This was quite a heavy chapter to write – and I'm not really sure if it's my best work. But I've been at the computer the whole afternoon and my family are none too pleased – so I really hope you like it!
C: 5By 4pm, the rain had stopped, but as the dark clouds were blown east, even more were blown in from the west, making more rain a certainty. By that time, Warrick and Greg had reluctantly gone home to get some rest before shift and Catherine was ready to head home for some proper rest. The doctors had provided a wheelchair to transport her to the car, and, after a heated debate with her mother and Lindsay, Catherine was seated in it and waiting to leave. She turned to Nick to say goodbye but found him fast asleep, snoring lightly as his pain medication took effect. She chuckled lightly to herself at the sight, then turned her attention diagonally across the room. Beside the bed that had been returned to its position next the window a few hours before, was Gil Grissom, slumped uncomfortably in a chair and looking absolutely exhausted. A copy of the latest Forensics Journal was propped on his knees and he was doing his best to look like he was reading it.
But Catherine wasn't fooled. She'd been watching him and had quickly noticed how often his eyes darted to the sleeping woman on the bed beside him. His haggard appearance had led her to believe that, of all the guilt he was feeling, his guilt about what had happened to Sara was the worst. Catherine frowned, wondering why it was bothering him more than anything else. After all, it wasn't as if Grissom was solely responsible – not unless he'd trained and commanded the spider to go after Sara. Given their previous relationship, the first thought that would've popped into her mind, as an explanation, would have been that the two were rebuilding their friends-with-benefits-ship, but as far as Catherine knew, the two hadn't worked a case together in weeks. Sara had been mentoring Greg and Grissom, well, was Grissom so even if Sara had tried anything, it would no doubt have been thwarted. No, the chances of Grissom and Sara having started some sort of extra-work relationship were about as great as finding a gold filling in the mouth of a toothless man. Yet still, there was something in his eyes that kept the notion in her mind.
"Gil?" Catherine called softly across the room. At her voice, Grissom seemed to jolt back into reality and the magazine dropped to the floor with a low splat. He quickly bent to pick it up before turning to face her.
"I'm heading home," she said with a smile and a small wave.
"Already? What time is it?" he asked, looking at his watch.
Catherine hesitated, and then said, "Isn't it time that you went home too; got some rest?"
Grissom sighed and rubbed his forehead, "I want to be here when Sara wakes up. I'd rather she hear what happened from me."
Catherine cast a glance at the feverish brunette on the bed and sighed, "Gil, I understand what you're saying. But you've gotta be back at the lab for shift in a few hours and you've only got Greg and Warrick on tonight so it's going to be hectic. And Sara…Well, what if she doesn't wake up tonight."
He shook his head, "Thanks. I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine."
"You don't look it," she retorted.
Grissom only sighed in response and shook his head. After a few moments silence, he turned to her and said, "So you're going home? I hope you get decent rest."
She smiled, at both his concern and his obvious change of subject, "I will." She pushed herself towards him until she was in front of his chair, wincing at the pain the effort caused in her ribs. She squeezed his hand and looked him in the eye. "Don't blame yourself for anything that happened last night. Nick and I don't – and I know Sara never would." She smiled at him, and the corners of his mouth moved upwards in a small half-smile, his eyes deep with remorse.
"Thank you Catherine," he said softly, casting another glance at Sara, "I really appreciate this."
She smiled widely, "It's my pleasure. I mean every word so don't let that guilt eat you up." And suddenly she decided to go out on a limb and said, "And don't worry, your girl will be fine." She tilted her head towards Sara and winked.
X
Half an hour later, Grissom decided to drop all pretence. With the rest of the team gone, and Nick still sleeping, he was alone in the ward with Sara. Desert Palms was quiet and the only sounds he could hear were Nick's snores and the slow beeping of Sara's heart monitor. He put the Forensics Journal down and stood over Sara to take in her appearance once more, this time, without the others scrutinising him and trying to guess what he was thinking.
Her cheeks were flushed a deep red which seemed out of place on Sara's usually pale skin. Her breathing had slowed in the time that she'd been in the ward so she lay still, with a placid expression on her face. The cut on her forehead hadn't needed stitches, but the doctors had still taped a small square of gauze over it to prevent infection. Her hair had been left loose and it now hung just below her shoulders and framed her face so that, with her lips slightly parted in sleep, and her dark eyelashes splayed over the red in her cheeks, she looked like a porcelain doll – and a fragile one at that. Grissom was reminded of Lindsay's dolls, many of which he'd had to play 'doctor' for, fixing plasters and bandages to them when a young Lindsay had accidentally dropped them. Yes that was it: Sara was a broken doll – one that he planned to fix.
