Title: Race Among the Ruins
Author: Cropper
Pairing: GSR
Rating: Mature for Profanity
Disclaimer: Sadly, the characters herein are not mine. I promise to play nice and return them when I am done.
A/N: A very, very heartfelt thank you to everyone who hung with me to the bitter end. It has been an exhilarating journey. One more time...csipal, ligaras and Master Beta? I could not have done this without you. A special thank you to Golffer5 and Domo Arigato for all of the encouragemnt, conversation and support.
Summary: Too little sleep and too much sleet.
Chapter Ten
Sara heard Grissom sniffle right before he hung up on her and felt an icy talon of fear shred her intestines and claw at her stomach. With one simple word, one that was meant to be flirtatious and playful, she had unwittingly destroyed all hope to which he had been clinging. He was reaching out, vainly grasping for some warmth, and she had heartlessly, stingingly slapped his hand away. She had been joking, damn it, had fully intended to finish her flip snip by telling him the truth. He had to know that she loved him; she had already admitted that he was her baby. How could he have taken her seriously? She had just wanted to tease him for a moment before spelling everything out letter by letter. He may have tugged her around on a leash for years, manipulated her and treated her like a dung beetle at times - actually, he would have probably treated a dung beetle better - but what she had just done to him was unintentionally cruel. She was not a cruel person, it was not within her to be cruel. A moment too late she realized that the pain Grissom was suffering was not just physical. He had ventured into some horrendously frightening caverns of his own battered psyche and she had shattered his dreams; stolen his only reason for survival. She had promised him, promised him that she would protect him and keep him safe. What had she just done?
She started punching her speed dial in agitation, trying to get him back. As soon as the rings cycled through to voice mail she disconnected and tried again. Her persistence paid off. Grissom finally answered on the fifteenth try.
"Gris?"
The only response she received was a little snot-filled grunt.
"Grissom, listen to me," she began desperately. She had to make him understand. "You DO deserve to be loved. Everybody deserves to be loved, baby. Even you, Especially you."
"No!" Grissom barked. He was fading fast and he knew it. He had to explain, had to make things right with Sara before he died. He did not want her to carrying around any misplaced guilt because of him. He had to make sure that her conscience was clear. He owed her some peace, a fresh start, a chance for something he had never had...a chance to find love. "Not worth effort. Never enough. Disappoint...everyone."
Christ, who had hurt him so much? Who or what had made him believe those terrible things. This went so much further than what she had originally deduced given his scant clues. She was going to have to come clean, go all the way and lay her cards down on the virtual table. A little boy peeping from behind Grissom's aloof exterior was calling feebly to her, a very frightened and needy little boy who just wanted someone to love him, a little boy whose heart had been broken one too many times.
"Gris, I can't just love you a little. It doesn't work that way, baby. It is an all or nothing thing with me. Do you understand what I am saying?"
Grissom was struggling to wrap his beleaguered mind around what Sara was trying to tell him. This was all so very confusing. He needed to think. He needed to sort this out. He had nothing to lose save the remainder of his male pride by asking one more time but he had to give her an avenue of escape. The gentleman in him had to offer her a chance to back out before any sort of commitment could be made, before a line could be crossed and thus forever erased. She had a right to know, regardless of how much the admission might shame him.
"Nothing to give you." It was true. All he had to offer was himself and he was no prize. He could never come close to ever fulfilling anyone's conception of the ideal man. She deserved so much more than a socially inept, emotionally stunted, fifty-year-old virgin.
"All I want is you," Sara responded in a clear, honest voice.
"Really?"
Sara nearly cried with relief when she detected the minute glimmer of hope in his question. He had gotten the message. He might not fully believe it yet, but he had figured out what she had been trying to say without actually saying the words.
"Yeah," she sighed. "For a long time now."
Her simple statement was so much more than he had ever dared to dream. He wanted to launch into a flowery declaration, quote the romantic poets, sing her praises to the skies. A half-groaned syllable was all he could muster. He hoped it would be enough.
"Too."
They shared a quiet moment, each silently rejoicing in what the other had warily shared.
"Sara? You...first one...only one."
Sara was floored by his unexpected revelation. Was she really his first love? His only love? Grissom could not, would not lie about something like that; could not, would not throw out something like that because he thought it was what she needed to hear. He simply did not possess the strength to hide from her anymore.
Her voice was clogged with unshed tears. "Gris..."
"Just...just...hold you?"
"If that's what you need, baby." She was incapable of denying such a simple, lonely request.
"Haven't...been hugged...since five."
