Multifandom Imagines (and a Headcanon set here and there)

Carried with me - Gil Grissom Self-Comfort fic

(A/N: A short, directionless piece, more for my comfort than anything else.  Rated 16+ for some references to sex.  Also, there's like, a bit of scientific ranting {it's CSI and I'm ALLOWED to be scientific}.)

Gil woke up to the vacant feeling of a comforting weight having been removed from on top of him. He turned his head and looked at his clock; it was 9.13 pm.  There was still about an hour and forty-five minutes before his shift would start.

He turned his head to look at his other side.  There, he saw me lying on my side, facing away from him.  He flipped onto his side and scooted over, putting his hand on my shoulder.  "Hey," he said genially.  But I shook him off, reaching my hand to gently push his away, letting out an uncomfortable whimper as I shrunk away from him, a sickly shiver running up my back.  "I wasn't that bad this afternoon was I?"  he tried to joke, retracting his hand.

I weakly shook my head.  "You were great Gil.  I just..." I sighed shakily, the air in my throat passing over the accumulating phlegm.  "I don't want to talk about it."

I could feel his concerned, loving gaze on my back.  He said, "Alright.  I'll go and shower okay?"  I nodded a little.  He slid his feet onto the floor, and stood up. When he walked past me, I watched his feet.  I always loved his careful, timid tread.  But I turned onto my other side just before he turned on the bathroom light.

Some time later, I heard the water get turned off. He opened the door, and the humidity that gushed out did nothing to help the unclean state I was in. He grabbed the clothes he had worn (and that I had impatiently tossed away after stripping them off him) in the afternoon. As he did, he said, "Go and shower. I'll make dinner." Knowing that I heard him, he did not wait for a response. He went to hang his towel, then exited the bedroom.

Gil was busy cooking when he turned his head to see me tentatively approaching the kitchen area, hunched over slightly. He smiled to try and comfort me. I smiled back weakly and shuffled over to the chair, pretty much collapsing onto it. He tactfully went back to cooking and did not pay attention to me, which I was really grateful for.  When I felt someone's head lightly butting my leg, I absentmindedly reached down and petted him, not looking at him.

Shortly after, Gil was done cooking. Seeing as Hank was at my feet and impeding my movement, Gil brought me my food. "Thanks." Gil got us water as well.

He put his hands on the table and slid down into the seat opposite me, looking at me. As he did, he asked gently, "So, are you going to tell me what's on your mind now?"

I looked at my food and picked at it with my fork; he knew that meant I was thinking, so he waited. "I just hate myself, okay?" I murmured painfully.

"I am aware of that, but what brought it about this time?" he said without jest or judgement. I looked up at him and saw the sincerity in his face; I was really blessed that he always listened to me.

"My mind...it's...fucked up." I paused for a moment before continuing, casting my downwards and off to the side. "I woke up feeling great, actually. But then...but then I remembered..." I took a breath. "I remembered that there were a few times...when I was younger, on the rare occasions that I woke up feeling good, my parents would come and ruin it..." I hung my head in sadness, my arms sliding off the table with the loss in spirit.

Gil took a moment before responding, and I knew he was frowning in thought. "But that's not your fault. Those were things that actually happened to you, and you have bad memories. You can't help it."

"Yeah but why can't I enjoy something without remembering what used to happen to me?" I said as I put my elbows on the table and put my hands over my face, rubbing my eyes.

I heard Gil stand, and soon felt him come to my side and put his arm around my waist; I gasped and started to cry more when he brought me into him, and I could feel him, his warm body, his comforting presence. He reached in between my body and my arms and put his other arm around my shoulders. "What I said still stands," he said gently. "You relate your current situations with what you fear may happen, because they have happened before. Those memories will stay with you forever, and I wish I could take them away. But even though I can't, I accept them as a part of you, and I will help you with them." I was trying not to have a complete breakdown by then. He held me and shushed me. He did not say anything, but he comforted me by just being there.

He eventually calmed me down, and we got through with our food. He offered to clean up and let me rest, given that I was still shaken. I nodded to show my gratitude and plodded up to the bedroom, leaving Hank in the dining area. I changed into my work clothes and collapsed on my back onto the bed. Some time later, Gil came in as well. As he changed his clothes, I slowly brought myself up out of bed. We turned off the air conditioning and left the room. We went to get what we needed to bring to work. I also took Hank's collar and leash and put them on him, while Gil went around the house and switched off any electricity. "Get in the back with Hank," Gil said, knowing I would want to. I murmured my thanks and did what he said, closing the door behind me while Gil got into the driver's seat. Once I put on my seatbelt, I put my arms around Hank and brought him close. He was happy for the attention and gladly licked my face, his tail wagging with his happy yaps.  I would have dog fur on my clothes when I went to work, but that would not matter as I could wear coveralls. Once Gil was safely buckled in and his door was shut, he made the journey to the dog daycare.

The ride was silent except for Hank's loving sounds. When we reached our destination, Gil parked, and turned around in his seat to face me. "Do you want to send Hank in, or shall I?"

I leant my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes. "Uh...does that mean I will have to talk to the people...?"

"I'm afraid it does." I sighed, but he was already getting out of the car to come around to the back. I kept my eyes shut while Gil brought Hank down. Even when he came back to the car and started to drive to the crime lab, I kept dozing.  At the lab, we got out of the car and headed inside.  Gil was the one who clocked in for the both of us; since he could not help me emotionally, he kept doing things for me physically so that I could process my thoughts and feelings.  In the break room, he sat on the couch and I snuggled up to him, making tired sounds of emotional discomfort as I buried my face in his neck.  He held me, letting me feel what I needed to.  The other members of our team showed up; they looked at us but did not say anything, because they were used to me needing Gil's comfort at all times.

When Judy came in with the assignment papers, Gil held a hand out for them and received them with a 'thank you'.  With his one hand, he fanned out the sheets and read them.  (It was just as well he had a lot of practice from poker.)  "Catherine, Warrick, four-nineteen on the Strip.  Nick, Greg, robbery in Henderson."  Catherine and Nick took their respective papers and left with their partners, leaving the last one.  Gil turned to me.  "(Y/n), trash run with me."  He kissed my head.  I blushed a little, whatever hormones flowing and tricking me into feeling things still going insane.  He rubbed my back, soothing me until I was ready.