Impact

Chapter 11

"I caught sight of you that day, and. I don't know. It was like I just knew."

Everything is fuzzy - my brain, my tongue, the coarseness of the sheets under my palm. Grissom keeps talking, and I wonder if I fell asleep before him, after a long shift. Doesn't feel like our sheets, though.

"Like. when you watch Law and Order, and there's four suspects, and one of them is played by Jack Nicholson. And you know that he's the one they're going to focus on eventually, because why else would Jack Nicholson be on Law and Order? So you're just watching and waiting for them to realize Jack did it. That's how it was with you."

I want to tell him he's not making one bit of sense, but my mouth is too dry.

"I saw you, and I knew you were going to be something. Someone. In my life. Maybe the someone. And then you were interested in me too, and I couldn't believe my luck."

There's a dull pain in my back, like that time I accidentally fell asleep on my sociology binder in college. I try shifting, but that hurts too much. Something's not right.

Oblivious, Grissom keeps talking. "It just seemed too fated to be true, and I didn't believe in fate. What were the chances that my perfect match would be so young and beautiful?"

Young and beautiful and pained as hell. My foot's throbbing too, and for one wildly illogical moment I wonder if Grissom beat me earlier, if I've turned into my mother after all.

"I can't even tell you what our time together has meant to me. What you mean to me. What it's like to have someone to share my life, my dreams, my successes and failures. it's been." He breaks off, making a noise of frustration. "That's why I can't do this, honey."

The pain in my back and foot are forgotten as a cold vise grips my stomach. He's breaking up with me when I can't even respond? Straining with the effort, I force my eyelids open. He's sitting beside the bed, holding onto my hand and staring it.

"I need you to wake up, because I can't possibly do this, Sara. I'm the old one. I'm the one who'll go first. And that's the way it needs to be, because we both know I couldn't keep going without you. We were supposed to get married, have a future."

Licking my lips slowly, I try to speak, but all that comes out is a low moan.

He looks up, startled, and his eyes fill with tears when he sees I'm awake. "Sara?" Reaching out, he strokes the side of my cheek, blinking as if I may disappear altogether. "Honey?"

It takes a couple of smacks of my lips before he realizes I need water. He pours a cup quickly, then holds it up to my mouth with a trembling hand while I sip.

"Thanks," I manage to say, and he gives me a watery smile.

"I was so worried," he whispers.

"Me too," I whisper back. "Law and Order metaphors, what's the world coming to?"

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, kissing me gently. "Law and Order is a really good show."

o-o-o-o-o

A nurse wheels Warrick in for a visit the next day. He's sure to tell me that he doesn't need the wheelchair, it's just hospital policy. He's also sure to tell me the accident wasn't my fault.

"We were driving along, and then suddenly the road was gone," he says. "We were falling through the air for a second or two, and before I knew it, we'd crashed."

"I don't remember any of it," I frown. "How long before we were found?"

"Long time. Long enough for you to get all fatalistic."

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you. Kept trying to give me some message to give to Grissom."

Grissom is sitting on the other side of the bed, listening to us with a tired smile as he pretends to read his newspaper. "Yeah, what was that message, anyway?"

"Probably wanted to remind him to leave the toilet seat down," I say seriously. "He's really bad at that, Warrick."

We talk for a while, commiserating about hospital food (and, in my case, whining about how the nurses keep trying to make me eat Jell-O) and the monotony of daytime television.

"Tina's trying to get me into GH," he laughs, and I'm reminded of something. Can't think of what, though, and the arrival of Greg and Catherine at the door makes me forget anyway.

The afternoon goes by quickly, as visitors come in and out. At one point, a man walks past the door and stops, looking at Grissom's newspaper on the bed. Knocking on the door lightly, the man enters.

"Excuse me," he says apologetically. "I wondered if I could borrow part of your newspaper, when you're done reading it. The gift shop is all out of today's issue."

"Of course," Grissom replies. "Which section would you like?"

"The editorials. My wife Pam just loves them."

There's that feeling again. Like déjà vu, only stronger.

"My favorite section is the police blotter," Brass says, winking at me. "It's like a Greatest Hits album for my life."

The man takes the editorials section and disappears down the hall. I can't help feeling like I missed something.

o-o-o-o-o

Everyone has come and gone, and still Grissom sits beside me. He's starting to smell a little ripe, but I don't dare tell him. His presence is a comfort in this place.

"I've already had ramps installed in the townhouse for your recovery period," he's saying, "and a contractor says he can have a chair lift on the stairs by the time you come home. But we'll want to set up the living room with a bed until you can walk pretty well, I think. I've scheduled PT appointments for the next month-"

"Breathe, Griss," I tell him, rubbing his arm soothingly. "It'll all work out."

He sighs heavily. "There's just so much to do."

"And we'll do it. I'll get better, we'll get married-"

"Yeah, about that," he hedges. "Does it need to be in that order?"

"What?"

"I mean. when we get married, do you need to walk down the aisle, necessarily?"

"Oh," I smile. "No, of course not. We can go to a justice of the peace, for all I care. I just want to marry you."

"I was hoping you'd say that," he grins back.

I only catch on when the hospital chaplain walks in the door.

THE END