A single tear slid down Sara's cheek as the import of Grissom's simple statement hit her full force. She had been correct; he had been abused and neglected as a child. The rest of it she was not so sure about. She was certain about one thing, however. He was just as fucked up as she. God, what a team they made.
"Gris, I will hold you as long as you want. We can go home, cuddle under some blankets and watch old movies if you want."
"Just want...need...to touch you."
"Hey..."
"Mmmm?"
Grissom was failing. He was not going to emerge victorious from this final battle and she knew it. She was losing him. Time was running out.
"I love you, Grissom."
"Too."
Nick and Greg shared an uncomfortable glance in the front seat of the SUV. Tension had been escalating to alarming levels as fast as Sara's usually calm and cool composure had been eroding. Each successive conversation had left her a little more defeated, a little more anxious and a hell of a lot more frightened. They felt dirty, like a couple of tawdry voyeurs, speaking to Sara only when necessary so that she could focus every tendril of her rapidly depleting energy stores and tenacious attention on Grissom. The last exchange they had overheard was not meant for public consumption and it pained the guys that circumstances had necessitated that a first shared proclamation of love from two very private people had to occur in front of witnesses.
Sara turned her head toward the window and tears rolled down her wan cheeks as she feigned interest in the passing scenery. Nick peeked furtively over his right shoulder, noticing with a shudder that she had removed the headset, her only touchstone to Grissom, before venturing, "Sara?" His question was so soft that she could easily ignore him if she chose. "You going to be okay?" His voice was filled with compassion and he truly did not expect her to respond. He knew the answer.
"He told me...he told me...I am the first and only woman he has ever loved." She ruthlessly swallowed a sob, steeling her wavering emotions into some semblance of control. "Greg, drive faster. I have to find him. I promised him..."
Sara's next exclamation nearly brought the two men out of their seats as she started pounding on the window to emphasize her words. "Look! See it?" she all but screamed. "The mangled guard rail? This has got to be the right spot."
Greg practically stood on the brake pedal as he brought the unwieldy SUV to a shrieking, screeching stop of smoking rubber. The truck wobbled precariously as it navigated the same sudden drop in grade that had started Grissom's descent into hell a few hours earlier.
Somewhere in the distance above and behind him, Grissom heard the hot squeal of brakes. Was it Sara finally coming to save him? The persistent pessimist within would not allow him to get his hopes up too high. She would never find him in time and he was going to die in this fucking mangled death trap with its nonfunctional airbags and defective seatbelts. It was too late...too late. Not even Sara could save him now.
Sara leapt out of the quaking vehicle before it had fully wobbled to a stop and was sliding violently down the slope before Nick and Greg were able to unfasten their safety belts and throw open the heavy doors. She was wet and muddy and did not care. She could see a tangled heap of steel resting forlornly in the gloomy distance. All that mattered was finding Grissom.
She fell full bore into the metal, wrenched open the passenger door and wormed into the empty bucket seat of the little economy car. She wriggled atop the console in an effort to get close enough to touch Grissom. She searched frantically for a pulse and placed her hand over his mouth to make sure he was still breathing. She choked with relief. She was not too late. He was still alive. He was in bad shape, but he was alive and had never looked better. Her tears fell unnoticed as she gently cradled his bloody head against her left shoulder. She ran her fingers through his sodden gray hair while whispering his name and dropping feather light kisses on his face. His eyes fluttered open briefly, wondering who had found him, who was protecting him, who was loving him. It was Sara - always Sara. He mumbled her name and was rewarded with a smile. A Sara smile. He groped for her hand and sighed with blissful satisfaction when his large paw was cradled by her warmth.
Throughout the tedious and often painful chore of extracting Grissom from his iron and fiberglass coffin, Sara remained by his side. The medics and firefighters were forced to work around her. She refused to relinquish her grip. He needed to be held, to be hugged and she was not going to abandon him. She maintained the hand to hand contact as the basket made it's way up the mountainside and clambered into the ambulance to perch next to his gurney, touching, always touching, anything she could reach without hurting him or hindering the efforts of the medics. She touched and soothed and crooned words of love...she called him baby and told him that she would take care of him, would keep him safe. She whispered all of the things that he had wanted to hear for so long, things he had not heard since he was a very young child. She loved him. He was her baby. Maybe, just maybe, he could let her all the way in. Maybe, just maybe, he could give her his virginity and be completely naked with her. Maybe, just maybe, the inscription Lois had written in Greg's book applied to him as well. Maybe, just maybe, the best was yet to come.
Grissom finally let go. Tears streamed down his face as he quietly slipped into the darkness. Somewhere, deep in a forgotten recess of his craggy heart, a chasm he thought buried these many long and desperate years, the little five-year-old boy finally smiled.