Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Big, big thanks to Mingsmommy for the quickie beta. And thank you for still reading this story. I haven't forgotten about it;)

Moments

by Kristen Elizabeth

Sara couldn't sit still. Every part of her body screamed at her to do something, anything. She had to move, but she couldn't. She was trapped in the passenger's seat of her own car, helpless to do anything but tap her foot and wring her hands. Grissom hadn't even let her get behind the wheel, something she was still mad at him about. Having control over the vehicle might have made the entire situation more bearable for her. But judging by the way her hands were shaking, maybe her husband had been the better choice of driver.

She felt him glance over at her, but she turned her head to look out the window. "Sara," he finally said. "He's going to be fine."

"You don't know that," she snapped back, biting off each word. "He could be…" She bit her lip hard enough that it brought tears to her eyes. "Why wouldn't they tell us anything on the phone?!"

Grissom shook his head, and when she finally glanced at him, she saw his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Sara closed her eyes. "I don't understand how this happened at all," she whispered. "He was supposed to be at Jason's house."

"Let's just…not ask questions now." He turned into the parking garage of Desert Palm Hospital. "Let's just make sure he's all right."

As soon as the car stopped moving, Sara was out of it. She barely waited for him to lock the doors before she took off running towards the ER entrance.

They burst through the doors, and together they accosted the woman at the front desk.

"Our son," Sara said between gulps of air. "He's here. We need to see him. Now!"

Grissom was a little more coherent. "Samuel Grissom. We were told he was brought here."

After a quick search on her computer, she nodded. "He's in Exam 4." She gestured at an orderly. "Mike will take you back to see him."

Exam 4 was little more than a curtained-off area. Sara tried to take that as a good sign. Surely if his life was in danger, they would put him in a room with actual walls.

When the curtain was drawn aside, she almost stopped breathing. Because the first thing she saw was blood. "Sammy…"

Their thirteen year-old son turned his head when he heard his name. Half of his face was streaked with the stuff from a wide laceration along his hairline. He held his left arm at a very awkward angle against his chest; it was obviously broken. He had some scrapes and he would probably be black and blue for a long time, but he was alive.

He looked at his parents with wide eyes. "Mom…Dad." His lower lip trembled. "I'm sorry!"

All Sara could do was shake her head as she reached for him. Mindful of his injuries, she held him as close and as tightly as she could.

Grissom cleared his throat. "What happened, Sammy?"

Fat tears mixed with the blood on their son's cheeks. He turned his face into Sara's neck, muffling his reply. "It was an accident!"

Sara could sense that her husband was trying his very hardest to remain calm, but he was hanging by a thread. He kept putting his hands in his pockets, only to take them out a second later…then decide a few seconds after that to put them back in again. "How did the accident happen?"

Just then, a doctor approached. "Samuel?" He nodded at the two adults. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Grissom. I'm Dr. Guevara. I saw Samuel when he first came in."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Grissom asked.

"Do you want to tell your parents?" The doctor gave their son a knowing look. "Or should I?"

Samuel lifted his head from his mother's shoulder. "Jason said it was okay…that his dad let him drive all the time." He paused for a breath. "I guess he meant just up and down the block, 'cause once we got on the road…he kind of didn't know what to do."

The doctor took over for him. "They ran a stop sign, and another car hit them. Jason lost control. According to the police, they would have crashed into something if Samuel hadn't grabbed the wheel and steered them in a soft ditch."

Sara tasted metal in her mouth as she accidentally bit down on the inside of her cheek. "Oh god…"

"You got in a car…driven by your thirteen year-old friend?" Grissom pushed his hands into his pockets. "How could you…" He stopped. "Do you have any idea how…"

His wife silenced him with a look. Still holding Samuel, she kissed his forehead. "You're safe, and that's what's important."

But Grissom wasn't quite ready to let it go. "Just where the hell were you trying to go, anyway?"

Samuel's reply was muffled by his mother's neck. Only Sara heard it clearly, and it made her close her eyes, as if to shut it out.

"What's that?" Grissom demanded. "Sammy?"

He twisted his head to see his father. "The body farm."

Father and son stared at each other for so long that the doctor finally cleared his throat. "We've thoroughly examined Samuel, and there's no internal bleeding. The laceration on his forehead isn't deep, and there's no outward sign of a concussion. His arm is fractured, so as soon as his sutures are in, ortho will be coming down to set it." He paused to give Samuel a serious look. "He was very, very lucky. Luckier than his friend."

Sara opened her eyes. "Where's Jason?"

"Surgery," the doctor replied gravely.

"His stomach was hurting him," Sammy said with a sniff. He looked at Sara with wet, worried eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I went into your computer and got the address. It's not far from Jason's house and we just…" He hiccupped. "We wanted to see a dead body."

Sara shook her head, unable to speak for a few seconds. Grissom answered for her, his voice rising with each word. "You're lucky you didn't end up a dead body tonight! And for what? For what, Sammy?"

Samuel hung his head. "I'm sorry, Dad. I know it was stupid. But I…"

"You're damn right it was stupid!"

"Gil…" Sara warned.

