Finally Chapter 2 is ready and none to soon. I only have one more day to complete and upload the final chapter before the GSR Forever Online Challenge is over! I'd better get cracking.

With heartfelt thanks here's to everyone who read and reviewed Chapter 1. Thanks a bunch!


Chapter 2

Easing open the front door to Grissom's home, Sara led him inside, holding onto his arm as she locked the door. Tossing the keys onto the small table there, she guided him through the dark toward the bedroom. Setting him down on the edge of the bed, she then headed into the bathroom and flipped on the light.

The ride home from the hospital had been quiet, Grissom slipping once again into sleep as she drove, his hand never leaving hers where he'd entangled it when she'd entered the car. She was loath to remove it, taking great pleasure in the feel of his skin against hers. It would seem he needed her as she needed him even if it was just for now.

She thought back on all they'd been through, all the moments that promised more but never delivered, all the times he was soft and tender and then backed up out of reach. Someone had done a number on him, of that she was sure, and she obviously scared him. But lately he'd been changing and she could pinpoint the exact moment - Adam Trent.1

Recalling the look on Grissom's face - the terror in his eyes as he kept calling to the guard to open the door as Trent threatened to slit her throat – was something that came vividly back to her at odd times. Her fear had been magnified by the fact that she couldn't bear the thought of Grissom seeing her die and have to relive the event, always remaining helpless to do anything about it. He'd slept on her couch that night in case she needed something. That alone rivaled the plant he'd sent her a few years before2 that still sat on her window sill with the card proudly displayed.

Now it was her turn to look after him in case he needed something.

"Where are you migraine meds?" she asked of him not hearing an answer. Poking her head out she repeated herself.

"It's too late," he muttered rubbing at his forehead.

"It's never too late," came her answer.

Those words . . . those words caught at his ears and made him turn seeing her silhouetted in the bathroom doorway. His bathroom doorway. Bloodshot blue eyes met tired brown ones and it was as if time stood still.

Grissom would never know if it was because of his burgeoning migraine or a sudden epiphany that seemed to make her glow as if the sun itself was shining upon her. All he would remember was the longing he'd been trying to hide all these years hid no longer and he didn't much care if the ground he was treading on was dangerous or not. All he cared about was what stood before him.

"My love, my life," he whispered closing his eyes, thinking on how she made him quiver each time she brushed past; how his eyes would find and stick with her as she worked a scene and her smile lit up his world. He was so tired of burying his feelings, of pushing her aside as if that would solve anything.

Should he take the chance and possibly get everything he ever wanted?

Did he dare or was his exhaustion making him think he could?

"Grissom? Meds?" came her voice again.

Startled out of his thoughts he cleared his throat. "Top drawer on the left," he answered.

Sounds of rummaging were soon followed by her standing beside him, pills and water in hand. Swiftly downing them, he gave her the empty glass and reached for his temples. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been this worn out, when his thoughts roamed where he tried not to go and had little success in drowning them out. Everyone was safe. The case was closed. Now all he had to do was sleep.

"Take me, Hypnos3," he mumbled, "and let me fade away into dreamless sleep."

"Did you say something?" she asked sitting next to him on the bed. He gave her a thin smile then shook his head not having the energy to explain himself.

Once again Sara dropped a hand onto his back, copying the slow circles she'd begun at the hospital, this time feeling his muscles begin to relax. Soon his hand found her leg as if that was all that was keeping him upright and she thought on how much she wanted to tell him of her love then wrap arms about him and never let go. But now was not the time. He was in a vulnerable state, haunted almost by recent events and she had no right to take advantage no matter how much she wanted to. And if she was smart, she knew she should fly from this room before she made the mistake of clouding up this quiet scene with confessions that could ruin everything. She wasn't very smart, at least at that very moment.

"Do you want to take a shower or change out of your clothes?" she found herself asking only to receive a shake of the head. "Then lie down," she ordered getting up to lightly push him backwards then help him to raise his legs, pulling off his shoes in the process. Dragging up the quilt from the end of the bed she laid it over him. "You need to sleep. You're exhausted."

"Sara . . ." came his breathy voice.

"Ssh, now," she gave back with a smile. Looking closely she could see his eyes begin to glisten and quickly raised a hand to his cheek as she sat back down.

"Gris . . ."

"I - I don't want to be alone," he admitted not able to stop the words from floating out into the air.

