TITLE: I Don't Want to Lose You When the Morning Comes

AUTHOR: Gomey (grissomsgnomeyahoo.com)

ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just let me know so I can brag. grin

SPOILER: Grissom vs the Volcano (4-09)


DISCLAIMER: All known characters and premises belong to their respective owners. So there.

NOTES: June challenge - title courtesy of Carol. Hope I did it justice, giggle




Gil Grissom walked behind his strawberry-blond partner, allowing her scent to travel on the whipping wind to his awaiting senses. He held his evidence kit securely in his left hand, as his eyes tore away from her dancing hair to the scene around them. Vague details had been released relating to a car-bomb, which had killed a significant person, dear to their government. Thoughts of terrorism had unfortunately crossed minds, but he was a never a man to assume; allowing the evidence to guide him to the guilty - not fears, race nor situations would ever hold importance.

She heard him speak and glanced over her shoulder, watching him as he watched others. Catherine Willows spotted the Sheriff: Mobley's replacement, and headed towards him. They both stopped a few feet away from the lanky man and listened to his words carefully.

Moments after a loud explosion graced their ears, a series of gunshots were released, sounding off in what seemed to be every direction possible. The rapid fire incited the supervisor to protect his dear, shielding her body with his, against a random car nearby.

Though fear of the unknown clouded her judgement, Catherine couldn't deny the shivers that coursed through her body upon feeling his pressed flush against. Her tiny frame was dwarfed by his, and amidst the chaos, a certain safety surrounded her being.

A stray bullet cut through the air, bold enough to decide its own path. If eyes had graced the cylindrical object, one could assume an evil streak judging by its chosen direction. But fate had a cruel way of toying with humans, and metallic judgement found its next victim.

The gun-fire had ceased, and Catherine rested her hands on the cold metal frame of the car. His weight was still in abundance, and only then did she realize his unwillingness to withdraw. Though his warmth transferred, his immobility struck fear's chord deep within the music of her heart. She resisted against his weight, but with no avail. "Gil?" Her voice unsure, she managed to turn around, only to be faced with blue eyes, dimming with time. "Gil...." Trembling, she caught his body, allowing the wind to be knocked out without a second thought.

He opened his mouth to speak, but words were alien to him. Breaths came out in short spurts, his inhalations decreasing as the seconds ticked by. He looked at her, mourning the words never spoken, the actions never taken...he wanted to cry for his heart, never loved and never having been loved.

She eased him to the ground, her hand finding the blood on his back: the fountain that was diluting his soul. "Stay with me, Gil." She struggled to keep her voice stable, conveying hope and strength though praying he would accept her gifts. She pressed down, inciting a gasp - faint but not unheard to her ear. "Stay...just until morning." She coaxed a promise out of him, knowing that he fought the battle until dawn, victory's march would be heard at morn's rooster. Her eyes left his briefly, meeting with the Sheriff's own worried glace. He tapped his index finger against the phone he held to his ear, and then gave her a nod. Perhaps a negotiation with fate could save her heart. She met his eyes again, applying more pressure to the wound. As his eyelids timidly began to make an appearance, panic began to settle and she tried to rouse him from the slumber that was slowly encompassing his body. "Stay..." It seemed in vain, stressed with a choked sob and tears unwilling to remain locked behind blue eyes.

His tears too, broke free of their windowed prison and he slowly began to lose feeling in his body. The last memories he had was her voice, her pressure and her tears on his face.



«What was that?»


«It's rather comforting...»


«...almost stable, constant.»


«Constant. The one constant thing in my life was her. But now, all I have is that noise.»


«Why do I hurt still? Isn't it all over? I was promised that it was all over.»


«Sacrifice. But it was worth it.»


«I'm glad I was able to protect her, one last time. Can't imagine Lindsey having to grow up with...I can't do it. I can't even say it.»


«At least with me, it's not that big of a deal. Nobody mourns a ghost. No one's there, waiting for me.»


"I'm here."

«That voice...that pressure...those tears. I can feel my own tears too, cascading down the side of my cheek.»


"Wake up."

«I could never refuse her.»


His eyes slowly opened, revealing a sparkling blue hue, contrasting the chalky white of his skin. Dry lips couldn't deny the pure smile that he shared with her, content with the angelic creature sitting beside him. "Constant." He muttered, feeling out of breath. His heart swelled at the tears in her eyes, and he knew not to negate chance's second gift.

"You stayed with me." Her voice was dripping with relief, prayer and love.

He turned his head slightly, his hand weakly reaching for hers. "-You- stayed..." It was thankful, though the gratitude didn't hide the questioning.

She smiled as she bent down, her lips lightly dusting his. She too could not neglect the second chance fate had reluctantly offered. " I didn't want to lose you when morning came."