A/N: Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story and we're sorry for the long wait. Real life has gotten in the way but we hope to have less wait time between updates in the future. We hope you enjoy this next installment and as always drop us a line to let us know how we're doing :)
"Gil!"
Grissom turned towards the familiar gruff voice that called his name and smiled as he spotted his old friend sitting in a booth only a few feet away.
"Hi Jim."
He almost beamed as he slid into the seat in front of him, relieved to find a familiar face in a city that had grown estranged to him. After living on the Ishmael for so long he'd forgotten how harsh the city could be. Blaring horns and flashing neon signs that had once been background noise now seemed overwhelming, his mind having lost its ability to tune it out.
It seems Brass had read his mind: he had chosen a quiet cafe off-strip, far from the 24 hour tourist-ridden nightclubs. Grissom glanced around, his eyes pausing on the hanging bronze lamps, black leather chairs and spotless marble tabletops.
"This is a change." He remarked, a little bemused.
"Well I'd have taken you to Frank's, but hey."
"Pie still stuck to the seats?"
"Amongst other things… Didn't Sara tell you? He closed down."
"No. His steak and eggs get too pricey?"
"Rookie hitman job gone wrong, eight dead."
Grissom's brow shot up. "Okay, didn't see that coming."
"That's a first." Brass chuckled.
"I'm retired, I'm allowed to not know things anymore Jim." He answered amused.
As a waitress came by to take their orders of coffee and french toast, Grissom nervously checked his phone for any news from Sara.
She had insisted that she would be fine without him, that he should take advantage of being in town to reconnect. But he'd been worried sick from the moment she stepped out their door- not so much about the session she was undergoing which he knew held little risk, but rather the emotional rollercoaster she was being forced onto despite everything she had already been through.
He was doing his best to give her the support and love that she needed, but at times he felt helpless. He felt helpless as he thought of her balling up her fists against the cold metal of the MRI machine, he felt helpless when and most of all, he felt so utterly useless when she had called herself a burden. When she had, above it all, felt the need to apologise to him for the pain she was enduring.
But she had promised to call when the session was over or if anything went wrong, and right now what she needed was for him to trust her. If that meant blocking out the incessant voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him to jump into a taxi to be by her side, then that's what he would do.
"You alright there, Rodin ?" Brass's amused voice broke through his haze.
"What?" He asked, still lost in his thoughts.
"Everything okay?" Jim's ribbing tone had disappeared, replaced with concern at the crease in his friend's brow.
Grissom threw a last glance at his phone before slipping it back into his pocket and a slight shake of his head. "Yeah, fine."
Nodding, Brass straightened his napkin. "So…How's Sara doing?"
Gil's lips twitched into a small smile at the attempt at a casual tone. They had worked together long enough to know when something was off. Though neither was the type to press- some unspoken personal boundary had settled between them over the course of their friendship- they both cared too much to let the other off the hook so easily.
Grissom rubbed his forehead with a sigh, dropping his gaze to the table.
"That's a long answer."
"You'd be surprised how long it takes to get served here." Brass commented.
He took a deep breath in hope of calming the tremble in his voice.
"She's at…" Grissom trailed off, unsure where to start his story. Was there any good way to tell it? Would it just lead to someone else having to fend off the crushing worry he himself felt on a constant basis?
No. He'd come here to talk to Brass and he wasn't going to run away from it. Shaking off the doubts that whispered in his ears, he started again, this time from the beginning.
"She got a call from her doctor about some results. They refused to talk to her over the phone- go figure- so we turned the boat around and came back into town-"
"Results? Gil, is she sick?" Brass interrupted, shock and alarm reading on his face.
"She's not sick per se, but they ran a few more scans of her brain and…" He swallowed, his next words having lodged themselves in his throat. Closing his eyes, he forced them out, not realising how difficult they would be to utter.
"They… They found a lesion."
"A lesion?
"A tumour, in her case."
Brass stared at him shell-shocked, his face frozen in fear and disbelief.
"Sara has a brain tumour?"
