Chapter XXVI

I Can Explain

It was, for the few members of hotel staff, the two Sheriff's deputies and Alex, quite a sight. Anyone from the crime lab could have told them it was a rather regular occurrence, but seeing was believing. The two women with only a few space between them, were facing off like two gladiators on the brink of their fight to the death. There was power in their eyes, flickering blue and brown-gone-black, both full of fury bubbling just under the surface. Of all the things Sara expected, of all the responses she could have imagined, what actually came out of Catherine's mouth had never crossed her mind. It blew her away, and for a moment, she thought she might have had a little too much to drink. When Catherine broke the silence and spoke, all eyes were on her. She had the room's attention, and those who knew her, knew that was just how the woman would have wanted it. Her voice was glacial and sharp enough to bring blood.

"We're here to escort Miss Dupree in for questioning; she's a person of interest."

Sara looked from Catherine to Alex, then back again, not quite believing what she'd heard. Catherine looked determined; her face a professional mask that only barely covered the flickers of temper beneath it. Alex, on the other hand, looked genuinely surprised. She shrugged at Sara before the woman turned back around. Sara couldn't quite snap the scene into proper focus. It was like staring at a microscope slide under the wrong power. Did Catherine think she was stupid? Surely not.

"A person of interest?" Sara uttered the phrase and tasted the bitter dregs of it on her tongue. What the hell was Catherine trying to pull? Did she think this kind of bullshit was funny? Catherine, for her part, looked smug as she nodded. Sara hated that particular expression on the blonde's face. It was the one she used when she pulled rank or convinced someone to agree with her over Sara. It wasn't a pretty look, but Catherine seemed to enjoy it immensely. The urge to punch her was coming back, stronger then ever. Despite her anger, Sara cleared her throat. "What case could she possibly be linked to, Catherine?"

The blonde CSI waited a beat, "The Device Killings."

The words went off like a bomb, quickly rushing a line of fire through Sara's synapses and all the way down her spinal cord. She sputtered and felt like the wind had been sucked out of her lungs.

"W-what? Are you out of your damn mind?!" Her voice sounded creaky, like she was being slowly strangled. "That's impossible." Sara couldn't remember being so angry at Catherine before, in all the years she'd known her. The other woman had done and said many things, but this took the cake. Alex, had slowly stood up and was now at Sara's elbows, her eyes darting from Catherine to the khaki-clad deputies.

"What is she talking about, Sahara?" The super model's voice held a touch of fear and despite the years and the heartbreak, it chilled Sara. What was worse was that she had no answer for Alex, she didn't have a damn clue. She glared at Catherine, her teeth clenched, her jaw tight, to keep herself from verbally attacking her direct supervisor.

Catherine stood, cool as a cucumber, and waited. Sara could see that Catherine's jaws were held just as tight as hers and a delicate vein in her temple throbbed in pace with her pulse. "Did yourgirlfriend neglect to tell you that she's been very active in the Take Action Now Foundation? In fact, she's the co-founder and the current National Chairwoman of it? There's even a disturbing little website all about it."

Sara blinked, "Alex has been involved in Women's Causes since I met her. I don't see what that has to do with anything." She of course, did see exactly what that could mean. It didn't, however, excuse Catherine's behaviour. There were channels to go through and regulations. You just didn't burst in and ruin someone's breakfast da... meeting.

The other woman didn't even flinch. "Officers."

The two officers looked very uncomfortable. While neither liked taking orders from the CSIs, none wanted to anger either of the women. The younger Deputy held out his cuffs. "We're very sorry about this, Miss Dupree, CSI Sidle."

Somewhat deflated, Sara stepped away. "Cuff her in front, she won't cause any problems, David."

Deputy David Hembry did so and tried not to stare as Sara unbuttoned the black shirt. Ignoring Catherine, Sara spoke directly to the pale, speechless and now handcuffed Alex.

Because Sara knew exactly what was going through the other woman's head, she spoke to her quietly. "Alex, listen, I'm going to call your agent and they'll send a lawyer, then I'm going to come in and sort all of this out, okay?" Clad only in a black tank top, Sara pushed her shed shirt over Alex's hands to hide the cuffs.

