Hey guys, Once again I am blowing dust off of old stories. I know I have a lot of WIPs, but the more variety I have the better I feel! I found that if I have just one story to work on , then I get depressed. So, I am branching out. This is my old story , 'Followed'. I reread and thought 'Jesus … this needs a reboot'. This is told from Sara's point of view.

~8~

Nights were a mother's time to relax, or that was what I used to think. My name is Sara Grissom. I am married to a world renowned entomologist, Gil Grissom. We live in Las Vegas and we have a toddler named Emily. I used to work alongside my husband at the Las Vegas Crime Lab, but after I became pregnant I decided to raise our daughter. It was one of the biggest sacrifices of my life, but it was worth it. I am now able to experience a happier part of my life, one that had been missing or that I had never seen before.

After I laid my daughter to sleep for the night, I would see Gil off to work and then begin my routine. It begin with a mug of tea and an hour of television. Then I would read a chapter out of my book. And Finally I would lock up and head for a shower. We had a dog, a boxer named Hank, who would, at that time, settle down on his oversized plush dog bed and go to sleep.

My life had been so predictable, up until that night.

My shower was exhilarating, that much I remember. I felt the stressors of my day wash down the drain and I imagined the passionate morning I had had with my husband. He was quite the skilled lover if he was able to keep memories alive in my head for this long.

At that moment, I heard a loud crash come from the direction of the living room. I swore under my breath, positive that it had been Hank. He had a knack for jumping up onto the table if he smelled the slightest scent of leftovers.

I quickly shut off the water, knowing that I needed to hurry before Emily woke up; unless she had already. I didn't know, at that time, how my night was going to turn out. In the back of my mind, I keep turning scenarios over in my mind. If I had done something different, just one little thing, then this would never had had happened to me. I wouldn't be telling you this story either.

I strode quickly into the front of the house, we had carpet so my steps were muffled, but Hank was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't on the table, nor in his bed. His barking caused me to turn and that was when I noticed that someone had let him into the back yard.

"Hank?" I said, walking to let him back in.

A hand gripped my wrist. "Don't move," a gruff voice said as his hand came down over my mouth.

~8~

After he was through, I am not too sure I want to relive the details again, he left. He didn't stop to go through our things, he didn't go back towards Emily's room, thank God, but that didn't mean that he didn't steal something that night. He had assaulted me… raped me. I didn't know who he was or what he wanted.

Everything was sore; he had gotten a few hard punches in as I struggled. I touched my hand to my mouth and pulled back a palmful of blood. I grabbed a towel from off the counter, unaware that I was sobbing, I wiped my mouth and ran my tongue over my teeth; one was loose. I didn't want to touch the place between my legs, it felt like it was on fire and I didn't know what I would tell Gil. I knew I had to, but somehow I felt shame. I felt like I had let this happen to me.

I grouped for my phone and was greeted by the image of Gil holding Emily on his shoulders. I had taken that picture only a few days ago. I had been so unaware that this would happen to me. I dialed Gil's number and waited for the call to connect. For some reason the thought of telling him what had just happened to me seemed unbearable.

"Hey," his happy voice said when the phones connected. "How is your night going?"

I didn't say anything; I just froze. I heard people talking in the background as he waited for a response. I heard the distant voices of Catherine and Greg; my old friends. I wanted so badly to forget it, hang up, and move on. Telling someone wouldn't solve anything, but I knew that that wasn't true.

"Honey?" he asked, his voice lower.

I took a deep breath and pressed the dishcloth to a gash under my eye. "Gil," I choked out. "I need you… to come home."

I was still unaware of how much I was sobbing, I would learn that later when I started to recall details. For now I wanted, no I needed, him to come home. I needed him to hold me and tell me what was happening. I have been on the reverse side of this coin before, and I never thought I would be.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his happy tone had vanished. "Is it Emily? Tell me."

"No," I choked out. "She's alright. Gil, someone… broke into our home."

"Okay," Gil said. "I'm on my way home. Stay on the phone with me. Is he gone?"

I nodded. "Yes, he's gone."

