TITLE: The Monsters We Battle

AUTHOR: MaryAnn Phillippe

RATING: PG-13

PAIRING: Grissom/Sara

CATEGORY: Drama/Angst/Romance (eventually)

FEEDBACK: This is my first time.so be gentle

SPOILERS: Post "Butterflied"

SUMMARY: A cult killing.a painting .G/S romance (eventually). Don't want to
spoil anything.

DISCLAIMER: They don't belong to me; take them out to play.YADA, YADA!

AUTHORS NOTE: Gigantic thanks to my husband for kicking me in the butt and telling me it was about time I put my ideas down on paper, and to C.French (a co-worker) who loves to tell me that I am obsessed with Grissom and Sara, and of course my Betas Anne and Ash. Thanks you two. And Wynonna for the song "Heaven Help Me." (you'll understand in later chapters).

The Monsters We Battle
By: EyerishEyes (MaryAnn Phillippe)

Well, at least now she knew.

Sara Sidle stood in front of the one-way glass, arms crossed over her chest as if hugging herself, and looked at the one man she could ever love, the only man she could and would ever love. Gil Grissom.

Young and beautiful.care about.I couldn't do it.

Why? Why couldn't he do it. What was so wrong with her, anyway? He had once told her she was beautiful, in a round about sort of way. She had thought that there was something between them, something more than the years of friendship and trust. On her part, there was. She had looked forward to seeing him every evening, working along side him, testing his knowledge against her own.anything that meant she spend time with him. Anything that gave her an excuse to receive a "Grissom" smile or nod or wink. She relished those moments and tucked them away in her memory for later, times when he wasn't there.

And lately those times were more and more frequent. When had it changed into a strictly "working relationship"? She didn't know when it had changed, only that it had. She hardly got paired with him on assignments anymore and needless to say, there was absolutely no more of the innocent flirting that they had been so good at. He didn't smile at her anymore, let alone talk. He hadn't even asked her how she was, following the explosion. But then again, neither had anyone else.

She knew that the rest of the graveyard shift disliked her, maybe with the exception of Nick. Nick had been her best friend, her brother in spirit. And she knew that Nick had looked upon her as a little sister, having five older ones back home in Texas.

But brothers often hated little sisters, even though they were family. And Nick had no blood ties to her. Lately he had been distant. He rarely called, except when they were working on a case, and he hadn't teased her and he wasn't talking to her like they had before.

And Warrick certainly had no reason to like her. She had been called in from San Francisco to investigate him. He still carried some animosity towards her, even after 3 years, and she didn't fault him for that, but she thought that they had worked towards a guarded toleration of each other. He had invited her to clubs where he was deejaying.but now those invitations didn't come anymore. Not like before.

And she knew for a fact that Catherine thought nothing of her. Hell, she had virtually accused Sara of Eddie's death. She had told Sara that it was only because of Grissom that she was there and that she was basically useless as a CSI. "No Catherine, tell us how you really feel." She probably felt as though Sara was honing in on her territory. Everyone always said that females were territorial. And, maybe, Catherine had latent feelings for Grissom and looked at Sara as a threat. Whatever the reason, it wasn't as though they had ever been overly friendly and schedule lunch dates and shopping sprees. At least Catherine had been semi-civil, before.

Before the explosion and before she had pulled her gun on a suspect. Maybe they had finally realized how unstable she had become. The explosion had affected her more than she liked to admit, leaving her emotionally drained and mentally tired. She hadn't slept more than an hour or two each night and hadn't really been able to eat since. Her eyes had developed those dark circles that were associated with sleep deprivation and her skin was the same ghostly pallor as the bodies she saw in the morgue. She was sure that some psychologist or psychiatrist would diagnosis her as clinically depressed or with post traumatic stress syndrome, but, dammit, she had a right to be. Sorry if she had let something like almost getting killed wreck everyone's good time.

What Sara didn't realize is was how wrong she really was.

Nick, Warrick and Catherine were dealing with the explosion in their own ways, but they were just as concerned with Sara as they had always been. Maybe even more. She wasn't just a co-worker or a friend. She was family.

"Sara?"

Catherine Willows, the only other female on the graveyard shift, called out to Sara. She walked up beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She was worried about her. "God," she thought to herself, "she looks rough. She hasn't been sleeping and she sure hasn't been eating."

Sara turned with a start, jerking her shoulder out from under the comforting hand. "You could at least tell someone when you're going to sneak up on them," she snapped and turned back towards the one-way glass.

But not before Catherine had seen the tear streaks that marred her face. She let her eyes follow Sara's gaze and saw what made her friend cry. Grissom. As much as she wanted to shake some sense into the both of them, Catherine knew that this was neither the time nor the place. "I did, but apparently you didn't hear me. Everything okay?"

