Title:Blood and Tears

Author:Jackie Eppinger

Rating:M

Disclaimer:I am in no way affiliated with CBS or CSI

Summary:Sara has dificulties dealing with life after an assault.

Critisim is encouraged.

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She didn't know how it could have happened.

Sara was sitting on the tile floor of her shower, silently clutching her legs with a glazed expression upon her face. The shower water massaged her sore back until she couldn't feel the harsh spray. Her short, dark hair was flailed out all over her face and neck, the damp strands clinging to pale skin. Water dripped from a few straying hairs down her chest; the nearly dry, hidden skin prickled at the sensation of warmth but Sara didn't notice nor did she want to. She felt so numb; both outside and in.

In her kitchen, her silver kit lay open on the granite island counter-top. Multiple tan paper evidence bags lay plainly out, neatly contrasting the dark surface. Swabs and other containers sat nearby. Sara didn't want to remember the contents or the collection of this particular "case".

Sara's grip increased on her legs, her nails digging into the delicate, pale surface. She wanted to squeeze herself in the smallest space possible, hoping that she would somehow disappear all together, along with the nonexistent feelings she felt that she knew she should have. She needed to feel something. She bit her lip as pain finally filled her legs. Her grip loosened. She didn't dare look at the marks and just numbly watched as red-tinted water flow down the drain of the shower. After it diluted to its normal clearness, Sara looked away from the water and loosely clung on to her legs, staring off past the glass containing her in the shower.

Time passed faster then she hoped it would. An alarm went off in the next room, signaling it being time for her regular, sleeping self to wake up. But Sara wasn't her regular self. She didn't need waking; she desperately wanted to sleep for the next 3 weeks. She let out a sigh and knew that she should get out of the shower before she became a fish. She turned off the shower and wobbly stood up, resembling a newborn deer trying to gain a steady balance. Sara didn't know how long she was in the shower for but all she knew was she didn't feel clean.

Once she felt that she legs were sturdy enough again to walk on, Sara stepped out of the shower. Leaning against the counter, she stared at the fogged mirror at a clouded, pale shape. Her eyes narrowed and she scoffed before turning away to look at the wall absently. Normally, she would have wiped at least a portion of the mirror clean to look at her face but didn't want to see her deep brown eyes or her pretty features; she was too disgusted with herself. She scowled and pulled a neatly folded lavender towel from one of the white shelves in the wall and wrapped it around her slight waist before walking out into her bedroom.

Sara blindly walked over to her closet and opened it. Staring absent-mindedly at her plain selection, she pulled out a dark shirt and pants and threw them down onto the corner of her bed. She sighed and slowly walked over toward the dresser in front of her bed. While rummaging through the drawers, she happened to look up at the large mirror on the wall above it and jumped. She did a double take and gasped when she realized what she saw. Her eyes started to fill at the frightening sight she saw before her. No matter how many times in the past she'd tried to deny it time and time again, the mirror didn't—couldn't lie.

Sara sat at a bar, staring disinterestedly at the almost full glass next to her. A pretty blonde sat next to her chatting away happily to the bartender, but the brunette beside her was ready to leave. She'd been trying to cut down on her alcohol intake lately and she was very distant even though she appreciated and accepted Catherine's offer.

"Hey Cath?" she guiltily interrupted. Her co-worker turned to face her while the bartender tended to three men nearby. "I think I going to go now. I'm sorry." Catherine smiled.

"Its no big deal. I'll see you at work later then?" She flashed a smile and Sara returned it with her own before paying and leaving quickly.

Sara felt relived to get out of the crowded and stuffy bar and took a deep breath of fresh air. After a few moments of relaxing herself, she started toward her car, digging through her purse for her keys quietly. She didn't notice the two tall men watching her nearby. They glanced at one another and nodded before exchanging sick smirks.

