Disclaimer: see chapter one.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing, you have no idea how much I appreciate every one I get.

Special thanks to my betas Bellabrew and Mrose. I know you have a life outside of literature that's why I appreciate thatyou take so much time and effortto read and edit my story.

Final note: This is set prior to GSR becomingcanonI probably should have told you that before, but that would have spoiled all my fun.

Also all of the CSI characters are represented here, and a few new ones. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 4

Hey now all you killers, put your lights on

Hey now all you children, leave your lights on

(Everlast – Whitey Ford sings the blues)

Desert Palms Hospital

Aug 22, 2006

3:30 pm

Sara awoke for the third time acutely aware of the fact that there was someone pressed up against her. His strong firm hand rested protectively across her stomach and she could feel his warm breath on the side of her face. For a moment she wondered if it was all just a dream, maybe a terrifying nightmare had pulled her in and had yet to release her. Perhaps, she and Luke were still curled on the couch at his place after a morning of fervent sex. Maybe, the last three days had never happened. She lay there for a moment allowing herself to contemplate this.

But this man felt different. His proportions were all wrong. Luke was tall, lean and extremely muscular. Fitness was one ofhis passions. He loved to work out, hike and swim... He had always done everything with an untiring amount of energy - especially in bed.

The man beside her had never been caught up in the physical. Not, that he wasn't in good shape, or that he was neglectful of his appearance, just that it had never been his focus. He'd always invested himself in more academic and intellectual pursuits. He had a gentleness and compassion about him that Luke Denton had never possessed. They were, in all honesty, as different as two people could get.

Luke was the epitome of a "go-for-it" type. He did what he wanted, said how he felt, and couldn't give a damn if anyone disagreed. Outspoken and forthright, he was what most people would describe as being a typical man's man. He'd make a decision and chase it with the commitment of a priest, and the passion of a besotted lover; his confidence never wavering, and his emotions held high for all to see. He was friendly and popular and could play the Pied Piper to a T.

Grissom, on the other hand had a tendency to be decisive and confident only on the job, or when in teacher mode, since this was the arena where he knew few could compete with him on any level. Outside of work, where his private life was concerned he was essentially shy, guarded, and reticent when it came to his heart and soul. He did have a brilliant sense of humor, but it had been a while since Sara had been privy to it, or any emotion other than those considered a necessary part of his work demeanor. Occasionally, she would catch a glimpse of the man she had fallen for, so long ago, back in San Francisco, but those times were few and far between. She knew that his fear led him to this and that it was his way of keeping her at arms length. It was a tactic which over the past few years had been very successful. Perhaps too successful, this is why she'd finally sought solace in the arms of another.

Sara had been drifting emotionally when Luke Denton first arrived in Las Vegas. Already a professor in high standing at both UCLA and USC, he had made an almost unheard of decision three years earlier and had left the life of academia behind. He'd chosen to make a career change; one that was still science related, but infinitely more challenging than what he'd been doing in the classroom. Incredibly skilled he'd shot from a CSI level one to assistant supervisor in such an incredibly short time.

That was how he'd ended up in Vegas on an exchange program from the LAPD. Back home he was in line for a supervisory position and was sent by his department to expand his knowledge base by shadowing the Las Vegas CSIs for the last 7 months, as a training exercise.

Typical of Ecklie, he did what he thought was best for the lab by having their guest float between shifts, the extra help coming in handy wherever it was needed most. Though, Luke was considered "on call" for all three shifts, the sheer number of crimes, to available CSIs dictated that he usually ended up filling in on either swing or graveyard. The Assistant Director, never one to do anything more than was absolutely necessary, had assigned their guest to report directly to Grissom, thus adding to the graveyard supervisor's already overwhelming pile of paperwork. It was a subtle, yet effective way of making life as difficult as possible for the enigmatic entomologist.