I felt weak. I wasn't usually this shakable. I had always prided myself on being firm and rock-like; never scared of anything. Until this happened. From this point on, I began to doubt myself. I began to question who I was and if I had deserved what I got. I felt as if someone had stood over me in a conquering way.

I knew Gil was on his way, he changed the subject to Emily and the new things she was learning. I listened, appreciating the way he was trying to distract me, but I wondered if he knew what had happened. When I think back on it, I think he may have. He never really told me, but I assume he had an idea. After all; he knew who was responsible.

~8~

When Gil came home, he had to use his key. It is funny to think that a man who breaks into your home and rapes you is polite enough to lock the door behind him. He called my name, but I wasn't really listening. My back hurt, my legs hurt, and I wanted to vomit.

He found me in the kitchen, laying curled with my back to the wall. He flipped on the overhead light and I squinted into the brightness. When I saw his face, I knew then that someone was there to take care of me and that I had a right to withdraw temporarily. That was how I chose to handle the situation at the time; I withdrew.

"Sara," Gil soothed to me as he lifted my head up to look at me. "I called an ambulance."

"You did?" I remember thinking.

"Did he?" Gil asked.

I looked away from him, unsure of how to answer. Do I admit to letting a man assault me? My body was, and is, only meant for one man. How can I tell my husband that someone else had been there?

"Hey," he said, pushing my hair behind my ear. "This isn't your fault. Can you stand?"

I shook my head. I didn't even need to try and stand; I knew that my legs were exhausted. They were still shaking.

~8~

I am not too sure how much time it too for the ambulance to arrive; everything around was dream-like. Gil had gone back into Emily's room and had dressed her. He came out with her in his arms and he let me hold her. She was still drowsy from sleep and wined at the amount of noise in the room.

"Shhh," Gil said as he lifted her back up.

"Where…?" I said.

"Mom can take her," Gil replied. "I called the school and they said she'd be waiting for her. Catherine will take her over; I'm not leaving you."

I nodded and let the paramedics secure me to the stretcher. I didn't want to be wheeled out like an invalid, but what choice did I have; I could barely walk.

As they wheeled me out of my home, I closed my eyes. I heard Catherine say something to Gil in passing and I imagine that Emily had been passed over to her. I didn't want my baby to be with Gil's mom, I wanted to be in my bed, I wanted all of this to vanish.

~8~

At the hospital I had an SAE kit done and it was collected by one of my co-workers, I don't know who and I didn't ask. I turned to my side and mentally documented my injuries: stitched-up laceration on face, multiple bruises, broken rib, and a hairline fracture on my pelvis. I was a mess.

Gil had stayed with me through everything. He updated me about Emily, who was now asleep in the little bed her grandmother had bought and kept at her house.

"Are you hungry?" he asked me, brushing a thumb over the gash on my face.

I shook my head. The thought of eating anything made me sick. I wanted to go home and scrub the kitchen, erasing any evidence that he had been in my home. My kitchen was now a small crime scene, being worked by day-shift.

"When can we go home?" I asked him.

Gil gave me a kiss. "They want you to stay here for a little while," he said to me. "just rest."

He stayed by me until I fell asleep, but my last waking thought was of him squeezing my hand and kissing it ever so lovingly. The look in his eyes reflected rage and sadness.

~8~

After Sara had drifted off to sleep, Gil stepped out into the waiting room to speak to Brass. His friend was sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs, sipping coffee from a styrofoam cup.

"Did Ecklie send day-shift out?" he asked.

"Yeah," Brass answered. "Gil, this could just be a coincidence."

Gil shook his head. "It was him, Jim," he said. "I know it."

For the past few months, Gil had been on the heels of a serial rapist and murderer name Ronald Bezkin. He had finally gathered enough evidence and the D.A agreed to prosecute. Bezkin knew who he was and he threatened Gil before he was taken into custody. However, somewhere down the line someone broke the chain of custody. Under 'The Fruit of the Poisonous Tree Doctrine' all of evidence was deemed inadmissible.

"I'm not leaving my family alone until we catch him," Gil said. "I don't care how we get him, just get him."

~8~

A/M: Time for me to call it a night. I have a life to live tomorrow; wish i didn't. Love you all. Good night, and, like always, good night. REVIEW :)