Disclaimer: Still don’t own it. Summary: It was not even really a mistake nor was all of this really his fault, but still he could somehow be blamed. Character Death. SaraGreg Rating: PG-13 Notes: Thanks to Emmithar for the beta. Nothing Else Chapter 1: Abruptly What pulled him out of the comfort of the light slumber he was still in was the admittedly unnerving ring-tone of his cell-phone. Luckily he had not put it far away from his bed. Tiredly Greg reached out for it, feeling Sara moving next to him as well. “Sanders,” he picked up, his voice sounding raspy from sleeping. He listened to his boss on the other side of the line, throwing a glance at the digital clock on the night stand, noticing that it was still more than three hours until his shift would actually start. He had gone to sleep only two hours ago. He tried to concentrate on what Grissom was saying and half a minute later he put down the phone, sighing, turning around to his girlfriend. Sara was awake, looking at him questioningly. “Grissom wants us to come in early. They have a large scene in Henderson. He’ll meet us there.” Their intention to catch up on sleeping had obviously failed. Sara got up quickly, Greg following a little reluctantly, not really enjoying the prospect of getting in early, especially to such a large scene as it had sounded in Grissom’s description. It would probably mean that the next day would be well-advanced before they would be finished. His plans on taking Sara out had been interfered for two subsequent weeks now, due to an early call-in, a double shift or other mostly work-related issues always getting in their way. When Greg had finally managed to get out of bed and dressed in some random shirt that had been lying around, too tired to really care, he made his way into the kitchen, hearing Sara already rummaging around there. She had started brewing coffee and Greg was more than thankful for it. Ten minutes later they had both crammed down some bits of food and some hot coffee, hurrying to get out of the house. Greg was only too ready to let Sara drive them to the scene, even though they were using his car. He was tired and exhausted from the last day that had once again included a double shift. Sara seemed to cope with it way better. Of course she had more years of experience than he did with being called in early when you were actually supposed to sleep. Working in DNA had meant at least comparatively steady hours, at least starting hours, even though he had often needed to stay longer when results were needed urgently in hot cases or when they were especially swamped and he needed to catch up. His thoughts had drifted away in this manner while they were driving and Sara had remained almost silent, the only sound being the quiet sound of some news station coming out of the radio. At first she only threw some glances at him, frowning. “You’re okay?” Sara finally asked him. Greg lifted his head from where he had laid it on his arm that leaned on the door of the car, looking at her. “Yeah.” He was okay. Tired, but fine apart from that. He only had to manage to not fall asleep right now. “You are so quiet,” Sara argued. That was how she would always notice when something was wrong with him and Greg chuckled briefly because of it, causing Sara to smile as well. “I’m just tired,” he told her truthfully. Sara nodded silently, obviously satisfied with this answer. When they finally arrived at the scene and were getting out of the car, Greg saw Grissom standing not far away from their parking spot, waiting for them. The cool night air helped Greg in getting awake and he hoped that he would not be stuck somewhere in sticky air inside. Grissom led them towards an old warehouse that was surrounded by several other derelict buildings. They entered, followed by a police officer, greeting several others who were already waiting inside. The scene itself was unclear, several smaller rooms lying on each site of a larger storeroom, and full of debris. The power did not work so their only sources of light were their flashlights. “We have four dbs altogether,” one police officer told them. “Two behind there,” he added, pointing at the room at very end of the building. “One in the next room, and another one in the storeroom.” Grissom turned around to Greg and Sara. “Sara, you take the db over there,” he pointed with his flashlight into the general direction of the storeroom. Greg did not see the body though that was supposed to be there, as it was way too dark and the flashlight illuminated only a small part of the room. “Greg, you come with me,” Grissom said then and Greg nodded and followed his boss, the police-officer who had just reported about the bodies walking in the front, while Sara stayed behind, turning to work the db in the storeroom. Greg looked quickly over his shoulder back at her but she had already turned away so that he did not catch her gaze again. Later, he told himself. Greg took in his surroundings, letting his flashlight wander, following Grissom’s steadily held light in front of him. He assumed that