Do not own CSI or any of the characters.
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Also want to thank the best betas in the world, theyHAUNTme and StokesSidle
Picking up the Ashes - Chapter 17
The cool night air brushed against Sara's skin as she pushed opened the building door and made her way over to her car.
She swore under her breath as her keys dropped from her shaking hand on to the pavement. She slowly bent down to retrieve them from her feet. A shiver escaped from her chapped lips as her fingers tips touch the cool metal of the keys. There was a chill in the air that night and she was only wearing a thin black T and jeans, the one with the hole in the knee.
As she stood up again, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before slipping the key into the lock and popping the door open.
She then slide into the driver seat and started the car.
A moment or two later the car had pulled out of the parking lot and was driving on to the street.
Sara drove around the city of Las Vegas for about an half hour, not knowing were to go. She just had to clear her head.
She then finally pulled up to a country bar located off the strip. She had been here before with Nick, who practically had to drag her there.
Sara turned off the engine and undid her seat belt but made no move to leave the car. She just stared down into her lap and then slowly the tears began to fall. One by one rolling down her pale cheeks.
She then dropped her head and shoulders and sobbed against the steering wheel, letting all her emotion out from rage and anger to grief and loss.
Sara eventually pulled her self together and stepped out of the car.
Grissom shut the front door and angrily punched his fist into it. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes as pain spread like wild fire through his fingers. But he just bit down on his lower lip and ignored it as his hand continued to throb.
Hank came to his owner's side and began to lick his injured hand.
Grissom jump a bit as he felt Hank's tongue on his skin. He then looked down at the dog, who looked back at him with his big brown eyes. Grissom had to look away at this. Those eyes always reminded him of hers.
A moment or two passed before Hank began to whine, "I know boy," spoke Grissom looking down at the dog, rubbing the back of his ears.
He then moved away from Hank and into the kitchen.
Grissom searched through all the cupboards until he came across for what he was looking for, it was in the bottom cabinet of the island along were they kept the wine.
Grissom examined the bottle; it was still full, barely used. He placed the bottle on the counter and stood up.
Grissom then turned his back to the counter and walked over to the dishwasher and pulled out a clean glass. He then poured himself a drink. The ruby of the whiskey sparkling in the light as it hit the bottom of the glass and filled to the top.
Grissom rose the full glass to his lips and tilted his head back, chugging the liquid down his throat.
A moment later, Grissom placed the now empty glass back on to the counter and let out a cough. The back of his throat was burning but he didn't care. His body leaned into the counter letting his head drop.
Grissom let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was hating himself by this point.
He had watched the most important thing in his life walk out and he hadn't done anything really to stop it.
Sara slumped her body into a stool at the counter and buried her face into her hands.
"Rough day?"
Sara looked up at this, to see a bald middle age bartender smiling back at her.
"I guess you could say that," whisper back Sara, sitting up a little in her seat.
"So what can I get for you to smooth the pain, uh missy?" asked the bartender, smiling still.
"Um…"replied Sara closing her eyes, "a beer."
"Coming up!" spoke the bartender, turning his back to Sara.
Sara watched the bartender leave and return with a cold beer in his hands and a glass.
"Bottle is fine," spoke Sara taking the bottle from his hand.
The bartender just nodded at this and put the glass away.
Sara raised the bottle to her lips and took a swing of it as she turned around in her seat and looked around the bar. There was country music blaring from an old jude box in the corner. There was a butch of couples in cowboy hats and jeans dancing on the dance floor. Sara envied them as she watched their smiling faces. That use to be her and Grissom, what had changed?
She let out a sigh as she turned back towards the counter and took another sip of her beer.
Two hours and five beers later, Sara found her self slapping her hand down on the counter, "ANOTHER DUSTIN!" she cried to the bartender. Who she had found out that his name was Dustin
"Oh no Missy I don't think so," he spoke taking the empty beer bottle from Sara.
"What have I told you the name is Sara not Missy," explained Sara grinning. She was drunk.
"Uhuh," nodded Dustin looking unconvinced. "Watcha say I call you a cab?"
"A cab!?"
"Yeah cab to get you home," explained Dustin.
"But my car is just outside," cried Sara, point towards the door.
"Oh no," replied Dustin shaking his head, "You're in no condition to drive. I am calling you a cab Missy."