Sara turned to look at her, not knowing what to say. Did she tell Catherine the truth or lie. She would lie.

"Yeah, I, um.I have some work I have to do." She turned and walked away, hurrying along the sterile glass and fluorescent hallway.

Catherine watched as she scurried away, looking as though she couldn't walk fast enough and silently cursed the man that sat in the next room.

He felt defeated.

This case had bothered him, he was reluctant to admit. Seeing that body there, looking so much like Sara. It had shaken him to the core and had made him reexamine feelings he thought he had been successful in pushing away.

He didn't know what to this, this attraction he felt for her, this need. He hadn't felt this way in a long time and it scared him, to say the least. He had tried to rationalize it, saying that she was just infatuated with him, that it was just a crush. He tried to push her away, tried to get her to think about other things, other people. And as much as it hurt him, he wanted her to be happy, even though he thought that that happiness would come with someone else. It was just that every time he thought of her, his heart ached and his pulse increased and his breathing became labored. He had it bad.worse than bad.he was long gone. He knew that and it scared the living daylights out of him, so, he began building walls. Besides, she deserved so much better than he could give.

What did he say to her? Maybe that was why he hadn't talked to her lately. Why he had paired himself with anyone but her. He just didn't know what to say, or how to say it. His people skills left a lot to be desired. He just didn't understand the human race all that much. Bugs, he knew. Bugs were predictable, bugs were easy, bugs were safe. People were.well, they weren't any of those. People were just plain scary. Maybe that was why he spent so much time with his bugs and not that much with the people that worked with him. True, he did occasionally have breakfast with the crew, very occasionally, but he did interact. He didn't spend every non-working hour holed up in his townhouse working genius level crossword puzzles and watching the Discovery Channel like Catherine had once accused him of.

And Sara certainly wasn't Catherine. Catherine, he could talk to. Catherine didn't intimidate him, didn't make him feel like he was sixteen all over again. Sara on the other hand.she made him feel.well, she just made him feel.

"Grissom?"

He didn't budge.

"Grissom?"

James Brass stood just in the corner of the interrogation room, watching the man he called friend. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Grissom never admitted to anything close to emotions to anyone, and especially not to a suspect.

"You okay?" Grissom looked like a disaster victim, starring out into space and not connecting with what was going on around him.

"Grissom, you okay?" Brass asked again.

His mind played and replayed the interrogation; he didn't hear Brass asking if he was okay. Hell, he didn't hear anything. He had just confessed to a suspect that he "cared about" someone. And Brass was a good enough detective to understand the underlying meaning in his words, and who that someone was.

Brass waved his hand in front of Grissom's face, trying to get his attention. Catherine chose that moment to walk into the room. Brass looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what to do, seeing his friend like this wasn't good.

"Hey Jim, everything going okay?" Catherine asked.

Jim turned to her and shook his head slowly. No. He nodded his head towards Grissom.

Catherine looked at her supervisor and saw what he meant for herself. Grissom was a broken man and that hurt her, just as much as it hurt Brass. She needed to make him realize what he was doing to himself and to Sara.

"Hey, you, wake up in there," she waved her hand in front of Grissom's face.

That was enough to make him pull himself out to his self-imposed hole of despair. "What?" Grissom looked up at her and wondered just how much she knew. Knowing Catherine, she knew everything and would let him talk to her in his own time. They were good friends that way, knowing when to talk to one another and when to leave one another alone.

"Just wondering if you were okay?"

"I'm fine, why is everyone asking me that?"

"Okay, sorry, just don't bit my head off.you just looked like you were miles from here, that's all."

"It just makes me mad when we know that guy is guilty and we can't touch him."

"Is that all? Sara looked a little rattled, too."

"Sara?"

"Yeah, saw her outside the room. I guess she got freaked out when she was printing the girl. Said she hadn't seen her face, but if you ask me, she did. Scared her."

"She did look an awful lot like Sara, didn't she?" Brass said.

"Yeah, freaked me out too, the first time I saw her. I'm just glad that you had the peace of mind to keep Sara away from the crime scene, Gris. Imagine Sara seeing her doppelganger in that shower." Not that it was better than a morgue slab.

"Huh? You said you saw Sara outside the room. When?"

"Few minutes ago. Why?"

Grissom let the professional mask fall over his face.she had heard. What did he do now? She knew, she had to. And she now knew that he had been pushing her away, not wanting her close because he didn't know what to do about this, whatever this was.

"No reason. We're finished here. I'll be in my office, if anyone wants me. Catherine, I'll see you tonight." Grissom lifted himself out of the chair and walked out of the room, leaving Brass and Catherine to just look at each other.

Catherine decided that she would do something and she would do it tonight.

TBC