Chapter 10:Here For You

Sara leaned over carefully, sweeping the glass shards into a small pile with her hands. The colored glass shimmered under the dim light as she moved around them, balancing on her heels. She reached up with the back of her hand, wiping away of the stray tears that worked their way down her cheek.

The single punch had quickly worked its way into a full brawl. It had led from her kitchen, to her front room several feet away. Michael may have been stronger than she was, but that did not exclude her from getting her own timely blows in. It hadn't taken very long to get him out the door after that.

She could hear him, as she rested against the locked door, pounding on the wood, begging for her to let him back in, nearly stuttering as he apologized. Sara wouldn't fall for it; she had collapsed on the floor in a heap, crying as she waited for him to leave.

She considered calling the police, considered filing charges. Yet, she decided against it. If she called, the police would come, they would question her. Once they saw she was drunk, they would either write it off as a false report, and if they actually believed her, they would find out that she had been driving drunk. She wanted neither result hanging over her head.

So instead, she had waited until he left, moving then, only to clean up the mess. She felt sick, and it was hard to move, or do anything at the moment. Her hands were shaking, and her head hurt a great deal, whether it was derived from drinking, or the fight, or both, she wasn't sure.

A knock on her door alerted her that she wasn't alone. She stared up at the entrance, swallowing as she dropped the glass back on the floor, resting her hands on her knees. There was another knock, but she made no move to answer it, the fear slowly building in her.

Was it Michael, coming back to finish what he had started? Or had a neighbor called in all the noise? It was unlikely, everyone that she knew should had been working, but it was always possible.

"Sara?"

She closed her eyes, sighing heavily. Greg was the last person she expected, well…maybe not the last, but certainly wasn't someone she expected to come by. What would she say to him? What would he do?

"Sara, are you in there? It's Greg, let me in, I need to talk with you."

Sara stayed where she was, holding her breath. Maybe if she didn't say anything, he would go away.

When he knocked again, Sara shook her head, her eyes still closed. She couldn't see him, not like this.

"Go away," she croaked, hoping he would take the given hint.

"Sara please," Greg's persistence did not surprise her, and she almost found herself laughing despite the situation.

"I'm sleeping," she told him, biting her tongue in frustration as she did so. Was that the best she could come up with?

"Sara," Greg's voice had changed tone now, and she could hear a small thump against the door as Greg turned the handle. "How can you be talking to me if you're sleeping?"

"I can talk in my sleep," Sara shot back, raising her head, "there's no law against it."

"Sara, open the door, or I'm going to break it down," Greg threatened lightly from the other side.

Sara laughed softly, shaking her head. Greg never did give up, did he? "You do that and you have to buy me a new door."

"Fine by me," Greg responded, "But if I hurt myself, you're paying the bills," he joked, kicking at the bottom of the door.

"Okay, okay," Sara called out to him, pushing herself to her feet. "I'm coming; don't get any ideas Einstein."

She stepped over the broken glass carefully, pausing for a moment to wonder if she could hide everything, but knowing that it would take to long. Reaching up, she unlatched the first lock, pulling the door open.

It was the first time Sara had ever known Greg to be so quiet. A look of confusion quickly followed by concern crossed his face as she closed the door.

"What happened…" he started, but Sara quickly cut him off, shaking her head.

"Nothing," she said quietly. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Sara," Greg muttered, his eyebrows furrowing. "You're bleeding."

"I am?" she reached up with one of her hands, wincing as it came in contact with the cut. Greg reached out for her other hand, turning it palm side up. Several small lacerations ran the length of the palm, small fragments of glass caught inside the incisions.

Greg looked back up to her worriedly, his expression narrowing as he studied her face. "You're drunk," he commented lightly, surprised to her laugh in response.

"Was," she muttered dryly, "more like hung-over now. I feel sick," she whined softly, pulling her hand free. She walked past him, kneeling down to finish cleaning the glass up, but Greg stopped her, pulling her back to her feet.

"You're still drunk," he told her, walking her over to the couch and sitting her down. Carefully he brushed aside her hair that was clinging to the cut on her forehead, tucking the strands behind her left ear.

"I'm going to get a washcloth, and some bandages, get you cleaned up. Just stay here, okay?"

Sara nodded dully, bringing her legs up next to her as she watched him walk down the hall, and into the bathroom. As promised, he returned only a few moments later, her first aid kit in his hands.

He sat opposite of her, setting the kit on the end table, and unlatching the clips. Nothing was said between them as Greg first cleaned the cut on her forehead, wiping away the dried blood before bandaging it.

Sara winced, the wound tender despite Greg's careful handling. Her hand proved to be more difficult, and painful, as Greg worked to pull the small shards from her hand. She flinched with nearly every one; Greg muttering a short apology as well.

"So," he said quietly, still concentrating on the glass embedded into her skin. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

Sara bit her lip as Greg pulled out another piece, shaking her head. "Would you believe me if I told you I fell?"

Greg raised an eyebrow, setting the tweezers down as he reached for the damp washcloth. "Not really."

Sara flinched as he dabbed the wound, cleaning the rest of the glass and dirt from the opening before dabbing on some antibacterial cream, followed shortly by a bandage. He closed her single hand in both his hands, looking up at her.

Sara avoided his gaze, closing her eyes as he reached up to run the back of his hand along her face, running along her bruises lightly. He held onto her hand still, his touches so soft and gentle that it was shocking. She knew that she shouldn't be afraid; Greg would never hurt her, at least not physically. Still she was tense against his touch, and sensing this he pulled away, calling her name quietly.

She opened her eyes, tears resting in them as she looked up at him. "I've had a bad day," she whispered, not even bothering to dry her tears this time.

Greg nodded; his expression grim. "I can see that," he told her, reaching up and pulling her into an embrace.

She allowed herself to be pull in, her body tense against hers as he rubbed her back. He didn't say anything as she cried against him, only held her firmly, running his hand in small circles on her back. Slowly she relaxed against him, her sobs turning into hiccups as she closed her eyes.

Greg reached up, running a hand through her hair. "Feel better?" he asked her.

Dully she nodded against his shoulder, hiccupping as she did so. Surprisingly, she felt quite a bit better, the sickly feeling had worn off, and her head had cleared some. But most of all, the fear and the worry had disappeared.

"I have some news that might cheer you up," Greg offered, resting his head on top of hers. "I got your job back."

Sara pulled away far enough to look up at him, her face blotchy, standing in contrast to all the bruises. "You heard about that?"

Greg nodded, shifting on the couch. "Yeah, Grissom told me about it all."

"You got called in?" she stated shaking her head. "I'm so sorry…you shouldn't be working, you should be resting," she muttered quickly, surprised when Greg placed his fingers against her lips."

He smiled down at her confused expression, pulling her into another hug. "You can come back tomorrow, if you feel up to it."

She nodded, resting against him. "How?"

Greg shrugged, "It was easy, once I mentioned all the money it would take, Ecklie reconsidered quickly. He's a sensible man."

Sara laughed, closing her eyes, "I'd never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I would like to know what happened," he prodded, leaning back against the pillow, pulling Sara with him.

She shook her head, brushing him off lightly. "I just fell," she whispered. "That's all…"

Greg let out a sigh as he brushed her hair off of her face, watching as she fell asleep, her soft breaths landing on his chin. "You can tell me you know," he told her quietly, closing his own eyes. "I'm right here for you."

TBC