they would need hours and hours to process the whole scene. Evidence could be found everywhere, but the scattered debris would especially aggravate their task. Greg wondered ironically why people could not be killed in more neatly arranged surroundings. They entered a small room and Greg was soon able to see the body of a man in the glow of his flashlight. It was half covered with a blanket that concealed the face of the man. “Greg, you take this room,” Grissom ordered. “Don’t overlook anything,” he added and walked towards the neighboring room where the last two bodies were supposed to be. Greg frowned but turned to work then. He heard how his boss and the police-officer left the room, and crouched down to get a better look on the body. He would have to remove the blanket to be really able to see the area around the body. He took some pictures first so that the scene could be reconstructed later. Then he started to carefully pull on the blanket with gloved hands, realizing quickly though that it was caught on the other side under a heavy board. He tried to shove that aside but found out immediately that this had been a bad idea, when the wall next to him started to crunch and more debris that had been stabilized by the board before fell down. Greg cursed at first quietly when it landed on the body, but swore then louder when some of it hit him as well. “Can somebody help me here please?” he called, hoping for someone to come up and help him stabilize the scene again. He was neither keen on getting anything of all of this on his head, nor on getting into trouble because the body had been harmed, or rather damaged. The dead one could not really be harmed anymore. One moment later the officer that had accompanied them earlier into this room walked in and approached to help Greg who looked thankfully at him. Greg never really knew what happened. From one moment to the other shots were ripping through the previously quiet night in that the only sounds had been the quiet talks between the officers at the scene. The shots were instantly followed by shouts, more shots throughout the whole warehouse and eerily crunching and breaking of stone and wood. Flashlights that had been shining died suddenly, while others were switched on quickly. Chaos occupied the scene and when it had been conquered some minutes later, the officer in charge had the hardest task, when he had to make a call to the crime lab to report that they had two injured and one dead CSI. TBC
That was FANTASTIC!!! I love Sara and Greg I hope that....no you wouldn't do that to us!! Right update soon please
Chapter 2: Firmly Sara crouched down and examined the body in front of her, letting the flashlight slowly wander over it. Greg and Grissom had left only some minutes ago to process the bodies in the back rooms of the building and she was here on her own, with two police officers nearby though, to examine this part of the warehouse. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction where Greg and Grissom had gone, not able to see anything in the darkness. Greg had been so quiet tonight, and that had worried her a little. Knowing him for many years and living with for more than one had taught her that usually something was wrong when he did not talk. He had reassured her that he was only tired and maybe that was even true. The last couple of weeks had drained them both, although it seemed to take a greater toll on Greg. Sara hoped that they would find some more time off work in the next few days that they could spend together. And she did not define the both of them wading through cold water to recover a floater as quality time, which was something they had done only the previous night. She wished they had another source of light than their flashlights to work with in the warehouse as the lack of it made the working in an area as large as this especially difficult. But until someone had arranged another lighting, she would have to deal with it as it was and one of the officers had told her that they were working on it. After she had finished her primary examination over the body, she stood up again, walking around the near area. It was then that she heard the sudden eruption of shots in the backside of the building, followed by shouts all around her. Startled she stood nailed to the spot for a second, wondering what had happened, when she felt a sudden, fierce pain in her left upper arm, even before she realized that she was shot at. She slumped on the floor, hearing more gunfire around her. Her only thought was to stay down and wait and pray that it would be over soon. She could have misheard it, but in addition to the shots, the sounds of breaking wood and stone seemed to come out of the back of the building. Movement had started around her and she saw the glowing of flashlights hastening past her on either side. Then it was suddenly over, the gunfire had stopped, but it did not become quiet again as now urgent calling started around her. Sara slowly lifted herself up, remembering only now that she had been hit, feeling the pain