Ghost of a Past - PG-13 [Greg/Sara]
Ghost of a Past
tinyangl, 1030 words
Greg Sanders/Sara Sidle. It took all he had not to cry which he wanted, but Greg Sanders would not be called weak.
A/N: This was just... Sad. I don't know where it came from but sheer angst. *tear* Character death! Also, have no idea if I got Sara's characterization right. I've never really written her. XP (Originally posted here.)
It took all he had not to cry which he wanted, but Greg Sanders would not be called weak. Sure, no one was around to hear it but he would. He would know and, of course, the female next to him. Whose short brown hair tickled the side of his face. And whose scent of a faint vanilla which she swore came from her shampoo, but he knew. He knew that was just all her. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her in fear that he would lose her.
Half asleep, all Sara Sidle could manage to say was a half mumble of "Are you okay?"
Trying his best not to let his feelings be shown in his words, he said as strongly as he could, "Of course." Without a crack revealed, he felt very proud of himself.
She murmured an agreement and fell right back to sleep, leaving Greg alone with his thoughts, sleep being the farthest from his mind.
"So... food after shift?"
"Sure, why not?"
"... Really?!"
"Gee, Greg. You don't need to sound so excited… You might just be giving away hints of your feelings."
"I've never hidden my feelings for you, Sara."
"Um... I'll see you after shift then."
He trailed his hands along the side of her body, her back to him, and relished in the feel of her bare skin along his. She was soft, like a newborn baby’s and he took every chance he could to touch her, no matter how short the moment would be. It was during times like this that he took the most attention towards her, a notion Sara had come to notice and could stand to ignore, especially when she was in dire need of some sleep.
As he touched each and every patch of skin, each stroke leaving him more and more depressed as he thought of what was to happen next.
"So you show Sofia your place, but not me? I'm hurt."
"It wasn't really a showing, so to speak. And anyway, you've denied each and every one of my offers."
“Well, I didn’t know you were showing it to other people.”
"So, I'm not allowed to show it to others. And not you either. Any other rules I don't know of?"
*laughs*
"..." *laughs a little too* "Wuh-why are you laughing?!"
"You are too!" *laughs more*
"Only because you are!"
*giggles* "You sound like a little child, Greg."
*serious* "I’m the farthest from a little child." *pause* "I’m sorry..."
*serious* "No need to be sorry… Let's try it again, shall we?"
He touched the crook of her back gently and slowly made a path from there to the bottom of her neck. Soon, his hands weren't enough to remember her and he left kisses along the her shoulders as a way of leaving his own mark, no matter how short that time would be. His hands, during this time, were now in her hair. She was still dead asleep as he brushed her soft hair with his fingers, amazed at how silky it felt even if she denied taking care of it as much as she did.
It was always a contrast with his own hair, which only turned smooth when he was running it through water. Something Sara had discovered in the shower one day to her immense delight. She always loved his hair wet and frequently told him that he shouldn’t put any gel in it or all those chemicals in it.
"I could love you, you know?"
"Only could? Well, that's a tad insulting. I COULD love you, but you know what, I don't really think I'm up to that point yet. Just like. Actually… Maybe lower than that. I don't really know."
*smack* "Don't say it like that! You know. I've never really been able to love anybody. I've grown up not and I just... Just don't know how it's supposed to feel."
"Well, I think that love is not something you can say anyway. It's in your actions. It's in the feeling of longing and desire for the other. The comfortability you feel in each other's presence. The fire you feel for one another. And there's much more. Much much more."
"Do-do you feel that for me?"
"Yes. Yes, I do, Sara."
"How can you say it so simply?"
"Because it’s just that easy."
His eyes shut as he stopped his worshipping of her. All he wanted to do now was just sleep there and hug her all he could. Suddenly, the feeling of another in the bed disappeared all together and Greg was struck by how lonely the bed felt. There wasn't another body sinking into the mattress along with his and nobody lay beside him. He sat up abruptly and felt around the blankets, as though expecting her to be there. His eyes watered as he grabbed the pillow beside him and held it up to his nose. He took in a deep breath and nearly broke when he smelt vanilla.
"Greg... There's been an accident. Sara... She was shot at the scene by the suspect. It appears he came back."
"Is... is she going to be all right?"
"The doctor's say it's unlikely. She was shot-"
"She's going to die?"
"..."
"Grissom! Tell me if she's going to die! Tell me the truth!"
"... I’m sorry, Greg. She was pregnant too. Only a month along."
Greg threw the blankets off of him and stumbled into the bathroom. He switched on the light and turned on the sink’s water. Rinsing his face in the cold water, he shuddered at the feel. He forced himself to look into the mirror and only saw a pale version of himself, his eyes red with tears that had been shed but hidden, his hair messy without the upkeep it was used to.
Collapsing in the bathroom, he felt the tears come back to his eyes and this time, he didn't hold them back. In the quiet, safe of this room, he thought he could afford a good cry. If he was to be called weak, so be it. Greg Sanders had, after all, lost the love of his life.
tinyangl, 1030 words
Greg Sanders/Sara Sidle. It took all he had not to cry which he wanted, but Greg Sanders would not be called weak.
