Your Forever Is All That I Need
By: FlowerPotBloom
Summary: I love you…I swear I still do… WS AU version of 1x2-"Cool Change" Content Warning: severe gambling addiction, separation, talk of divorce, suicide attempt
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, nor any of its characters. They are the sole creative property of Anthony Zuiker.
"Marriage 'is a marvelous gift, which contains the power of God's own love: strong, enduring, faithful, ready to start over after every failure or moment of weakness.'"
—- Pope Francis
~two~
Wednesday, October 18, 2000
It was late evening by the time Sara landed at McCarran Airport, picked up her luggage, secured her rental car, and then drove to Warrick's duplex. She saw his car in the driveway, and she was relieved that he was home, for if he wasn't, she wouldn't know the first place to look for him in this town other than the crime lab or his Grandmother's or Aunt Bertha's houses. Vegas was his hometown after all.
She parked the rental sedan on the street in front of the duplex, which was pretty nice, old, but nice, and located in a fairly nice neighborhood, looked like. She got out of the car, and she walked up the walkway to the front door. She rang the doorbell, and waited.
After a few moments, the door opened up, and Warrick looked at her, a mixture of surprise and relief written on his face, brightening his gray-blue eyes.
"Hi."
"Hi," he exhaled, gazing at her. "Babe…what-why…forget it, I don't care."
With that, he stepped out onto the front stoop and brought her into his arms, and she hooked her arms under his and buried her face into his chest, inhaling his scent, reveling in the feel of his strong muscles around her after two miserable years without him.
"I've missed holding you like this," he whispered against her shoulder. "Sara, babe…I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you too," she said softly.
They stood in the dusk, just holding each other for a long moment, before Sara pulled away and looked at her husband.
"Where's Ricky?" He asked.
"He's with Dana and Will."
"Good," he said.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah," he said.
He took her hand and led her inside, and then he closed the door.
She looked around. His place was neat, which didn't surprise her, Warrick was borderline OCD, he liked to be clean and neat, but she noticed that the decor was rather spare, like he'd never really settled in.
"Do you want something to drink?" He asked.
"Water, please," she requested, and he went into the kitchen and he took a glass out of the dish rack and he put some ice in it and poured water over the cubes.
He brought it to her.
"Here you go, babe," he said.
"Thank you," she said as she took a sip. "Um…your place here is nice…it could use a little personality though. It's not you."
"Yeah, I don't really spend much time here," he said.
She nodded as she sat down on the couch with him. "When we last talked on the phone, you sounded…scared. I'd never heard you sound like that before."
"I'm fine," he said. "I'm sorry I alarmed you. I was just…I had some things to deal with…"
She exhaled her irritation and she shook her head. "And you still can't bring yourself to be honest with me…when did you start to think that it was okay to lie to me about everything?"
"I don't think that, Sara," he said. "It's just…I can't talk about it."
"Why can't you talk about it? With me? Me? I'm still your wife, Warrick. You're still my husband. If you can't talk to me…unless you've found someone else to talk to-"
"No, of course not," he huffed. "No. There's no one else, I swear it."
"Then why can't you tell me what's been going on?" She asked. "Talk to me. Something has happened that has made you afraid, and I want to know what."
"Why did you come here?" He asked, completely skirting the issue.
"I came because I love and care about you," she said. "You're my husband, the father of my child. I want to know what has you so afraid. You owe this to me, 'Rick. Two years. You owe me an explanation."
"What do you want from me, Sara?"
"I want the truth."
That was what mattered in the end, he knew, but he couldn't even confront his sins with his priest at St. Joseph's, how was he ever going to confront them with his wife?
He didn't know what was stopping him. This was his wife, the woman he was desperately in love with, the mother of his son, the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the woman he utterly ached for…and maybe that was it. He loved her so much, but he'd let her down, let their son down, he'd left them, and he'd sunk further and further into the darkness. Even if he did come clean and tell her everything, she wouldn't want him anymore. He was too far gone, too wretched, too disgraced to ever have a hope of her wanting him back.
But he couldn't hold it inside anymore. Even if he didn't want to, he needed to open the floodgates and just let the waves come, even if it meant losing his wife and son.
He rubbed a hand over his face.
"Okay," he said.
He started from the beginning, told her how when he first moved back to Las Vegas, he just worked. Constantly worked, doubles, triples, even, all just to not come home, and to work off the debts he'd acquired. Then, the urge to gamble became too strong to resist, and here he was, in a city full of casinos where he could ease that urge. Before he knew it, he was working just so that he could gamble, and it turned into a vicious cycle. He tried other outlets, he would DJ at the clubs on the side, volunteer at the community center, but nothing quieted the numbers, and the possibilities running through his mind.
Then he was gambling during work hours, no longer able to keep his work and his addiction separate.
He kept going, telling her about placing bets for Judge Cohen, how he was corrupt, how his negligence and need to fulfill a favor for the judge had gotten Holly Gribbs killed, how the judge threatened her and Ricky if he didn't get his money.
