Summary: How can a relationship with Grissom be worse than longing for one? Sara insists on an answer. When Grissom complies, the words 'Be careful what you wish for,' prove to be true.

Timeline: Takes place during CSI Season Six. Minor spoilers for Still Life, Daddy's Little Girl, Kiss Kiss Bye Bye, and Pirates of the Third Reich.

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.

A/N: Sincere thanks to csishewolf, brandie, dirtyvirgin, and csinut214 for their thoughtful comments during the writing of this story. Your suggestions made this story richer, when you could get me to take your advice…BWAHahahahaha. Officially unbetaed. Many eyes have sifted through these words, but mistakes are my own.


CHAPTER FIVE

Silence stretched between them: Sara in shock and Grissom partially trapped in the past. She recovered first. "What happened?" she asked softly.

After a few moments he got up, walked to the kitchen island and poured himself another drink. Leaning against the counter, he tried to gather his thoughts – he had to finish this. "I didn't think it would be this hard," he thought. Seeing the concern on Sara's face made it worse. Tears from an age ago stung behind his eyes, begging for release. He took a swallow of bourbon and plunged forward.

"We worked three days straight on that evidence. The whole lab: more than twenty CSIs, coroners and techs. It was early Christmas morning when Philip finally released us. Frank's car was on the blink again so I offered him a ride. He tried to tell me he was going to catch a bus, but I insisted. Eventually, he gave in.

"I was so tired I didn't realize he was guiding me in the opposite direction from where he lived until I recognized Halyn's neighborhood. He tried to have me drop him off at the Burger King right up the street from her place. I looked over at him to ask what was going on and suddenly, I knew. I don't know how I knew, I just did.

"I drove past the Burger King and pulled up to Halyn's duplex. When he opened the door to get out I asked him, 'How long?' He said, 'Since the summer.' Frank just hung there, half in and half out of the car, waiting for me to release him. I said, 'Do you love her?' He didn't hesitate for even a moment. He said, 'Yes, I do.'

"Halyn must have heard the car idling from inside because she stepped out onto the porch to see what was going on. She stood there staring at the two of us frozen in the dome light of my car – I heard her gasp and when I looked up she was horrified, both hands covering her mouth.

"Frank finally got all the way out of car and shut the door. Halyn had fled by this time. I watched him walk up the driveway. He paused for a minute at the door before disappearing inside. Eventually I put the car in gear and drove home."

Draining his drink, he turned and poured another. After taking a sip he turned back to Sara, surprised to see tears streaming down her face. Then he realized his own face was wet. Quickly wiping his eyes, he went on, "She called me later and asked that I come over to talk. I had no idea what there was to talk about, but I was morbidly fascinated with this thing going up in flames around me, so I agreed. I had Jeffrey's Christmas present, too – I told myself I should make sure he got it. I was on autopilot…funny that seeing him get one more Christmas present was important to me…he certainly didn't need it…but it was something concrete to fasten on.

"Frank met me at the door when I got there and immediately disappeared into the bedroom. While I was waiting for Halyn to come out, I looked around this place that had felt so like home to me…there was a Christmas tree and wrapping paper all over the floor from the gifts Jeffrey had opened, several I didn't recognize which I realized must have been contributions from Frank…and I swear to you, there was this song playing on the stereo: 'Torn Between Two Lovers.' Honestly Sara, it was surreal. I felt like I was watching it all through some kind of window…that I was just an observer.

"Halyn finally came out. She'd been crying. When she realized what was playing on the stereo she turned it off and practically pushed me outside. We stood there on the sidewalk in front of her house, each waiting for the other to say something.

"She said, 'Gil, I am so sorry…I don't know what to say…' I know I tried to say something a couple of times but couldn't seem to make any sounds. At last I said, 'Do you love him?' She nodded and I turned to go. I remember thinking calmly, 'Well, that's that,' as I was getting in the car. Halyn ran around to the driver's side and hit the window several times, so I rolled it down.

"She told me that I was her best friend and without me, she wouldn't have gotten through her divorce. She said it was all her fault…after her divorce she was desperate to feel something – anything – again. Being with me felt so good after so much shit at home and with Hank. When we got together, she thought she'd found the answer…she'd told me she loved me because she thought she did love me…but as time went on she realized something was missing. She kept telling herself something was wrong with her, then tried not to think about it. When she met Frank, that part she thought was dead came back. That's when she realized she loved me but she was in love with him. She just didn't know how to tell me.

"As I watched her standing there crying…telling me all this…I knew she was telling the truth. And I finally understood what she meant when she talked about feeling numb. I felt extremely remote. Part of me said matter-of-factly, 'my heart is broken' but it wasn't attached to any feeling…it was an observation, like 'my shoe is untied.'

"When she ran down, I rolled up the window and started the car. Then I drove home."

