Putting It Together

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine at all. CSI belongs to CBS. Blah, blah, blah…

Chapter 1

The night seemed to drag on for Sara. This was the hardest case in the past few months. Not the case itself, but the context of the case. She could not help but feel affected by the past few hours. Her arms were lying on the railing in front of her. A warm breeze fluttered around her, but all Sara could feel was cold. She swallowed hard looking out over the LVPD parking lot.

Grissom stood inside the double doors of the LVPD building watching Sara's still body. She had her arms propped on the railing, but she was not leaning on it for support. He had waited to see how affected she had been by the case. The drive back to the lab had been overly tense. Sara had not said one word since she finished processing the scene. In fact, when Grissom thought about it, he had not heard a word out of her since they had entered the house.

Sara shuddered despite the warm evening as she was remembering the events.

This particular Tuesday she came to work an hour early to finish up some paperwork from the day before when the 419 came over her phone. Grissom walked into the breakroom where she was poring over the paperwork and mumbled something Sara was unable to decipher. It was not until she looked up at him in almost distress with squinted eyes at the interruption that Grissom realized she had not heard a word he had said.

"419, dead body, crime scene," he grumbled at her, "Crime Scene Investigator, job. Any of this sound familiar?" His irritation at not being heard was evident. "Kit. Two minutes at the Tahoe."

Something about his tone was off. Sara squinted further and sighed heavily. She knew better than to say anything to him that would further incense the man. Only a few times in the past had she seen him angry, and luckily it had never been directed at her. She was not about to change that tonight. In response to his words, Sara shut the folder in front of her, tucked it under her arm, hoisted herself from the chair, and followed him from the room.

Grissom looked almost pleased that she hadn't said anything to him. His head bent slightly towards the door as he slid out and went to retrieve his crime scene kit. His day had been fraught with sleeplessness. Despite his distaste for paperwork, Grissom had wanted nothing more than a peaceful shift in which he could drown himself in tedious experiments. He just wanted to relax. He had not had a day off in over two months.

In the car on the way over to the scene, Sara stole a few glances at him while he was driving. His appearance was not angry or upset – it was tired. He looked on the edge of nothingness. His stare in front of him was blank, where usually his look was apprehension, almost giddy at the thought of what he would find at the scene.

Sara felt for him in that moment. Even though she had no idea what was bothering him, she knew he needed comfort. He would never tell anyone that – Grissom was far too stubborn and proud – but Sara knew he needed it more than anything at that moment. She started to reach for him and tell him that everything would be okay. Knowing that he needed comfort was pushed aside for the knowledge that Grissom would be more hurt by appearing helpless.

The scene itself looked normal on the outside of the house. No one except the officer at the door had been inside to see the body that was waiting for them. Grissom and Sara were the first to arrive on the scene followed by mere seconds by Captain Brass. Brass lead the CSIs through the front door of the house. He talked to the officer while Sara followed Grissom further into the living room.

Iron. The smell hung in the air thickly. It was almost too thick to breathe. Involuntarily, both CSIs knew what to do and pulled on latex gloves while walking through the house. Nothing was amiss downstairs, so instinctively, they filed neatly and cautiously up the stairs. The bedroom – the real crime scene – upstairs awaited them.

One look at the room, and Sara drew in a deep breath. The copper filled her lungs almost choking her. A man lie on the bed in a most uncomfortable position, blood still dripping off of his outstretched hand that dangled just over the edge. Grissom turned around and looked at Sara. The pain and fear was evident on her face. Memories of a long ago past plagued her.

A few tense seconds passed before Sara backed slowly from the room. "I'm going to go talk to Brass and see what the witness has to say."

Knowing that words would not comfort her, Grissom nodded his approval. He wanted to give her space to do as she needed. As good of a CSI as she was, he knew it would still be hard to completely objective with such a vivid past that haunted her. Her retreat was quick and utterly silent.

Outside, Sara walked up to Brass. "Where's the wife?" she asked hoarsely.

"The suspect?" Brass scoffed, "She's by the squad car. The daughter is in the ambulance. Neither are talking, though."

Sara's attention was drawn to the woman – the suspect. The blue and red strobe lights of the cars highlighted the purple on the woman's face. Sara's gut tightened as she studied the woman more closely. Her neck, arms, and wrists matched the bruises on her face. Instinctively, Sara cast her look at the child in the ambulance. The little girl's long dark hair did not hide the marks she had as well. The distant stare in her eyes told Sara a story more heinous than words could ever portray.

Years vanished. It was flashbacks hit her in Polaroid form. The blood spatter on the walls upstairs. The spatter on the woman's shirt. The knife that was still in the man's chest. The bruises. The smell of iron and beer. The look of absent, empty pain in the girl's eyes. Tears were lightly welling up in Sara's eyes.

The door opening behind her startled Sara back to reality. She blinked her tears away. She begged herself to be strong. Sara knew she couldn't let herself be seen as weak in front of her peers. She hoped they weren't out here for her. Her pride was too strong to want a pity party at this stage of the game. Grissom was the only one that had ever seen her and known her innermost thoughts, and sometimes she hated that he knew. If there was one thing that she hated more than anything was to let Grissom see her at her worst and let him down because she was weak – human, even.

Her thoughts had drowned out the sound of the footsteps walking over to her. Her normally analytical mind was drawing a blank with the routine throws of society. Sara drew in a breath just as she felt a sudden breeze brush her neck and someone clearing their throat. She jumped almost out of her skin and clutched the railing.