"That's the worst part," he admitted. "I got Holly killed, and I placed you and Ricky in danger. This is the man I've become, and I hate myself."
The weight of shame and guilt and self-loathing slumped his shoulders.
She'd never seen her husband like this, but she appreciated that he told her everything. She had no idea how far he'd fallen, and all she wanted to do was hold him, tell him that they could work through it together. But could they?
Their separation had taken a toll on the both of them.
Sara tried everyday to shove the pain down, tried to tell herself that they needed it, she tried to feed the anger, and justify it with the fact that Warrick lied to her, that she couldn't trust him anymore. It got to a point where she couldn't even pray about it anymore, she couldn't go to their parish priest, who had asked on a few occasions where her husband was, that it'd been a while since he'd last seen them come to church as a family.
The truth was that she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She wanted some way to release the burning in her lungs, some way to ease the deep ache inside her. She still loved Warrick, was deeply in love with him, she wanted him, she wanted them. She wanted them to be a family again, she wanted the life they had together before the lies and darkness ripped it away from them.
"Do you want a divorce?" He asked.
"What?"
"Do you want a divorce?" He repeated.
"Divorce is a sin," she reminded him in a huff.
"I know that," he said. "But you didn't answer my question."
Sara shook her head. "I-I don't know…do you want a divorce?"
"It's what would be best, wouldn't it?" He asked. "I put you and Ricky in danger, Sara. I could lose my job here, I'm…not the man you married anymore."
"What about Ricky?" She asked quietly. "Our son needs you…"
"He needs you," he said. "I'm no good, Sara."
Sara wanted so much to scream, wanted so much to punch Warrick in the face.
"I need to go," she said, getting up and heading to the door. "I'm staying at Mama Gert's. I-I need to get out of here."
With that, she headed out.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
Sara didn't know how she made it to Mama Gert's house, but she did, and did safely, and that was only by the grace of God because she was distracted, a million thoughts running through her mind.
She parked on the street, and then she sat in the silence, breathing hard, shaking her head, her eyes closed tightly as she tried to hold down the scream that she was so desperate to get out.
She thought about what Warrick confessed to her, thought about Ricky, thought about divorce, thought about how utterly wonderful their life was before all of this, thought about how she wasn't good enough for him anymore…
Finally, she screamed, gripping the steering wheel as she screamed out her rage and guilt and sorrow, which was followed by violent, wracking sobs.
By the time she got her cry out, she had a throbbing headache, and she was tired, so tired.
She lugged her bags up the front porch and she rang the doorbell.
After a moment, Mama Gert opened the door.
"Come on in, Sara," she said, opening the door wider for her.
"Thanks," Sara said.
"Oh Sara," Gertrude said, bringing her granddaughter-in-law into a hug.
Sara trembled as more tears came.
"Warrick wants a divorce," Sara sobbed. "He wants to leave me for good…he's gonna leave me…"
"Oh baby girl, c'mon, let's sit down."
Gertrude ushered Sara over to the couch and they sat down.
Sara wiped her tears and then combed her fingers through her hair.
"He told me everything," she said. "I didn't realize how bad things had gotten for him here. He's given up on himself, on our marriage…I just want our life back."
"I know, baby," Gertrude said. "You've got to fight for Warrick, for your marriage. You've got to pray harder than you've ever prayed before."
"I can't pray about it anymore. It hurts too much."
"Baby, you've got to get on your knees," Gertrude said firmly. "Surrender your hurt, your anger, your disappointment to God. Get to a priest."
"I can't! I can't!" Sara sobbed. "I can't think, I-I can't breathe…"
"C'mon, Sara, let's get you to bed," Gertrude said.
Gertrude guided Sara down the hallway to the guest bedroom and Sara laid down on the bed, crying softly.
"Shh, it's okay, baby girl," Gertrude said softly as she pulled the quilt up and covered Sara. "Rest now. We'll talk more in the morning."
As soon as Mama Gert cut off the light and left, closing the door behind her, Sara closed her eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.
Warrick awakened with a sore back, stiff neck, and a headache, and it was then that he realized he'd fallen asleep on the couch, holding the framed portrait of his family to his chest.
Last night, after his wife left, he felt so guilty, and he was disgusted with himself for letting her go like that, for breaking her heart even more by suggesting that a divorce was something he wanted. He'd picked up the picture of the three of them, and his tortured heart couldn't take it as he looked at how happy they were, and thought about how he'd destroyed their happy home. He felt like he was drowning in this, trying to get to the surface where his wife and son were waiting, but the darkness of the deep kept pulling him under. That very darkness had engulfed him last night, the pain in his soul gripping his entire body like a vice, crushing him under its weight until he broke down into desperate, wracking sobs, all the while clutching the picture of his once happy family, until he was so exhausted that he fell asleep.