The Lab had been told about the trainee a week before he was due to join them, but little was revealed other than where he was coming from and how long he would be staying. So the arrival of the visiting CSI hadn't been a surprise, to Sara. However, the shock of seeing his face again for the first time in 16 years had knocked the ground right out from under her. Luke had been a tenured physics professor her last year at Harvard and during that time they'd had a brief and intensely dynamic relationship.

Over time he hadn't changed much. He was still gorgeous; his dark hair and icy blue eyes had reduced most of the girls on campus to giggling piles of jelly. 16 years had only increased his attractiveness and he'd had the same affect at the lab, causing more than a little tension between him and the other overly territorial males there. All he had to do was smile and women literally melted at his feet.

For the first two months he had flirted his way through the department, paying special attention to the women who had showed him the most interest. His sexual appetite was nothing if not ravenous. Sara had kept it casual; avoiding him at all cost, and was grateful for the days that he had been called into swing. Extricating herself from their prior relationship had been difficult and their past was a history she didn't want to repeat. For more than sixty days she'd managed to heed her own advice until a brutal child rape case was her undoing.

From that point on there had been no turning back… Memories flooded her thoughts. Sara's breath caught as tears began to well up again, her hand immediately coming up to muffle her uncontrollable sobs.

Gil Grissom jumped, the movement of her hand startling him out of an exhausted slumber. His left arm was fully asleep and wedged under a head full of soft brown hair, his right rose and fell in time with Sara's hitched breathing.

He stared at her; a swarm of regrets shifting through him. This whole situation was entirely his fault, and from this point on any pain she felt could be directly traced back to him. He was at a loss for a solution, though if it had been as easy as offering himself up for crucifixion, he would have in a heart beat to save her any further agony.

Vacating the warm spot on her stomach, Grissom brought his free hand up to her face; it was hot and supple to the touch. Resting his palm on her cheek he used his thumb to brush aside her tears and then turned her towards him. Her eyes, tearful and bloodshot said it all.

"How long have I been out?" Her voice was a veritable whisper, she was unsure of how she had ended up curled up next to her boss, but emotionally she was unwilling question it.

He glanced up at the wall clock. "A little under 24 hours… You have a serious concussion."

Accepting, she gave a slight nod.

"You whacked your head." His fingers moved around to the back of her skull. There was a medium sized bandage at the base of her neck, covering patchwork of blue stitches. He fingered it slightly. "And a bullet grazed your ribs." He said waveringly. "You're very lucky…" He swallowed hard; not wanting to dwell on what would have happened had the gunman been a little more accurate.

Her dark eyes searched his face. Something in them told him that she was at war with herself over whether or not she wanted to know the details of her lover's death.

"Sara I -" He started but never got the opportunity finish, as Ecklie burst into the room, followed by the floor doctor and a young nurse.

"Gil…" The assistant director stopped, a shocked silence suspended in mid-air.

A low moan escaped Grissom, and he slowly climbed off the hospital bed and straightened out his crumpled clothes. "What is it?"

No longer speechless, Ecklie pointed to the hallway, "Clearly, we need to talk." Tension edged his words, forewarning of the encounter to come.

He started the minute Grissom stepped out into the hallway. "What do you think you are doing?" He spat out, his hand indicating the hospital room. "I know you have the hots for her, but this is pretty quick, Luke Denton's side of the bed isn't even cold yet..."

With only a few hours of hospital interrupted sleep, and fraught with the fear and knowledge that he could have lost the young woman in the other room, Grissom's self-control was at an exhausted all time low and the Assistant Director's words proved too much of a provocation. A spike of anger shot through him and within seconds he had his colleague pinned up against the wall. "I won't even dignify that with an answer… Sara is my CSI; she is both my responsibility and a friend…"

"Whoa…. Whoa…" Jim Brass spotted the trouble the minute he stepped off the elevator. He made a crazy dash for the two men and slid himself in between them, forcing Grissom to let go of Conrad Ecklie. He looked from one to another. "You two need to learn to play nice." He nodded in the direction of the nursing station and the five pairs of eyes gawking at them. "No need to air your dirty laundry in public."

