Spoilers: YGM and very slight PNN
Archive: www.grissomandsara.com. Anyone else, ask permission and I'll probably say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I do own the plotline you're about to read, but since we all know it'd never make it to the show... then I must not own the show. Damn!
Summary: G/S (some W/C & N/OC) - Grissom wakes up the morning after the team's crazy night of charades...
Chapter 101 - I've created my own prison
A/N: Apologies for the lag in posting these chapters. Ff.net decided to go completely spastic on me and not allow me to upload anything for a week. So now there are... hmm... nine new chapters at once for you all to enjoy!
Further A/N: I've recently received reviews accusing me of plagiarizing whole parts of this story from other G/S fanfic. I find this accusation not only extremely disturbing and malicious, but completely wrong. The story in question is one I have never read or seen, and I don't welcome having my reputation smeared by someone in a bad mood who decides they don't like my story. If you don't plan on reviewing honestly, please don't review.
Grissom ripped a hand through his hair, then used the same hand to wipe the sweat off his face while he paced. Reaching the end of the room, he turned and began back toward the kitchen, where Catherine, Warrick, and Nick were gathered, all looking disheveled. As he watched, Nick yawned and slammed his hand over his mouth, trying to hide it.
Catherine put down the phone and shook her head. "You don't have any idea where she is, Gil? Does she have friends around here? Did you try Greg or Bobby? Robbie? Anyone else from the lab?"
"I don't know, Cath! I called everyone I could think of. I even called the day shift people, for heaven's sake!" He stopped. "Do you think I should call her parents? Do you think Brass could track her cell?"
Warrick put a hand on Grissom's shoulder and said gently, "Hey, man, calm down. You're no help if you're freaking out. Concentrate!"
"He's right, Gris," Nick threw in. "We don't know as much about her as you do, so if anyone's going to come up with where she could be, it's gonna be you and not one of us."
"I don't know!" Grissom hollered. "I don't know, I can't think while Sara could be wandering around the city getting robbed or killed."
"Gil, take a breath," Catherine ordered. "You are not helping. You're making things worse. And Sara's smart enough to not go to the dangerous areas. If she's walking, it's probably on the strip where there's lots of people."
"Yeah. Yeah! One of you," Grissom said with new energy, pointing at Nick and Warrick, "go down there and drive around. See if you can find her. If you do, tell her... tell her she doesn't have to come home, I just want her to go with someone I know she'll be safe with."
"I'll do it," Nick said as he palmed his keys. "Keep your phones on, guys. If I find her, I'll call. Hell, if I don't find her, I'll call." He gave Grissom what he hoped was a reassuring smile and left.
Grissom resumed pacing. "Greg," he muttered. "Ecklie? No. Parents... California... brother? No." He wiped the sweat off his face again. "This isn't happening."
As he passed her, Catherine put out a hand and grabbed his shirt. "Stop pacing, Gris. You're making me nervous. Why don't you sit down and tell us what the hell 'this' is?" Hoping the material wouldn't rip, she used all her strength to drag him back to the kitchen table. "Sit, please. And calm down. Do you want a drink?"
"No!" Grissom jumped out of the chair she'd just pressed him into. "I can't just sit, Catherine. And if I have a drink then I can't go get her if I find her."
Catherine and Warrick exchanged worried looks. "What happened?" Warrick mouthed over Grissom's head, furrowing his brow in confusion. Catherine shook her head, indicating that she didn't know either.
"We had a fight."
Both of them looked down at Grissom, who had sunk back into the chair, amazed that he'd constructed a coherent sentence. "We know you had a fight," Catherine offered. "We heard it."
"No... another one. We had another fight when we got home."
"About what?" Catherine prayed that she wouldn't have to prompt him through the whole story; she didn't know if her nerves could take it, let alone his.
"About the same thing." He dropped his head into his hands, digging his fingers into his forehead. "About the baby and the... getting married. I told her she must hate me to do that. To turn me down like that, I mean."
While Grissom was staring at the table, Catherine jerked her head toward the refrigerator, hoping Warrick would get the hint. He did, and returned to the table a few seconds later with a can of beer. He popped it open and set it in front of Grissom. "Drink," he ordered, as though to a child. Automatically, Grissom did as ordered.
"Ok," Catherine continued, "so you had the same fight again. What happened between then and now that made Sara run out of the house?"
"I don't want to talk about it," he said firmly. "It's not something I want you to know. It's not something I want myself to know."
When Catherine flung her head back in exasperation, Warrick smoothly took over. "Listen, Gris. Maybe you don't want to tell us, but if we don't know what happened, we can't extrapolate where she might have gone. I mean, it's not like you hit her, so just tell us and we'll see what we can do with it."
"No," Grissom acknowledged. "I didn't... hit her. But I might as well have."
"What?!" the two others said in unison.
Grissom jumped out of his chair again. "I'm calling Brass. He can put out an APB. He can try to trace her." He practically ran for the phone. Snatching it up, he dialed Brass's number, still reading off of the roster. "Jim. This is Gil. I need your help."
Brass's voice could be heard on the other end, firing questions. From what Catherine could hear, he sounded worried. Well, she would be too if Grissom called her and spoke that in the tone of voice he was using. She took a deep breath and decided she needed a break. She gave Grissom a pat on the arm and a smile and left the kitchen area, heading for Grissom's guest room, where Lindsey was asleep.
"Yes!" Grissom was saying into the phone. "She's gone, Jim, and I can't find her, and you need to help me." A pause. "Sara! Who the hell else would I be this worried about? She ran away, I don't know where she is, I've called everyone I can think of. I need you to try to triangulate her cell phone, or get patrols to look for her car, or both. Do something, for god's sake!" After another pause, presumably Brass's assent, he slammed down the phone.
It rang again immediately and Grissom grabbed it. "Nick?" When the person on the other end spoke, he nearly dropped the phone. "Sara? Sara, where are you? Are you ok?"
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