return that she had not noticed for the moments of utter fear. She brought up her flashlight to get a look at the wound. It had been a stripe shot and although blood was trickling from the wound it did not seem to be too serious. She was trembling slightly, looking around nervously into the confusion around her. Then she was dazzled by a flashlight that was coming directly up to her, before the officer lowered it, asking after her state. When he saw the bleeding wound on her arm, he quickly ensured her that paramedics had already been called and would be at the scene soon, but she only shook her head, asserting him that it wasn’t so bad, wanting then to know instead what had happened. She was starting to worry for Greg and Grissom now. She did not really know how much had gone on in the backside of the house where the shooting had started. She did not want to expect the worst. There was no reason for her to expect that. She had gotten off lightly and Grissom and Greg would have, too. There was no indication, no reason for her to believe that it was different. The officer could not really tell her anything but only suggested that she went outside to wait for the paramedics there, assuring her that they had now everything under control. Sara protested that she wanted to wait for her co-workers before she went outside, but the officer did not admit that, but led her outside instead. She walked with him more or less willingly, looking back over her shoulder to see if she was able to get a glimpse on the back of the building or maybe see Grissom and Greg coming out as well. She waited outside for some minutes, surrounded by several officers, some of them being hurt as well, although none of the injuries seemed to be too bad. Then she saw the officer who had been in charge of the scene coming out of the building. He threw a brief glance at her and Sara hoped that she had only imagined the look of sorrow. He talked quietly with two near standing men before he brought out his phone and called somebody. Sara was not able to understand anything of what he was saying and wished she had Grissom’s ability to read lips. That was the time when not only one, but several ambulances pulled up in front of the building and it frightened Sara. If they had called for more than one, how bad was the situation actually? She wanted to make her way over to the officer in charge, determined that she would get answers out of him, here and now, but two paramedics were already coming up to her and started talking to her and attending her wound before she had the opportunity to get away. She winced from time to time, while they were treating her injury, hoping, praying that Greg and Grissom would finally come out, as their long absence gave her a real scare. Several paramedics had gone inside the building. Soon one of them was coming back outside, and talked to the officer in charge. Sara watched all of this fearfully, unbelieving that it was happening. Greg and Grissom had to be okay, they simply had to be. She thought she heard a policeman nearby telling how two assailants had been shot inside. About the condition of the two CSI who were still in the building, he did not know anything though. After the paramedics had finished their first aid on her, Sara made her way determinedly over to the man who should know more than her. “Where are my colleagues?” she asked directly and had to see the look of sorrow again. “I’m sorry,” the officer told her and now nothing could hold Sara anymore. She wanted to enter the building but a paramedic who came out of it tried to stop her. “You better not go inside,” she said, but Sara shook her head. “This is a crime scene, I’m a CSI and you will let me go in there. Now.” “Sara, that’s not good idea,” a voice called her now from behind and a hand on her shoulder held her back. Sara turned around angrily only to face Catherine. In the first second she only wondered why her co-worker had suddenly come to the scene; in the next she noticed the sorrow in the woman’s expression. She was pale and seemed to have cried, although she was not doing so now. Catherine led Sara away from the warehouse, while they could see how the paramedics were packing out several body bags. Catherine seemed to struggle for words, seemed to search for a start how she could tell Sara. “No,” Sara said suddenly, quietly. “No, I have to go in there. Greg needs my help.” She turned around again, and struggled to get away from Catherine who had been holding her arm. The blonde woman let her go resignedly and Sara marched back towards the building, despite protests from several sides. She was afraid of what she would see inside, but she could not stop, the only aim in her mind being to find Greg. Greg. They had woken up next to each other only a little more than an hour ago. It could not have been the last time. She had to remind herself to take deep breaths, to not panic, when the fear was rising up in her. Sara would remember it later only as a blur how suddenly two paramedics emerged from the building, carrying a stretcher on that Greg was lying motionlessly. Sara stopped dead when she saw them, but bolted forward then, assailing the paramedics with desperate questions. The only thing she did after they had answered her condolatory, was to cry while she took and held Greg’s hand firmly, unwilling to let go. TBC
