September 2026
Sara stood in front of the kitchen sink, looking out the window that overlooked the garden Grissom had planted all those years ago. A garden he still maintained everyday. She watched as the leaves gently swayed from the ocean breeze coming off the pacific just a few blocks down the road. Sunflowers stood tall, wild leafy plants tangled together. All the plants that attracted butterflies: Allium, Aster, Monarda and Buddleia.
She felt Grissom come up behind her, resting his head on her shoulder as he too looked out the window, seeing now the scene she'd been watching: Their children laid in the grass under the White Adler tree, stomaches down feet kicked up dangling above their backs. Their heads rested in their hands, flipping the the pages of their respective books. Every now and then Warrick would look up and say something, and without looking up from her book, Aurora would respond.
"Sometimes its still hard to believe this is our life, Gil." She spoke softly, not taking her eyes off their children. She felt him nod against her and breathe in deeply, filling his scenes with her lavender scent.
"I planted that White Adler tree the day we found out you were pregnant. Do you remember that?" Grissom but whispered in her ear. His warm breath kissing her cheek. She smiled and buried herself further in his embrace, his hands rested on her mid-section, pulling her closer to him as they continued to watch their children. The lives they created together, watched learn and grow and become the adolecents they were today.
"I don't know what I'm going to do when they go off to college." Sara spoke honestly. She'd never wanted to be one of those parents, one that felt lost without their children close, or who hung onto their childhoods so tightly that they couldn't grow or be independent. But with Eli now off at Stanford now, the thought tended to cross her mind often.
"We've got a few more years before we have to think of that." Grissom kissed the top of her head before he spoke his next words, "But I have an idea."
She turned in his embrace, "Oh?"
"Let's travel—I mean really travel. Let's go to Egypt and Israel. To Budapest and Prague. Through the mountains of Niece and canoe Amanzimtoti River in South Africa. Let's work in an medical field station in Namibia or Uganda. Let's see the world." His eyes implored, blue and bright and full of excitement.
Sara smiled her signature Sidle-gap toothed grin. "Okay."
Grissom kissed her lips softly before leaving the embrace to pick up to Sunday newspaper on the counter.
"You cold have at least waited for me to attempt it before finishing it." Grissom spoke through a sigh.
"Excuse me?" She watched as he held up the Sunday crossword puzzle, all filled out, in pen. She smiled, "That wasn't me."
The two looked out the window once more to their Children as they spoke in unison, "Aurora."
Both of their children were smart and curious, but Aurora tended to care more about that intelligence than her brother. She actively sought the approval and recognition from authority figures, worked ahead on all her homework and school work, and had an insatiable appetite for reading. Warrick, on the other hand, was more tactile in his learning. His intelligence and curiosity was often exercised by doing rather than reading. Grissom had once found him outside staring at a caterpillar for more than an hour. When he was through watching it, he sketched out the mechanics of the insect's movements. He loved to observe life and understand its workings. His grades tended to suffer slightly because of this—Making him a B student. But Gil and Sara saw the intellect in him, even though the school system skewed against thinkers like Warrick.
Grissom and Sara often spoke to lengths about how, in a way, these children were their own experiment. Raised in the same conditions but having varied outputs.
"They're going to ask one day." Sara spoke a bit absently. But she didn't need to expand. He knew what she was referring to. He knew that she worried about how and when they'd learn of the true evils of the world. When they would learn about how Warrick Brown really died, about what really happened to Sara's father and where Sara's mother actually was. She worried about how they would receive the ideas that such random acts of evil can occur to anyone anywhere. From Tina dying at the hands of a drunk driver to Sara being kidnapped by Natalie Davis.
"We can be proactive." Grissom responded just as absently and she smiled at this. Grissom, suggesting proactive communication. After all these years, after all this time, she still saw the shy, socially awkward scientist when she saw him, despite how far he'd truly come.
"I don't know..."
"Okay, why don't we wait for an opening." This was his way of saying, we'll play it by ear. And with no better solution or counter she nodded in agreement.
Later that night, the Grissom's sat around the table and shared the meal that Warrick and Grissom had prepared.
"It's still a little weird not having Eli here." Aurora spoke as he mindlessly forked at her food.
"He'll be back next month for fall break." Grissom offered, "He'll be here for a whole week."
"But we'll be in school for most of that." Aurora countered.
"Speaking of school..." Warrick's conversational seaways were a mirror of his fathers, abrupt and awkward. Sara Smiled at this, "We're doing this family-tree type project at school where we're supposed to find out everything about our families as we can online..."
Grissom and Sara exchanged a quick and unsubtle look. It was as if by some strange universal alignment, or comedic timing, that this opening would come about mere hours after they'd discussed the topic. They waited for Warrick to find his words. He continued,
"There was some stuff online that I came across..."
"What kind of stuff?" Grissom pried. Trying to decide which horrific story they'd have to discuss with their children at almost 9 and 11 years old.
"Well when you google my name, it comes up as if I'm searching for Warrick brown and you, Dad. So... there were these articles about how Warrick died..."
Okay, Grissom thought, that one is probably a good starting point. But then Warrick continued:
"And then some stuff came up about mom..."