Grissom reached out an unsteady hand, sliding it along the hospital blankets until it was a few inches away from hers. With a quick glance at her face, just to be sure she wasn't awake, he reached out and closed his fingers around hers. Her hand was warm in his and trembling slightly. Gaining confidence, he lifted it and ran his thumb up and down each of her fingers, then slid his own fingers in between hers and squeezed. Their fingers interlaced perfectly, or they would, he thought, if you could hold my hand properly. Keeping her hand in his, he turned his attention back to her face and raised his other hand to her forehead to check her temperature. Still warm. He sighed and gently ran his hand to her cheek. His hands were cold – perhaps she could feel it; perhaps it would help.
A soft moan broke the silence of the room and Grissom's eyes immediately fixed on the brunette's face.
"Sara?" he whispered tentatively.
No answer came, but he felt movement in his hand. Glancing down, he saw Sara's fingers slowly close around his own. Grissom gasped and looked back to her face. She was blinking slowly at him, a frown already forming on her brow. He caught the confusion in her eyes and squeezed her hand.
"It's okay Sara," he said in a soothing voice, "Don't panic. You're safe."
"Gris?" The word was a hoarse whisper and Grissom quickly reached over and retrieved a small cup of water from the bedside table. Carefully, he brought it to her lips, letting the cool liquid flow into her mouth. She swallowed slowly and gave a small smile.
"Thanks."
"Sure," he smiled and restored the cup to its place. When he returned his attention to her, he found her eyes slowly moving around the room. Her frown deepened, and the corners of her lips sunk downwards as she seemed to realise where she was. Suddenly, her eyes darted back to him, catching him watching her. She shifted uncomfortably then suddenly winced at the sharp pain that shot through her shoulder and stopped, taking deep breaths.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, immediately regretting it. Come on Gil! It's obvious that she's in pain!
"Foggy," she said slowly, blinking a few times. "And sore." She winced and shifted a little more, then added, "And…eugh…like I'm gonna hurl."
"Do you me to help you to the bathroom?" Grissom asked, unsure of how to respond.
She shook her head slowly. "No thanks, I think I can keep it under control." She paused for a few moments then turned to him, looking like a lost child and asked, "What happened to me Gris?"
He took a deep breath and sighed, trying to find the best way to explain.
"You…uh… were bitten by a Brown Recluse spider."
"A what?" she frowned.
He swallowed and said, "My Brown Recluse spider. The one I left next to you in the break room last night. I…I'm sorry Sara. I had no idea this would happen to you – I certainly never meant for you to be hurt."
Sara was quiet for a few moments, then smiled wryly. "So it wasn't the pizza," she muttered, shaking her head slightly.
Grissom frowned, "What?"
"I was sick at the lab. I though it was because of the old pizza I ate for lunch," she explained.
"Oh. So do you…remember anything after you left the lab?"
She frowned, thinking. "I remember getting home. I took off my shoes, tossed my jersey on the bed…started making breakfast. Our breakfast." She paused for a few moments, then continued, "I remember feeling nauseous – and hot. And then dizzy. Really really dizzy. And then…nothing."
"Nothing at all?"
"Zero," she shook her head and cast her eyes down. "What happened to me…how did I get here?"
"You must have fainted. You were unconscious when we found you."
"We?"
"Greg and I." Grissom sighed. "A lot happened last night after you left. Nick and Catherine were attacked in the Reserve-"
"Oh God, are they okay?" she interrupted him.
"They'll be fine. Catherine's at home and Nick…" Grissom stepped back so she could see past him to where the Texan lay sleeping.
"Oh Nicky!" Sara gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand. Her eyes were filled with horror when she turned them back to Grissom and asked, "What happened to him?"
"We believe that the perp returned to the scene. He started shooting at them. They ran, until he hit Catherine – in the vest, thank God. Nick went back to her – and the guy shot him too."
"What happened to his leg?" Sara's eyes roamed the large cast.
"When the guy shot him, he fell into a ten foot deep pit."
Sara scowled, "Bastard."
"He's in custody down at PD. Don't worry, he won't get away with this," Grissom said, hoping to douse some of the resentful fire that had ignited in Sara's eyes. It didn't seem to work so he changed the subject, "I tried to call you. I…wanted you there, but you weren't answering. So Greg and I went to your apartment and, well, you know the rest."
Silence descended on the room for a few minutes as Sara slowly mulled over what had happened. Her mind was still terribly sluggish and she was struggling to think logically. One minute, she'd been happily preparing breakfast for Grissom, excited and eagerly anticipating his arrival, and the next she was here, feeling like she'd been starved of oxygen and then thrown under a bus. A thousand feelings seemed to be running through her at once: anger, confusion, regret, longing and pain. It had been both strange and wonderful to wake up with Grissom by her side. Grissom, who, despite her best attempts to the contrary, could still make her heart flutter with a single smile, a single touch. The first thing she'd become aware of was his hand around hers and the perfect way their fingers meshed together. It had left her feeling…complete and, hang on, he was still holding her hand!