Sara unlocked the door of her SUV and opened it before feeling a sharp force grab her upper arms and forcefully pull her back. She instinctively elbowed the force to distract him while she reached for her gun. She gripped in her hands but it was knocked onto the pavement in one swift smack of a hand Her heart raced and she squirmed. As she struggled to get away she felt the grip on her upper arms increase. Angry surged inside of her and she growled. In a desperate attempt to escape, she pulled up and pushed both of her feet against body of her Denali and forced her attacker against the neighboring car. The grip loosened and she pulled free, but a second set of hands caught her and forced her up against her own car. While her face was pressed against the glass, the man binded her wrists together tightly and caused her to find her voice and cry out. Before it could reach a considerable volume, she was yanked backwards and a thick cloth was forced into her mouth. Sara tried to cough it out but the man tied another strip of white around her mouth before she could. The backseat door was swiftly unlocked, opened and she was pushed violently onto the seat on her stomach.

Sara felt dizzy as her feet were tied. The door slammed on her feet, causing her to wince and cry out silently into the gag. The car was turned on and it pulled out of the parking lot in a quick movement. Her head was spinning and she could swear that her heart was about to bust out of her chest it was beating so fast. What's going to happen to me? She was consumed with the thought that she would end up like a murder-rape victim found in an ally or at a motel or even in the middle of nowhere.. She imagined her team—her friends finding her. She could see Nick and Greg crying next to her dead body, Catherine and Warrick staring in disbelief and Grissom staring expressionless.

Grissom. Her eyes filled at the thought of him. What if she never saw him again? What if she never got to tell him that she loved him? Oh God. Hot tears fell down her cheeks and down her neck. She whined, unable to make any other noise.

"Shut up!" A sharp pain filled her thigh as she felt it being smacked. She bit the gag to keep from making any more sounds and cried in silence. Nausea consumed her after a few minutes and she lay as still as she could, her hope that all of her pain would just go away. It didn't.

Sara's hands flew to her mouth and tears fell down her cheeks as she frantically shook her head, unable to believe what she saw. She closed her eyes and opened them slowly, hoping she wasn't seeing right. But what she saw was something she has hoped she'd imagined, something she wanted to have been a simple nightmare. She had underestimated her eyes; she could see very clearly. Sara's upper arms, waist and breasts were covered in blotchy purple-green bruises, each in the very noticeable shape of a hand. She couldn't stand it. She quickly turned away as she felt bile rise in her throat and heaved onto the carpet. She fell to her the light colored carpet moments later, sobbing uncontrollably, clutching her legs and passing out moments later from exhaustion and inner pain.

A sudden jerk caused Sara's head to collide with the seat and door suddenly. She winced and bit into the gag. A slight, cool night breeze and slamming of car doors told her that they'd arrived at their destination. Sara felt her body tense up as the door nearest her feet opened. She jammed her eyes closed and tightened her hands into fists to keep from screaming when she felt a pair of thick hands grasp her ankles. Her skin burned as she was forcefully pulled from the leather seats and snatched by the waist. Her spinning head told her to find out where she was but nothing she saw processed. It was as if she was watching a bad movie; you watched it but you couldn't even remember what had happened seconds before.

She heard a click, a low buzz and the sound of a turning doorknob. It confirmed her estimation. 'A motel. Fantastic.' Her eyes continued to scan the area, aimlessly getting no results. 'Dammit. Sara, you're an idiot. How the fuck could you let this happen to you?' As her heart continued to pound in her ribcage, she silently beat herself up inside. After listening to her shallow breaths, she tried to calm herself as much as she could. "Deep breath in, slow breath out. In. Out. In. Out."