Sara put down her water nervously. She felt Gil's warm hand lay on her thigh, just above her knee in an attempt to comfort her.
"Well, about Grandpa Richard more so—ouch!" Warrick yelped and looked toward Aurora who now held a stern, warning look. It scared Grissom how much that look reminded him of Sara. Thin lipped and daring. "What was that for!?"
Aurora simply shook her head, "We said we wouldn't bring this up." She whispered, but she knew there was no use, her parents could hear her.
"Now, now. Yes—there are some dark things in our families past. Many of which you've just hinted at. But all of these events, they happened a long, long time ago. Long before either of you were born. It's okay to be curious about it though." Sara spoke steadily, surprising even herself. "I don't want either of you to ever feel like you can't ask us something."
"So what actually happened to Grandpa Richard? And where is Grandma Laura?"
Sara took a deep breath, "My father... Your Grandpa Richard died when I was as old as you, Aurora. Your Grandmother has a mental disorder called schizophrenia, this was uncovered after his death. She spends her days now in a care facility in San Fransisco that can look after her."
"How come we've never met her?" Aurora's voice was very small, almost afraid like she'd upset her mother with the question.
"To be honest, it's still hard for me to visit her. But she knows about you both, asks about you all the time." She paused a moment as she looked to Grissom for confirmation, "If you two would like to meet her one day, that's something we can discuss."
But it was already onto the next topic for Warrick, "Who's Natalie?"
Sara opened her mouth but nothing came out. Just hearing the name made her old injuries throb. Grissom moved closer to Sara now and held her hand in his, squeezing softly.
"Natalie Davis," Grissom cleared his throat a bit, "Well actually, she was the most meticulous and inventive serial killer our team ever encountered during our days as CSIs." He proceeded to tell his children of the little miniature sets, exactly 1 inch scale models of the murders that would be left at the scene. He went on to discuss M.O., her mental disorder and the way in which the team found her. Trying his best to frame it in a way that wouldn't scare them. But they had so many questions, it was clear that this woman's heinous acts didn't unnerve them.
"Okay, but what does any of this have to do with mom?" Warrick asked bluntly.
"Do you remember last year when you asked me what was the most scared I've ever been?"
Warrick nodded his head slowly, "You said when you though you lost mom. Because you went out to sea without her."
"Well, only the first part of that was true." Grissom confessed. He proceeded to tell his children of the scariest 24 hours of his life. How he felt upon seeing the miniature in his office. How the team had found out about their relationship. About finding a hiker in the sand.
Sara sat quietly as he retold the story. And realized for the first time, she'd never heard his perspective of these event. She'd never heard about what happened as they searched for her, how he felt, the conversations that had taken place. It was like reliving the days in his eyes, and her heart began to constrict, realizing how much pain he must have gone through. Realizing that he was healing emotionally while she was healing physically. Realizing that he'd been so broken up, but kept himself together for her. Realized now, the full impact her departure from Vegas must have left on him.
"You really dug yourself out from under a car!?" Warrick asked with awe.
"I did." Sara said softly, "And I had a dislocated shoulder at the time to prove it." She said in an attempt to lighten up a bit.
The kids spoke simultaneously: Warrick, "Wow!" Aurora, "That must have been scary."
This statement alone show'd the vast difference in the children. Warrick focusing on the silver lining of every situation, blind to negativity or fear. While Aurora was incredibly emotionally mature and perceptive. In truth neither Gil or Sara knew where she got that from as it was a definite flaw in both of their personalities.
"Your mom is the strongest person I know." And he meant it.
March 2033
Aurora sat alone in her room with the door closed. Sitting on the floor with her back against the bed frame. She took a deep breath in, crinkling the envelope in her hands. She wasn't quite sure what outcome she wanted in all of this. And her parent's lack of bias on the matter made things surprisingly harder. One finally breath, deep filling her lungs. She held it as she ripped open the envolope:
Ms. Aurora Grissom,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Harvard University for admission in our undergraduate program this fall, 2033.
Aurora stopped reading and shoved the papers back in the envelope as she heard the front door open. She quickly lifted her mattress and stuffed the papers there along with six or seven other letters and folded the bedding over it.
Grissom saw Aurora's shoes by the door, her backpack there beside them. The mail thrown hastily on the counter. He closed his eyes briefly. He often tried to suppress his investigator instincts when it came to the kids. But he often couldn't help it.
There was the one time last year when he'd known she'd had a boy in her room. Small flakes of dirt had lead upstairs, evidence that someone hadn't taken their shoes off. There had been two water glasses abandoned on the dining room table, small bits of ice floating in one told him they weren't set there for too long. A chewed pencil laid next to one glass. He remembered the feeling of his stomach dropping, a large lump forming in his throat. At that point, neither he nor Sara had established any rules or guidelines for that—their daughter was 16 at the time and neither had even thought of the subject. Then, he had quickly retreated to the home office and dialed Sara's number:
"Hey Gil."
"There's a boy in her room."
"Excuse me?"
"Dirt on the carpet; two abandoned water glasses—one with ice still; chewed pencil;"
He had heard Sara's low laugh on the other end, "Okay. What should we do about that?"
