A/N: Thank you for reading and commenting. You all are awesome. If you don't notice I am struggling with not making Sara too emotional or too not emotional.
Chapter 3: Don't think twice, it's alright
The next person to enter Grissom's office was Brass. He had knocked and when the CSI did not answer Brass had searched the labs. It was Sara who told Brass Grissom was in his office. When Brass entered the office, he had assumed his friend was resting between shifts. It was not until he stood over Grissom that he knew the supervisor was sick.
"Grissom wake up." Brass said not touching the man who looked anything but restful asleep on the couch.
Grissom opened his eyes and was greeted with the florescent lights were on again. He closed his eyes as he sat up, hoping Brass would just leave it alone. It was a well known fact that Grissom suffered from migraines, but he often could work through them. This one was one of the worse ones, but he still would try to make it through.
"What do you have?" Grissom asked as he slowly sat up feeling dizzy.
"Augusta Howard was having an affair." Bras noticed the lights were bothering Grissom, so he walked over and turned the lamp on.
That made Grissom more alert quickly sitting up he was grateful Brass turned the main light off in the office. "With who?"
"The neighbor." Brass replied as he walked to the light switch on the wall to turn the main lights off to save his friend from the pain. Light sensitivity told Brass it was very likely Grissom had a migraine.
"Did Mark Howard know?" Grissom asked.
"Do not know yet." Brass replied taking a seat in an empty chair and almost sighing as he felt the weight go off his feet. He was getting old, and all the hours spent working this case were adding up.
"But the relationship does not explain their deaths." Grissom replied noting that it was something he should have picked up on right away, damn migraine was making it almost impossible to think. The pain was all encompassing. "The evidence indicates this was a professional hit, in which, the family was tortured to get information out of Mark Howard."
"Yes. However, maybe the neighbor knows why someone would take a hit out on the Howards." Brass studied his friend trying to deduce if Grissom should go home or if he could work through the migraine. All signs indicated that the criminalist needed to go home. If Brass looked rough, Grissom looked like death warmed over. Gil was more disheveled than Brass had seen him in a long time. His clothes were wrinkled and the way he carried himself indicated extreme exhaustion and pain.
"How did you find out about the affair?" Grissom questioned.
"Augusta Howard was friends with one of the tellers at the bank. She told me during an interview. Augusta had told her she was going to end the affair, but as far as the friend knew they were still seeing each other."
"Let's go interview the neighbor." Grissom said trying to stand, but a wave of dizziness came over him and he fell back down to the couch.
"You look like hell." Brass said, "I am taking you home, and I will go interview the neighbor. No reason for you to be there, he is not connected to any evidence yet."
Grissom protested, "I might see something you miss."
"I am not going to be offended by that statement." Brass said chuckling on the inside because he knew Grissom did not mean it the way it sounded, "Come on let's get you home."
"I can drive myself." Grissom said protesting thought he still had not moved from the couch as he still felt dizzy.
"Humor me." Brass responded, there was no way in hell he was going to let Grissom drive himself home. The man could not even stand up.
Grissom wanted to snap that he was a grown man and could take care of himself, but he was too tired and in too much pain to raise much of an argument that he knew he ultimately would lose. "How am I supposed to get back for shift?"
"Either one of your team can pick you up or I can have a uniform drive you in." Brass said reaching out to help his friend off the couch, and was surprised when Grissom accepted the hand.
"What if there is an emergency and I am needed?" Grissom felt like a petulant child not wanting to go to bed, so he was finding every reason not to, but that did not stop him from acting that way.
"Than I will pick you up." Brass said getting annoyed with his friend. The last time someone had acted this way around him was when his daughter was a little girl. Right before bed time she would need a glass of water, a story read to her, a monster under the bed check, than five minutes after he lay her down, she would not be able to sleep. She would ask for a glass of warm milk, and it kept on until finally his former wife would refuse to give in. '
"I need to talk to Sara before we leave." Grissom stated knowing it was a sign of defeat, but it was a battle he would never win.
It took Grissom five minutes to find Sara, he finally found her sitting in the break room drinking a cup of coffee.
"I am going home. You need to do the same." Grissom said curing the lights shining down on him. Why did migraines have to come with light sensitivity and dizzy spells?
"I want to finish the case first." Sara said refusing to go home. Someone had to work this case. These were the most important hours. If nothing broke, chances of them finding the killer(s) was low to non-existent.
"You will go home now, and not come back until the start of shift tomorrow." Grissom snapped because of the pain in his head which intensified as Sara chose to argue with him over this.
