Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.
JRR Tolkien
…
The idea of going back to work seemed to be a bittersweet phenomena for Sara. She had taken five extra days than the rest of the graveyard shift, working out paperwork, settling Lauren into a semi-regulatory routine. She came into work one day after dropping Lauren off at kindergarten, to clean out Nick's locker. Grissom had told her that she didn't have to do it, but she insisted, taking the cardboard box he offered her. Grissom started to go after her, but Greg cut him off, gesturing that he would take care of it, following her into the locker room.
Sara paused by Nick's locker, running her hand along the smooth metal, before cradling the lock in her fingers, and spinning the dial. He watched her steel herself, a common sight in the last two weeks since the shooting, and tug at the lock, and finally swinging the metal door open. She smiled tenderly, taking in the contents of Nick's personal space. His locker was a timeline of his life, jumbled up in a knot. The photos on the inside of the door, she observed, were mostly pictures of Lauren, in her various stages of infancy and toddlerhood, including her preschool graduation photo, Taken just last spring. Those photos were taped to a few of the night shift, before the initial separation, a sonogram photo, and a few pictures of Nick and Warrick, or Nick and Greg, working scenes or evidence. She picked off a photo of them together, a few weeks after she had moved in, before she was showing with Lauren. She remembered him taking that photo, he had assaulted her with affection after a tiring shift, and had held the camera out at arms length, snapping a picture of their kiss. She had smacked him hard, and then pushed the camera out of his hand, freeing it to do other, unmentionable things.
"You coming back Monday?" Greg leaned casually against Warrick's locker, hands in his pockets. It was his way of asking her if she was alright, how she was holding up, coming into the lab for the first time since running out of it when the nurse in the ER called. She smiled at him briefly, prying the tape off of the metal of the locker, and tugging at the photos, some of which had been there for thirteen years, like the tattered photo of Maverick, his golden retriever who had moved with him to Vegas from Texas when he joined Grissom's team, some of them from a few months ago, like the picture Lauren had taken of them goofing off in the kitchen.
"Yeah. Lauren's going to stay with Lindsey at Catherine's until I can figure something out. I put in a transfer to days, but there aren't any slots, I'm sure it will get denied. There's so much more shuffling now. It wasn't this hard with Nick. Here." She stepped back, dropping a few pictures into the box, and turning back to the locker. She picked out his toiletries, tossing them unceremoniously into the box, and shifted through a few CD's, dropping them beside the other contents. She piled in his half empty bottle of water, and dropped his collection of extra clothes into the box as well. Her eyes fell on his field vest, and she reached out to touch it softly. "Are you stopping by after shift?"
"Yeah, if you want me."
"If you aren't too tired. I'm mostly put together, I just can't sleep." Sara stopped tossing Nick's things into the box, and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, placing a hand on her hip.
"I'll come by. I haven't seen Lauren in what, 36 hours? I'm suffering from withdrawal. I won't be able to get out before I wrap this case though, I'm looking at tomorrow morning at the earliest." Sara nodded, smiling at his attempt to lighten the mood, and rubbed her delicate features with her hand before looking him straight in the eye.
"I'm sorry, I'm being really selfish. I can't get to sleep without you there. Stupid, I know." She turned back to the locker, ignoring the field vest, instead sweeping her hand over the top shelf of the locker, causing a waterfall of tiny objects to fall into the box, Tylenol, a baseball, a few stray batteries that had begun to leak acid, his tiny Maglight, cough drops, and a half used tube of toothpaste.
"It's not selfish. I'll be there. You can drop Lauren off at school, and then we'll work something out so you don't lose your sanity."
"What little I cling to these days." She bent, reaching to the bottom of Nick's locker, and extracted a pair of dress shoes, and a pair of hiking boots, nestling them into the contents of the box. "He was such an amazing man. Yet his entire life fits into a cardboard box. Depressing, really. We all just fit into boxes in the end."
"I intend on stuffing my cardboard box to its limits, then."
"Yeah, me too." Sara had stripped Nick's locker of its contents, save the field vest that hung all by itself.
"I get to keep his vest, right?" Sara touched Nick's vest again, pulling it carefully from its hanger. She folded it in her hands, running her fingers over his name on the right breast.
"Yeah. It's yours." She nodded, taking a deep breath to avoid falling the tears in her eyes. She reached to the back hook of Nick's locker, and extracted the forensics baseball cap he always wore when working a scene during daylight hours. Turning it over in her hands, she placed the cap on top of the neatly folded vest, closing the empty locker with a soft click, and turned to face Greg again.
"Thanks, Greg." He nodded, and made no motion to stop her as she made to exit the locker room.
"I'll see you after I finish here."
