Sorry for the long updates. It's hard to find time to write with the hours I'm working. I am trying, and I have numerous ideas that I want to get out. This was a fun story to write, and alas we are at the end. I do have a story planned for this, not a sequel but a counterview, from Sara's pov more or less. When this will be up, I'm not sure. :D
Major thanks goes out to Kegel for betaing this for me on her birthday! This Chapter's for her!
Chapter Thirteen: Confirming Wonders
Sleeping, for the most part, was hard. He never really slept, but instead was lost somewhere in a drug induced fog. Pain dimly lined the edges of his consciousness, keeping him from fully waking, but at the same time it was what he wanted. With joggled memories, off balanced sensors, and listless dreams Greg couldn't tell for certain what was imagined, or worse, what was real.
He remembered waking with incredible thirst. His throat was so dry in hurt to breathe, and a light sheen of sweat drenched his forehead and arms. Even through a clouded mind he could tell he was running a fever as his eyes darted about the room incoherently. There was a straw pressed to his lips and he drank greedily without question, protesting when the refreshing liquid was taken away. He couldn't really argue however; the short amount of time spent awake was already draining him of his energy.
This time he did sleep. Knew that he did because it seemed like only seconds, and yet he felt more than ready to leave the dreaded hellhole upon waking. The IV burned his arm where it was inserted, making it itch to the point where it was red and slightly swollen. The morphine drip took away most of the pain but at the same time made him incredibly queasy. And thirsty…
He glanced around the room, noting with distaste the picture of water was clear on the other side. There was no way he could reach it under his own power, and the last thing he wanted was another nurse fussing over him and pampering him like a child. He still had his pride after all.
Instead he leaned back against the pillows, staring straight ahead at the blank wall. You would think that hospital would spend at least a small portion of their income on livening up the place. Medical bills were by no means cheap; someone had to be raking in the money, right?
His mind burned with needed questions. He wanted so much to know if what had happened before had been merely a dream, a wanted hope, or if there was some sort of truth in it. He was afraid to ask; waiting was tantalizing, but at least he could pretend. Knowledge could be a petty thing sometimes, for Greg though, it could be a devastating blow.
The concern…the concern in her eyes…it had been all too real. That he hadn't been able to miss. Sara could lie as much as she wanted, but she could not fabricate falsified emotions. At least this was what he told himself. Perhaps it was because he wanted it so much. Not just wanted…needed. He needed it to be that way.
He glanced towards the door as it opened, surprised confusion filling his face. It wasn't that he didn't expect visitors; he just didn't expect to see this particular person. Especially concerning what his state was supposed to be.
"Grissom?"
The older man looked pleasantly surprised, nodding towards his statement as he wandered in, selecting a chair that was not too far away from the bed.
"I'll be the first to admit, it's good to see you up," the scientist mentioned, leaning back against the chair.
Greg merely blinked, dazed eyes studying the other man, trying to form a logical solution in his mind. After a moment he let out a meek smile, more to the satisfaction of knowing than to acknowledge Grissom's comment. There was no doubt now; it had been a dream. A nightmare…whatever it was, it was over.
"Is the lab slow?" Greg wondered out of curiosity, trying to keep the morbid excitement out of his voice.
"Why would you ask that?" It was Grissom's turn to wonder now, his gaze falling over the young man's form intensely, but after a moment it lightened as he continued as though he had never stopped. "We're actually quite busy, we have three open cases, and with you currently residing in the Desert Palms Hospital it's a bit hard to keep up."
"I'm sorry that I'm at an inconvenience," Greg grumbled quietly, feeling slightly dissatisfied. He knew Grissom expected a lot from him; the man expected a lot from all his workers, but this seemed to be pushing things beyond the normal limits of fairness. He was stuck in the hospital after all, what exactly was he supposed to do?
"You put yourself in a lot of danger, you should have known better."
"What?" Greg questioned, frowning as he did so, "I should have known that he would have a gun? That he was going to shoot me? If I knew that I wouldn't have gone." Did the man honestly believe he had suicidal intentions?
"You were instructed by your supervisor not to go," Grissom reminded him coldly.
"Actually I never told him that he couldn't."
Greg glanced up hopefully to the doorway, smiling timidly as Sara made her way in. He could always count on her to show up at the right time. One of those being now, and he could see Grissom shift uncomfortably, obviously not too thrilled to see her here.
"Sara, you'll have to wait outside while I question him," the man started, surprise etching his face as she refused. "I'm not giving you a choice," Grissom frowned, his gaze stern.
"I never told him that he couldn't go," she ignored his last statement, wandering in till she was standing at the foot of the hospital bed. Her fingers wrapped around the bar as she leaned against it. "Just that I rather him not to."
"Which is the same as instructing," Grissom took the time to point out.
"I gave him a choice," she argued, "Not a command."
"When we work as a team, we need to listen as a team."
"Enough!"
Greg let out a sigh, closing his eyes. He was tired alone from the exchange, but he certainly did not need anyone arguing over his actions. After a moment he drew in a sigh, relishing in the short silence.
