Room 146

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

*Feeling much better, though apologetic for giving Grissom her illness, Sara heads to his room.*

*She might not eat chicken noodle soup, but he does. As it is also a treatment day for him, she also wants to see how he is doing on that front.*

[ooc: Same old story--drgrissom only, please.]

Comments

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

The door is open, and Grissom is lying in his couch, his eyes closed. The TV is blaring in the background, stuck on a bad talk show he obviously isn't interested in, or probably even aware is on.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

*A light knock against the door and she walks past, a thermos of the soup in her hand.*

*Seeing Gil, she sets it on a table and walks over, lightly stroking a hand over his forehead.*

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He opens his eyes and looks for a moment like he isn't focusing properly, and then glances up at her. In a low, scratchy voice he says, "Hey."

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Hey. How're you feeling? *She winces right after saying that.* Sorry about the cold--I didn't know I was coming down with something.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"Worth it," he mutters, although there isn't a lot of romance to be found in his tone at the moment. "How're you?" he says, words slurring together.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Feeling much better. *She strokes his forehead again.* Up to eating anything?

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He looks vaguely nauseated by the very idea. "No," he replies quietly, shaking his head back and forth for a moment before giving up and closing his eyes again.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Okay. Just rest here a sec. *Getting up, she makes her way into his kitchen, puttering around for a few minutes. She returns with a glass of water--he needs to stay hydrated--and a cool washcloth. Folding it, she lays it on his head.*

How did it go?

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"Fine," he chokes out - his throat is obviously bothering him, and he shivers a bit. "How was... your day?"

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

*Another brief trip and she has a bucket nearby as well--never let it be said she is unprepared.* Most of my physics students didn't bother to show up. I'm a little pissed about that. I had a thermodynamics experiment.

*Putting a straw in the glass, she holds the other end to his lips.* Drink--just a little. It'll help your throat, Gil.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He sits up a little bit, and does as he's told, taking a slow but decently lengthy sip. One eye is tearing slightly but he doesn't seem to notice, struggling to get some water down.

"I'm sorry. Friday, tough to get the kids to..." he winces, "focus."

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

The class meets only once a week -- here, let me get you something for your eye -- so you'd think they could manage. Oh well. Their grades, not mine.

*Putting the glass down, she fishes out a handkerchief.*

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"My students are good about attending... those that haven't vanished, anyway."

He looks a little uncomfortable with her dabbing at his face, but says nothing, his breathing slightly labored.

"Thanks. You don't have to stay. I took..." he pauses for a moment, uncharacteristically still in a mental fog, mostly due to the pain. "Something."

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

*She chuckles.* Are we going to keep arguing over this? I'm staying--let me get the heat wraps.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"Not arguing," he sighs. "Can you help me with my shirt?"

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Of course. *Helping him sit up further, she helps him adjust his shirt as necessary.*

*Opening the heat wraps, she carefully applies them to the appropriate arm.* How does that feel?

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"Better, thank you," and it obviously is a bit of a help, because the lines of pain across his face fade some.

"I should go lay down in the bedroom, I think."

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Okay. *She stands, ready to lend a shoulder to lean against.*

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He stands up okay on his own, but lingers next to her as they walk into the bedroom. He immediately sits down on the edge of the bed, looking a little lost, before fumbling one-handed with his belt. "You can roll the TV in, if you'd like. It's one one of those... things, the wheels..."

He gives up on his belt and clenches that hand into a fist. "Fuck," he says quite angrily and a bit too loudly for his throat, and frustration mounts in his eyes silently.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

*She doesn't say anything--platitudes will not help. Instead, she walks over, touching his hand gently, her eyes full of understanding. Then she brings over sweatpants and helps him change out of his clothes.*

*After he is settled, she gives him a minute while she goes to get the TV.*

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He calms down on his own with a minute of space, and takes the time to pull down the blankets for her and adjust the pillows on her side of the bed. When she reenters the room, he's lying down facing the doorway, and gives her a subtle smile.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Behave. We're resting tonight. *Despite her words, she smiles back, setting up the TV.* There's a crappy disaster movie on the SciFi channel.

*TV adjusted, she kicks off her shoes and climbs into the bed.*

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"I don't suppose I'm going to luck out and have it be a plague of locusts," he says before coughing a few times.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Actually, it has something to do with mutated praying mantises so you might enjoy this. After that, they're showing Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. Must be B-Movie Night. *She snuggles up next to him, keeping her hand on the remote.*

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"Mmmmm, giant carnivorous insects, my favorite. I'll assume they programmed the tomatoes for your type," he says, voice still scratchy but with a bit more humor. He takes another sip of water, and puts the glass down before wrapping his good arm around her.

Despite feeling rather awful physically, he feels a strange sense of comfort in the moment. When she flips on the TV, he waits for a few moments as she channel surfs, and then leans over to whisper into her hair. "I missed you last weekend."

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

"Main thing I remember about the praying mantis is that the female rips off the head of her mate after they finish procreation. Guess the guys aren't all they're cracked up to be." An amused look.

And that? That is Sara melting. "I missed you too--I didn't know you had left, until late Friday evening when I came by. Mike mentioned he emailed you--was he a jerk?"

Cont.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"No, he was very civil," he reassures her. "Sorry, I forgot to mention it. He's protective of you, but I can respect that. I wrote him back; I didn't want him to think I was ignoring him. Is that okay with you?"

Re: Cont.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Of course it was. *She chuckles.* He's been like that since we were kids and...after Dad was killed. Never grew out of it.

Re: Cont.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He smiles out of her line of sight, glad she had someone looking out for her even if she acted sometimes as if she didn't need it. "I look forward to meeting him," he says honestly. "I didn't realize you had told him about me."

Re: Cont.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

I hadn't realized how often I honestly had, until I was telling him about us. *She leans her head against his shoulder.* His response, after telling me he will gut you if you hurt me and string your innards six-ways-from-Sunday, was that it was about damned time.

Re: Cont.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He kisses her forehead lightly and chuckles. "Sounds like you saved some of the brains in the family for him after all."

Turning to look at her face-to-face, he drops his head back on the pillow. "I told him I would do the best I can."

Re: Cont.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

Thats all we can do, Gil. I'm not looking for perfection. I just want you. *Her turn to kiss his forehead.* But right now, I want you to rest, all right?

Re: Cont.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"I don't think I have a choice, anyway," he admits almost sadly, closing his eyes and stroking her upper arm a few times.

He's not looking at her, and that almost seems like the time to say what he's thinking - has been thinking and trying to say for weeks now.

"Sara..."

He trails off again, still unable to do it, and keeps his eyes shut, listening to the TV in the background. He squeezes her gently, "You going to stay for a little while?"

Re: Cont.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

No one is perfect. I'm not a picnic to be around at times. We'll both fuck up--I know that. But...I can say in all honesty that I am much happier with you than I ever was without you. *She doesn't look at him while saying this, but she means every word.*

I'll stay as long as you like, Gil. *She kisses his temple.*

Re: Cont.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

He's starting to fade a little bit, the exhaustion fairly overwhelming, but he leans his head down and kisses her softly on the lips, eyes still closed. "I don't want you to ever leave."

Re: Cont.

[equalsmcsquared.livejournal.com]

You're mine. I'm yours. I'm not letting go. *She pulls the blanket up over them--it's the weekend, they have no obligations anywhere.* Good night, Gil.

Re: Cont.

[drgrissom.livejournal.com]

"I won't either."

His tone is solemn, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. Where would they be without her ability to be so blunt, he wonders to himself. He relaxes his hold on her a little, but pulls her back to him. "Good night."