As Grissom finished speaking he found himself sitting on the couch next to Sara, who was holding his hand tightly. He wondered idly how he had gotten there, then decided it didn't matter. They were sharing another well of grief, like they had at her apartment a year ago. A small voice in his head said, 'be here now.' It was as if a bubble burst, thrusting him into the present and firmly into the moment – with Sara. More than 20 years of grief rushed out of him as they sat together connected by clasped hands and love.

xxx

It took a long time for the sorrow to spend itself. As Grissom steadfastly refused to express or even acknowledge his loss, it collected all his other hurts like a magnet. In the end, he wasn't just grieving for Halyn, but for pain from half a lifetime.

When Sara sensed he was through and starting to collect himself, she went to the kitchen and brought him several paper towels wet with cold water. "Here," she said, putting them in his hand, "hold these against your eyes. It helps with the sting."

Eyes red and face puffy, he took them from her with a tiny embarrassed smile. "Thanks," he said, relieved to have some reason to cover his face. It's one thing to resolve to be more open – it's another to really do it for the first time, then sit eye to eye with the person to whom you've bared your soul.

Sara sat quietly waiting for him to process what had just happened, still shocked that he'd actually done it. As much as she wanted him to let her in, she'd decided long ago that Grissom had walls she'd never breach. They were just part of his landscape. She was prepared to accept some serious limits with him, but he'd blown her wildest expectations out of the water. She just hoped he didn't go into full retreat.

Grissom got up and went into the kitchen where he washed his face and dunked his head under the faucet. He grabbed a few more paper towels to dry off, then combed his fingers through his hair. Reaching into a cabinet for two glasses, he crossed to the fridge to get ice and two bottles of water before settling back down on the couch. Spying Sara's empty water bottle, he handed her an ice choked tumbler and full bottle. "I didn't even offer you a glass before. I'm sorry, Sara," he said.

She set the glass on the coffee table and twisted the cap off her bottle. 'That's OK, Griss. You were a little preoccupied."

That made him smile. Filling his own glass, he drank what was left in the bottle then half drained the glass. "I'm very thirsty," he said, surprised. "Sharing is thirsty work."

Draining her own glass, Sara said, "It is that," and laughed.

"Too bad I don't have a fireplace to smash our glasses in," he said, meeting her eyes.

Holding his gaze, Sara said softly, "Oh, I think you've done enough smashing for one day." When Grissom didn't say anything, she asked, "What happened after Christmas, Griss?"

"I called Philip the day after Christmas and told him I wanted to take some leave. I booked a room at a cheap hotel in Sylmar and spent a week at Magic Mountain. I still hold the record there for consecutive rides on the Colossus…I stopped counting after 200."

"Did that help?" Sara asked.

"I did it to feel something, Sara. The noise and chaos mirrored my mental state…I read an article once by a man whose son was autistic. He was trying to figure out why the boy would spin things…anything he could hold in his hands. He finally concluded that if his son's world was spinning, maybe the only way he could get a good look at the things in it was to spin them, too. That's how it was on the roller coasters. Every nerve was overloaded just like my head was. And of course, I did it to feel close to Halyn. I was trying to remember and to forget."

Sara nodded. "You still ride them."

"That was when they really became mine…not just something I shared with her. It's what I did…what I do…to hold it together."

"Wasn't there anyone you could confide in?" she asked.

"Well, there was my mother, but we hadn't been close since my dad died. Philip was a mentor and we did socialize occasionally, but he was just not that kind of person. Everyone else I knew was a colleague at work, not a friend. Halyn was the only person I had, and I'd lost her.

"All I knew to do was work harder or study harder. I'd done it before, so that's what I did," he said.

Sara took this in and thought a moment. "What happened to Halyn and Frank?"

"When I got back from my week off, Frank had resigned. He must have told someone at the Lab because word got around and no one ever mentioned either of them after that. I boxed up the things she had at my place and left them with Mrs. Walker. She never said whether Halyn came to get them or not. A box of my things appeared on my doorstep around that same time."

Puzzled, Sara asked, "And that was it? You just 'disappeared' them from your life?"

"I shut down to survive, Sara. It's taken years for me to understand what that choice cost me."

Putting together recent events with the past and remembering the pain that made her force Grissom's hand, she said, "And if I hadn't stopped you from walking out the door that day at my place, you'd have 'disappeared' me, too?"

Eyes sad, Grissom reached out to take Sara's hand. Reluctantly, she allowed the touch. "Sara, I have made so many mistakes with you. The worst was opening the door to intimacy then not letting you through it. You asked why I hurt you. Telling you about Halyn is a big part of my explanation…because you need to know how shut down I've been and why. But that doesn't really explain my behavior."

"No, it doesn't."

Grissom leaned forward and picked up the single journal remaining on the coffee table. "I didn't start keeping a journal again until about a year ago, after Nick's kidnapping. This is it," he said, placing it in her hands. "I don't think this really explains my behavior either, but I'm giving it to you so you'll know I wasn't being purposely cruel. I hope after you read it, maybe you'll forgive me and we can start again. Because I do love you, Sara, and I hope I'm done making the really big mistakes."