Surprised at his own ability to still form words, he'd blurted them out and a few heads from the nearest table turned in concern.
Grissom quickly clarified, his voice lowered. "A pituitary tumour. It's not life-threatening, but it's not harmless either. It causes hormone imbalance that comes with some unpleasant symptoms. Her doctor suggested a few actions, we opted for radiation therapy. She's in a session right now."
"And it'll work, the therapy?" The panic in his voice had quelled a little.
"It should, and the risks are limited. I just…"
"You can't help it?" Brass gave him a sympathetic smile and a similar one pulled at Grissom's features. He'd have wondered how it had been so obvious just how worried he was, but the crease permanently chiselled into his brow probably spoke volumes.
"Yeah, I guess I can't."
"Look… you said it yourself, it's low-risk, right? Sara'll pull through, she's a fighter."
"I know she will. But… there's symptoms that take a little longer to fade out."
Brass cocked his head, confusion and concern quickly rushing back to his face.
"Her hormone levels might take time to even out, return to normal. But so far they've been the reason that she- that we… couldn't have children."
This time it was surprise that pulled at Jim's brow. "I didn't know you two wanted kids."
Grissom gave a weary chuckle, "Neither did I."
"Well what's stopping you? I mean after the whole thing's sorted out."
He paused again, unsure how to voice the worries that had preyed on his mind for the past weeks. "I… think it might be too late now, or at least by the time her endocrine system balances out again. I'm practically sixty, Jim. Not to mention retired. Hell, I can barely keep my boat going these days, so raising a child?" His voice pitched in doubt and he gave a small shake of his head.
"I'm not invalid either, but I can't vouch for my health in ten, fifteen, years. I don't think it's the best environment for a child to grow up in. And Sara… Sara would be a great mother, I have no doubt. But if she ends up having to take care of the child and me because I can't help her anymore… I'm not sure it's fair to her."
"Have you talked to her?"
"Not yet." Grissom furrowed his brow.
A question flashed through Brass's mind and he hesitantly voiced it, "It's not… It's not a deal-breaker, is it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean not having kids, does it mean you two…"
Grissom practically flinched at his question, "No!"
His friend's shoulders relaxed, but a tint of embarrassment blushed his cheeks. "Right, good, sorry, just wanted to make sure it was all ok."
"It's fine, but no. Having a child with her would be…" A smile drew itself across his lips as his mind drifted for a few seconds. "...Amazing. The only thing I want more is to spend the rest of my life with her. Whether that's here, on the boat, with a child or without, I just want to be by her side. Everything else… doesn't matter."
Brass grinned, "Gil Grissom, the big romantic. Who'd have thought?"
Grissom gave him a sad smile, "Took me long enough."
The clink of ceramic against marble broke through the heavy exchange and they both thanked the waitress for their coffee.
"Black?" Grissom asked.
"What, expected it Irish?"
Gil gave a short chuckle, recalling the last of many drinks he'd shared with his friend before his impromptu trip to Costa Rica.
"I don't think we've had breakfast before."
"Our breakfast was at 9pm, you know a lot of places that do a sunny side up right about then?"
Grissom quirked an eyebrow, "This is Vegas."
Brass conceded with a chuckle and a jerk of his chin.
"I put in for a shift transfer anyway, I'm on swing. Slower days, longer nights, it's easier. I'm getting old, y'know." He half joked.
"Tell me about it."
Sensing worry still concealed under his friend's light remark, Brass studied his face behind a sip of his coffee before setting it back down in its stained saucer.
"You know… when Nancy had Ellie, we weren't trying for a kid- probably should've been my first sign that there was something going on, but hey. Anyway, I was- I was pretty freaked out. I mean I was a rookie cop in Vegas, bullets were flying past my head every second night and uh, well I was scared that one bad day on the job would leave 'em both alone. But the second I saw her little face, oh, man." Brass turned from Grissom as he felt his eyes moisten.