Her breath caught and her heart began to thud, then she swallowed. "You're tired," she quickly gave him and tried to pull her hand away as his came up and stopped her.

"I need you, Sara," he confessed keeping his eyes attached to hers, hoping to impress upon her the honesty behind these words. "I think I always have."

At that moment the love she had for this man overwhelmed her and she had to force herself to breathe. God, he was tired, in pain and defenseless. Would he regret all of this come morning? Would she?

"Sara?"

A warm smile touched her lips at the emotions playing across his face as he waited for anything from her. It was then she decided to take a chance, reached up and slowly moved fingers through his hair. The response was instantaneous as his eyes closed and she witnessed all the worry and anxiety that had crept upon him during this whole ordeal dissipate within the space of a second replaced with a single tear sliding down his face.

"I'm here," she whispered gently wiping it away. "I've always been here."

Grissom let go of a sigh at her declaration. She had always been there – coming when he called, staying around, and always waiting for him to make up his mind. And now she was here, here where he'd always wanted her to be and it was up to him to make it known he wanted her to stay forever. Wrapping fingers about hers, he pulled her hand to his chest wanting so to confess his soul to her with his words not someone else's. But trying to sift through everything that jumbled up his brain left him wanting. Right when he needed to speak from the heart, he could barely keep himself awake.

But then came a vague impression of movement and a shifting of weight on the bed and he clutched her hand even harder not wanting her to leave. As his eyes fluttered open he found her lying next to him, her face close to his, her other hand once again sifting through his hair.

"Sleep," she whispered

"Sara, I need . . ."

"You need to sleep," she finished for him taking hold of his other hand as he reached for her.

"Sara . . ." he tried again, his eyes slowly closing.

"All will look brighter the next time you wake."

"It already is," he whispered on a soft breath giving in to sleep only because he had no other choice.

Carefully, she touched his cheek with the back of her hand and shut her own eyes praying to whoever would listen that she wouldn't see any regret on his face when the sun rose or hear how sorry he was for taking advantage of her good nature.

Leaning in, she kissed his forehead, her lips but a whisper on his skin. "Let me love you like I've always wanted. I promise to keep your heart safe as I know you'll keep mine."

He stirred a bit and she noted a tug at the corner of his mouth but he didn't wake. Hopefully, he hadn't heard her. Even though it was her fervent hope that once she broke through his nearly impenetrable barriers he would let her love him, she could never say something like that to his face without stammering and turning every shade of red. Not yet anyway.

But he'd said he needed her.

Was this her chance? Would she have Nick to thank for making him take the leap?

A smile came to her just before she, too, drifted into sleep.

csicsicsicsi

It's dark and I'm knee deep in dirt.

Damn, not again!

Clawing at the dirt, anger rips at me and I attack it with a vengeance. I know what I'm looking for this time and find it quickly. The broken piece practically leaps into my hands and the lid is off.

But it's empty! Empty!

Oh, my God! Sara!

The darkness keeps me from seeing any farther than a few feet.

Sara!

It's never too late.

I spin.

Sara? Sara, where are you?

Silence meets me. I know those words. I whirl about in the thick air.

Sara?

It's okay. I've got you.

More words, more memories as the air changes, clears, lightens as vibrations work their way to me, vibrations that become what I've always wanted to hear.

I'm here. I've always been here.

It will all look brighter the next time you wake.

Let me love you like I've always wanted.

I'll keep your heart safe

heart safe . . .

safe . . .

". . . safe," tripped out of Grissom's mouth as he opened eyes to a darkened space.

He blinked furiously, not able to see much past his nose, smelling of fresh turned dirt and nervous sweat. His heart pounded. He'd been digging in the dirt, trying to get to Nick . . . no . . . Sara and then he heard her all around him but couldn't see her.

The urge to move overwhelmed him and he came up fast when the need to stop this nonsense attacked him as an intense burning ache flared within every possible sinew in his body stealing his breath away. Gasping, he could do nothing else but ease himself back, driving away the mere idea of trying that again until he could get the grimace off his face and unclench his teeth long enough to swallow properly.

What was that?

As the bright colors of pain slowly began to subside, it came to him, an indistinct recollection of a doctor telling him he would more than likely hurt tomorrow, or was it today, filled his head.

Today.

Today was Sunday or . . . yeah, Sunday, and yesterday . . . Yesterday was done. And it had been the worst yesterday ever until . . . until the pieces fit and Nick was safe.

That had been a good end for yesterday.