The Officers led Alex away, but Catherine and Sara remained, glaring at each other.

Sara was livid. "A person of interest, Catherine? What, do you think she is, our killer?"

Catherine scowled, "You don't know the half of it, Sara."

Sara crossed her arms over her chest. "I doknow Catherine. I know Alex. She's not capable of that."

Catherine turned to leave. "You know her, like Grissom knows you, there's some pages missing in between huh?"

Before Catherine got three steps away, Sara grabbed her arm and pulled her back around. "I don't know what your problem is, but stop throwing Grissom in my face. That is private."

Catherine narrowed her eyes, "It's never private when you're fucking your boss and cheating on him to top it all. What is this some kind of payback for Lady Heather?"

Sara let go of Catherine's arm, "I don't-what-where-where do you come off. Listen, here's a newsflash for you. I'm not –" Sara's voice rose and echoed off the rounded walls, "fucking Grissom anymore. Not that it's any of your damn business, but I haven't even spoken to him outside of work in six months. Is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry I didn't send out a memo for everyone, but it's sort of a sore spot for me, being dumped. Getting dumped on my ass was great, of course it is a little fuzzy since I could barely hear his little speech over my own EKG."

Desert Palms Hospital

Medical Wing

Six Months Ago

"She's stabilized, Mr. Grissom.," Doctor Eric Burton reassured him. "Her arm will still require surgery, but for tonight we're going to leave it in the splint."

Gil Grissom ran his hand through his gray hair. "And the exposure, the dehydration, how bad is it?"

Dr. Burton smiled, "She is one tough young woman, I'll give her that. She came through this like a pro. We've got her on IV liquids and we're monitoring her vitals closely. Honestly, though, she covered her head and kept her wits about her and that was the best thing she could have done. Outside of a nasty first degree sunburn, some scrapes and her arm, Sara is going to be perfectly fine. I don't even think she'll have one single scar on her from this ordeal. The doctor followed Grissom's stormy blue eyes across the hallway and into the open door of Sara's private room. There were two deputies standing at the door; it was a sort of honor guard for the CSI who had survived a hellish night and day. "As you can see, she's been upgraded from ICU and her status is set as stable."

Relief flooded the older man and he sagged against the wall. "Thank you."

The doctor smiled, "Like I said, she was a trooper. Now I know there is a waiting room full of cops to see her, but we'll need to keep it short, no more than two at a time and only five minutes a piece. Visiting hours are over at seven, okay?" The doctor patted him on the shoulder and set off down the hall.

Gil Grissom just stared at the doorway for a while. The sun was setting outside the hospital room window and Sara's silhouette cast a shadow out into the hall. She was sleeping safe and sound. Sara was safe. She was alive, she was safe. He walked across the short hallway and into her room, repeating that mantra over and over in his head. There were flowers on nearly every flat surface. The biggest bunch, complete with balloons was from Greg, Nick and Warrick. The gifts and well wishes had come from as far away as Miami. Her kidnapping had made national news. Of course, CNN had come running when they thought the Miniature Killer, otherwise and less spectacularly known as Natalie Dell, had killed one of the investigators working on her case.

Killed, tried to kill. Sara could have just as easily ended up in a body bag as this hospital bed. Sara, his Sara could have died. She would have died alone in the desert, miles away from anyone who cared for her. All on the whim of an insane woman. All because he hadn't been able to solve the case. Natalie had come close, so incredibly close to getting away with it all. To beating the system, to outsmarting him, to taking away the only woman he'd ever allowed himself to truly love.

She looked peaceful, his Sara. Her hair, still gritty from her sojourn in the desert, lay curled in almost spirals in a dark halo spread across the sterile white pillow. Her face was pale beneath the sunburn and scratched, but still indescribably beautiful. She was peaceful, yet not at rest. Even in a sedated sleep there was a furrow in her brow, right above her nose, that signalled that there was something sinister lurking in her dreams. The demons she couldn't quite defeat, the horrors of her childhood and the hell she'd just been through. To him, she looked like a wounded angel. There were machines around her, monitoring her vitals. Sara's heartbeat, respiration, pulse, temperature. All the autonomic, thoughtless functions that kept his Sara alive were computerized, digitalized and recorded. There were IVs, one in each arm, feeding her liquids. Replenishing her after her brush with exposure, dehydration and death.