I'm glad you like it so far. Chapter 3: Finally The paramedics had finally made Sara let go of Greg’s hand. Sara was standing near the ambulance now, rubbing her eyes, trying to stop the tears from streaming. She had to get herself together now, had to be strong for her friends. Crying could come later, later when everything was over. Although over never really would come, in view of that they had lost a friend today. Sara rubbed away the tears one final time, marching towards the ambulance then. “I want to come with him,” she told the two paramedics who were just climbing into the vehicle. Sara noticed that she sounded way more determinedly and firmly than she was actually feeling. The woman who had held Sara from entering the warehouse earlier hesitated briefly, before she nodded at her. Without lagging Sara climbed into the ambulance as well. Before they were driving off she glanced back briefly, seeing Catherine outside talking with a police-officer. Catherine had taken over charge of the scene. She had a lost a friend as well, and was clearly affected by it, but she seemed able to put it aside for the time being to take care of what needed to be done. Sara felt guilty that she herself was not able to do that. She was not as professional, as strong as Catherine right now. The other woman was not an emotional mess like her. The ambulance drove off and Sara felt bad about leaving Grissom behind. Although there was nothing she could do for him anymore. Grissom was dead and Greg was alive and needed her now. She had been so relieved to hear that Greg was living, only to feel her heart being ripped out when the paramedic had told her in the next sentence his condolence because Grissom was dead and there was nothing they had been able to do for him anymore. Her grief made it almost impossible for her to feel the relief about Greg. Sara moved a little nearer to him as much as it was possible, taking his hand again, waiting for the paramedics to protest, but no objection came. And Sara was not willing to let go again. They had lost Grissom; they could not lose Greg as well. She took his hand in both of hers, glad that it felt warmly. She did not really know about his condition. The paramedics had told her about it after they had brought him out of the building but Sara remembered it only as a blur of relief, grief and crying. She did not see any external wounds on Greg though, unless they were hidden from her sight by the torn clothes that were covering his body. It eased her sorrow as it meant that he had not been shot. She did not know what else had happened to him but what she was able too see of his body looked scratched and bruised and he was still unconscious which was worrying Sara the most. Some minutes later, when they had almost arrived at the hospital, Greg’s eyelids began to flutter and Sara held her breath. The next moment Greg was squeezing her hand lightly and opening his eyes slowly, looking directly at Sara who was sitting next to him. The activity of the paramedics increased again and after a few moments the female one glanced at Sara, smiling reassuringly. “He’s going to be alright,” she told her quickly. Sara held Greg’s hand even more firmly, trying to smile at him. “You’re going to be fine, Greg.” A new wave of tears was coming up for her now, mainly out of relief, although some of them were also shed for Grissom who nobody had been able to help anymore. **************************************************************** Sara was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, squeezing the empty paper cup in her hand absentmindedly. With tiredness and emotional exhaustion setting in, she was wondering more and more if not everything was a terrible nightmare, almost waiting for the moment in that she would wake up in Greg’s arms, something which she had come to love. The pain in her upper-arm was far too real though for a nightmare. After Greg had been wheeled off, her wound had been attended to again, but the pain was not gone. Sara thought that she could maybe bring herself later on to ask for more pain-medication, but right she did not even feel up to do that. She would have to live with the reality that Grissom was gone. She could not imagine it though. She could not imagine that he would not be at the lab twenty-four hours anymore, or that was what he had appeared to be. He would not hold together their team anymore, defend it against exterior trouble. Would not solve brilliant-mindedly another hopeless, seemingly stuck case, would not do any experiments with larvae or bugs anymore. He was the person in this city whom she had known longest and although he had in parts been responsible for lots of her depression and instability some years ago, he had also been a source of stability