STILLNESS BROKEN

Part One – Sara: To Still the Beating of my Heart

Disclaimer: I don't own them. If this comes a shock to you, you have some serious issues and I'd recommend watching multiple CSI episodes back to back. Either that or we start a support group.

The story title, "Stillness Broken", the title of this part, "To Still the Beating of my Heart" and the title of the next part, "Fantastic Terrors Never Felt Before" all come from Edgar Allen Poe's poem The Raven', because I'm useless at thinking up my own titles, so I borrow phrases from other people who are smarter than me.

Oh, this takes place a few months after 'The Most Perfect Sleep', for the sake of continuity and to make it sound as though I have some kind of pre-conceived plan for my fics. You don't need to have read that.

***

Grissom lay on his back, thanking all possible deities and idols for the fact that he'd had a ceiling fan installed in his bedroom several years ago. Las Vegas was in the grip of a record heat wave and trying to sleep at night was bad enough, let alone sleeping during the hottest part of the day.

Sara came in from the bathroom and crawled under the sheet. Grissom allowed himself exactly two seconds to consider that sleeping in the day during a heat wave while curled up with another person probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world before enveloping her body with his. He noted that she wasn't protesting about it; the blissful smile on her face as she wrapped an arm around him suggested the opposite. "Sleep well," he whispered, letting his lips brush her hair.

The blissful smile turned into a slightly cheekier one as she replied, "I always do."

***

It was the cry that woke him. It was a terrified, panicked cry, ripping through the quiet of their bedroom. Heart pounding, Grissom became aware of the fact that Sara was struggling desperately against him, her breath coming in ragged, frantic gasps. "Sara," he said, trying to make his voice as calm and soothing as possible. "Sara, sweetheart, you're having a nightmare. Sara, wake up."

"No!" she cried. "No, don't, don't, please." She was still fighting. Reluctantly, Grissom let go of her and she rolled away from him, still visibly in the thick of her nightmare.

"Sara, come on, wake up, Sara, it's all right, you're safe, Sara, come on, honey, please, wake up."

He'd known her to have nightmares before, but never ones as bad as this. He knew what had happened in her past, what she was probably reliving right now. He felt sick to his stomach suddenly.

"Don't, please, please, please, don't, I can't, no, please just leave me alone, no don't." She was talking incoherently, thrashing around. Grissom realised she was trying to free herself of the sheet that she'd become entangled in. He reached out for her again, trying to soothe her. She flinched away from his hand and dangerously close to the edge of the bed. "Wake up, sweetheart. Come on, Sara." He ignored the flailing hands and pulled her to him, holding her close. She was almost screaming, repeating the word no' over and over again. "Wake up. It's a nightmare, Sara, just a nightmare." Her eyes opened, a haunted look clear behind the tears as her cries died away.

"Oh god," she gasped. "Oh god. Griss..." He held her as tightly as he could as she clung to him, rubbing her back with one hand. She had buried her face against his chest and he could feel the sobs racking her body. Grissom felt utterly helpless, more so than he had ever done in his life. It was as though Sara had been reduced to a shadow of herself by this dream, by that thing that had happened to her. She didn't deserve this. No one did.

"Griss..."

"You're all right, honey. It was a nightmare. You're safe, Sara. You're always safe with me."

"I hate – this," she sobbed. "I hate – having to – remember what happened. I don't - " Her voice was overtaken by another bout of sobbing.

"Shh. Shh. It's okay. Don't try to talk if you don't want to." He could feel the tension in her body disappearing slowly. She was covered in sweat, both from fear and from her frantic exertions in the heat. "It's over now, Sara."

"It's not over – it's never over – I can't forget. I can't forget..."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry, honey. I wish I could make it go away." Grissom heard his voice crack and swallowed.

They lay like that for several minutes more, as Sara's terror faded away, leaving her limp and exhausted but still clinging to Grissom. "I'm going to get and get you some water," he whispered when her breathing had returned to normal. "I'll be as quick as I can. Will you be all right if I leave you for a few moments?"

She nodded, weakly. Grissom kissed her head and slid off the bed. Sara lay with her eyes closed, cheeks flushed pink and tear-stained. The self-confident, intelligent woman seemed to have disappeared.

In the bathroom, he turned on the lights, letting them flood the room. He stood still for a second or two, trying to gather his thoughts and concentration. He felt strangely nauseated, both by what Sara had just been through and by the feeling he couldn't shake of having witnessed her at her most vulnerable. He knew perfectly well he was the only person she'd let inside those barriers of steel she had up. He knew this because he was like her in that sense.

Filling a glass with water, he grabbed a facecloth and soaked it in cold water. Sara hadn't moved, but she did open her eyes as Grissom sat down beside her and maneuvered her into a sitting position, holding her carefully against his chest. She sipped the water robotically, and let him wipe her face and neck with the cloth. This almost catatonic state scared Grissom as much as the nightmare itself had. "Sara... talk to me, honey," he whispered, nuzzling the top of her head.

"I feel sick."

"I'm not surprised. Are you going to be sick?" he asked gently.

"No."

"Okay." The only sound in the room was the rhythmic whirling of the ceiling fan, bathing them in cool air. "What can I do to make you feel better?"

"Just keep holding me. Please. Please just keep holding me."

"I'll never let you go, if that's what you want. I love you, Sara."

"I know."

As he carefully inched their bodies back so he could lean against the headboard of the bed, Grissom wondered if Sara was in a fit state to work in four hours. How would the horrors of work tonight play havoc with the images which were probably still vividly superimposed on her brain? He knew that her work was her salvation, her own way of paying back the people who had hurt her. If and when she came out of this state, she would probably kill him if he tried to stop her going to work or tried to put her on something easy. He couldn't let their personal life come past of the doors of the lab. He knew that, and so did she. Sighing, he rubbed her arm gently. What had happened between them had certainly made life interesting in more ways than one, but he'd never regretted it. Not for a single second.

Lost in his thoughts, Grissom returned rapidly to the present as Sara began to talk, obviously trying to hide the pain in her voice behind a facade of dullness. "You know, I always wonder what happened to those guys. If they ever think about what they did to me. It was a joke to them, they were drunk, they thought they'd try and loosen me up a bit. They probably never realised what they really did to me. And I keep thinking, I wonder if they did it to any other girls like me? If they thought they could get away with it because I was too ashamed to report them? If there are any other girls out there like me who got hurt because of me I can't... I don't..."

"Because of you? Don't blame yourself. Don't. You were scared, and - and – and lonely – you can't change the past, Sara."

"I wish I could," she whispered, then looked up at him. "Thank you. Thank you for just – for being here. I could hear your voice, you know, in my dream. I was holding on to that. It's the first time someone's ever – been there – when I've been like that. And... it helps."

"You're welcome." Grissom contemplated the big brown eyes. "Will you be all right to go back to sleep? We've still got a few hours."

"Yeah. I'll sleep like a light now. Always do."

They straightened the sheet out over them and lay down again, wrapped up in each other and each other's bodies. Sara murmured, "I love you," and soon the only sound in the room was that of the ceiling fan.

***

TBC... and now it's Grissom's turn...