FF :: Cupid's Chokehold (27 - Have You Ever Seen the Rain?)
Title: Cupid's Chokehold
Author: GraveyardIntern
Rating: CSI-1
Spoilers: None
Disclaimers: I don't own them. I only wish I did.
Summary: "Gil felt like a needle was poking at his chest or why he
felt like he had plunged into hell when he saw Catherine at the
restaurant. It was because Cupid had fired his smoking gun blindly, in
the wrong direction."
Writer's Note: HAVE FUN AND REVIEW PLEASEE!!!!!
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Precipitation was rare enough. Precipitation out of a clear blue sky was a legend.
Grissom had been able to ask for his decent clothes back despite the flood of advice against leaving the hospital. He had had enough. If he was ever going to leave, now would have been the time. With Catherine.
After checking out, they stood in the courtyard beside the hospital without an umbrella. Gil had always liked looking at the cloudless Nevada sky, and Gil had always liked looking at the rain. Together, he could ask for no more. As he stood, feeling his jacket become laden with the essence of life, he thought about the future, about himself, and about the woman holding his right hand.
“Gil?” He shook his head, trying to shake off the water droplets that had been accumulating on his face. He looked at her, seeing a little water dribble off of his hair. “I’m here. I’m still here.” He simply smiled at her attempt at comfort. He shook his head again.
“No you’re not. You may be here physically, but…” He took her hand and placed it on her heart. “You aren’t here.” She was left speechless. He could only smile again, bitterly. He turned his attention back to the rain, feeling her grip on his hand slip. At this moment, he couldn’t care less if she left him that way, if she turned away and walked back to find herself again. She was dry. She was still sane. But he was brought back down to earth from his ascent by her hand on his heart.
“So are you telling me, I’m not in here?” She asked, her eyes boring into his own. He sputtered. This was it. She was asking him if she owned his soul, if he was really indeed at her mercy, and if he could ever live without her. She was asking him if he loved her. He didn’t want to tell her; she had no reason to be curious. He stayed silent, just looking at her, seeing the water penetrate her hair. He could feel her fingertips on his skin, on his soaked jacket. Time froze and for that fleeting moment in time, they were one underneath the cold, brutal sun.
“Catherine…” She took her hand off his chest and nodded, dejectedly. He knew what she was thinking. What she assumed to be where her hand had been moments ago. But he couldn’t tell her that she was judging him, that she was jumping to conclusions. He couldn’t ever tell her that she would be there, forever. He wouldn’t have been able to hold her back, but he tried and surprisingly succeeded. She looked back at him, squinting to see through the deluge. Without a word of protest from either one of them, he drew her closer to him. No words came out of his mouth.
And with that, he kissed her.
Had God ever seen the rain?
It was everywhere, it was everything, every time.
The heavens unleashed.
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He wandered aimlessly, pointlessly, and he wandered for a long time. He felt free.
No one would recognize him. Who would have thought that Gil Grissom would walk without an umbrella in the rain? Who would have thought that he would be out in the desert, without a thing in sight?
Who would have thought that he would fall in love?
Not even himself.
His socks, his shoes, and his pants were ruined, and covered in mud. His jacket was dripping, and his hair was drenched. But his mind was dry. This was the only time his mind was not filled with heavy burdens, the only time his mind was free from obligations, free from responsibilities. Now, he simply longed for a thought to come to his head so that it could fill the emptiness that he felt with all his being. He wanted to drink the rain and fill his body with water, wanted to fill the depths of his soul with life so that perhaps he would become more lively. So that perhaps he may discover purpose. After all, the most important epiphany came out of the blue, and came rapidly.
He knew she had given in. When his lips closed in on hers, she had tensed. But as quickly as she had frozen, she seemed to melt under the rain. When his lips parted to allow his lungs to take in the damp air, her lips parted at the same time and the kiss had deepened as their lips moved together. He had pulled her closer towards him, his wet clothing flush against her body. Her arms had snaked around his neck and her hands were running with the water through his hair. It had been a mad flurry of his hands trying to touch her everywhere and anywhere he could before the moment when the consequences of his actions would hit her eventually. He didn’t know how long they had stayed that way, but for him, it could have lasted a lifetime and it could have lasted as long as the blink of an eye. But she eventually broke off hurriedly. He had only held her gaze as she walked away, and when she turned around, she ran off. He knew better than to chase after her.
A smile never left his face.
He wanted to cleanse himself. He desperately wanted each raindrop to carry any memories of his past, and any longings he may have had and drip away from him. He felt like he couldn’t carry all that junk around anymore. He wanted to start anew. He wanted to be able to walk down that aisle in three days and kiss her gloved hand, and say with a smile, Goodbye. And he had such confidence in the rain, that he believed he would walk away from this day a new man, and a wise man. He realized that all the knowledge he had gathered from books and experience had never made him wise. He was intelligent, yes. He was brilliant, yes. But he wasn’t wise. Now he thought he could get down on his knees and pray to whatever was out there, to give him wisdom. To grant him the power to accept the things he could not change, courage to change the things that he can, and wisdom to know the difference. He felt the familiar words roll off his tongue, and he grinned like a madman. He didn’t hear the faint ringing of his phone in his car. He didn’t see the name which he called out now on the green screen.
After walking away from his car and into the horizon for what seemed like a year, he dropped to his knees. He felt the rocks and pebbles dig into his skin, and he felt his muscles trying to fend them off. He could see the mud make its way through the fabric of his pants. He smiled at the picture of him kneeling in the middle of the desert taking on a mahogany color, his jacket becoming as black as the abyss. His hair cut short, his glasses trashed somewhere on the ground, his shoes soggy with water. He looked up at the sky once more. Letting go of his last pride, he put his hands together. He hadn’t been religious, and he wasn’t going to change that now. He wasn’t going to turn to the God he had turned away from so long ago. But he was left with no choice. The last thing he hoped to be able to do was perhaps throw a hope out there, and he knew it was out of his hands forever. He felt that he had no control over anything, and this was his last stand.
“Please. Give me the strength and the courage let her go.”
His body did not shake, he didn’t feel the physical release he hoped to feel, and he knew he was still holding on. He started to chuckle. He broke into a full-fledged laughter, as tears mixed with rain. He heard a deep, rumbling thunder a far ways off, and never saw lightning. He now saw her in front of him, in white. She extended her hand to him, and he reached out to take it but didn’t grasp her hand. He drew it back as if it had burned him, and simply stared at her. She looked beautiful, and the only sound that came from him was his breath. When he didn’t take her hand, she suddenly disappeared, as if Gil had never seen anything in the first place. He frantically shook his head, and put his hands on the ground.
The desert sand didn’t move, but it made a spirited attempt.