"Alright." She paused, beside him, and leaned in, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, for a mere second. "Thank you." He threw her a small smile, and followed her out of the locker room, parting ways with her as he headed toward the layout room, and she to the parking lot.
………
Hours later, Greg found himself dragging his feet to the Sidle-Stokes front stoop, pushing his own key into the lock, and entering of his own free will. He was pummeled with the scents of homemade cooking, and his heart swelled when he heard Lauren giggle in the kitchen. He dropped his bag, and hung up his coat, and made his way into the kitchen.
"Uncle Greg! Mumma said you were coming. We made omelets like Daddy used to make. Look, this one's for you." Lauren met Greg over the threshold of the kitchen, hugging his waist tightly.
"Thanks, Lauren." He arched his eyebrow at the little girl, who squeezed ketchup onto the eggy mass of omelet she had placed at a place at the table.
"Dad said everything is better with ketchup."
"Brush your teeth, baby. It's almost time for school." Sara spoke quietly, from her place leaning against the counter, and Lauren obliged instantly, leaning up to kiss Greg's cheek as he sat down before disappearing around the corner and up the stairs.
"She's doing much better."
"Yeah. She's more focused on getting back to school, she needs some form of a routine. You don't have to eat that, ugh Greg." She smiled softly, half amused, half disgusted, as Greg took a bite of the omelet Lauren had made. She laughed at the face he made, and inwardly, he was thankful he was able to get such a positive reaction out of her. He pushed away the rest of the omelet, and stood to take the cup of coffee Sara poured for him. He was careful not to let his fingers linger over hers, give her space. She leaned over on her elbows, on the counter top, sipping from her own mug, inches away from him. They drank their coffee in silence, listening to Lauren's little feet pattering around between the bathroom and her bedroom, getting ready for the school bus that was going to take her the six blocks to the elementary school at the end of the street. Having her ride the school bus had been Nick's idea, he had argued that it built independence, and that after all, it was only six blocks. Sara had allowed Lauren to ride the bus, just to get Nick off her case.
"How are you feeling about sending her to school?"
"I hate that she rides the damn bus. I hate that bus, I told Nick I didn't want her on that bus. She's only five years old." Sara stared down into her mug, focusing on the swirls of brown liquid lightened with a smattering of cream.
"I'll take her."
"You don't have to, Greg, that's crazy, she usually takes the bus." She took a long sip, and set the mug down on the counter.
"No, I want to. Six blocks is enough time with Las Vegas traffic to listen to all of 'Brown Eyed Girl.' Gives you ten minutes to gather your sanity without having to put up a front." Sara smiled faintly, and nodded.
"Alright. Thank you." He flashed her a reassuring smile, and drained his mug, setting it in the sink, and exited the kitchen, making his way to the foot of the stairs.
"Hey Lauren, how about I drive you to school?" Sara rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm as she listened to her daughter call back an affirmative, and make her noisy way down the stairs. She hastily wiped a few tears from her eyes as Lauren came around the corner, arms outstretched, waiting for a hug. Sara bent, gathering her daughter in her arms, pressing a kiss to her head as Lauren hugged her back tightly. Sara didn't let go for a few moments, and soon Lauren was squirming out of her grasp.
"Mumma, Uncle Greg's gonna drive me to school, but you gotta let me go first."
"Right, right. Sorry. Have a nice day, baby."
"Bye Mumma." Lauren scampered back to Greg, and took his hand, leading him to the front door, picking up her pink little backpack, and dragging Greg out the door.
"I'll be right back." Greg smiled back at her, and she waved as they disappeared out the front door.
Sara glanced at the photo of her and Nick, taken, incidentally, by Greg, right after Lauren was born. Lauren lay cradled in Sara's arms, fingers of one hand wrapped tightly around Nick's finger. He had just turned form Lauren, and had caught her in a kiss, and the photo showed the smile that had crept over Nick's features, as they glanced at each other briefly before turning back to the crying baby in Sara's arms.
She was relieved to have Greg around, he was a consistent source of strength, and he was caring and loving to Lauren, stepping into Nick's vacant shoes one task at a time. She didn't know whether to be angry with him for picking up where Nick left off, or to comforted that he was around so much. Years ago he had incessantly flirted with her, before she got pregnant with Lauren. In the years since she and Nick had moved in together, and had the baby, Greg's jovial pick up lines, and playful, suggestive banter had waned, and in its stead, she found a companionable friendship, strengthened by their complimenting work styles. She loved Greg, but she wasn't completely okay with him in their space. She had asked him to come, though. Sara sighed heavily, placing a hand on her stomach to quiet its uneasy churning. She was not going to have him take Nick's place, but she didn't want him to leave. The tug of war she was having with herself wasn't fair to Greg, it was just a matter of working it out with him. She took a deep breath as she heard him open the front door, and let himself in.