Ignoring the onlookers, Grissom turned his anger on Homicide Detective. "What the hell happened out there, Jim? I've lost one CSI, and Sara could have been killed. Have you caught the guy yet?"

Ecklie interceded, jabbing a finger into the other man's chest. "He won't be talking to you about the case. It's under my purview not yours."

"Then what are you doing here. The shooter is out there somewhere..." Grissom demanded turning to watch as a doctor and nurse entered Sara's room.

"But some of my evidence is in there." He threw a thumb towards the door. "And whether you like it or not; your CSI Sidle is the primary witness in a fatal shooting. She has some questions to answer." Ecklie made his way to the door, and entered.

Grissom wheeled on his friend. "What happened at that house?"

Jim Brass shook his head. "He's right. You are way too emotionally involved. I can't discuss this with you."

"I'm the one who has to call Luke Denton's family and tell them the news. If he screws this up and the killer gets away…"

"Gil… I want to catch the guy, too." He placed a comforting hand on Grissom's shoulder. "You'll just have to trust me on this one. In the meantime – please try not to commit professional suicide."

Grissom grunted as the two of them went back into the room together.

The doctor was making his way across the floor, Sara's hospital chart clenched in one meaty fist. He was short, fat and balding, and he huffed heavily with each step. "You're beginning to heal and you should be a little more comfortable now – with the IV and that catheter out." He announced, as the nurse pulled back the curtain exposing the young CSI to the three men.

Conscious of their eyes on her, she shakily shoved the blankets down to cover her exposed legs and looked warily at the three of them, her voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. "I can go home now, right?" She inquired, her eyes shifting to the rotund physician.

The name on his tag said Dr. Franke… abstractly, her hazy mind filled in the 'nstien' on its own.

"Just give me a moment." He held up one sausage like finger. "Hmmm… Nurse Korman, I can't seem to find the SA sheet."

"What?" The word escaped Sara's mouth in the form of a gasp. Horrified, she turned her eyes to the men standing nearby.

Mistaking the look of horror on her face for one of accusation, Brass shook his head. "No way, Sara..." He looked reassuringly, at the young CSI. "I heard the shots and no more than 30 seconds passed before I was in there. No one laid a finger on you, I swear." Confusion shifted to anger. "You must have the wrong patient."

The doctor held up the file and waved it in their direction. "Sara Sidle, shooting victim presented with head trauma. There is no rape sheet in place, but from the damage I just noticed while removing your catheter. I am certain you have been raped."

Gil Grissom blanched, while Ecklie shifted uncomfortably at the change of topic.

"No…" She shook her head.

"The injuries are fresh. Within the last 48 hours. Maybe you went out to a bar recently? Drank too much? Woke up no recollection of the evening out?"

"No… I work graveyard. After shift I usually go… go back to my bo… to Luke's place, depending on our schedules." Sara's hands trembled in her lap. A moment later, a rosy flush crept across her face, and her hands swept up to cover it. "Look, I - we had intercourse yesterday before being called into work." She said quietly. Her mind relived the sensation of her back pressed painfully up against the kitchen counter, and the rupturing pain as he entered her.

The doctor shook his head, adamantly. "It is not possible that the injuries you have are from a single act of intercourse. There is a lot of bruising and tearing present Ms Sidle. This does not occur with normal sexual relations." He looked at the nurse and nodded. "We should run a rape kit, if none has been done."

Normal… Now that was an interesting word. Sara felt like there was a lead ball sitting in the pit of her stomach. "We'd had sex two times yesterday." She admitted, embarrassment edging her voice. "That could account for the bruising and the tearing."

The doctor shook his head in disagreement. "But not the location of it tearing… Ms. Sidle… " He told her gently, as he took on the tone of teacher. "Indications of normal intercourse are different from those of a rape, for example…" He began his explanation, but was immediately cut off.

"Save it Doc. I've given the same speech dozens of times." She looked at the three men standing beside her; each of them sported a different emotion, and they ran the gamut. From Ecklie's sneer bordering on disgust, to Brass' concern and self doubt, to Grissom's horror.