A/N: This was just... Sad. I don't know where it came from but sheer angst. *tear* Character death! Also, have no idea if I got Sara's characterization right. I've never really written her. XP (Originally posted here.)
It took all he had not to cry which he wanted, but Greg Sanders would not be called weak. Sure, no one was around to hear it but he would. He would know and, of course, the female next to him. Whose short brown hair tickled the side of his face. And whose scent of a faint vanilla which she swore came from her shampoo, but he knew. He knew that was just all her. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around her in fear that he would lose her.
Half asleep, all Sara Sidle could manage to say was a half mumble of "Are you okay?"
Trying his best not to let his feelings be shown in his words, he said as strongly as he could, "Of course." Without a crack revealed, he felt very proud of himself.
She murmured an agreement and fell right back to sleep, leaving Greg alone with his thoughts, sleep being the farthest from his mind.
"So... food after shift?"
"Sure, why not?"
"... Really?!"
"Gee, Greg. You don't need to sound so excited… You might just be giving away hints of your feelings."
"I've never hidden my feelings for you, Sara."
"Um... I'll see you after shift then."
He trailed his hands along the side of her body, her back to him, and relished in the feel of her bare skin along his. She was soft, like a newborn baby’s and he took every chance he could to touch her, no matter how short the moment would be. It was during times like this that he took the most attention towards her, a notion Sara had come to notice and could stand to ignore, especially when she was in dire need of some sleep.
As he touched each and every patch of skin, each stroke leaving him more and more depressed as he thought of what was to happen next.
"So you show Sofia your place, but not me? I'm hurt."
"It wasn't really a showing, so to speak. And anyway, you've denied each and every one of my offers."
“Well, I didn’t know you were showing it to other people.”
"So, I'm not allowed to show it to others. And not you either. Any other rules I don't know of?"
*laughs*
"..." *laughs a little too* "Wuh-why are you laughing?!"
"You are too!" *laughs more*
"Only because you are!"
*giggles* "You sound like a little child, Greg."
*serious* "I’m the farthest from a little child." *pause* "I’m sorry..."
*serious* "No need to be sorry… Let's try it again, shall we?"
He touched the crook of her back gently and slowly made a path from there to the bottom of her neck. Soon, his hands weren't enough to remember her and he left kisses along the her shoulders as a way of leaving his own mark, no matter how short that time would be. His hands, during this time, were now in her hair. She was still dead asleep as he brushed her soft hair with his fingers, amazed at how silky it felt even if she denied taking care of it as much as she did.
It was always a contrast with his own hair, which only turned smooth when he was running it through water. Something Sara had discovered in the shower one day to her immense delight. She always loved his hair wet and frequently told him that he shouldn’t put any gel in it or all those chemicals in it.
"I could love you, you know?"
"Only could? Well, that's a tad insulting. I COULD love you, but you know what, I don't really think I'm up to that point yet. Just like. Actually… Maybe lower than that. I don't really know."
*smack* "Don't say it like that! You know. I've never really been able to love anybody. I've grown up not and I just... Just don't know how it's supposed to feel."
"Well, I think that love is not something you can say anyway. It's in your actions. It's in the feeling of longing and desire for the other. The comfortability you feel in each other's presence. The fire you feel for one another. And there's much more. Much much more."
"Do-do you feel that for me?"
"Yes. Yes, I do, Sara."
"How can you say it so simply?"
"Because it’s just that easy."
His eyes shut as he stopped his worshipping of her. All he wanted to do now was just sleep there and hug her all he could. Suddenly, the feeling of another in the bed disappeared all together and Greg was struck by how lonely the bed felt. There wasn't another body sinking into the mattress along with his and nobody lay beside him. He sat up abruptly and felt around the blankets, as though expecting her to be there. His eyes watered as he grabbed the pillow beside him and held it up to his nose. He took in a deep breath and nearly broke when he smelt vanilla.
"Greg... There's been an accident. Sara... She was shot at the scene by the suspect. It appears he came back."
"Is... is she going to be all right?"
"The doctor's say it's unlikely. She was shot-"
"She's going to die?"
"..."
"Grissom! Tell me if she's going to die! Tell me the truth!"
"... I’m sorry, Greg. She was pregnant too. Only a month along."
Greg threw the blankets off of him and stumbled into the bathroom. He switched on the light and turned on the sink’s water. Rinsing his face in the cold water, he shuddered at the feel. He forced himself to look into the mirror and only saw a pale version of himself, his eyes red with tears that had been shed but hidden, his hair messy without the upkeep it was used to.
Collapsing in the bathroom, he felt the tears come back to his eyes and this time, he didn't hold them back. In the quiet, safe of this room, he thought he could afford a good cry. If he was to be called weak, so be it. Greg Sanders had, after all, lost the love of his life.