Nick watched her out of the corner of his eye. The case they had just finished was one of the most brutal rape/homicides they had ever seen, and everyone had been shaken. Things had gotten even worse when a child became involved, and at that point even Grissom had snapped. Now that it was over, all they wanted to do was go home and do whatever they could to put the grisly crime scene images out of their heads.

Sara had stayed professional throughout the duration of the case, but now that they were packing up to go home, Nick could see that she was beginning to crack around the edges. There was a slight shake to her hands as she pulled her bag out of her locker and grabbed her jacket. Her eyes were unfocused and slightly watery, and she slammed her locker shut with more ferocity than was necessary.

He wanted to talk to her, to say something that would let her know that he was there if she needed to talk. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hug her tightly so that she would know that she wasn't alone. But as she slammed the locker door shut and breezed past him, his mouth refused to open and the words wouldn't come out.

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Linkin Park came screaming out of her apartment, and Nick was surprised that the neighbors hadn't asked her to turn it down yet. Of course, if any of them had seen the look on her face when she got home, they probably knew that it was better to just leave her alone.

He wondered for the millionth time if he should be there, if he should just turn around and go home. But he had seen the look in her eyes and he couldn't force himself to turn away. Not now.

Lifting his fist, Nick knocked on the door loudly. He fidgeted as he waited for Sara to come open the door, but she didn't come. He knocked again, even though he knew that the music was too loud for him to hear her.

Trying the handle, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. Slowly, he walked into the apartment, frowning when he heard the grunts and slaps coming from another room. He pulled out his weapon, fearing that someone had gotten into the apartment and was hurting his friend.

As he turned the corner into the living room, Nick lowered his gun and found himself smiling. Sara was in the middle of the room, beating the crap out of a punching bag as Linkin Park continued to blare out of her stereo. Her body was glistening with sweat and her breathing was heavy – she had obviously been at it for some time.

His smile faded as he realized that it wasn't just sweat that was rolling down her face – there were tears intermingled. As his eyes drifted down, he saw that she wasn't wearing boxing gloves either and her knuckles were torn to pieces, the punching bag wearing the blood stains. Holstering his gun, he stepped into the room, heading straight towards the stereo and turning it off. But still Sara didn't stop. Her punches continued at a furious rate, as though she was blaming the bag for everything that had happened to the victim.

"Sara."

She didn't answer and she didn't stop. It was like she was lost in her own world of pain and she couldn't hear him.

"Sara."

She punched harder, throwing her entire body into it. The tears were falling harder now, and her hits were becoming clumsier, more desperate.

"Sara."

She tried to keep ignoring him, but his hands were on her arms, stilling them. Gently, he pulled her back into his chest, holding her tightly and whispering softly in her ear. She tried to pull away, to go back to hitting the bag, but the fight had finally left her. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, and she relaxed into him. Her shoulders began to shake and Sara realized that she was finally crying – for the victim, for herself. Her sobs grew louder and Nick turned her around, letting her bury her face in his neck as he wrapped his arms around her. Holding her tightly, he sank to the floor, bringing her with him. There he rocked her gently, running a hand through her dark hair.

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An hour later and they were still sitting there. Sara's cries had finally abated, but Nick continued to hold her, taking just as much comfort from their closeness as he was giving to her. Finally, she lifted her head.

"How did you get in?"

"Your door was unlocked."

"Oh." She paused, looking down at the floor. She was painfully aware of the fact that he was still holding her, that she had broken in front of him, but at the same time, she couldn't make herself move. "Why did you come?"

Nick laughed then, and Sara thought she saw a faint blush creeping up his neck. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled something out.

"That's my pen," she observed, frowning.

"You left it in the lab."

"So?"

"So I was returning it."

"You drove all the way over here to return my pen?"

He shrugged. "I know it's your favorite."

Sara laughed then, unable to stop herself.

"You're joking, right?"

"Alright, the truth is, I wanted to check up on you. The pen was just an excuse."

"A pretty lame one."

"Hey, it was all I could think of on short notice. I was afraid you wouldn't let me in if I didn't have some kind of reason."

Her smile faded and she looked down.

"You're right. I probably wouldn't have."

"Why?"

She shrugged then, looking uncomfortable. "I don't…I don't do this stuff, Nick. I don't cry in front of other people."

"Why?"

Sighing, she glared at him.

"You're infuriating."

"And that's why you won't let people see you cry? That's a silly reason."

She disentangled herself from him, getting to her feet. His face fell as he felt her defenses go back up, the walls rebuilt. But then she reached down a hand to him.

"Come on," she said quietly. "Let's order some food."

He let her help him up, eyeing her warily. She saw his look and rolled her eyes.

"Just because I don't want to cry…it doesn't mean I didn't need to." She reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thanks." Then she looked down and took her pen from his hand. "And thanks for this, too. It is my favorite pen."

Nick just stared after her as she walked toward the kitchen. She might have rebuilt her walls, but he was pretty sure he had just found a chink in her armor.