But fear had turned his words into sharp instruments. "It's probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard! What were you going to do? Trespass on private property? Damage the integrity of the experiments taking place there? Disrespect the dead who've given their bodies to the pursuit of science?" He shook his head at his son. "Those people deserve better than to be ogled by a couple of dumb kids out for a morbid thrill."

Samuel rubbed his wet eyes. Sara tightened her grip on him, glaring at her husband over his head.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Someone will be by soon to stitch up Samuel's forehead. And there's a police officer around who will probably want to talk to you both. In the meantime, if either of you need it…" He looked at Grissom specifically. "….there's a coffee machine just down the hall." A moment passed. "Sometimes it's hard to see the positive in a situation. But Samuel is going to be fine. And his quick thinking probably saved both his life and his friend's." With that, he took his leave.

When he was gone, Sara gently pried her son from her shoulder. "We're not going to discuss where you were going, or why you wanted to go there until tomorrow. Right now, we're only going to focus on making sure you're really okay." She glanced at her husband. "Right?"

Grissom folded his arms. "I'm so disappointed in you, Sammy."

"That's not helpful," Sara shot back. "Not at all."

He shook his head. "I'm going to see if I can reach Rosalind."

"She's on a date with Camden," Samuel said in a quiet, wavering voice. "I don't want to ruin it."

Grissom pulled his phone from his shirt pocket. "You should have thought of that before you decided to abandon all of your common sense." Opening it up, he walked away, starting what Sara knew would be a fruitless search for a cell-phone friendly area of the ER.

Samuel's lower lip trembled. "I'm really sorry, Mom," he whispered. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

She kissed his forehead again. "Of course you didn't. But it happened, Sammy."

"Are you mad at me, too?"

Sara nodded. "Yes. We could have lost you…" She steeled herself against that crippling possibility. "If your father and I didn't love you so entirely, we wouldn't be able to be this upset with you right now."

He put his head on her shoulder again. "My arm hurts," he whimpered.

"I know, baby." She sighed, embracing her child. "As far as punishments go…I think you've been doled out quite enough tonight."

The chance of a concussion was so low that the doctors released Samuel a few hours later, stitched, bandaged and sporting a heavy cast on his left forearm. It was a chilly ride home, with barely a word spoken between the three of them.

Rosalind was waiting for them when they arrived, having nearly worn down the carpet with her frantic pacing. She'd only gotten the message about her brother after three hours of the blood and guts movie Camden had desperately wanted to see, and there had been little point in heading to the ER just as Samuel was being discharged.

Only a single significant look from her mother kept her from reading her little brother the riot act the moment he limped through the door. She decided it would be better to wait until they were out of parental ear-shot anyway. She had a few choice words for him that she'd rather her father didn't know were in her vocabulary.

With the help of a prescription pain medicine, Samuel fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit his pillow, but only after making his mother swear she would wake him up the moment Jason's parents called with any news.

Grissom went to take a shower after the kids were in bed. Since Sara didn't see herself sleeping any time in the foreseeable future, she sat down at the desk in his study, and began balancing the checkbook. She immersed herself in receipts and bank statements and invoices, but even the numbers and calculations couldn't keep her mind occupied. She just kept remembering Samuel in the ER, covered in blood.

She abandoned the checkbook and headed upstairs, suddenly needing to see her son.

But there was already someone sitting on the edge of Samuel's bed, watching him sleep. Grissom looked up when she stepped into the room. He couldn't wipe his cheeks fast enough; the light from the hallway made the tear tracks glisten.

Sara walked to the bed and knelt down in front of him. "He's okay," she whispered.

Her husband shook his head. "Our job wasn't supposed to touch them, Sara."

"Gil…" She put her palms on his knees. "He's thirteen, and he thinks dead bodies are cool." She smiled. "I seem to remember you telling me once that when you were his age, you performed autopsies on road kill." Grissom had no reply or defense to this. Sara sighed softly. "I know you're still scared. So am I." She looked at Samuel. "Right now, he seems totally helpless. But he's not, Gil. Despite what he did tonight, he's a smart, good kid. Just…maybe a little too much of a chip off the old block."

"I came down hard on him, I know. But I don't know what to do," Grissom admitted a moment later. "I don't like imagining my son living my life…seeing what I see every day…knowing how it ends up affecting people, no matter how strong they are."

"It could be a phase," she reminded him. "He might grow up to be a CPA. And if it's not a phase…would it really be such a bad thing to have raised a future scientist?" She smoothed his collar, needing to perform some physical activity to keep her hands steady. "The only thing we should be focused on right now is the fact that he's still with us."

Grissom nodded for a long moment, as though he were absorbing her rationality. "And figuring out just how long he's going to be grounded." He looked at her and there was life in his eyes again.

Sara covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud and waking Samuel. "Of course," she said a moment later, her own tears overflowing. "That goes without saying."

They stood up together, and their lips met briefly.

"I'm thinking two months," Grissom said, putting his arm around her shoulders as they started for the door.

"Softie," Sara accused him. "I was going to say until graduation."

Grissom smiled. "High school?"

"College."

To Be Continued