Her head came in contact with the door harshly, forcing her to cry out. The muffled cry was loud enough to be heard by her captor, unfortunately. A hug pain in her ass caused her to widen her eyes in surprise. The smacked skin continued to sting after she was thrown onto the large bed with a slight bounce. Sara rolled over to try and get off the bed but was instantly grabbed by both men; one by her ankles and the other by her wrists. Together they both rolled her back onto her stomach before untying her arms and legs just to retie them back onto the bedposts. Sara's breath swallowed and her heart to nearly burst her chest

She lay there for a little while struggling to hear the mumbled conversation behind her. She heard words like "first", "hold", "bottle". Sara felt nausea come upon her as well as fierce breaths against her gag. Her head was spining and heart racing. She reconized this feeling. She was on the brink of a panic attack.

Sara blinked her eyes open to find herself on the floor. Confuzed, she slowly lifted herself up, noting her cold body's need for clothing. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself up from the floor and stood on unsteady legs. Opening her dresser drawers, she hastily pulled out some undergarments. After putting on the panties, she proceeded to putting on her matching bra but looked up. A slight gasp escaped her lips. It wasn't a dream. It really had happened. Purple-blotched skin surrounded her upper arms and breast. Her eyes were puffy and were starting to water once again.

The bruises on her breast resembled hands. She touched them lightly with her fingertips and let out a slight cry. Oh God…Sara, what did you do?

Sara bit down tightly on her gag. If she had a panic attack, she knew they would most likely hurt her or even kill her. She imagined that she was asleep, her love holding her close, kissing away any sorrow or any pain in her troubled heart. Still fast... His arms wrapped around her, her arms around him in a tight embrace; in a world where there was a Sara and Grissom. There. It's slowed. Now to plan how to—

Silent scream.

Something was on top of her. Someone. She felt cold hands reach under her and start unbuttoning her shirt. Instinctively, she started squirming and moving around and tried as much as she could to make his job harder but because of his weight, it was difficult to move even a little bit. Her head sank and she lay still while he pulled her shirt up on her shoulders and arms. Sara bit harder in the gab once she felt the large hands unclasp her bra and move it up with the shirt. She arched her back after feeling hands give her private chest a quick squeeze before moving down to her jeans.

Sara couldn't stand it. She blocked it out. She gripped her hands on the poles as tight as she could to distract herself from the violation. She welcomed the pain in her hands and focused on that pain alone. While looking at her hands, she noticed the rope was very worn and old. It could easily be broken with something with a blade. She wished she could reach something sharp, maybe a—

Silent scream.

Her jeans and panties rested at her ankles, both slightly torn not so they would slide down that far. But what made Sara jump were the hands that rested on her ass. God, no. A sudden shift in weight surprised her. He was getting…off? Thank goodness! But it didn't last. The next load was much lighter but just as strong. He pushed himself down on her back, his hot breath on her ear and cheek while his face rested in her hair.

"This'll only hurt for a second." She widened and immediately squeezed her eyes shut as quickly as she could. Barely a second later, in one harsh movement, he entered her. Sara screamed and continued to scream her unheard cry. She only stopped many minutes later when she felt a sharp tug of her ponytail cause her to arch her back and neck unwelcome and unexpectedly. He was pulling on it and using it for leverage and just sheer joy of her pain. As he moved inside her, Sara felt a loss. She was brought back to the time of her childhood. Something had been gained all of those years since then and now it was lost.

Fear. She had regained fear.

Sara carefully put on her bra, careful not to hurt the soreness it held. Slowly, she almost tiptoed back over to the clothes she picked out on her light-colored bed. Long pants and long sleeve button down blouse with a simple tank. Good. She was well covered. No one at work would see her true appearance. Work. Sara broke even further at that point. She'd have to deal with the problems of others even while dealing with her own tragedy and inner war.

Sara's eyebrows scrunched together as she thought of her selfishness. Those people couldn't defend themselves now. These people couldn't just deal with it like she knew she could. She knew she could just deal with this and there were other people that couldn't. Why should someone investigate her assault when their time and energy could be better spent on someone who really needed it. Sara knew she could deal…she had to when she was 13 so why couldn't she now? That was that. She would just have to deal with it.