Sara sat staring at the leather bound book in her hands, wondering what he'd written. This wasn't about some ancient love affair – among other things, this was about HER. A flash of shock raced up her spine as she considered the access he'd just given her. "What does he expect me to do with this?" She looked at him wide eyed.

"Maybe you'd like to take it home?" he offered, hoping she would jump at his suggestion.

"Yes…home…I'll take it with me," she said, relieved.

"OK," he said. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

Finally, she found her voice. "Thank you, Grissom. For trusting me."

"Thank you, Sara, for listening."

xxx

Grissom's journal lay on Sara's coffee table like Pandora's Box, beckoning with the promise of secrets revealed. All she had to do was flip open the cover and she'd have her wish. Holding her cup of tea close to her chest, soaking in the heat that spilled between her fingers, she thought, "Be careful what you wish for, Sidle."

In the two days since the 'night of revelations,' it had been quiet at the Lab so she hadn't had work to take her mind off Grissom's confession. She noticed he'd been in his office buried in paperwork, necessary but suspiciously convenient…as she thought about it she decided the break was probably a good thing. They both needed time to process what had passed between them – and what was to come.

He'd given her a mixed blessing when he gave her this journal. "There'll be no going back after this," she thought, then laughed at her own naïveté.

Her relationship with Grissom had been nothing but 'no going back' moments, starting the day she came to Las Vegas. There was no going back when he said he'd only been interested in beauty since he'd met her, or when she'd told him about her parents, or when she'd let him into her bed and certainly not since he'd laid open his painful past to her. Who was she kidding? They'd deluded themselves that they weren't traveling the same path…the pace had just picked up recently and they were both a little frightened of the speed.

Sara carefully set her cup down on the table and picked up the book. Taking a deep breath, she opened the cover. Written squarely in the center of the first page was a quote:

Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate... but with his other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruinsFranz Kafka

"Here we go," she thought, and turned the page.

The first entries were from mid-May 2005, just after Nick's kidnapping. As she started to read, the raw pain of those days loomed once more. Having no desire to go back to that horrible time she decided to start with the first time they'd made love. That had been the start of all this, so that was a logical place to begin.

xxx

Thursday, December 29, 2005 – What have I done?

I allowed myself to be with Sara today. Even as my mind fogged with desire for her, I could have pulled back. Now that I have made love to her, I am lost.

I was weak. I was selfish.

But, oh, what bliss to be with her at last. Her skin is softer than I imagined. Her scent filled my lungs like smoke – instead of gasping for air, I breathed deep trying to burn it in memory. When I finally entered her, she was hot and wet and so ready…it was all I could do not to ravage her.

She knew exactly where to touch me, the words to set me on fire. I have been closed and empty for so many years, it was a shock to be filled up. Until she said she loved me.

What am I going to do? What do I have to offer her? I've been dead a long time. If I cannot give her anything, it would be a sin to go on.

Now that I've loved her, I am truly lost. God help me.

xxx

Tuesday, January 3, 2006 – I only managed to stay away for five days. She took me to her bed again and loved me. Afterward, I couldn't face her. She dozed off and I stole away, burning with shame.

I swear I will not give in again, but even as I write these words my body rages for her. I am raw from trying to still the need.

xxx

Friday, January 13, 2006 – I can hardly bear to look at her. I see confusion in her eyes, and pain. I put them there. What a prick.

Sometimes I tell myself I love her and what we're doing is OK. I tell myself that, but the ice in my chest knows the truth. For those few blessed minutes in her arms, buried in her body, I'm alive and I know I love her. If only I could stay alive.

All sins tend to be addictive, and the terminal point of addiction is damnationW. H. Auden

xxx

Thursday, January 19, 2006 – Today at the Lab I was discussing a case – drawing an analogy between people in a deadly relationship and the uncontrolled detonation of thermite; benign elements coming together to burn so hot the fire can melt steel, just as the people in the case had come together explosively.

Sara said, "I guess some people just shouldn't be together."

My heart was in my throat…I thought, 'Please don't leave me, Sara,' as if we're together in any way other than the sex I take from her. Why am I doing this to her? To myself? I thought I was an honorable man, not some ass who uses women.

And I went to her after shift. I stood on her doorstep like some oversexed teenager, on fire for her. When I saw the heat reflected in her eyes, control slipped away. She let me lose myself in her.

As soon as I found myself again I left.

xxx

Friday, January 27, 2006 – Sara and I walked into Trace last night and caught Hodges touching up his gray with a magic marker. Sara said something like, didn't he know gray hair can be very attractive? Maybe she was talking about me.

I've been twisting in my own wind since we began, avoiding her until I find myself at her door…is it possible she doesn't hate me?

I am a wreck, ever since Halyn called...

Sara gasped in shock, "What!" and looked back down at the journal in her hands.

ever since Halyn called I have been unsettled…

The words on the page were quite clear. Halyn called.


To Be Continued... Chapter 6 to follow shortly