She was reaping the benefits of his failure. Natalie had wanted him to suffer, she'd succeeded. He had never known a pain as acute and sharp as this. It was unique and devastating. The knowledge that he'd had the information, the skills, the technology and the time to stop Natalie before she'd gotten to Sara ate at him like acid through metal. It was his fault that Sara was laying here. He had almost gotten her killed.

"Sara," He gripped the guard rail on her hospital bed and looked down at her. One hand released its desperate grip and moved down to brush a curl out of her face and pulled back suddenly, as if he'd been burned. "I-I am so sorry."

He stumbled over his own words. What was he supposed to say? How could he possibly make things alright? Did she even want him there? He had only seen her open her eyes once, in the helicopter. Had she even recognized him or had she only smiled because she realized she wasn't dead or hallucinating? It was, after all, his fault she'd been targeted. If he had only been able to control himself, to handle the case better, if only.

"It was a mistake Sara. I think we both know it. We were lucky this time and I don't know what I would do if there was a next time. I can't let there be a next time. We let our lives interfere with our jobs. I let myself relax, I think. Maybe if I had a clearer head, if I had all my attention on the case. It wouldn't have gone so far, it wouldn't have gone so wrong.

I dropped the ball on this one, and you're paying for it. That's not right. It's not fair to you." He closed his eyes, searching for the words he would need to say when she awoke.

He almost jumped when slender fingers covered his own bone white ones. "It's not your fault."

Her voice was raspy, like the grit and sand she'd been wading through all night and day, and pained, like the effort it took to speak was almost more than what she had. Gil Grissom opened his eyes and saw Sara, his Sara, looking up at him. Her liquid brown eyes were bloodshot, weary and only half open.

"Did you get her?"

He should have expected that question, it was after all, Sara. She licked her dry and cracked lips and winced, "Did you get her, Gil?"

He forced himself to nod. His head felt like it was full of lead and his neck was rigid, unbending steel. She smiled, which caused another place on her bottom lip to split. A ruby red drop of blood surfaced and then dropped to her chin. Sara winced and wiped it away, and stopped to stare at the back of her hand. It had an IV taped down to it.

"I really hate hospitals."

Gil nodded again and could almost feel a smile forming. "I know."

They were quiet for a moment, and Grissom walked around the bed to look out the window. Sara's room looked down on the hospital's inner courtyard and though he could not hear the bubbling, tinkling flow of water in the fountain from four stories up, he knew it would be soothing. "You could have died today."

He turned back around to see Sara shifting around in her bed. She had pushed the blanket aside and was moving her feet around. He could see her wince every time the smallest movement hurt her sore body. They dangled off the side of the bed, her bare feet couldn't touch the hospital's tile floor. She fought with the many tubes and wires as she moved.

"Well, I didn't and that psycho freak is off the streets. It sounds like you carried the ball over the line, Gil. You even got to save the damsel in distress."

He ran his hand over the back of his neck, how long had Sara been awake or at least able to hear and understand him? She was looking at her bandaged and slinged arm.

"Don't touch it, you still need surgery." She looked up, her eyes clearer than he'd originally thought.

"Plate and two screws, I know. Doctor No Relation To Tim Burton told me sometime between now and when you found me. The time line is still sort of fuzzy." She looked out the window. "Mr. Morphine and I never get along. Is today still today or is it tomorrow already?"

While Sara spoke, Gil moved the nearby straight-backed chair around to face her, so that when he sat, they would be eye to eye. "I didn't find you; Nicky and Sofia found you." He sat and though he wanted to take her hand, he was afraid he'd hurt her or upset the carefully placed IVs.

Sara licked her lips again, "Well, remind me to thank them, but it doesn't matter. You were the one I saw when I came to. I saw you and knew that everything was going to be okay. It was a very Disney moment."

