Believe
Fandom: CSI
Rating: PG, angst, character death
Notes: For the LiveJournal 15minuteficlets challenge - true.
It’s yet another unbearably hot day in
If anyone asks, he’ll blame the sun for the tears streaming down his cheeks.
Not that he thinks anyone will.
He’s lost in thought, happily blocking out everything that’s going on around him, because he doesn’t want to believe. That lasts until a familiar car pulls up outside the driveway, comes squealing to a stop. He can see Greg behind the wheel, wild hair even wilder than usual; Nick beside him, his jaw clenched tight enough that Warrick’s jaw aches just looking at him.
But he doesn’t waste too long looking at Greg and Nick, not when Sara is the first one out of the car, tumbling from the back seat.
If Greg’s hair is wilder than usual, hers is more so, but it’s her face that most concerns Warrick. Her skin is chalk white, drawn tighter over her cheekbones than it was this morning, her eyes wild and rimmed in red as they find his. He doesn’t take his eyes away from her as she makes a bee-line for him, and he knows he should say something to her, but he can’t seem to make his voice work.
She stops when she gets to him, and whatever she sees in his eyes, she mustn’t like it, or want to believe it, or both, because she makes to step past him, to go into the crime scene. The second he realises that’s her intention, he grabs her arm, steps in front of her to block her path. “Sara…” he says, and he can’t believe that’s really his voice, so hoarse, so grief-stricken. “You don’t want to go in there.”
It’s all he says, but it’s enough to have her visibly wilting, and he grips her arm tighter as she grows even paler, shaking her head. “Tell me it’s not true,” she whispers, her voice every bit as horrified as he feels, and he wants nothing more than to do that.
He just can’t. All he can do is stare helplessly at her.
“Please, Warrick…” She tries again, begging now. “Please, Warrick… tell me it’s not true… it can’t be true…”
Her voice trails off as something catches her attention, and he follows her gaze to see a body being carried out, David and Doc Robbins walking behind. He’s never seen either of them cry before, but he doesn’t have time to ponder on that, not when Sara’s knees finally give out and she collapses against him.
He lowers her gently to the ground, cradling her head against his shoulder, only dimly aware of Nick and Greg turning away from them, their gazes locked on the body being loaded into the coroner’s van. “I’m sorry, Sara,” he whispers into her hair, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see it anymore. “I’m so, so sorry.”
She doesn’t respond to him, just sobs in his arms and whispers Grissom’s name, and for the first time in this terrible day, Warrick believes.