"I made a mistake," he admitted quietly. "I paid for it. There's no need to try and find someone to place the blame on."
For a moment the room was silent, and Greg had hoped that it had all been enough. He kept his eyes closed, feeling the drugs slowly take control over his system. Even though he had yearned for the contact since the previous night, he now found himself wishing that he was alone. It was bad enough that he was in the hospital, but now knowing that he would have to answer up to the consequences of his actions made him queasy. Disgusted he let out a sigh, shifting lightly and groaning at the sharp pain as he did so.
As a hand touched his shoulder he worked his eyes back open, smiling bleakly at the brunette that was watching him closely. After a moment she returned the smile, and then eased up as she moved back.
"You're right," she told him with a nod, her gaze moving to Grissom. "We shouldn't be trying to find someone to blame. We have our guys in custody, they are the ones that are responsible, and it should end there."
"However," Grissom's tone cut through Greg's short moment of relief, and the former lab tech turned his gaze to watch him as he spoke. "It does not excuse Greg from a formal investigation. It's protocol; without it, our killers will walk away with a reduced sentence."
"Then I will do the investigation," Sara cut in, her gaze becoming stern as Grissom moved to disagree. "It is my case," she stated firmly, "I was Greg's supervisor."
He considered his options for a moment, knowing full well as being both their supervisors, he had the authority to pull her from the case and complete it himself. He knew that if he did it himself there was a better chance it would stand up in court, yet he also knew that if he denied Sara this request things would turn out to be much more complicated.
With a resolved breath he moved to his feet, handing her the folder file before he made his way out of the room. It wasn't until the door was shut safely behind him that Sara moved to occupy the now empty chair, after scooting it closer to the bed. She set the file on the small table off to the side, her gaze solely focused on Greg.
"How are you feeling?"
So it wasn't exactly protocol, but Greg wasn't going to complain. He gave her a small smile to show that he was okay, but refrained from speaking, worried that his voice would betray his true state. He wasn't entirely okay, still shaken from his past encounters that he was now writing off as dreams. The only problem that remained was the fact that it seemed so real; and the very reason that he was here now.
"The doctors say you can go as early as tomorrow. They want you to get at least a week of rest before coming back to work; longer if you can spare it. I'll do my best to see how much time I can give you."
"I'd rather go back," Greg stated quietly, already knowing that a full week of doing nothing would drive him out of his mind. If he stayed home any longer he surely would go crazy.
"You need your rest," Sara reminded him, but grinned at her own comment once seeing his dull expression. It was uncomfortable for a moment, the silence stretching across the room until Greg ventured to break it, wanting desperately to know.
"What happened?"
"You were shot," she said remorsefully, her eyes turning away as she explained. "You were hit twice, there was a third bullet lodged in your car. We assumed that if it had hit its intended target, you would have died."
"I already assumed I should have," he paused here, taking in a breath. "That's the part I don't understand."
Sara smiled and to his surprise laughed a little too. "I told you Greg, I didn't want you to go alone. I was five minutes behind you, already calling backup as I arrived. There was an ambulance not too far from where you were injured, and they responded right away. You spent almost ten hours in surgery; doctors were telling us it was fifty/fifty. You lost a lot of blood."
"Any lasting effects?"
She made a face, considering the question for a moment. "Physically…no."
"You think I'm crazy?" Greg raised an eyebrow, finishing the thought for her.
"You were talking crazy last night," she replied softly with a nod. "Doctors say you had some head trauma…but that it shouldn't have affected you like that. You're awake, and alert. You know what's happened….I don't know what to say."
"It was all a dream…" he muttered, turning away. Sara's perplexed look encouraged him on and he cleared his throat, repeating his earlier statement. He already knew that Sara wouldn't let it go there, and so he continued after another pause.
Time never seemed to pass by so slowly, and yet as he finished Greg was surprised to see how much time had actually gone by. Sara's mood was hard to judge, silence being her biggest feature. She watched him for a moment, then moved to speak.
"It couldn't have been that bad," she reasoned, thrown off as Greg chuckled.
"You were horrid," he croaked, only realizing then exactly what he was saying. He gave her an apologetic smile, reforming his words quickly. "I mean, you…you were great as a person, as a…a leader…it's just as…"
"A girlfriend," Sara finished for him, "I was horrible as a girlfriend."
"Well…not entirely," he protested, coming to a stop as he thought it over. "It was just…"
"I wasn't a good person," Sara concluded, shrugging her shoulders. "That's all there is to it."
"It wasn't like that…" Greg swallowed, now feeling guilty for ever bringing it up. Vivid images of the Sara he had known for a short while plagued his mind and he could only worry what was too come. Surprise, of course, etched his face as she chuckled, reaching over to grasp his hand.
"Greg…listen to us. We're fighting over a dream."
He couldn't help but blush as he realized the truth to this, smiling in return as she brought his hand up to her lips. "That was just a dream…this?" She paused with a smile, leaning in towards him with a gentle kiss.
"This is real life."
The End