CSI Redux:

March of Sorrow

February 28, 1996

            The morning sky had been gray without a hint of sun, the threat of rain always lingering, causing a few wary glances towards the heavens in anticipation of the downpour that would come. The air had been cold with a constant breeze that had the dark blue canopy occasionally snapping, the sound not seeming to register with the group that had stood in its shelter. With slumped shoulders and teary eyes they had stood for one final vigil over James Ryan Grissom as the priest utter his final prayer.

            The moment that Grissom placed Sara in the passenger’s seat of her car, the gray skies broke loose as if the heavens too wept for Jamie. It seemed fitting that the day was colorless, for Grissom was certain his life had lost some of its vibrancy. And although his logical mind tried to argue that in time the deep sadness that soured his stomach and made breathing difficult would pass, his heart’s counter argument seemed to be winning out.

            Hesitating, the heavy downpour soaking him through his suit, Grissom took one last look back at the grassy knoll that was his son’s eternal resting place. The rain matted his curly hair to his head, his wavy bangs drooping into sad blue eyes that shed tears that hid among the rain. With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, Grissom silently said farewell.

March 6, 1996

            The happy noise of children playing was slowly dwindling away with the remainder of the day’s sun. The dark orange and yellow streaks painting the sky, telling the mothers and fathers it was time to pack up the children and head for home. Although the days were getting longer it was still winter and with each degree the sun set the temperature dropped, causing worried mom’s to secure scarves around necks and dads to call out reminders for mittens.

            Sara watched as one young boy giggled and ran from his father, determined to get every last minute of playtime out of the day as he could. From her perspective, Sara couldn’t tell what color the child’s eyes were but she imagined them to be a beautiful blue and for the hair, mostly hidden under a Giants baseball cap, to be a dark, curly brown. It was the image her mind had created for her, the one that she saw in her dreams, the happy ones, when her baby boy came to visit her.

            Jamie came in her dreams almost nightly. Some nights he was an infant, lying in her arms, suckling at her breast. At other times he was a mischievous toddler trying to determine how to get by a well placed baby gate or a five year old eager to head out to his first day of kindergarten. Smiling, in her dreams Jamie’s smile was a mirror image of his father’s, the one she never saw anymore.

            The pain in her chest swelled, the ache so heavy she was certain her heart would stop. Sara felt she had lost more than her son, a part of her feared she had lost a piece of her husband too.

            And who would blame him, came the acerbic voice in Sara’s head, punishing her once again.

            Everything changed, her life irrevocably altered, the moment she had stepped into that boatyard. Sara had brightly believed that her life had become Teflon coated against misery once she had Gil had gotten married. They were happy and in love. Oh, how in love. Sara was blown away by the breadth and depth of her love for him and could never adequately explain the feeling of utter completeness she felt at being loved by Gil. And they had a baby-

            Had… a baby, Sara’s tortured mind reminded her. So stupid, so stupid. Why didn’t I listen to Gil?

Three days before the accident that had Jamie coming into their lives prematurely, Sara had been laying in bed watching Gil pack his weekend bag, smiling as he fretted about her and the baby. He hated being apart from Sara, had told her dozens of times, but they had a plan in motion. They had started it before she had gotten pregnant and since they had gotten married and were going to have a baby, Sara was eager to see it through.

            The Vegas lab was where Sara wanted to go. She wanted to be where he was, be a part of Gil’s life. In Sara’s mind she had asked so much of him, even though Gil argued that it was Sara who had given so much more, the last thing she wanted to do was have him give up his job and home. Besides, she had no home, not really, not since she was a kid and in her heart home was with him, wherever Gil was was home. It just made sense to Sara that she would finish out her field training in San Francisco, apply for one of the CSI positions that were opening up in Las Vegas and go home to Gil.

            “The field can be dangerous, Sara” Gil had warned her, placing his neatly folded shirts in the black bag on the bed. “I just think, maybe, we should consider postponing your field certification, at least until after the baby is born.”

Sara, who had been lying on her side, rose up on to her knees, pushing his bag to the side so that she could kneel before him. Slipping her arms around his neck, Sara planted a sweet kiss on the side of his grim looking lips, her heart swelling at his concern.

            “Ike’s already said he’d toss me the easy ones,” Sara teased, knowing Ike had said he would weigh each case as to its potential danger. Something that had ruffled Sara a little but that she was more than willing to accept for the safety of her baby and the fact that Ike was willing to let her complete her training. “So, please, don’t worry.”

Grissom’s arms had instinctively found themselves winding around Sara’s growing middle. “I do worry,” he told her, pressing his forehead to hers. “I can’t help but worry, Sara. I’ve been in the field for years and know what can happen out there.”

            Sara had opened her mouth to say something but Grissom had quickly placed his index finger across her lips, effectively silencing her. “Besides, it’s my job to worry about you…wife,” he had told her, a soft smile on his lips and a loving twinkle in his eye.

            I should have listened. God! Why didn’t I listen? Sara’s mind screamed as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, the anguish nearly suffocating her as she tried not to watch the last family exiting the park.

            “Sara?”

            The hand that softly gripped her shoulder felt strong and Sara could almost sense the warmth of it through her coat. The concern in Gil’s voice rang in Sara’s ears, piercing her heart. She knew if she dared to look up into his face she would find beautiful blue eyes tainted my despair, a despair she blamed herself.

            How can he still care? After everything I have done to him, how can he still love me?

            Sara wanted to rage at Grissom to get away from her, to not love her, to walk away and never look back, to save himself but all she seemed capable of doing was to sit numbly staring at the empty playground.

            “Hey, I was worried about you,” Grissom softly said, taking the spot next to her on the bench. “You’ve been gone for two hours.”

            “I must have lost track of time,” Sara answered, surprised she had the will to say anything at all.

            Grissom stared at her profile, the dark circles under her eyes seeming more pronounced in the muted light of the waning day. His concern for her was palpable, a living thing between them, as he took her hand in his, the coolness of it startling him.

            “Honey, you’re freezing,” he told her, standing and pulling her to her feet. “Let’s get you home.”

            Sara didn’t answer. She followed Grissom dutifully, numbly her mind screaming at her to let him go, to save him from her and his love but Sara’s heart cried, let me hold on to him, just a little while longer. The time would come, she was certain, when Grissom would realize what she had done to him…them…Jamie.

Silent tears streamed down Sara’s cheeks as they walked quietly back to the guest house Ike and Katie had rented to them. Grissom didn’t realize Sara was crying until they reached the gate that would grant them access to the courtyard that led to the tiny guesthouse. Sara had had years of practice keeping her tears to herself, a talent she had learned and honed after being left alone in the world at a tender age.

            “Sara?” Grissom ducked his head, catching the glistening tears streaking down Sara’s face. “Aww, honey, come on,” he said, ushering her into the house before taking her into his arms.

            Sara wanted to melt into him then, just let his being swallow her whole but she loved him too much and hated herself more. “I’m tired,” she told him flatly, her palms pushing against his chest softly to extricate herself from his embrace. “I think I’ll lie down for awhile.

            Grissom loosened his grip, a confused frown etching into his features. “Okay,” he said, his confusion making the word come out slowly.

            Turning her back on him, Sara made her way to the bedroom, holding herself together until she could bury her face in one of the pillows of the bed. There she wept, her body silently heaving in agony as she drenched the pillowcase with her misery. Her mind torturing her for her perceived sins until exhaustion drug her to blissful darkness.