Character Death

Chapter 7

Sara was shaking.

It wasn't a shiver or a tremble or even a tremor.

Her teeth were chattering, her knees were knocking, and there was nothing Grissom could do about it. He called her name, over and over again; tried a warm tone and a stern tone and even, inadvertently, a desperate tone. But Sara couldn't hear him.

"She's going to set her alarm off," Warrick said. It wasn't a matter of opinion; just a matter of time.

Grissom nodded. He didn't know what to do. In cases like these, where his mind was frozen with indecision, he'd usually ask Brass or Catherine for advice. Or sometimes he'd unwind with Nick or Greg, hoping to clear his brain. But they were all gone now, their bodies watching blankly as the four survivors awaited their own turns.

"You two ready?" Sofia asked.

It was time. It was past time, really, and the thought of maneuvering his chair over Catherine's body made Grissom's chest tight. These were their friends, their family. And there was no saving them, no undo button to bring them back.

"I need to stay with Sara," he said, before he even knew he'd thought it. Once his lips formed the words, though, he knew they had come from his heart.

Warrick blinked in surprise. "You sure?"

"This guy's studied our backgrounds. If he has one bullet left and he wants to do the most damage to all of us, he'll aim for Sara. And if she's the only stationary target, it just makes his job easier. I'm sorry, guys."

Warrick and Sofia glanced at each other appraisingly. They were both in good shape, but two bound people against a free man with a gun wouldn't exactly be a fair fight.

"We'll go down swinging," Warrick said quietly.

"Hopping," Sofia said, quirking her lip.

Grissom looked back at Sara, wishing he could put his arms around her, absorb a little of her pain.

Her feet started twitching.

The three of them looked at each other, took a breath in unison.

And then the alarm went off.

Sofia and Warrick jumped up, their own sirens blaring. They took off toward the door, and Grissom watched them, feeling like he was underwater, like the world was moving too fast and yet in slow motion. He watched Warrick vault over Catherine's body, and then the door opened.

Crete must have reloaded the gun, because there was much more than one shot.

The bullets were flying, and Grissom threw himself to the side, knocking Sara to the floor. He covered her with his body and his chair, trying to shield her as she writhed a little more slowly beneath him. Her head cracked against the floor, and she stilled, blinking at him groggily.

"Grissom?"

"It's okay," he murmured, hoping she could hear him above the sound of the alarms, the sound of the gun, the sound of Sofia's screams.

"My shoulder hurts," she said. "My-" She glanced down. "Oh, that's why."

He looked down too, his throat growing tight when he caught sight of the bullet hole.

He hadn't saved her after all.

"Crap, it's bleeding," she said, her voice sounding detached.

"Let's put some pressure on it," he said, leaning on her shoulder as best as he could. "Warrick and Sofia are taking care of Crete; we'll get you to an ambulance soon."

She was breathing hard, and he knew she was listening to the bullets as they sprayed into the room. Crete had another gun, clearly, because he was still shooting, and Sofia was still screaming, and Sara was still bleeding-

"Tell me a story," she said softly into his ear.

"What?"

"Tell me a story, Grissom. Take me away from this place."

He pulled back a little to look at her. "What kind of story?"

"Anything."

Grissom took a deep breath, leaning forward to whisper into her ear. "There once was a wealthy landowner, who hired farmers to grow crops on his land. One day in late summer, he called one of the farmers in to see him. 'I am greatly displeased,' he told the farmer. 'All of the other farms have seen great profit this season, while yours is a third smaller.' The farmer replied, 'I am sorry... You see, this year I have found a lover, and I can no longer devote all my time to the farm.'"

Warrick was shouting, and Crete was laughing, and there were voices coming closer in the hallway. But Grissom and Sara didn't notice.

"The landowner was taken aback," Grissom continued. "He looked at the farmer and said, 'What is this? You place a woman above your work?' The farmer replied, 'I place her above everything.'

"'Well then,' the landowner said, growing angry. 'I will yoke you to a plow, and make you plow the fields yourself.' The farmer smiled, and said, 'Oh, could you? When I am sore and bone-tired, my lover rubs my shoulders. It is lovely.'"

Sara pulled back, giving him a faint smile. Then she froze, her eyes widening. "Grissom?"

"'Lovely?' the landowner roared. 'Then perhaps I'll beat you instead.' The farmer was delighted. 'Oh, that's wonderful,' he said. 'When I am injured, she prepares a soothing salve and kisses away my pain.'

"Gil?" Sara was breathing harder. "How could I get shot, when you're on top of me?"

"The landowner grew even more furious," Grissom continued. "'Then perhaps I'll kill you,' he said. 'What do you think of that?' The farmer closed his eyes and smiled dreamily. 'That would be the best of all. Then I could stop farming altogether, and devote all my time to loving her.'"

Sara pushed against him hard and he leaned back a little. Just enough for her to see the exit wound gaping in his chest.

"No." She tried flipping them, so that she could put pressure on his wound, but he was too heavy. "Grissom, we've got to stop the bleeding." Jesus, there was blood everywhere. It was pouring out of him.

"I love your hair," he whispered. "I love when it's kind of curly, and I love the way it smells. Wish you had it down today. So pretty."

"Grissom, flip over." She swallowed a sob, pushing on him harder.

"I love when you wear your green tank top," Grissom breathed, his lips tickling her ear. "And I love the smile you make when you walk into a room and you see me there."

"Flip over," she cried.

"I love it when you're under me like this. Don't make me move. Please."

Warrick was shouting for paramedics, and Sofia was screaming.

"They're coming," Sara whispered, pressing her forehead against his. "You'll be fine, they're coming."

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, his breathing growing ragged. "I kind of like the idea of spending all my time loving you, Sara."

She nudged his head into the crook of her neck, cradling him gently, whispering soft words into his ear even after he'd stopped breathing.