"Hey. Lauren's been safely delivered. I'm not on the pick up list, though, so you'll have to get her." He sat down beside her, leaving a foot or so of room between them. "What's the matter, Sara?" Sara took a minute to respond, seemingly choosing her words wisely.
"I don't know what to do about this." She waved her hand in the space between them, pinching the bridge of her nose. Greg leaned forward on his knees, unsure of what to say.
"Us. You. Here. You here so much. You can't replace him, Greg, no matter how hard you try."
"I know that. Listen, if this is about taking Lauren to school, I just wanted to help, you hate the school bus."
"It's not just that," she paused. "I don't know, forget it."
"No, speak your mind." She glanced at him briefly, he had turned from her, and was staring at the area rug on the floor.
"I just, I don't know, I'm scared, Greg, I don't know what to do."
"Let me help you."
"We aren't your problem, Greg. We aren't your responsibility." He winced at acid quality of her voice, the ice in her words. She stood, pacing only just, wrapping a hand around her midsection.
"I never said you were. You and Lauren-"
"You aren't her father!" Sara raised her voice, startling Greg. He immediately went on the defensive, standing to look her in the eye.
"Don't you think I know that?" Greg's voice was steady, dangerously quiet. She watched him trying to keep his emotions under wraps, trying to hide the hurt in his eyes, and mostly succeeding. He stepped closer to her, and for a brief second, Sara wanted nothing more than to hug him and apologize, for everything she had said. "Don't you think I'm reminded that I could have had that night off, every time I look at Lauren, with her Nick Stokes hair, and her Nick Stokes eyes, and her Nick Stokes smile, and her Nick Stokes laugh? Don't you think she's a constant reminder of how much I'm not her father? How much I will never be her father? Nick, Nick is her father, Nick will always be her father, nothing will ever change that."
"I do love you, Greg, I really do."
"What do you want me to do, Sara? I can leave, you obviously don't want me to stay."
"Greg, I-"
"Tell me what you want, Sara, I'm exhausted, I worked a triple homicide by myself last night."
"I-I just want everything back to normal. I'm a mess, Greg, I don't know what to do." She wiped her tears away roughly, looking up at him. Greg had crossed his arms over his chest, gaze still fixated on the floor.
"What do you want me to do, Sara?"
"I don't know. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't keep anything down, I've been jittery, everything's been making me nauseous. I don't know what to tell Lauren anymore, I don't know how to handle Nick's parents-"
"Everyone is worried about you, Sara."
"I know, I know, Warrick wasn't sleeping either, but he's been going home to Catherine, Catherine's called, and stopped by, Grissom-"
"Do you want Grissom, Sara? I can get him, I'll take his cases, he can come-"
"No. No, I just, I'm at my wits end." She rubbed her stomach, fighting the nausea that had set on suddenly. "I don't know where to go from here. Nick's parents want to take Lauren to Texas, but I can't leave her, and I can't leave the lab, I'm scared they'll sic Social Services on me, single mother working nights in the City of Sin. She's a lawyer and he's a judge, I'm going to lose her."
"You aren't. They can't take her like that. You're her mother."
"I just don't know what to do, Greg, I'm lost without him." She sat down in Nick's chair, holding her head in her hands. Greg made no motion comfort her, leaving the distance between them as it was.
"You break my heart when you cry, Sara." He whispered.
"Greg-"
"He's not coming back, Sara."
"I know that."
"This is not what he wanted for you."
"Greg-"
"He's gone, Sara, nothing can change that." Sara's tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them away, childishly wiping them from her cheeks. She let out a sob, and Greg's heart shattered again.
"I know that." She gripped her stomach, running a panicked hand through her curly hair. He watched her carefully, as she recomposed herself, and stood again, having caught her balance.
"I can do a lot of things, Sara, I just can't bring him back. I wish that I could, I would do it in a heartbeat. I'd trade places with him in an instant, Sara, because you need him more than you need me, Lauren needs him more than she needs me."
"Greg-"
"She needs her mother, too, Sara. Don't slip away from her."
"Gregory, I-" Sara fell silent, realizing she had nothing to articulate. She didn't deserve such a loyal friend. Here she was pushing him away, and he was there, pushing his way back to her. "I'm sorry. I was out of line." Her voice dropped to the defeated, weary, apologetic quality it had held for weeks now. Greg said nothing, running a hand through his shaggy hair. There was silence, as the clock on the mantle chimed nine o'clock in the morning, the bright morning Nevada sun shining in through the windows. It was Greg who broke the silence, barely audible, a soft whisper.
"You're pregnant, aren't you?"
Her silence was a good enough answer for him.
………
A/N: I know I had said I was going to get Sara back in the lab in this segment… but this just flew in a completely different direction. Sorry to leave you hanging. More to come, soon. Scout's honor.