Gradually, his jaw relaxed and his heart stopped racing and the darkened space about him took on the familiar trappings of his bedroom. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed.

And then came another sigh.

He tensed then sucked in a breath as he felt a hand move against his belly followed by hot breath fanning across his neck causing him to shiver. Frowning, he warily glanced over his shoulder then quickly back.

Sara.

What the . . ?

The hand that had rubbed his forehead moved across his face as he looked down. He was dressed and so was she and her arm was draped over his side, her hand clutched within his own and it felt . . . Well, it felt natural as if it had always been. Desperately he strove to clear the cotton from his head and dredge up how this had happened. There had to be a reason they were both in bed, in his bed. Calming himself, he tried to think which seemed awfully hard at present.

They'd been at the scene. He'd watched the ambulance pull away. Then there was the hospital, he'd seen Nick and held him. And then he was home and Sara . . . Sara was everywhere and all he wanted was to touch her, hold her, and keep her close just as she was now.

And then he heard his own voice echoing within a memory and brows rose.

"I need you."

Eyes grew wide at the words.

Had he actually done it?

He shook his head at the idea of saying . . . and he heard it again. A hand closed over his mouth as the truth struck him like a flat rock upside the head. He'd finally done it. Finally. And what had been the outcome? He glanced over his shoulder again. She'd stayed. Giddiness overcame him at the thought that he'd actually taken the step he should've taken long ago . . . and she'd stayed not run away into the night as he'd always feared.

By God she'd stayed.

Now feeling her against his back, he could've died right there and been pleased with himself for all eternity. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb and contemplated all he would say upon her waking when she moved and her hand slid from his as she rolled away. Peeking over his shoulder he followed her movements as she settled onto her back, a fleeting frown soon followed by a passing resemblance to a smile appearing on her face. And then he was smiling, too, a big dumb smile that he couldn't seem to stop and wondered if he should wake her. Shoving away that thought he refused to break the spell for what would greet him when she woke?

If she hadn't meant to stay would she be embarrassed?

What if waking to find him staring at her would be too much?

What if . . .

"Let me love you."

Those words bounded into his brain next and brows flew up even further. He glanced back again. She was still asleep but it was her voice in his head. He scowled and pursed his lips as he fought to find and hold onto whatever was skulking in the shadows that made those words familiar. He couldn't stand this lack of focus that seemed to consume him, keeping him from knowing if what he was remembering was true or not. Surely he wouldn't have made up such a thing.

Would he?

He'd wanted it for so long; maybe this was his fatigued mind's idea of a joke or simply wishful thinking. Chiding himself for assuming anything he now wondered if he'd misinterpreted everything. But how could he misinterpret the fact that she was here, lying in his bed right next to him? A low growl burbled in his throat as hands covered his face. Too much thinking on too little sleep was never good. He sighed then brightened a bit. She was right next to him, lying there, asleep. She'd never know if he turned over and just looked at her and he so wanted to just look at her.

Resolve filled him to tempt the pain gods once again and he grit his teeth, moving as quickly as he could before lancing cries of stretched muscles dropped him onto his pillow effectively muffling his wheezing pants. She moved and his eyes quickly darted to her sleeping form.

Please don't wake up.

She resettled and he relaxed taking his time now to gaze at her.

She looked different asleep – all the worries of the day gone, her skin smoothed out to no longer pucker with anxiety and doubt that a typical day at work could bring. She looked as he remembered her all those years before when he'd first laid eyes on her as she rattled off question after question, drawing him to her like a moth to flame. It was then he'd fallen in love with her and started his long battle denying it.

But no longer. He'd told her he needed her and she'd stayed.

Plucking up the courage from somewhere, he reached out, his hand moving toward the wayward wisp of hair that lay across her face. Easing it back into place, he reluctantly pulled back to stop himself from drawing her to him and holding on tight. Instead he watched as her mouth parted slightly and let out a chuff of air before closing causing him to smile once again. He didn't know why he responded so and didn't much care. All he knew was for the first time in a long time he felt . . . happy.

Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he leaned in close. "You have my heart," he whispered, the words lazily drifting over her as she slept. "You always have and always will."


1 Adam Trent – a character from the Season 5 episode "Committed"

2 Grissom sent Sara a plant in the Season 2 episode "Burden of Proof". The card simply said "Grissom"

3 Hypnos is the Greek God of sleep


Chapter 3 will be up tomorrow. Thanks again to all who read this and like it!