Sara looked down at their hands, resting on the blanket, and squeezed. Grissom's eyes immediately met hers, and in that moment, sparks flew between them, causing a warm tingle to run through both their bodies. For a moment, eyes and hands locked, they felt the passion that would flow between them if given the chance. They gasped as one, surprised and enchanted by the strange feeling. But Grissom quickly drew his hand away and it faded.
"Sorry," he mumbled, obviously uncomfortable. He cast his eyes past her, out the window, and then looked down at his shoes. Sara kept her eyes on his face, slowly dying inside as tears formed in her eyes. If he had looked at her, he would have seen profound sadness and despondency. Grissom had, in trying to conceal his own confusing emotions, openly rejected the chemistry between them and, to Sara, it was like an icy knife to the heart.
She drew her hand back under the blankets and, wincing, turned on her side, away from Grissom. Behind her, Grissom cast his eyes down to the floor, mentally beating himself. You've done it again Gil! You weren't willing to let go and just be there, in the moment with her. It might not have led anywhere; it might have been the moment you've been looking for to mend your fractured relationship, to tell Sara it isn't her fault – but no, you panicked and you withdrew. You hurt her again. Grissom racked his brain for something so say, something to make it right, but Sara didn't give him the chance.
"When can I go home?" she asked, her voice calm, as if nothing had happened. "Our shift's going to be crazy without Nick and Cath."
He moved around the bed and sat down in a chair on the other side so that his eyes were level with hers. "Sara. This is serious. Those spider bites on your shoulder are dangerous – you could have died-"
"But I didn't. You saved me," she retorted.
He sighed in frustration, and forced himself to be calm, "Sara, the venom takes a long time to wear off. You're not out of the woods yet. The doctors are going to keep you here for a minimum of two days."
Sara was visibly disgusted with the notion of having to stay in the hospital so he quickly added, "But I've spoken to your doctor. As soon as you're okay to leave, I'll take you home. So the more rest you get now, the sooner you'll be home again."
Sara sighed in defeat and nodded, "Thanks."
"I wish I could undo what happened to you Sara, really I do. I'm so sorry," he said softly.
Gently, she reached out a hand and ran it up his arm. It sent shooting pain through her shoulder, but he was worth it.
"Gris…Gil, it's not your fault. You can't control everything, you know. And I am going to be fine," she soothed, even though she felt like she was inches away from death. Ironic, she thought, how I'm the one lying in a hospital bed, fighting like hell to stay awake, and consoling you - and still you won't just let go for me!
She swallowed and continued, "After all, you're the one who saved me. If you hadn't come looking for me, nobody would have."
He cast her the same disbelieving half-smile he'd given Catherine. "You should be resting."
"So should you. You have shift tonight," she added, a note of contempt in her voice.
Grissom stood up and squeezed her hand. "Thank you Sara. I really hope you feel better soon."
She smiled, "Rain check for breakfast then?" She doubted he'd say yes and was genuinely surprised by his answer.
"Sure," he said. He moved around the bed and picked up his coat and the forgotten copy of Forensics Journal. He put it down beside her. "Here's something to keep you busy if you can't sleep. I know you struggle sometimes."
Sara smiled, her eyes half-open. "Thanks. Am I going to see you here again?"
"Of course. Probably after tonight's shift. I know the guys will want to see you."
"Cool." She closed her eyes.
"Goodbye Sara," he said softly, moving towards the door.
"Bye Gris. Thanks for…stopping by," she replied in a shaky voice. Stopping by and breaking my heart.
He turned in the doorway to look back at her. "Tell Nicky I say hi. And…feel better." And then he was gone and Sara was left alone in the ward.
She turned and looked out the window at the hostile clouds looming in the sky. They covered what could have been a breathtaking Nevada sunset, leaving no trace of the warmth that might have been in the air. Just like Grissom and I, Sara thought. We could be great together – happy and whole – but there's always something in the way. She remembered the spark that had flown between them and then, with a sinking heart, remembered the way he'd jerked his hand from hers. Bitter, cold fire smouldered at the back of her throat and down into her heart. Warm tears returned and flowed unchecked down her cheeks. A broken sob echoed in the hospital room and Sara's body shook with grief. She curled in to a ball, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, her strength collapsing under her own despair and sobbed. Outside, there was a flash of lightning and a deep rumble of thunder. Rain poured down on Las Vegas, thick and unrelenting, covering the city in grey darkness. People on the street yelped and ran for cover; windows and doors were hastily yanked shut; children screamed in fear of the thunder; telephone lines struck by the lighting immediately went dead – and Sara Sidle's heart monitor went berserk.
A/N Review? In the name of all that is GSR, please review! You know I'll write the next chapter fast if you do…