, trying to think of something to say.
Sara's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. "Just go." When he didn't move, she raised her voice. "Please leave! I mean it, Grissom…go! Now!"
As he left the room, the pressure in his chest returned, ten times worse than before.
To Be Continued