"Look, not that my sex life is anyone's business…" She closed her eyes – hoping that it would make her next words easier to say. "But my partner is… was… well… often forceful and very rarely conventional as a lover. Okay?"

Humiliated and feeling something like a specimen in a locked a jar, she pulled her legs up as close to her chest as the pain in her side would allow, and wrapped her arms around her knees. Dropping her head onto her knees she shook it. "No more…" She said into the blanket. "No rape kit, no questions. I want to go home." Uncurling herself she shakily slid to the side of the bed and tentatively stepped off onto the cool cement floor.

It hurt to walk. Her body had clearly gotten used to being horizontal over the last day, and it liked it. An immediate drop in blood pressure caused an overwhelming wooziness, and Sara was forced to grab onto the bed for support. The nurse grasped her by the arms in an attempt to keep her upright, and then tried to ease her back onto the mattress, but she would have none of it. Shaking off the woman, she slowly headed for the small locker in the room.

"You really should be in bed for at least another 24 hours. Ms. Sidle. You have a nasty concussion; your brain needs a rest." The doctor stepped in front of her just as she reached the locker. "I can't approve of your going home."

Rubbing her head to try and assuage a growing headache, Sara leveled the doctor with a resolute look. He resembled a life size weeble and clearly had no sense of patient privilege to top it all off. "See that's just it. I don't need your approval," She reached around the man and took hold of the handle. "But your objection is duly noted."

With that she pulled the door open forcing the man to step out of the way or be hit with it. But the cubicle was empty. Slamming the door shut she rested her forehead against it, the cool metal momentarily assuaging the steady throbbing in it. A soft moan escaped her mouth. "My stuff is in evidence…" It was really more of a statement than a question.

Her body became rigid, as warm arms suddenly found their way around her. "Come on Sara..." She relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice.

It was Grissom.

"Let's go. You need to lie down." He tried to direct her back towards the bed, but she turned away.

"I'm going home, Grissom. If you want to help me out, please get me some clothes to wear, otherwise I'll walk out of here in what I have on." She fixed him with a pained stare.

He was prepared to argue and determined to refuse, but the look on her face brought him to his knees emotionally. Resigned, he sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. "Sit down. I'll see if I have anything in the truck..." He knew he had overalls and fresh socks, but beyond that he wasn't sure. He threw a glance at the two men standing behind him, not wanting to leave her alone with them, but not sure what else to do, "Ecklie and Brass have some questions for you. But that is only if you feel like answering them."

Sara flicked her eyes towards the two men, her arms unconsciously wrapping around her waist. The hospital gown she was wearing was huge, so large in fact that she could easily drape it around herself twice. But it was also incredibly short and flimsy, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. "I'm showering first..." She needed to feel on an even ground with the two men. Being dressed and clean would make her feel more in control, more able to face the upcoming inquiries.

The nurse handed her a small soap sample and some shampoo as she entered the bathroom. "Try not to get the bandages too wet Mrs. Sidle, they're fairly waterproof but may start to lift."

As the door slammed shut behind her, Ecklie and the Captain exchanged exasperated glances.

Seizing his files, the doctor nodded to the nurse and the two of them left the room, closely followed by Gil Grissom.

"Dr. Franke…" He grasped the man's arm as he headed down the hall.

The doctor stopped and turned. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Just how forceful would intercourse have to be to replicate what you saw?"

Dr. Franke stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before answering. "I honestly don't know, sir. But I can tell you that if I had been on duty when your friend came in, I would have run a kit on her immediately."

Vitriol rose in Grissom's throat, and he nodded numbly.

The doctor took a few steps down the hallway and then turned once again. "She shouldn't be alone for the next 48 hours."

"Thanks, I'll take care of it…" Dazed, he blinked back the slew of emotions coursing through him, and forced himself to focus on the immediate concerns. Sara needed clothes.

TBC