"I am an adult and I will do whatever the hell I want." Sara snapped back her anger matching Grissom's.
"Sara as your boss I am ordering you to go home and not return until shift tomorrow." His voice raised another notch, people outside the break room were taking notice of the argument forming between the graveyard shift supervisor and team member. Lucky for both of them Eckile was out at a meeting and would never know about the fight.
"How can you expect me just to drop everything? These people deserve justice!"
"And they will get it." Grissom snapped, "We can only do so much. The evidence is not there, and it is not going to magically appear because you want it to. It will still not magically appear when you come back at the start of shift tomorrow!"
"How can you be this cold? This uncaring?" Sara was letting her anger take control. Had both occupants of the room not been so exhausted, and for one in pain, the argument probably never would have happened. However, the minute Grissom's voice raised in anger, Sara's voice raised to meet his. The argument was really over little if one had not known the history or lack of history between the two occupants.
"I am not uncaring. I am detached from the case so I can remain objective." Grissom would be upset with himself for the words that followed, "You should try it sometime it might make you a better CSI."
He had no excuse for them and he knew the words were not true. Sara was one of the best CSI he had the pleasure to work with. She reminded him of himself, only better, if he was honest. Her dedication was not found out of the need to fill a void in her life. He was passionate about what he did, that was clear, and he would never not do anything he was not passionate about. However, the entire devotion to his career was the result of the knowledge that he could not ever love another human again. The job was a nice way to protect himself from ever having to be completely open to another person. It was not that he was afraid of being rejected, though that was a bit of his reasoning, it was the pain that comes from giving yourself completely to someone and than being found lacking. The job would never do that to him. So instead of just facing his fear or the pain of his past, he devoted himself completely to his tradecraft. It fill the void. However, Sara was different. She did the job because of passion and there was no fear there.
Sara did not know what to say to what Grissom had just spat at her. He did not think she was a good CSI. He did not respect her work.
Grissom knew his words had hurt her because she could not respond. Instead of apologizing he said, "Go home. I'll see you tomorrow."
Sara was still angry when she woke up six hours later. It was that anger that propelled her out of bed and into a shower. It was decided, she was going to tell Grissom how she felt, go into the office and write her letter of resignation, come back, pack her life up, and leave this town and him. No one had the right to treat her the way he did, does. Before Grissom she would never have let anyone do this to her, why was he different? It did not matter, she would tell him about himself, and than walk out. The guys she would miss, but it was best for her to leave now. Somewhere else would respect her talents and not make her second guess herself.
In her car she drove a bit faster than she normally would, the anger was still boiling under the surface as she turned the radio up and sang with Bob Dylan.
So long honey babe, where I'm bound I can't tell
Goodbye is too good a word babe
So I just say fare the well
I ain't saying you treated me unkind
You could have done better
But I don't mind
You just kind of wasted my precious time
But don't think twice it's alright.
She rehearsed in her head what she was going to say to him. Tell him how much he had hurt her, how much he had used her, and left her constantly second guessing herself. How cruel he was to ask her to come to Vegas, knowing what she wanted from him, and yet he had no intention of ever giving or trying to give himself to her. The fact that she had heard him say, she was not worth the risk and how much that had hurt her. All he had done was hurt her, and now she was going to cut out the pain and leave before she was left like him. An empty shell of a human being that no one would miss once he was gone.
Pulling up in front of his house she put the car in park and wiped the tears from her eyes she had not even known she was crying. This was it, the end of her time in Vegas was near. Did she have to do this? She asked herself because she knew it would be better just to leave a letter of resignation on his desk and leave. While not giving any notice was unprofessional, what she was about to do was completely unprofessional. It would mean she would not get a recommendation from him. Did it matter? If she wanted to work in another lab it might. Maybe she would go back to graduate school and get her PhD? A letter from Catherine or even Nick would do, not like the programs would know who Grissom was, unless she went back for entomology or forensics. It was decided she was going to do this.
With all of the pain she felt and the anger she got out of her car, slamming the door harder than she meant to. Sara was ready for battle, her walls were up, defenses shields at full power. She would make him feel what she felt. Reaching his door she knocked and it slid open some. The door had been slightly open, and her pounding fist on the door pushed it open more. She could feel the cool air from inside wafting outside, why would he have his door open if he had his air on?
Knocking again, this time a bit more gently she waited again listening this time to hear if he was coming. No noise came from inside the house. Pushing the door open she called out, "Grissom you home?"
A/N: Song is by Bob Dylan.