Grissom stood in his office alone. The folded card hanging loosely in his finger tips, tears stinging behind his eyes. Her voice in his head as her words replayed in his mind:
Gil,
You know I love you. I feel I've loved you forever. Lately I haven't been feeling very well. Truth be told I'm tired. Out in the desert under that car that I night I realized something and I haven't been able to shake it. Since my father died, I've spend almost my entire life with ghosts. We've been like close friends, and out there in the desert in occurred to me that it was time for me to burry them. I can't do that here. I'm so sorry. No matter how hard I try to fight it off, I'm left with the feeling that I have to go. I have no idea where I'm going , but I know I have to do this. If I don't I'm afraid I'll self-destruct. And worse, you'll be there to see it happen.
Be safe. Know that I tried very hard to stay. Know that you are my one and only. I will miss you with every beat of my heart. Our life together is the only home I've ever really had. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I love you. I always will.
Goodbye—
He braced himself on the edge of his desk and cupped his face in his hands. The days events replaying like vignettes in his mind:
Her requesting to take the Marlon case.
Getting the heads up from Greg that she'd taken the sister to the interrogation room.
Watching as she lost her temper with the minor.
Confronting her one. Feeling her push him away.
Her promising him that she was okay.
His heart constricted. A pain so strong filled the space of his chest that he could barely breathe. He quickly reached for his phone to call her but there was no answer. He tried again.
"Hey Grissom."
"Nick? What are you doing with Sara's phone?"
"I heard it vibrating, it was in her locker. Must have forgotten it."
Grissom quickly hung up and tried her personal cell phone. Nothing. His attention was then shifted to the voices just outside his door.
"Have you seen Sara? I need her to sign off on this case." It was Ronni talking with Supervisor Mike Davis.
"I have not. I think she wrapped up the case she was working on for Grave though. She must have gone home for the night. I heard you two had issues today."
"Not issues, no." Ronni's voice was perky like always as she continued. Grissom still listening from the darkness of his office, "We were called out to a 225, domestic abuse compliant off Craig Road. We found a woman there, stabbed in the back by her Husband. The knife was still in her."
Grissom's face drained of all its color. He realized now what Greg meant about not being able to protect her if she wasn't on Grave. Since learning about Sara's past over three years ago, Grissom had made sure that she not go near a case with the slightest hint of domestic violence. But when he stopped being her supervisor, he forgot all of the ways in which he used that position to protect her.
"So what was the issue?"
"Sara said there was nothing we could do to help. That we'd be back for their bodies next month. I finished it up on my own time, helped the wife get into a shelter."
"Alright. Next time come to me first."
He listened as the two scurried off in opposite directions. Grissom quickly realized that this event must have happened prior to handing of the Marlon West case to Catherine and Sara. He pinched the bridge of his nose hard and for the first time in years, a migraine started to push its way in. He could still feel her parting kiss on his lips. He shut his eyes hard realizing that was a goodbye kiss. He touched his lips.
Grissom drove home. An inkling of hope filled his mind that she may still be there, but he knew it was unlikely. He walked in and was quickly greeted by Hank.
He moved passed Hank, "Sara?" But there was no answer. He turned back around to see Hank still sitting by the door waiting, confirming that Sara wasn't home. He sighed heavily as he dropped his briefcase to the floor and walked into the bedroom, flicking on the lights. Everything seemed in tact. But when he opened the closet, he found her suitcase was gone. He moved to open her dresser draws, half of the drawers empty, the other half still had her things in them.
He laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling his heart break a little more with each breath he took. He laid there for an hour. Just taking deep breaths, trying to will away the impending migraine. He could still smell her lavender scent lingering in the room. It was killing him.
Then his phone rang. He answered instinctively.
"Grissom."
"Gil," It was Catherine on the other end, "Where are you?"
"I'm home." He could hear the apprehension in her voice. He knew this wasn't about work.
"Can I come over?"
"Now's really not a good time."
"Do you know where she went?"
"What?"
"Davis just found a letter of resignation on his desk."
Grissom signed heavily. The whole lab must know at this point. "No. I don't know where she is."
"Gil..."
"Look, Cath—I uh, I've got to go." He hung up and pushed his phone away from him, still laying motionless on the bed. He closed his eyes again, her face filling his vision, her sad eyes. He should have seen it.
He must have fallen asleep there, because he woke hours later to the sound of Hank whimpering. He walked toward the front to find him stilly laying there by the door, waiting for Sara.
"Come on boy." He called as he got Hank his food, but the dog wouldn't budge. Grissom opened the refrigerate to grab himself something to drink. As he closed the door his eye caught the photo of the two of them standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. He became painfully aware of the pang in his heart. Please, he pleaded internally, please let me know you're alright.
As if by divine intervention, his phone rang. Grissom looked at the screen, "Caller Unknown." He thought about not answer for a moment, but then something overtook him.
"Hello?"
"Gil." The voice on the other end was but a whisper.
"Sara?"
"It's me."
"Thank god, are you alright? Are you safe?"
"I'm safe."
"Where are you?"
"Im in San Fransisco."
"Your mother?" His voice was hesitant.
"I'm trying to. I haven't seen her in nine years..." She paused a moment before continuing, "I'm staying with Dave and his wife, Susan."
She could hear him sigh in relief.
"Good."
Sara could hear Hank whimpering in the background. "Is that Hank? Is he okay?"
Grissom swallowed hard, trying to sound strong, "He hasn't left his spot by the door since I came home yesterday."
"Oh." She knew well what that meant.
"Are you coming home?" His voice was small now, and she could hear him hurting.
"I don't know," She spoke honestly, "I need to get better before I can even think of that... and I can't do that in Vegas."
"I understand." But he didn't really. He didn't want to. He just wanted her to come home.
There was a long silence between the two. He could tell she was trying to find the right words to say, so he waited patiently.
"I said I'll miss you, and I do." His own words echoed through the phone in her voice. The same words he'd written to her in the unsent letter from his sabbatical. He shut his eyes hard, swallowing down his emotion. He knew he needed to be strong for her.
"I'll be here when you're ready."
"Thank you." She whispered. "I should go."
"Okay. I'll talk to you soon?"
"Yeah. I'll uh, I'll keep in touch." She sighed. "I love you, goodbye."
Grissom listened as the tone on the other end went dead. Before he realized what he was doing, he was dialing,
"Crow."
"Dave, it's Gr—"
"Grissom. I was expecting a call from you. She's okay."
Dave could hear Grissom sigh on the other end, "She just called."
"This is what I was afraid of happening."
"I understand that now." Grissom spoke honestly, "What's the plan here?"
"There is no plan, Grissom. She needs to heal on her own time in her own way. Susan and I are just here to help when she asks. I think Susan is going to take her to see her mother later this week. When she's ready, that is."
"Okay. Thank you for looking after her, Dave. Let me know if there's anything I can do."
"I will. She's in good hands. Take care, Gil."
For the second time Grissom listened as the line on the other end went silent. His heart beat felt weak and slow. The pain in his chest further hindering his breathing. A deep seeded sadness washed over him as he looked around. She was everywhere, the plants on the windowsill, her throw blanket over the couch, her bathrobe still hanging in the closet, her face in photos everywhere he turned. Grissom sat down on the couch and let himself be vulnerable. He rested his face in his hands.
For the first time since he came home yesterday, Hank left his position by the front door and walked over to Grissom. Nudging his snout into Grissom's lap, resting his head there.