Title: Through Life and Death and The Space Between
Author: T'Lin
E-mail: LinkyS@svpress.us
Web Page: http://www.geocities.com/tlin_s/
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Grissom/Brass
Rating: FRT-13 (PG-13)
Archiving: yes to WWOMB and my own web page, all others, please ask first.
Summary: After Brass is shot, Grissom has some difficult decisions to make ... far more difficult that anyone knows.
Spoilers: The last scene of "Bang, Bang", and the snippets from the preview for the next episode, "Way To Go". This story was mostly written before "Way To Go" aired, so any spoilers to that episode are minor, and coincidental.
A/N: This story takes place in an alternate reality ... inspired by my reading of the SylumClan site, but not of that universe.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I only take them out to play with for a while. I promise to put everyone back where they belong, unharmed, when I am done. No copyright infringement is intended, nor any money made.

The vest should have protected him, but it didn't. And it's not that the kevlar didn't do its job ... but a lucky shot let one of the bullets slip beneath the vest at his shoulder, and into his body. When it passed through him, the kevlar deflected it back, and into his body once again, to do more damage.

The full extent of his injuries was unknown ... stopping the blood loss, and getting him stable was priority one at the moment, and Grissom could only sit here, and wait.

It seemed as if hours passed by, when at last the doctor came out to speak to him. Without preamble, he said, "We've stopped the bleeding, repaired his damaged lung, and set his bones, as the bullet shattered his collar bone. He's stable at the moment, but still in critical condition, on complete life support."

"For how long?" Grissom asked, wanting to go to see him for himself, but needing to get some answers first.

"I'll be completely honest with you," the doctor said, gesturing for Grissom to take a seat, as he continued, "the damage was quite extensive, and he lost a lot of blood. There is a high probability that he suffered some brain damage due to lack of oxygen ... how much, we can't determine until he wakes -- if he wakes." The doctor paused and looked at Grissom, who had closed his eyes to hide his emotions from the doctor. The doctor placed his hand on Grissom's shoulder, and when the other man looked at him, he continued, "There's also the matter of the bullet ... it is still lodged against his spine. In a day or two, if he's stronger, we'll assess whether or not it can be removed without doing more damage."

"What are his chances?" Grissom asked, needing to know.

"I'm not a bookie, Mister Grissom," the doctor said, continuing, "I can only give you the facts. His condition is grave, and his injuries are quite sever; brain damage, paralysis and death are all a possibility, and at this time, there is no way to assess whether leaving the bullet in, or removing it, would be the best option."

"I see," Grissom said, then asked, "May I see him?"

"Of course," the doctor replied, and as they stood, he said, "I wish I could give you more ... but it's too soon. I just thought I'd prepare you for the worst, as you may have some very difficult decisions to make concerning his care."

"Thank you, Doctor," Grissom said, as he shook his hand, "I appreciate your honesty," and then he went in search of Jim Brass ... his friend ... his colleague ... his lover.

*****

One after another, his team came by to check on Brass, and offer to spell him on his vigil, so he could get some rest. Much to everyone's surprise, since none of the team knew that he and Brass were lovers, he declined their offers. Even though the doctors had said there was nothing he could do, he needed to stay close by, just in case. He knew that, if Brass should start to slip away, there was something he, and only he, could do.

He could bring him across.

It was something that Gil Grissom had been thinking about, ever since his relationship with Jim had passed from one of simple friendship into lovers. But finding the right time to bring the subject of vampirism up, let alone admit that he was one of the undead, and had been for nearly four hundred years ... well that just hadn't happened yet.

And now, he may not get a chance to talk to him ... in the end, he may loose Jim no matter what decision he makes ... either through his death ... or far worse in Gil's mind, hatred of what Gil had made him, in order to save him.

******

flashback

a battlefield, drenched in blood and broken bodies ... he was but one of thousands bleeding and dying ... yet somehow, he was spared ... as he lay there between life and death, a vision came, and offered him hope ... hope of a future where there would be no more pain ... no more hurt ... no more death

at least, not for him ...

and he accepted this wonderful offer, amid the ruin and destruction all around him ... and when he arose from the pain of transformation, the world was new and wonderful

then he learned that there was still pain ... and hurt ... and loss

for his immortal soul was always left behind, while those he touched, and loved, and cherished inevitably died

********

The constant beeping of an alarm woke Gil from his dream. Instinctively, he looked at the monitors above Jim's head, as a nurse came into the room. She saw his concern, and said, "It's the respirator. He's fighting it ... trying to breath on his own."

"That's good, right," Gil asked, knowing that it had to be.

"Yes," she replied, as she made some adjustments to the machine. After a moment, the alarm stopped, and she stepped away, adding, "the respirator is now only assisting his breathing. The fact that he triggered the alarm is a good sign, however he's still far too weak to breath fully on his own." She then spent a few minutes checking his vital signs, and making some notations on his chart. When she was done, she said, "Talk to him ... let him know you are here ... that he's not alone. I'm a firm believer that the subconscious mind is fully aware of what's being said in situations like this, and knowing that loved ones are nearby helps in the recovery process."