Sara had grown numb after the first assault. She continued to try and fight but she lost each time. The men had switched now and this one had a firm hold on her breasts causing tears to roll down her light colored cheeks. Suddenly, the huge weight was lifted and she was free. She let out a few shallow breaths and tried to rest her throbbing body. Her head sank on the bed and she let out a sob. She lay still for a moment. After a low murmur was heard behind her, Sara bit her tongue and strained to hear.

"What now?"

"I dunno. If we let 'er go, I bet she'd call the cops, yo. Those freaks will lock us up for sure."

"I have an idea. We have some extra rope… we could…" The voices faded as the men walked in the bathroom to talk without their prisoner's ear.

Sara surveyed the ropes on her wrists. Fighting had loosened them slightly. If they are twisted a certain way they might just come looser or maybe even undone… Once I undo one, I can untie the rest. Rope burned her skin as she turned and twisted her right wrist and arm. After a minute, she tugged and it came undone. Yes!

She quickly untied her other hand and messily fixed her clothing before untying her feet. The jeans were torn and falling but Sara didn't care; she needed to escape. Her heart jumped as she looked out the window. Her dark Denali was sitting just outside, waiting. The idiots probably left the keys inside. She just had to walk out the door and just drive away.

A clatter made her startle and turn to notice the door to the bathroom. Shadows under the door told her they'd be out in a moment. Sara scanned the current 2foot radius around her before reaching for a lamp from the side table and held it up, ready for a fight.

Sara slowly put on her clothing. She had to leave soon but she was too tired to be quick about it; it wasn't a crime be late for being early. Looking in the mirror, she winced at the image before her. Her face was very red and puffy; obvious that she had been fighting an inner battle whether or not to cry. She'd gotten the tears to stop for now and hoped it would last. Brushing her hair, she calmly relaxed herself into losing the thought of crying as an option.

Looking down, she noted her makeup, neatly spread out on the dresser along side her jewelry and sunglasses. Huh. A layer of foundation could probably hide the redness… and some eye makeup and big sunglasses could probably hide puffy and watery eyes... Sara put on a simple necklace for good measure. Carefully, Sara covered her cheeks with the liquid makeup and light veil, making sure no unusual redness was see-able, and successfully hid her eyes with purple eye shadow, dark eyeliner and large, black sunglasses, which she perched neatly on her head for the time being. Sigh. Time to go.

Sara walked into her kitchen and closed her kit before pulling on her jacket and snagging a granola bar to chew on in the car. Pulling out her keys from the purse resting on her shoulder, she walking out the door and locked it before walking out to the parking lot and then getting into her Denali and driving out of the lot.

Silently on the island, the evidence she had taken of her rape lay unnoticed and forgotten.

The men came out barely moments later, as Sara had predicted. Not giving them anytime to react to her being free, she threw the think lamp at the larger one's head. The hard, ceramic base hit him square in the forehead, causing him to fall to the floor with a thud, blood trickling down onto the carpet. The second man was very surprised and hesitated before lunging after her. But she was ready. She held her ground as he quickly came at her. As he approached, Sara reeled back her arm and her fist meet his face full on. Distracted, he bent his head down, allowing Sara enough time to give him a sharp kick in the stomach. When he fell to the ground, yelling in pain, Sara took the chance to run to the door and bolt out of the room. Her dark green SUV sat patiently waiting for her outside in the parking lot and she ran to it. Rapidly punching in the code to the side door, she noted it was already open and quickly got in. Sara's eyes saw a movement in the doorway to the motel room and turned on her car without hesitation. She accelerated out of the parking lot, noticing with horror that the smaller man was standing in the doorway, watching her leave.

Sara drove for half and hour, haunted by the look of the man in her rear-view mirror. She was fearful that he would somehow find or follow her home. After a while, she noted no car following her and decided after a few more minutes, it would be safe to go back to her apartment.

The building seemed unwelcoming as she silently pulled up into the parking lot. She blindly found her spot, parked and cried.