Gil could feel the weight of the words he had to say crushing him. "Sara, Honey." He paused for a moment and wished it didn't have to be this way. In his world, though, a world where lives hung in the balance and his decisions could mean the difference between life and death, there was no other choice. "We need to talk."

That stopped Sara cold. She stopped messing with the many wires that were attached to her, and she looked at him, eyes completely open now. "Go ahead."

He took a deep breath, "I can't do this."

Sara quirked her lips, which caused another place, on her top lip, to crack and bleed. "This?"

Gil folded his fingers into a steeple in front of him, to keep them from fidgeting. When he looked at Sara, all he could think of was seeing her, half dead in the desert. All he could hear was Natalie's haunting little ditty. It echoed over and over again in his head.

"I walked the desert all day. I dug out the Mustang she put you under, screaming your name. I felt my heart." He unsteepled his fingers and ran his hands over his face, "I swear Iskipped a beat when I found a hiker. He got caught in the storm and was half buried in a mudslide. For a minute I thought it was you and my world just... shattered. I followed your trail and the whole time all I could think of... The only thought that kept running through my mind. It was -- is my fault. I had everything right in front of me, but I didn't figure it out. I don't know, maybe I wasn't totally focused or I just –"

He shook his head. "I can't be with you and do my job too. Every single night, you pull on that flimsy vest on and you take your kit out, and you put your life in my hands. I can't, I won't mess that up. I almost lost you, Sara. I couldn't live with myself if –"

His throat was threatening to close up and tears were burning at the back of his eyes. "You're okay, this time. What about the next time, though, and the time after that? What happens when its Warrick or Catherine or any of us? Greg was beaten within an inch of his life. Jim was shot. You and Nick were kidnapped and we damn near didn't get to either of you in time. Holly Gribbs died. I won't risk you, Sara, not aga –"

"Gil. Gil. Grissom." Her words finally cut into his monologue. He could tell by looking at her that she wanted to stand, she wanted to pace. Her voice was like hot, still forming glass, rough and as hot as the sun.

"You are not omnipotent. We, that's all of us including me, know the dangers. Unless you forgot, Grissom. I was the one who was kidnapped, I fought and almost got away. I was the one under that Mustang. I walked the desert and left you a trail to follow. I go in every night knowing that I might not go home again. We're not cops, but we still protect and serve. We do our jobs and that puts a bulls-eye on all of our backs. Or did you forget your little face off with the Strip Strangler. What if Catherine hadn't have come to that basement when she did? Hell Gil, you could walk out of this hospital and get hit by a car, or die from a toxic bag of chocolate candy or get a wooden railroad tie through the skull. It's a crazy world out there, if you haven't noticed. I thought us being together made the world make sense. Made the craziness just a little easier to bare. It made the Natalies of the world a little less frightening."

He wasn't looking at her anymore and she could see tears in his eyes. There were tears, hot and salty, in hers too. Neither of them would let the tears fall.

"This is it, isn't it?"

He nodded.

Sara's voice began to crack and wobble. "How noble of you. The great Gilbert Grissom turns his back on love so he can be a better CSI. The only way to keep me safe is to leave me." She stood and started to leave.

"It's not like that and you know it. I can't keep you safe when I'm with you. I love you, more than anything, and that's why I'm doing this."

Sara stared at him, a tear starting to escape her eye. "I can't believe this."

He only shrugged, "This is how it has to be." He walked away, but paused at the door. "If, when there's an inquiry."

Sara twisted around in bed, the monitors beeped off alerts that her blood pressure and pulse were rising too quickly, "When Ecklie comes sniffing around with his bitchy little questions I'll tell him the truth. That it was a short moment of insanity, that it's over."

Grissom was almost out the door, he could see a nurse rushing down the hall to check on her patient and her soaring stats, when her voice stopped him one more time.

"I wish I were like you, Gil. I wish I didn't feel anything either." She pulled in a breath and looked away from him, out the window. "Good night, Doctor Grissom."

He stayed at the door, lingering for one moment more, watching his Sara. "Goodnight, Sara."

Sara watched Catherine, just as she'd watched Grissom, leave the room. Of course the circumstances were completely diffrint but the result was exactly the same. "God, I need a ciggerete."