Summary: Sequel to Breaking. What happens after Grissom and Sara's confessions.
Disclaimer: So, I talked it over with my psychiatrist and it turns out that I don't own CSI. Apparently it was all in my mind.
Time seemed to stand still. Sara could hear a voice talking to her but the sound was distant, reminding her of static from a radio. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the words being spoken they were incomprehendable. Yet at the same time, they were soothing.
Her body shook with a force she hadn't felt in years. Her muscles ached and her bones felt like stone. Her face was tear stained but she stopped crying long ago. Muffled sobs continued to leave her mouth as her hands clung to the soft, cotton shirt. She could feel hands moving along her back and through her hair. They should have been soothing gestures but they made her sob harder. She wasn't sure why that was.
The muffled murmurs continued and she clung to the shirt tighter, trying to bury herself in it. God, she wanted to curl up and never think again. She wanted the thoughts that roamed freely in her head to shrivel up and die. She wanted to simply allow herself to feel the tenderness of the hands and the gentleness of the voice.
She longed to be able to look up into his enigmatic blue eyes and become lost in them again. But she couldn't force herself to move. Sara knew she wouldn't be able to handle his questioning gaze. She was unsure if she would be able to answer his questions.
Slowly, time seemed to begin again. Her senses began to operate normally. Her breathing was beginning to come out in more steady, even breaths. The shirt under her head was soaked. She loosened her grip.
Grissom had stopped talking and instead made soothing noises as his hands continued their movements. Sara gently pushed herself away from him and took a moment to process her surroundings.
They were no longer in the kitchen. Somehow, he had managed to move them to her couch. She rubbed her eyes and looked at him. He looked at her with an intensity she rarely saw. "Sara…" Grissom began.
Sara opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the phone. They looked at the interfering instrument. "It's probably a telemarketer," Sara said shrugging and then winced at how horse her voice was.
The two sat silently and listened to her message play. Sara paled as she heard a voice start to leave a message. It was not a telemarketer. 'Not now,' she thought her eyes fixed on the answering machine.
"God, Sara. I can't believe it. How can they even think of letting her out? Time for good behavior? What they hell is that? How can they think anything that woman does is good behavior? After what she did…after what she put you through? Jesus, Sar…where are you? I've left you messages on your voice mail all week. Did they send you the letter? God, I didn't even think you might not have gotten the letter yet…Sara…Jesus. Call me. The numbers the same. She can't get paroled, Sara. She just can't."
Sara's stomach flip-flopped as the message came to an end. She felt Grissom's eyes on her but refused to look up. "Sara?" he asked and touched her arm.
She pushed his hand away and simultaneously grabbed her mouth. She moved towards the bathroom and deposited her Chinese food into the toilet. His hand was on her back again, running smooth circles over it. This wasn't how it was suppose to happen.
She pushed herself up from the toilet and flushed it. Standing at the sink, she saw him watching her in the mirror. She closed her eyes and splashed water on her face before rinsing her mouth out. She looked back at him through the mirror. His eyes were filled with uncertainty. For a second she was filled with the irrational fear that he would bolt. She could almost hear him mumble an excuse and quickly exit her apartment, leaving her alone and broken.
But he didn't. He stood behind her, his eyes never leaving hers. Sara turned and faced him. "I…"
It was all she could say. She had no idea how to put the thoughts in her head into words. She looked at her hands before dropping them helplessly to her sides. The two stood there for an eternity, neither sure of what to do. Sara looked up and walked out of the bathroom and back to the living room. She willed him to follow her, relieved when he did.
She picked up the lone envelope on her coffee table and handed it to him. If she couldn't use words to explain it to him, she could at least give him all of the evidence and allow him to draw the conclusions.
Grissom took the envelope and she watched him study it. He traced her name and address before his eyes locked on the return address. He looked at her. "The California State Penitentiary Board?" he asked. "Sara, are you sure you want me to see this?"
She nodded and watched him settle uncomfortably onto her couch. She turned away as he began to read the letter. She knew it by heart. Laura Sidle was up for parole. Her eyes darkened at the thought of the woman. She left the room and made her way to the dresser in her room.
The letter he was reading would only create more questions. She pulled out the manila folder that lay in the otherwise empty drawer. A rubber band held the overflowing file together. It held all her demons, all the details of her sordid past.
Looking out at the man on the couch, she supposed now was the time to finally tell him the truth.