"That's why I'm calling you."
Sara smiled at this. Grissom became visibly uncomfortable whenever Aurora was framed in a light other than that of a child or intellectual. It reminded her a little of how Brass used to view Elle, unable to see anything but the six year old coloring.
"I'll be home in five."
"So—uh... you know. What do I—" She could just picture his fingertips touching together with awkward hesitation.
As promised Sara had been home less than five minutes later, having already been on her way when Grissom's call came in. She walked in and saw all the microscopic evidence that Grissom had seen, concluding to his theory of an extra guest in her room. Sara walked upstairs, making sure her footsteps weren't too quiet. She knocked two fingers on her daughters door.
"Come in."
Sara opened the door and found her daughter sitting on the floor with a textbook in her lap, a boy sat across from her with a notebook and pencil in hand. He quickly stood.
"Mrs. Grissom." He held his hand out to shake hers. "It's nice to meet you."
"Mom, this is Jake Phillips. He's in my Econ class."
Sara smiled widely at Jake as he took his seat back on the floor. "Nice to meet you, Jake." Sara closed the door a little bit behind her as she moved in toward her daughter. In a low voice she spoke, "Aurora, you're going to give your dad a heart attack." Aurora furrowed her brow in confusion, Sara waited for it to click for her and watched as Aurora's eyes widened and red spread across her cheeks.
She threw her face in her hands, "Ugh, mom. We're just studying."
"In the future just study in the living room or leave the door open.
Now, a year later, Grissom found himself just as unable to ignore the evidence in front of him. He sighed as he climbed the stairs to reach Aurora's room. He knocked gently until he heard her softly speak "Come in."
"Hey kiddo."
"Hey dad." Aurora sat with her back still against the bed a textbook in her lap. But it was a textbook from last year's class, clearly she'd picked up the closest thing laying next to her. Evidence Grissom couldn't ignore. He took a seat next to her on the floor.
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you rushing home to beat me or your mother here every day. The mail quickly discarded on the counter." He raised one brow.
"Oh."
"Whatever is going on with your college applications, you can tell me."
Aurora turned around and lifted her mattress, letting Grissom see underneath to the scores of discarded envelopes. He sorted through them quickly, eyes wide. "Aurora..." He merely whispered. "This is incredibly. You should be proud of yourself." He watched as she shrugged, diverted her eyes and bit her lip.
"Are you nervous about something?"
"I just don't know what to do... The Harvard one came in today."
"Well, what are you thinking?"
"I don't know. I could go to your alma mater and stay closer to home at UCLA, or I could go across the country to mom's alma mater and go to Harvard. Or I can be with Eli in Sanford now that he's doing a graduate program there. I could accept Berkeley, mom's other alma mater and I'd be close to Grandpa Dave and Grandma Sussie... Or I could go to Georgetown where Uncle Harry just took that professorship..." Grissom had a big smile plastered to his face. At the sight of this she cut herself off from talking, "What?"
"Your mother does the same thing—over talking when she's nervous." Grissom tucked a loose hair behind Aurora's ear, causing her to look up. She still looked so much like a child, It was hard for him to believe they were having this conversation at all. Her knees tucked up to her chest, long arms wrapping around her legs.
"I'm afraid to make the wrong choice."
"Things that matter most must never be at the mercy of things that matter least." He let his words sit there for a while as the silence between them persisted.
"Johann Wolfgang von Goethe?"
"Correct." Grissom smiled, watching Aurora's face light up, "But I'm not quizzing you. What I mean to say is—It doesn't matter where you are in relation to us, your grandparents, uncle Harry. It doesn't matter if you go to one of our alums or not. Nor does it matter, really, what school you ultimately choose. What matter's is what you do with your time there. So, make a list of your interests, what course work you'd like to follow, what extra-curriculars intrigue you, and pick a school that excels in those programs. Nothing else matters."
Aurora jumped into Grissom's arms, hugging him tightly. He rubbed small comforting circles on her back, "I think that's exactly what I needed to hear." She breathed.
June 2033
Warrick rushed toward Aurora at the sight of her, still wearing her white cap and gown, nearly bulldozing her over with a big hug. He picked her up and spun her around. "Put me down!" She cried through a laugh as he carried her over to Grissom, Sara and Eli.
"Congrats, Rory" Eli smiled as he fist bumped her.
Sara wrapped her up in a hug, "We're so proud of you." She whispered into her ear and kissed her forehead. Grissom swept her up once Sara let go. She watched the sight fondly as they held a long embrace. How had so much time passed? It felt like just yesterday that he was holding her in his arms, wrapped in a small pink blanket, agreeing on her name.
That summer, Aurora and Grissom spent countless nights together walking the length of the beach, observing bugs in the garden and debating various intellectual conundrums. But soon the day came when she was off to school: She'd ultimately decided on Harvard, noting that it had nothing to do with her mother's or Harry's previous attendance there. And when that day came, and it was just Warrick, Grissom and Sara sitting around the dinner table, Sara could see the conflicting emotions in Grissom's eyes as he continued to sneak glances at the empty seat beside him.