Author's Note: I am determined to update each one of my WIPs over the weekend. I'm making good progress on my SSS project and a new oneshot should be up by the end of next week so keep on the lookout.
Now, to meet Phil and his family and to lay the foundation for a GSR reunion. The confrontation and the lovemaking are being drafted and I can already tell that they're going to be a doozy.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
14 January 2004: I don't want to go to work. I don't want to fake a smile in front of the guys. I don't want to deal with Catherine's concerned looks or pointed comments. I don't want to see death or pain.
Most of all, I don't want to see Him. Grissom has closed himself tight and it kills me. Not only because he's shutting me out (I'm used to that now) but because he's shutting everyone out. It's as if he feels that human contact and interaction will be like chopping his balls off or chugging Drain-O. He's wasting away and it's painful to watch.
The others have noticed it but nobody has the guts to say anything outright.
They're probably waiting for me to do it
. For some reason, they seem to think that I really matter to him, that he'll listen to me if I go to him. I know the truth now. As much as it hurts for me to say (well, write it) it, I'm thinking of just throwing in the towel. I've been waiting over a decade for him to make a move, to make a decision and nothing's panned out.
It's sad. I really thought we were getting someplace, especially with the whole "Pin Me Down" thing It was the first time that we had really been in sync in ages. It was the first time he had touched me, even in a work related manner, in ages. It felt so damned good but it was too short. It's wasn't enough.
"Tape Me Up" "Do You Want To Sleep With Me?", "Pin Me Down"…they're just moments. Moments of something more. Moments of what could be. Moments of what we could have if he'd just fucking leap. I used to be able to get by with them. I really could. Now, things are different.
The job offer from the Feds woke me up. Even now, I don't know why I just didn't go. I don't have to stay here. I really don't have any obligations. This is the age of email and overnight flights. I could easily stay in contact with the guys and Catherine and just...go. The idea sounds more appealing every time I end up doing the perimeter or I'm treated with kid gloves or when he when he tosses me a weak scrap.
I deserve more than scraps. I deserve to be fucking happy….
When he turned the page, there was nothing else but blank paper. She must have written it before the call to Debbie Marlin's home. His skimming caused a business card to fall out on the table. The script was formal yet straightforward.
It was the lead that they were looking for.
Dr. Phillip Sidle, M.D.
Head of Neurosurgery, San Francisco General.
She was in the San Francisco area. She went to find her brother. If her journals were any indication, he would definitely take her in and calm her down. Phillip would give him time to find her, to beg her forgiveness and finally offer his battered, bruised, and cold heart. Hopefully, she wouldn't stomp on it. He certainly expected her to. After all, it was only logical. What could a woman like her…?
No. No, she wants me. Not some young stud. Me. She's wanted me for ages and I've fucked it up. Not anymore. Logic be damned.
It was his own twisted brand of logic that caused Grissom to push her away in the first place. After all, she was young, brilliant, and beautiful. She could have her pick of anyone. To choose him would be on a whim, a fling to see if "older guys can keep up". Once she figured out he couldn't, she'd leave him destroyed. If he didn't let her in, then the destruction would be prevented.
He didn't take into account that Sara was a different kind of woman. When she was made, they broke the mold. She was not the sort of woman to use and abuse, she was the sort to loyally love until the end. Now, she was fleeing from him, leaving him devastated anyway.
It was a modern day Greek tragedy. In his efforts to protect her, he had destroyed her and himself.
Well, now he was going to do his utmost to fix them and to fight for her.
Picking up his phone, he called Brass, telling him to look up Dr. Phillip Sidle and to call him back with the address.
After doing that, he sought to buy a plane ticket online.
Grissom was going to San Francisco.
//////////////
"Auntie Sara, why are you sad?"
She looked down into the big celery green eyes of her niece (she had a niece!) and smiled weakly.
"It's complicated, honey. Stuff that big people can't sort out without help." she replied gently.
God, Rebecca was the spitting image of her at 6. No. Not true. She needed a black eye and then she'd be the spitting image of her. But Sara could remember the innocence, the endless questions, the thumb sucking. She was sucking the knuckle, not the tip. The tips were "too gross" to her. It was bittersweet. Rebecca was what she should've been: happy, protected, and loved.
What made it sweet was that the cycle hadn't repeated and Rebecca wouldn't have to go through what she did.
"Is that why you came to see daddy at the hopsickle?"
She was too sweet to correct. She'd leave that to the educational system…
"Yeah. Your daddy always used to help me when I was sad and confused when we were kids. I…I was hoping he could help me now."
"He can! Daddy can fix people's brains! If he can do that, he can do anything!" Rebecca replied with complete trust in her daddy.
"That's right, Becca Bear."
The little girl's eyes lit up and she ran off the porch to hug Phil around his knees. Her brother was a bear of a man, 6'5 and 230 pounds of pure muscle. He had inherited that from their father but unlike him, he was gentle, almost reverent with his wife and daughter. Rebecca squealed as he picked her up and hugged her tight.
"Where's mommy?"
"She's makin' lasagna with lots of vegetables. Daddy, what's a vegetabletarian again?"
"Vegetarian, sweetie and that means that a person doesn't eat meat. Your Auntie is a vegetarian."
"Like Uncle Max!"
Max was Kylie's brother. Kylie was Phil's wife, a solid and sweet African American woman with British roots. Becca got her accent, thick black curls, and lot of her optimism from her.
"Yep, just like Uncle Max. Why don't you go help mommy? I have to talk with your Auntie."
" 'Kay, daddy. Auntie Sara, will you play tea party with me, later?"
Sara smiled and nodded, resulting in Rebecca kissing her cheek before darting back inside. The simple show of affection nearly moved her to tears. Phil noticed and sat down, putting his whole right arm around her waist. Sara hid her face in his shirt like she did when they were kids, trying to hide from the world.
"C'mon, Sarabellum. Tell me what's making you so sad."
"Well, it all started when I went to this lecture in '95…"
She had given him the bare facts of her history with Grissom and all the feelings she had for him, both positive and negative. Phil listened attentively, letting her use his sleeve for a tissue at times.
"..And I would never do that to him! I love him and I would never hurt him like that and the fact that he thinks I would hurts! It hurts so bad, Phil!" she choked out at the end, returning to her hiding place.
A light hand on her head made her look and see Kylie with a box of Kleenex.
"Sorry to interrupt. I just can't stand to hear someone crying and not do anything." she apologized sheepishly while brushing a dreadlock out of her eyes.
"I-it's okay. Thank you." Sara replied while wiping her eyes.
"For what it's worth, it sounds like he loves you too. He's just being a scared little bunny about it.", Kylie added with a touch of her usual whimsy before heading back to the kitchen.
Unbidden, the image of Grissom with big floppy ears and a cotton tail made her smile.
"I agree with Ky. In fact, it's the only thing keeping me from driving to Vegas and doing an emergency lobotomy on the fucker for causing you so much grief. Sara, you can stay here as long as you need to but this guy…he's brilliant when it comes to the CSI stuff. He'll find you and come after you."
"No, he won't. He doesn't care enough." Sara replied, refusing to believe them, refusing to get her hopes up again.
Phil made her look at him and she was looking at her own eyes.
"No, Sarabellum. He cares too much. That man loves you more than life and it scares the hell out of him. I know this because I used to be just like him and like you, Kylie had to leave me, she had to go all the way back to Britain before I could take my head out of my ass. Trust me sis, Grissom will come after you. The question is: what are you going to do when he catches you?"
She had no idea.