Remembering Forward
Chapter 5
The sun was just beginning to rise, creating an orange, glowing light that spilled across Sara as she sat on the couch. After Grissom fell asleep, she had gone back to the living room. She wanted to give him space, but she also needed to think about what happened a few hours ago.
It terrified her that she caused his migraine; he would never say anything, but she felt the situation was her fault. All because of what she said. She didn't think of him as old; he was just older. In fact, she found the gray hair and the lines on his face quite sexy.
Now, she started to doubt her role in their relationship. What did she have to offer him, besides stress? A workaholic, stubborn nature along with an ugly past? Who in the world would want that in their life? Who would accept that kind of baggage? She lay down, and tucked her knees under her chin as overwhelming feelings of sadness and fear washed over her. A few tears escaped, but she refused to start crying. Maybe she what she said before was right; maybe some people shouldn't be together.
She remained on the couch a while longer before heading toward the bedroom. Grissom would no doubt question her if she spent the morning out here. She was mentally exhausted from all of the thoughts swirling in her head. Perhaps some sleep would help.
She quietly opened the door, and slipped inside. Walking over to his side, she saw he was still sleeping soundly. After changing clothes, she slipped into the bed, and curled up on her side with her back toward him. She lay awake, unable to stop wondering if this marriage would work. Finally, she descended into an uneasy sleep…
A dark figure materializing out of thin air. A massive frame stalking towards her—an object in his hand. The silhouette is too large—a child's conception of an adult. She knows she needs a weapon and frantically, blindly searching for something. Anything. The solid edge of a gun brushes her hand, but every time she reaches for the weapon, it isn't there. The advancing sound of steel-toed boots approaching her. She knows the boots are steel-toed even though she can't see them. She reaches again. Still not there-the breathing is louder. She reaches again. Nothing solid—the boots stop. Inconceivably cold cement stinging her skin. A leathery, gloved finger touches her throat. The hand squeezes ruthlessly. She desperately fights for breath…
She yelled when a hand touched her shoulder; her eyes opened, frantically searching the surroundings. Her pulse and respiration raced as if she had just run a marathon. The adrenaline coursing through her veins caused her to shake uncontrollably. The cold sweat trickling down her spine made her shiver. When her eyes adjusted, Sara noticed Grissom leaning close to her, gently stroking her arm.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his tone heavy with concern.
"I'm-I'm okay." She pushed herself from the mattress to be seated next to him.
She closed her eyes, and tried taking some deep breaths to calm her nerves. But then two solid arms pulled her into his chest. The remnants of the nightmare receded; the adrenaline stopped pumping and her body warmed under his touch. When she buried her face in his neck, his grip tightened.
The tears started again as she remained in his secure embrace, not because she was scared or upset, but because she felt relieved. Yes, there was a person in the world who wanted this workaholic, stubborn woman with an ugly past. He loved her, and willingly carried her baggage.
After she sniffled, he spoke quietly in her ear, "I guess I'm not the only one who's stressed."
She chuckled weakly. "No, apparently not."
He pulled away gently, and ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. He pressed his warm lips to her forehead, then tugged her down next to him. Once his arms wrapped around her, she snuggled into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" he said as he ran his fingers through her hair.
"Giving you a migraine."
She felt him shake his head. "That wasn't your fault."
"But-"
"Sara," he said firmly, "I don't blame you."
The truth in his voice relaxed her body. "I don't think you're old." Moving closer, she tightened her arm that was around his mid-section.
"I know."
"I'm sorry about teasing you."
He placed a kiss on top of her head. "I know you are. Don't worry about it."
"I love you."
"I know."
She poked him in the stomach, and closed her eyes. Sara slept peacefully curled up to her fiancé.