Gil looked her in the eyes, recognizing a kindred soul, and smiled, saying, "I will ... and thank you." As he watched her leave, Gil pulled the chair closer to the bedside, and took hold of Jim's hand, softly telling him that he was not alone.

In the quiet hours before dawn, Gil whispered the truth of his existence to his unconscious lover, certain that through the telling, the bond he wished to forge between them would grow, and there would be no revulsion or fear when Jim woke from his coma. But in the morning, there had been no change; Jim's future was still uncertain.

The doctor came in shortly after 8, and looking at the chart, said, "Good, he's breathing on his own now." Then after a slight pause, continued, "I think he's stable enough to withstand the surgery to remove the bullet. We know that it is lodged in the spine. What we don't know is whether or not it has damaged the spinal chord."

Here, the doctor paused, and Grissom nodded his head in understanding, urging the doctor to continue, "He is not currently reacting to stimuli ... due to damage or pressure from the bullet, we don't know. We do know that if the bullet remains, he will most likely be paralyzed. If we remove the bullet, there is a possibility that he will be fine ... of course, removing the bullet can cause damage to the chord, as well. The possibility of paralysis remains, regardless." The doctor paused once more before adding, "And of course, he's still weak ..."

"I understand, Doctor," Gil said, knowing that Jim's fate was still out of his control. If he told them to go through with the surgery, and something went wrong, he would be lost. But not removing the bullet could be just as fatal, even if he were to bring him across ... after all, one of the ways to kill a vampire was to sever it's spine. The bullet may have already done it's damage, making it impossible for Gil to successfully bring him across ... or could do so today, tomorrow, or fifty years from now, if it shifted. "Do it," he said quietly, and bent down to kiss Jim's forehead before stepping away.

*******

"Are you going to save him, like you saved me?" Greg asked softly, as he sat beside Grissom in the waiting area.

Grissom's eyes had been closed, yet he had not been startled. He and Greg shared a bond ... a bond forged in blood when there had been an explosion in the lab, and Greg died in Grissom's arms. At that time, there had been no time to think ... no time to question his motives ... Grissom acted instinctively, and used his dark gift to save the young man's life.

Luckily, the lab had been deserted, except for Greg, when the explosion hit, so nobody saw him take the wounded man out ... otherwise, there would have been far too many questions raised about his injuries, and how they healed so quickly.

Grissom opened his eyes, saying, "It's not quite as simple," then took hold of the younger man's hand as he continued, "I wish it were. Too many witnesses for me to have done anything at the time ... even if I had been there with him when he was shot. And now ..."

Greg gave his sire's hand a squeeze, as Grissom's words trailed off. "He's tough," he said, then added, "and he loves you. If he's half the man I know him to be, that won't change, no matter what."

"I think you're right," Grissom agreed as he pulled Greg to him, and offered a friendly hug. He had forgotten that Greg had once asked Jim out on a date, only to be turned down because he was too young ... at least, that was the excuse Jim had given, since he and Grissom were already seeing one another, but trying to keep in quiet. Greg learned the truth only after he had been brought across. After a moment, they separated, and Grissom continued, "If he makes it through this surgery, spinal chord intact, I'll feel less ... insecure about his future."

"If he gets through this ..." Greg said, yet got no further, as the doctor stepped into the waiting room.

"We got the bullet," he said, adding "the chord was undamaged, and he is responding to stimuli."

"Thank you, Doctor," Grissom said with a sigh of relief, then standing, walked toward him as he asked, "How long before he comes out of the anesthesia?"

"He should be coming out of it about now," the doctor replied, adding, "but if you are asking when he'll waken, that is still unknown."

"Understood," Grissom said, feeling Greg place his hand on his shoulder in a show of support. Grissom covered Greg's hand with his own, as he asked, "May I sit with him?"

"Not just yet," the doctor said, then added when he saw impatience in Grissom's eyes, "I'll have the nurse get you, once he's in his room." And with that, the doctor left.

Grissom turned to face Greg, and the younger man pulled him close, whispering, "He'll be OK now, I promise."

Grissom knew that there was no way that Greg could fulfill that promise, but somehow, it made him feel better to hear him make it.

********

Ten minutes later, Grissom was sitting by Jim's bed, holding his hand and telling him that everything was going to be fine. When he suddenly felt his fingers being squeezed ever so slightly, he smiled, and said, "Jim?"

Jim's eyes fluttered open, and his fingers tightened a bit more. "Hey," he said hoarsely, then closed his eyes.

"Hey, yourself," Grissom said, smiling. "You gave us quite a scare, you know," he said, trying to keep his voice light, but failing miserably, as tears filled his eyes.

"Me, too," Jim whispered, and after a small pause, he said, "I had the strangest dream ... you and Greg ... were ..." but he stopped, looked deep into Grissom's eyes, and shook his head slightly, before continuing, "doesn't matter ... I love you."

"It wasn't a dream, Jim," Grissom said as he bent down to kiss him lightly. When he sat back, and looked into Jim's eyes, there was disbelief and curiosity, but no fear ... no revulsion. For that, Grissom was grateful ... and for now, that would suffice. Jim was out of immediate danger, so there was time. "I love you," he whispered, and bent down to kiss him one more time, adding, "through life and death, and the space between."

~the end ... for now