for their whole team, somebody who was always there and who would always be there, as it had appeared to be. Sara hardly noticed through her sorrow that a doctor had come up to her. He waited for a moment before she reacted and looked up to him. “You’re here for Greg Sanders?” he asked and Sara nodded weakly. “You want to see him, I presume?” “Of course,” Sara replied, her voice sounding hoarsely. The man motioned her to follow him. It was only a short walk to Greg’s room and Sara was glad to see that her boyfriend was already sitting, leaning against his pillow in the hospital bed when they entered the room. Sara approached the bed, smiling faintly. “Hey,” she said, taking his hand in hers again. That was slowly getting a habit. The doctor departed, telling them to call for somebody if they needed anything, and Greg and Sara were alone. “I’m so glad that you’re alright, Sara,” Greg started, then noticing the bandage on her arm though and frowning worriedly. “That’s nothing, Greg. No need to worry,” she assured him, taking him into a hug, something she had been waiting to do during the previous fearful hours. She had a hard time keeping the tears from coming up again. Greg noticed that and stroked her hair gently. “Hey, we’re going to be alright,” he told her. She sniffed, and got out of the hug again, holding still on Greg’s shoulders though. He looked at her, fear in his expression. Sara could not speak, she was not able to tell him, but when Greg asked weakly, “Grissom?” and Sara looked at him tearfully, finally breaking into sobs again, Greg had learned everything he needed to know. He took Sara in his arms again, rubbing her back, trying to calm her down, quite opposed to his own feelings. When Sara had calmed down so much that she was able to observe Greg again, she noticed that he had paled visible, and had tensed up. He looked upset and troubled despite his efforts to soothe her. Finally he let go of her and Sara let her arms sink as well. Greg leaned back against the pillow behind him again, without saying a word. “Greg?” she called anxiously but he did not answer her, his mind apparently somewhere else. Sara wiped away the rest of her tears, knowing that she had to take care of Greg now. He needed her now and she would have to get a grip on herself again. She could not break into tears every few minutes. She had to be strong as she always used to be, or at least almost always, she needed to be strong for Greg, who seemed to take Grissom’s death very hard, considering that he did not even say a word, something that was so untypical for Greg that it frightened Sara. She had always noticed when something was wrong with him when he was not especially talkative like he had just been earlier that night when he had explained it with tiredness. But his prolonged silence scared her while she was watching him, although it was in a way understandable, considering that he had learned of Grissom’s death only some minutes ago. “Greg?” she called again, squeezing his hand once more. “Answer me, please.” Finally Greg turned his look at her again but it took some more moments before he started to speak quietly. “It’s my fault,” he said and Sara was taken aback for a moment, before she quickly shook her head. “No, Greg, it’s not your fault. Of course not,” she tried to assure him. “No, it is my fault,” Greg repeated, before pulling his hand out of Sara’s and finally starting to cry as well. TBC
Chapter 4: Silently Sara watched Greg crying, overwhelmed with the situation, unsure what to do. She thought that Greg was probably in no condition to listen to any reasoning, nevertheless she tried soothing him, realizing quickly that he did not even really listen to what she was saying. It was of course not Greg’s fault that Grissom was dead, and Sara had no idea how Greg had actually gotten the idea that he was to blame, but she did not know how she could convince him that it was not true what he had said, now that he was going to pieces in front of her. She did the only thing she could do now and took him into her arms, relieved that he did not draw back again, as she had been afraid he would do so. Instead of that, he was clinging on her now, as if afraid to lose her as well. Sara whispered to him softly, trying to calm him down. He seemed to be exhausted after a short while and apparently was tired, making Sara wonder how much pain medication he had actually received. She drew back slowly, while Greg sank weakly back into his cushions. “Get some rest,” Sara told him softly. “We’ll talk later,” she added, hoping that Greg would have calmed down later on. Greg nodded half-heartedly and Sara watched him for another moment before she left the room quickly. She marched down the corridor of the hospital without paying attention to anything around her. She almost ran into a woman that had just entered the hallway, and muttered a quick sorry, when the woman suddenly grabbed Sara’s arm, calling her name, effectively stopping her. Sara turned and looked now up for the first time and met Catherine’s insistent, but