I don't own the characters, I just play with 'em.
Sara lives the MK kidnapping, but not without sacrifice. Review, people!
She was curled up in the fetal position on Grissom's bed. The white cotton sheets laid haphazardly at her feet.
Grissom had picked her up from the hospital that afternoon after her two week long stay in Desert Springs Hospital.
He had barely been allowed to visit her while she was in the ICU. Risk of infection getting in was too high. Selfishly, he would have taken that risk if it meant he could have been by her side.
Now, he sat at the end of his bed watching over her, making up for the visits he was denied.
"Are you thirsty, Sara?" Grissom asked. He climbed down from the bed and sat on the floor below her head.
"No." She spoke without emotion now. Her face was blank.
"I can make you some soup, if you'd like."
She didn't answer, so he decided to take that as a yes. Getting up from the floor, he ambled his way to his kitchen to scrounge up some vegetable noodle, careful to make as little noise as possible just in case Sara was to call for him.
He doubted she would though. She didn't speak much anymore.
A priest had asked him once why he had lost his faith.
There was no god. Grissom was sure of this now.
What kind of god would make a young child's own home a living hell?
If he did exist, why would he let a little girl witness the death of her father by her own mother's hand?
Why would he torment the woman with abusive relationships, explosions and institutionalized maniacs?
If this god was so damn merciful, why would he let the very same woman be buried under a car, drowning in the rain and her own blood?
It was too much for any one person to take.
Snapping back into reality, Grissom removed the pot off the stove and poured Sara half a cup full of steaming soup.
He made his way back to his bedroom, stopping just outside the door. He had seen her wounds many times, yet he still needed a few moments to prepare himself before facing her. It wasn't as though he was disgusted to look at her.
God no. That could never happen.
He stepped quietly into the room and kneeled by her head again, cup in hand.
Taking a deep breath he cataloged every cut, bruise and scrape in his mind, each injury ripping a hole in his chest.
Her upper lip was swollen, making her lips look disproportionate to her face.
The whites of her eyes had turned pink, and her left lid was almost too thick to open. Deep bruises started half an inch below her hairline and continued far onto her scalp, making it painful to even comb her hair. Cuts and bruises cluttered her body from head to toe. Her body was in such a broken state that if Grissom didn't know better, he might have believed the car accident was real.
He could feel his eyes fill up with tears.
This wasn't just another Miniature Killer victim. This was his Sara.
Natalie had taken away his strong and powerful woman, and left behind a broken little girl.
His tears came freely now. Closing his eyes, he leaned his again against the side of the bed.
He needed to be close to her. He needed to feel her.
He felt a slim finger brush the teardrops from under his eye. Opening his eyes, he saw Sara's large brown ones staring back at him.
Review and tell me how it is. Next chapter will have more dialogue.