Adjusting his shirt cuff and clearing his throat in an attempt to keep a reign on the emotions coursing through him, he continued. "It was like she gave me this super power. Nothing mattered other than keeping her safe, keeping her happy- I never made so many arrests in my career. Every one of them I told myself was for her. If I could keep the streets clean, then she'd be safe out there, y'know? And then after the job, all I ever wanted to do was go home to my gorgeous little girl. She had this smile and this laugh, melted my heart every time." He paused, his gaze still unfocussed as he reminisced, "When Ellie was five, Nancy and I told her what I did for a living. She ran to her room and came back with this tiny little plastic bunny- said it would protect me while I fought the bad guys. I took it with me everyday."
Leaning back into the leather sofa, Brass's nostalgic smile faltered. Flicking at his nose with his index, his eyes swivelled back to Grissom's. "But when I found out about O'Toole I um… I changed. I let the knowledge that Ellie wasn't my kid anymore trump the fact that I had loved her like she was. I tried but… It was easier to be at PD than to have to face a lie at home, so I just… Didn't really come home anymore. The divorce went through, Ellie was bounced around between households. I wasn't around, I wasn't a father to her anymore and by the time I tried to fix it, she'd grown up. I'd screwed things up beyond repair. But every time I saw her, I still saw my little girl, the sweet little five year old who gave her dad a toy to keep him safe. I still do. Maybe that was my mistake."
"The point is Gil- and I'm not about to say that parenting is a piece of cake, but showing up makes a difference. It doesn't matter that you're old, or that you work a lot, because just being there for your kid, making the effort of being in their life, it changes everything. And I know that you would, you and Sara."
Grissom smiled, deeply touched by his friend's reassurance. Brass had never told him his full story with Ellie, let alone shared the true extent of the regret and guilt he felt around it.
"Thank you, Jim."
"Yeah, 'course."
Grissom reflected for a few moments, evaluating whether or not Jim considered his daughter a closed subject. "Do you still visit her?"
"Ellie? Sure, when she's willing to see me- which isn't often. She's doing okay, well as okay as she can in prison. She's clean, at least." He shrugged.
"What about you?"
"I'm fine. Gets a little lonely sometimes in the ol' condo, but I might get a cat or something. Maybe a bird." He joked.
"You know you can always call either of us."
"Sure, how's the wifi in the Atlantic?" Brass ribbed.
"We've got a satellite phone."
"No I know, thank you Gil, but I'm alright. Really."
Grissom nodded, sipping at his now lukewarm coffee. Jim's honest words had done more to ease his nerves over a single conversation than he himself had managed over weeks of rationalisation. Maybe he wouldn't have been such a bad father after all, maybe he still could be.
Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, all thoughts of fatherhood instantly disappeared as his mind laser-focused on the text from Sara.
Just finished, feeling okay. Dr
said treatment is on track.
Say hi to Jim for me!
XO
He let out a sigh of relief before answering Brass's questioning look, "Everything's good, she's done. And she says hi."
Jim chuckled, equally reassured by the news. "Do you need to pick her up?"
Grissom answered sheepishly, "Yes, sorry, it was shorter than I expected. We haven't even eaten."
"That's okay, get it to go. I'm sure Sara's starving."
They both stood as Brass signalled for the waitress to wrap up their food.
"So uh, fourth of July then? One of us has a boat now." Jim joked.
"Huh?"
"Don't worry about it." He stuck out his hand for a firm shake, but Grissom surprised him as he pulled him in for a hug.
"Thank you, Jim. For everything."
"It wasn't much, thanks for taking the time to see your old buddy." He grinned as they pulled away, "and you'd be a great dad, it's probably just like raising cockroaches, right?"
Grissom quirked an eyebrow.
"Though don't race your kid for money, it's usually frowned upon."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Give me a call next time you're in town alright? And keep us updated on how Sara's doin'- you can sail away from Vegas but you can't get rid of us that easy."
"Will do," Grissom gave him one last nod as he turned away, "I'll see you around, Jim"
"You too, and say hi to Cookie for me." Brass called out. "Lucky bastard." He mumbled, shaking his head with a grin.
Catching the detective's quiet words as he reached the door, Grissom cracked a smile. He was damned lucky indeed.