He set the frame back onto the coffee table, then he rubbed his hands over his face.
There was a knock at the front door, and he got up and went over and opened it up.
Catherine was on his front stoop.
"Catherine, what are you doing here?"
"Good morning to you too, Warrick," she drawled. "You gonna let me in?"
He stepped back and opened the door up wider and she walked in.
"Like what you've done with the place," she said, attempting a joke, but it fell flat.
"What's up?" He asked as he closed the door.
She sat down on the couch, and her eyes caught the picture of the Brown family, all smiling at the camera.
"Your wife's pretty," Catherine said. "You don't talk much about your wife and son, or your life in San Francisco before coming to Vegas. You look happy in this picture."
"Yeah, things were good then," he said curtly. "I assume you came over for a reason."
"Yeah," she said. "We got Holly's killer last night. She scratched him up pretty good, and his DNA matched the scrapings from her fingernails. He's going down hard."
"That's good news," Warrick said, relieved. "Thanks for letting me know."
She nodded. "Listen, Warrick. I know what it's like to have an addiction…"
"Catherine, I don't want to talk about it."
"I never wanted to talk about it either," she said. "Even when I was in way over my head. I pushed everyone away; my friends, my family. I thought I'd sunk so low that there was no going back, that I couldn't ever get back what I loved. I didn't think I would make it. I felt hopeless. I took an overdose."
Warrick would never have thought that strong, assured, alpha female Catherine would do something like that.
"My sister found me passed out, choking on my own vomit. I woke up in a hospital bed with restraints around my wrists. The doctor said I was lucky, and that I was pregnant. That gave me hope, and I knew that I had to get help, for myself, and for my baby. It took lots of work, but I made it. I still go to meetings because it's a fight. Everyday. It helps to have support from people who know and love you."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I'm telling you this because I know that you want a way out, that you want what you had," she said. "But you're your own worst enemy right now. You have a beautiful family that I'm sure misses you dearly. I just want you to know that there is hope and healing on the other side of this, and you don't have to get to the other side alone."
Warrick sighed. "Okay. I hear you."
Catherine stood up and headed to the door.
"I'm here for you," she said, then she headed out.
Warrick pulled his car in beside his grandmother's Cadillac in the driveway and killed the engine.
He got out of his car, and he opened up the gate to the chain link fence around the neat front garden and walked up to the screen door. He could see Mama Gert in the kitchen through the screen, and he scented the faint aroma of breakfast cooking.
He rang the doorbell, and Mama Gert looked up, and she came over and opened up the door for him.
"It's good to see you, baby," she said.
"It's good to see you too, Mama Gert," he said, hugging her and kissing her cheek.
"Sara's getting dressed," she said. "I made breakfast. C'mon, help me set the table."
"Yes ma'am," he said.
After a few moments, Sara came into the kitchen, and Warrick looked up at her, took her in. She dressed for the weather: a sleeveless button down blouse, and a denim skirt that came to her knees, and brown sandals. Her long hair was still damp and wavy from her shower, and she smelled like roses and vanilla. She looked gorgeous, but there was sadness in her eyes.
"Hi," he said, coming over to her.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Why don't you two sit? Have breakfast," Mama Gert said. "I ran out of orange juice. I'm going to run to the store, okay?"
Mama Gert grabbed her purse and keys, then she headed out, knowing that husband and wife needed privacy.
They sat down at the table.
The tension grew thick between them as Sara frowned, trying to breathe through her anger.
"Babe, I-"
"I am so, so angry at you!" She shouted tearfully. "I've been holding it in all this time, trying to be understanding and compassionate, but I just can't do it anymore, Warrick! And then you have the nerve to talk to me about divorce? Why? So you can just completely let me and Ricky go so you don't have to face any of it? After all that you've done to us? No…I'm not letting you off the hook!"
She got up and turned away from him, sobbing, and his heart shattered.
Warrick came up to her and he tried to embrace her, but she turned in his arms and tried to push him away.
"You selfish, miserable, lying bastard!" She yelled as she hit his chest. "I was never enough for you! You don't love me anymore! You don't love me!"
She sobbed against him and he wrapped his arms around her.
"I love you," he said, trembling. "I swear I still do. I love you, babe. And our son…I'm nothing without you and Ricky. Oh God, babe, I'm sorry. I am so sorry."
"Are you really?" She asked, pulling away from him.
"From my heart, babe," he apologized. "I'm sorry for the lies, for putting you and Ricky in danger, for walking away from you."
"You broke us," she cried. "No…we broke us. It's my fault too. I should've helped you, I should've given you support when you needed it. I was selfish too. I wanted you when things were good, and that's not fair to either one of us because we're not perfect. I love you. Ricky loves you. We need you."
He gently drew her back into his arms. "I need you. Whatever it takes to earn your trust back, babe, I'm willing to do it. I want us to be a family again."
Sara wrapped her arms around his waist and sank into him.
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