gentle gaze. “Sara, how are you?” Sara looked around as if searching for somebody, avoiding looking at Catherine. “I’m fine,” she said incidentally, then finally catching Catherine’s gaze. “How’s your arm?” the blonde woman insisted to know. Sara shrugged. “Fine,” she replied shortly, touching her arm, but flinching then. “Need some more pain meds maybe,” she admitted. Catherine nodded. “And how is Greg?” she wanted to know. Sara hesitated. “He’ll get better,” she replied finally. “But…” Catherine looked at her questioningly. “What? Is anything wrong with him?” “He thinks it’s his fault that…,” Sara started, rubbing her eyes, tears once again coming up. She hated it that she was once again losing it, now in front of Catherine. She excused herself quickly and marched off to the restroom at the other side of the hallway. Catherine looked after her worriedly, but decided to leave her alone and made her way to Greg’s room. ************************************************************ It would have probably been the best, if she had gone home. There she could have cried freely, finally letting out the tension that had built up inside of her. But there were other things she had to attend to, before she could even think of going home. There was Greg. She had to go to him again, she had to make sure that he did not blame himself, that he calmed down, that he would be able to relax and recover. Then there was the lab. She needed to head over there as well. She could only guess in what state the lab was right now, the graveyard shift just having lost their head. There were things to be taken care of. And Sara felt that this was what she needed right now. She needed to take care of things at work, she needed to get her thoughts - and feelings - away from the loss. Sara rubbed her eyes again, convinced that they looked red by now. She opened the door of the stall, hoping that nobody else was in the restroom anymore. A look into the mirror above the sinks confirmed her suspicion that she looked bad. Nevertheless, there wasn’t anybody in the lab now who could stop her from going to work, no matter if she looked as if she would collapse any moment. Turning on the cold water, Sara tried to freshen up and clean away the traces of her crying. Satisfied with the result, she frowned at her own reflection and left the restroom. She looked around in the hallway, searching for any known face. She did not see anybody and made her way back into the direction of Greg’s room, when she saw Catherine walking out of it. “How is he?” Sara asked. “He didn’t really talk with me.” Sara could see it in Catherine’s expression how little she liked that fact. She looked at Sara insistently. The brunette only stared back at her, without answering anything. She wanted to see Greg; she could not deal with Catherine right now, at the same time afraid that she would start to cry again. She could not afford that. “Don’t upset him,” the blonde woman finally told her. Sara frowned. “What do you think of me?” Catherine looked as if she wanted to say something else, but turned to go then, giving Sara a short pat on the shoulder, before she walked off. Sara waited a moment, before she pressed down the handle on the door to Greg’s room. Entering, she saw Greg just turning away, closing his eyes. Sara approached him slowly, but he did not turn towards her again. He kept his eyes shut, pretending to sleep, but Sara easily noticed by his fastened breaths that he was awake. She sat down on the chair next to the bed, taking in Greg’s form again. Scratches and bruises still covered him, but there was nothing that would not heal in time. “Greg,” she called him, since she knew he was awake. Greg did not react. Sara called him again softly, but received no answer from Greg. It was clear that he did not want to talk with her. After she had waited for some more minutes, Sara got up and walked to the door. She looked back briefly to see if her leaving caused any reaction from Greg, but this was not the case, so she left the room, closing the door behind her silently. Sara did not know why Greg would not want to talk with her. Nothing of what had happened was his fault. Thinking about this presumption, she had to admit to herself though that she did not know what had happened in the back of the warehouse, there where the shooting had started, there where Grissom had been killed. Nevertheless, it was not Greg’s fault, no matter if he had maybe made a mistake that had cost Grissom his life. Sara did not think that this was what had happened. She hoped that this was not the case, knowing that it would probably haunt Greg forever otherwise. Sara was determined to find out what had happened, determined to convince Greg that he was not to blame, that only the assailants who had shot at them were to blame. There was no reason for Greg to not talk with her. It was not his fault that Grissom had died; she would never blame him, he had to know that. She would never do that, would she? Sara shook her head, walking down the corridor of the hospital towards the exit. TBC