"Dustin, Dustin, Dustin, what have I told you before?" asked Sara shaking her head. "The name's SSSSAAAARRRRRAAAAA!"
Dustin just nodded at this as he dialed the number for the cab company.
Fifteen minutes later, Sara found her self in the back of a cab.
"Where to miss?" asked the cab driver looking at Sara through the rearview mirror.
"Um, well I can't go back home," started Sara. "See I had a huge fight with my booyyyfriiend see, so there is no fucking way I can go there," rambled on Sara, slurring her words a bit.
"I just need an address miss," replied the cab driver, a little inpatient. He hated picking up drunks.
"Ummm," spoke Sara titling her head and looking up at the ceiling thinking real hard. "How about Warrick's?" she asked to no one. "YES! Warrick's!"
"And where would this Warrick live miss?" asked the driver.
After Sara had given the driver Warrick's address, they were off.
About 20 minutes later, the cab pulled up outside to a slip level home.
"Well here you go miss," spoke the cab driver.
"Thanksss," spoke Sara getting out of the car.
It was a good thing that the bartender Dustin had paid the driver before or else he probably wouldn't have gotten paid at all.
Sara walked up to the front door, stumbling a little on the way. She then rang the door bell three times in a row before she heard foot steps on the other side.
A tired looking Warrick opened the door and stared stunned at Sara, "What the hell?"
"Hiya Rick!" greeted Sara smiling.
"Sara what are you doing here?" he asked still very confused.
"I need a place to crash," replied Sara pushing herself past Warrick and into the house.
"So where's the wife, Tina?" she asked looking over at Warrick, who had just the door and was looking at her still shocked.
"Um, Tina's at work," stated Warrick, running a hand through his hair.
"Oh good," replied Sara, then all the sudden she started to laugh, giggles at first but then it turned into body shaking chuckles.
Warrick's eyes widen in disbelief at the sight in front of him. He had never in his life had seen Sara Sidle drunk before. He then smiled a bit, as Sara tripped over her feet and crashed into a chair, this just made her laugh even harder.
It all happen so fast that Warrick had not seen it coming, one minute Sara had been bent over clenching her stomach laughing the next she was throwing up.
Warrick stopped smiling and ran over to Sara and held her hair back as she continued to vomit.
Once Sara was done, he moved her into the bathroom. "You okay?" he asked looking at Sara concerned as she took a seat on the edge of the bath tub. She wasn't looking to well now; her skin was pale and tired looking.
Just Sara opened to reply, she threw up again this time in to the toilet.
As Warrick held her hair back, he reached over to the sink and grabbed a wash cloth and wetted it with cold water and pressed it against Sara's forehead.
Shortly after Sara pasted out on the bath room floor. Warrick then picked her up in his arms and moved her into the bedroom.
Warrick making sure not to wake Sara lay her softly down on the bed and pulled the covers up. She looked like a child lying there asleep in his bed.
He then moved out of the room and went to go clean up the living room.
Warrick had never been so relived to have tile flooring instead of carpet, as he sat back on his ankles and stood up. After about 10 minutes of scrubbing, the floor was now sparkling clean.
He then moved into the kitchen, were he put away his cleaning products and reached for the phone.
He didn't know what had happened with Sara to make her come over to his house drunk but he had a pretty good idea that it had something to do with Grissom. He leaned against the counter as he dialed Grissom's number.
The call went to the answering machine after ringing 5 times.
"Hey Griss, its Warrick. I just wanted to let you know that Sara's here at my place. Um…ok see ya later," with that Warrick hung up the phone.
He then glanced over at the clock on the oven that flashed 4:05 am.
Grissom let out a grown from the couch as he heard the phone ring. 'I should get that, it could be Sara,' he thought to him self but instead he let the machine get it. Warrick's voice ran through the house as the machine screened the call.
This brought relief to Grissom a little, at least he knew that Sara was safe at Warrick's but it still didn't take the pain away from what had happened earlier.
Grissom rolled off the couch and on to his feet, he needed another drink.
Warmness filled his heart as the liquid burned the back of his throat but it didn't last for long. It still ached with pain for Sara. Only she could make Grissom feel whole again.
With this he made his was over to the bedroom. His body felt ten times heavier as he moved across the room to the bed where he lay down fully clothed and fell into an uneasy sleep.
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