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by LSI |
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Chapters: Prologue 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
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Prologue He slept. A
white bandage wrapped his head, covering his ears and part of his
forehead. His skin looked
pale, almost ashen, having lost the dark golden hue that somehow gave
strength to his otherwise boyish features.
But he was no less beautiful, for beautiful was how she’d always
thought of him. Not in the
physical sense—in that sense, handsome would be a more accurate
description—but beauty in the inner man which combined personality and
genuine affection for those closest to him and for the underdogs of the
world. And she couldn't forget his mind, for he
had a beautiful mind.
Intelligent, original, strange…three attributes that set him
apart from everyone else, the same attributes that had earned him
respect and sometimes ridicule. And
unique. That
was the only way Sara would have described him if challenged to do so in one
word.
That
was why she was here, despite the heaviness in her heart, despite having
felt the sting of his rejection a few days ago, despite his betrayal of
their friendship and trust if indeed they had ever existed.
Why
hadn’t he told her? As
she gazed at him through the narrow rectangular glass in the hospital
room door, her throat constricted and tears filled her eyes.
Had it not been for Catherine calling a team meeting to brief
them on Grissom’s condition, she might never have known about it.
Not for certain, anyway. She’d
often suspected something was wrong with his hearing, but hadn’t been
able to confirm it. Her
initial reaction to Catherine’s announcement had been concern for his
well-being, but it had quickly been followed by an odd sense of
disloyalty on his part. Without
a word she’d left the break room and headed for the parking lot to escape from the jumble of confusing thoughts and emotions that had
filled her head and her heart. Catherine
had followed her out. “Sara—wait,”
she’d shouted quickening her step until she reached her; when Sara
kept walking, Catherine had grabbed her elbow and turned her to face
her. “What’s—“
Whatever
she’d been about to say died on her lips.
Sara looked away and stared into the distance, unable to meet her
eyes.
“Where’re
you going?” “Home.” “Oh.
I heard from the hospital earlier.
He’s out of surgery and doing well.” Sara
nodded. “Good.” “I’m
on my way there…would you like to come with me?” “Nope.
If he wanted me there he would have told me about it.” “He
didn’t tell anyone.” “He
told you,” she said quickly. Catherine
smiled wryly. “Only
because he had to, and I went to the hospital on my own, not because he
asked me to.” Sara stared
off into the distance again. “C’mon,
Sara. I’m sure he’ll be
pleased to see you.” Sara
doubted it, but she was wavering. She
really did want to see him if only to reassure herself that he was okay.
But she couldn’t help thinking she’d be trespassing.
What an odd feeling to have for a man who’d meant more to her
than anyone else ever had. Had
she only imagined a bond between them?
Until recently, she’d been so convinced they shared a mutual
attraction that she’d dared suggest they have dinner together to see
where it led. Sure, a near
catastrophe had propelled her to take that first step, but it had been
what she’d wanted to do for a long time.
What
a fool she’d been. He’d
never shared anything with her, not his hearing loss, let alone anything
as deeply personal as an attraction to her.
And,
without a word, he’d effectively driven that point home.
But,
despite all that, she’d still felt compelled to see him, and as if
sensing her hesitation, Catherine had given her one last nudge.
“Come on, I’ll drive.” Sara
had agreed to go, but declined the lift.
That way, she’d told Catherine, she could go straight home from
Desert Palm. So
she’d followed her, and now stood outside his room unconsciously using
the thick metal door as a shield for the myriad of emotions that coursed
through her. A nurse who’d
been hidden from view suddenly appeared at his bedside to take his
pulse. Sara blinked in
surprise, like a voyeur caught in the act, and took a small step back.
Then sensing Catherine’s gaze on her, she turned, taking in the
sympathetic smile that softened her features.
“Go ahead,” Catherine urged gently.
She
hesitated momentarily, then, taking a deep breath, she slowly entered
the room. She
took tentative steps toward the bed her eyes transfixed on the man whose
power over her heart permeated even his anaesthetic-induced sleep.
He lay very still, a light blue cotton bed sheet covering him up
to his chest. His arms
rested on top of the sheet close to his body; an IV drip protruded from
his left wrist. The
nurse turned from what she’d been doing by the bank of monitors on the
far wall and removed the IV from his arm.
“Your husband?” she asked from across the bed. Sara
eyes darted to her and she shook her head quickly.
“No, a—“ She’d been about to say 'friend', but he
wasn’t even that was he? Tears
welled up in her eyes again and she looked away, “No,” she said. “He’s
doing fine,” the nurse said soothingly, misinterpreting her reaction.
“He should wake up soon; take your time, I’ll be back
later.” With that she left
the room. Sara
already knew he was going to be okay—the doctor having said as much
when she and Catherine had first arrived at Desert Palm—but she
doubted she ever would be again. Of
its own accord, her hand reached for his, but she stopped it just in
time. She ached to touch
him, to lie down beside him and put her arms around him, but she quelled
the impulse. He didn’t
belong to her. She’d
finally realized that the possessiveness she’d felt towards him in the
past had been misplaced, and despite what she’d said to the contrary,
Sara suspected that directly or indirectly he’d chosen Catherine to be
the one by his side throughout this ordeal.
Suddenly,
his eyes fluttered open and bore into hers.
He blinked a few times as if trying to focus.
Their vibrant blue had paled to a cloudy grey.
She saw the confusion there, as if she were the last person
he’d expected to see. “Sara?”
he said, his voice hoarse. “Hi,”
she returned softly, managing a small smile. “Sara…”
he closed his eyes briefly then opened them again.
“I didn’t want you here.”
She
winced and wrapped her arms around her midriff in a reflexive attempt at
self-protection. How many
times would he have to reject her before she got it?
She vehemently regretted not having trusted her instinct to stay
away. “Right.”
She swallowed past a lump in her throat and fought back another
onslaught of tears. She
would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her.
“I was just, uh, leaving. I
hope you’re better soon.” She held his gaze briefly before turning and leaving the room without a backward glance. Catherine rose from where she sat across the hall, but Sara didn’t acknowledge her. She kept walking and didn’t stop until she’d reached her car. |
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Author’s
Note: The characters of CSI were created by A. Zuiker, and are the property of CBS and its affiliates. All other characters depicted in this story are fictional; they are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author. Although the locales in this story are real, all events, incidents and characters are pure invention. © May 2004. LSI.
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