Genre: Mas angst
Rating: Still low
Ship: SGR, yo.
Disclaimer: -sigh- Still don't own My Immortal, it's bazillion themes, or CSI.
Notes: Longer chapter here, and the second of three. I warn you; I'm sick. ;-;
When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me
Two weeks had gone by, and the overtime he had accumulated over the years seemed to never end. It just kept totally up to more vacation days he could take. His cell phone was turned off, and e-mails had been ignored. It was a miracle to get Grissom to pick up the phone at his house, even, and by the time it was achieved, panicked worry had set into the ex-team.
Except for Sara.
She'd just stand, staring out the window, arms folded against her too-thin stomach. She hadn't been home in four straight days, and appeared to be caving in on herself as each hour went by. Greg tried to console her, tried to get her to eat and sleep, but she'd refuse him every time.
"Sara..." He wimpered, tugging lightly on her arm. "Please, Sara, let me drive you home. You need to sleep." Her shoulder bobbed, and he dropped his hand, shooting a helpless look over at Nick, who had been watching. He cleared his throat finally, walking over to her.
"If you don't let Greg take you home then I'm going to drag your ass out there, Sara. This is rediculous. Go home!" He spoke with more force than Greg, and the tall woman slowly turned, every year of her disappointing life reflected in the whiteness of her skin and the darkness under her eyes.
"I can't go home, Nick." She whispered slowly, and his eyebrows furrowed.
"Why?"
"I have to drive past his apartment and see his car and... know that he's hiding from m-... from us up there."
You used to captivate me by your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me
"Geez, Sar, you look like you haven't slept at all since you left!"
A sly grin, and then, "well maybe I haven't." A bit of laughter, and a shocked expression from her friend.
"Sara Sidle!"
"Oh, I'm teasing, relax. I met somebody, but we're strictly friends." She kept the regret from her tone, giving a careless shrug.
"So... like, you guys are just gonna write?"
"Yes, we're gonna write to each other."
---
"So whatever happened with that guy yer writing to, Sar?"
"Oh... We still talk. Once in a while." She nibbled on her bottom lip, wringing her fingers together slowly.
---
"Wait, you're leaving?"
"Just a few days. I'm going to go visit a friend."
---
She stepped off the plane, shuffling her feet and finally locating the envelope of information. Narrowing her dark eyes at it, she turned and headed off to her left. It took her a little over an hour to navigate the airport, and she finally came to the car that had been rented for her and left precisely where it had said in her letter. His precision never ceased to amaze her, though that was merely one thing about him that fascinated her.
Unlocking the door, she smiled at the folder left in the passenger seat. Sinking into the driver's seat, she picked up the folder and opened it; directions had been typed up for her, the one on top labelled with a big '1' in the top right-hand corner. Sliding the key into the ignition, she turned it, and headed off.
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time can not erase
"Anything while you wait, Gil?"
"Ah... yeah, I'll have my usual." The waitress nodded and headed off to place his order. The usual.
"I seem to remember being told once that being predictable is no fun." Ah, but did she really understand how preditable she was? This was the second time her entrance had been made with a bit of sass, and he was beginning to assume it was her trademark.
Smiling, he turned in his chair to look up at her, pale eyes meeting intense brown.
"Very true, Miss Sidle, but it's easy to be unpredictable when not everyone knows what the predictability factor is." He countered, very aware that his choice of language was confusing and-
"Calamari and beer." She interrupted him, thin arms folding. A smug look rested on her face as he stared at her, completely at a loss. Sara allowed a beat to pass, and then she walked around the table and settled herself into the chair across from him. "The directions you gave were painfully accurate, thank you." She said idly as she lifted the menu to peer down at it.
But Dr. Grissom was still incapable of speech. How had she known exactly what 'the usual' was, having never eaten with him?
Luckily, he was saved by the waitress, who set his plate down, took Sara's order for iced tea, then scuttled off.
The conversation was mostly one-sided, and Sara had to keep herself from bursting out in laughter at how frazzled the man across from her was.
Lunch ended all too quickly, and Sara rose with reluctance. "I need to go check-in at my hotel." He just nodded as he shrugged his jacket on, and the two headed for the parking lot. They parted, and Sara located her car easily, unlocked the door and was about to get inside when a hand suddenly rested on the car, and she became very aware of someone standing next to her.
Turning, she looked up quickly, eyes wide in shock. The surprise quickly melted and she laughed at the stern, but confused look that was directed on her.
"I saw the waitress." Was her simple explaination as she batted his hand away, swung herself into the car, and started it. As she drove out of the parking lot, she stared in the rear-view at the disappearing figure of Gil Grissom, who, for the first time in his life, was completely caught off-guard.
A/N: Wow, this fic is confusing me. It's going how I want, just... differently. Hm. Oh, my reviewers;
MC New York - I fully intend on tapping into their background. That's the intention of this fic. xD
gsrbutterfly - Teehee. I'm sorry, dear, but the ending will be most unhappy. In fact, you'll probably find that all of my stories will be that way. I have three ideas in my head for my next fics; and all them are sad. Sorry!
IHeartPuccini - Thanks for the compliment, and here ya go!
Cranky McCrankster - Well, I'd like to thank the academy, I guess? My Immortal is a great song with a lot (a bazillion, perhaps?) of different themes. It just depends on which one you latch onto. And the ending was supposed to be corny, since it's not even an ending.
Thanks, you four. I like the mixed reactions.