I KNOW THIS HAS BEEN WAY TOO LONG COMING AND I DO APOLOGIZE! HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I'LL TRY TO GET THE NEXT ONES OUT SOONER.

CHAPTER 10

Blackness and silence, peaceful in its lack of stimulus and Sara's mind floated on it with no conscious thought, emotion or desire. It seemed a perfect place to be; far away from the tormenting memories of being raised in an abusive home. Far away from the disturbing choices of her youth which lead her on a circular path right back to the nightmare existing of her childhood. Far away from the gnawing, self-loathing which forced Sara to try harder than everyone else... be more perfect than everyone else, just to find acceptance in the world.

But there was a light at the end of that lonely tunnel for her... a hand, gently stroking her cheek. A husky voice whispering her name; bringing to life those long hidden desires to be loved, to be accepted for who she was. Sara let herself drift towards that voice, towards that softly stroking hand... towards the man she's loved for so long. And slowly the black veil of unconsciousness begins to lift and Sara's mind can focus only on the man who brought her out of her pathetically lonely life.

Her eyes try to open, but there is something wrong. She moans softly, trying to re-enter the bright world she can glimpse through the tiny slits as her lids flutter against a heavy veil of pain. She briefly manages to open one eye further, glimpsing the bright light and the silhouette of the man stroking her cheek. Sara is confused, but at the same time filled with warmth as she forces the word from her dry throat.

"Grissom..." Then, her one usable eye focuses on the face as it comes closer and her warmth turns to cold, hard fear in her chest. The face of the man is at first gentle and concerned as he leans in to catch her barely audible whisper. But it is quickly replaced a groan of rage as he realizes the name she uttered was not his own. His fist jerks away from her face, then slams down on the swollen face in an act of jealous retribution and Sara's fears vanish as she is thrown back into the world of black indifference.

How dare she utter that bastard's name?! His fist pulls back a second time, but he hesitates, realizing Sara has once again slipped into unconsciousness from the latest blow to her temple. Johnny! Johnny Nash! That was the name she should be muttering with such longing... not the name of that creepy old man who lured her away from him four years ago. Nash glares angrily down at the love of his life, cursing her for making him once again lose his temper.

Sara had always good at making him lose his temper, even when she appeared to be doing everything he wanted her to do. There was always some little thing, a look, a hesitation to do his bidding and he'd know; she was mocking him again. Then he'd be forced to show her the error of her ways; force her back into the right frame of mind. The problem was, even when he was beating her for her insolence, she would somehow manage to enrage him further and he'd lose control and take his frustrations out on her. Like now, Johnny stares at her unconscious form, watching a small trickle of blood ooze from the cut on her ear where his fist had made contact. That was her fault! He had tried to wake her up gently, wanting to see the old smile on her face as she looked into his eyes. But she had to ruin it by uttering that man's name!

It has been for four years and during that time, Sara had never made any attempts to contact him, ask him for help in getting away from that creep she worked for. So he had no illusions that she would ask for his help this time. That was why he had to do things this way; ambushing her in the parking lot, forcing her to come with him. In his mind, it was like rescuing her from a cult that had brainwashed his sweet Sara. Now he needed to keep her isolated, deprived of all outside stimuli until he could clear her mind and get her properly focused on him again. Nash paces back and forth in front of her, at a loss as to how to get that man out of her head. He decides to let her sleep this off and maybe she'll be more reasonable when she wakes again. He checks her bindings, ensuring she is securely contained before he grabs his jacket and heads for the door.

Nash slips outside the door of the dingy motel room; stepping into an equally dingy world that seemed to come to life when the sun went down in this sin filled city. The underbelly of Las Vegas was no place for his precious Sara, but until he could break the ties that Grissom had over her mind, he couldn't risk moving them back to San Francisco where they belonged. With a suspicious glance in all directions, he sees no one paying any particular attention to him or his room. He hoped no one had seen him unloading his cargo into the room so early this morning... a time when he knew these night crawlers of Las Vegas would be passed out or creeping back under the rocks they came from for the day. With one last tug on his room door, Nash hunches his thin shoulders and walks off towards the street, following the flow of riff-raff moving out to intercept the partying tourists looking for sex, drugs or something more dangerous.

Why couldn't he remember his name? Grissom's mind held millions of useless facts about a myriad of topics; some he wished not to remember, but he did. So why now, when it was so important... so urgent; why couldn't he recall the name of the man who had kidnapped Sara? Sitting at his desk in his dark office, Gil's hands support his head, somehow hoping that would help him to recall this important fact.

Catherine stops in his doorway, seeing the dejected posture of her boss; a man normally not given to depression and self-doubt. Yes, he had his moments when he could be a real pain in the ass, but that was never due to his contentious personality. Grissom was a man who no matter what he felt about you, treated you fairly and with respect. The fact that he felt there were only a handful of people in all of humanity that merited true respect was not something many people knew.

She steps into the room, having figured out so far that Sara has been abducted by her previous, abusive boyfriend. She gracefully lowers her body into the chair opposite his and lifts her feet to rest on the edge of his desk; finally drawing attention to herself.

"So... nothing popping out of that brain of yours yet?"

His head comes up to see her smiling at him and he wonders how long she has been seated there, studying him. "No... I see his face... I hear their argument... I..."

He suddenly sits back in frustration, knowing he has replayed the same scene from the San Francisco symposium four years ago hundreds of times with no luck. He had been teaching a class on forensic entomology when a commotion at the back of the room caught his attention. Before it could disrupt his class, he calmly excused himself, hopped down from the stage and made his way back to where the couple were arguing.

"I heard the commotion and stopped the class to go ask this couple who were arguing in the back to kindly take their dispute out into the hall. When I got there, this guy had Sara's arm twisted cruelly in his attempts to make her go with him. It was pretty obvious she didn't want to go from the fear in her eyes."

"That was the first time you met Sara, right?" Catherine had only heard snippets about their meeting at a symposium in San Francisco. Grissom had never shared the details and Sara sure as hell had never told anyone about her past before coming to work here.

"Yes... and to my everlasting regret, I didn't see the situation for what it was at the time. I was more concerned with them having disrupted my class since the entire audience was by then watching us. I still remember the sad resignation in her eyes when I told them to 'please step outside and not return if they couldn't conduct themselves in a more professional manner'. He calmed down, verbally at least and gave her arm a jerk and she went with him quietly."

Grissom once again covers his face with his hands and slowly rubs his palms down over it, trying to wipe away the guilt he's lived with ever since that day. Catherine knows her boss well and remains silent until he once again continues his tale.

"She left all her books, study materials... even her wallet behind. Should have been a huge red flag... but I just didn't see it until after the class when another student brought her things to me and explained the woman had left them behind. I told her I would take care of it, since I was to blame for her not returning to my class. I found an address on her ID in her wallet and decided to go drop it off since my class was done and I didn't fly home until the next morning."

Grissom is staring at the pen in his hands, slowly unscrewing the pieces, to dismantle the parts and laying them out side by side. Then he slowly re-assembles the pen, only to take it apart again. Catherine waits, but when he doesn't speak again, she prompts him to continue. "So, you obviously found her...?"

"I did. Living in a rundown apartment building, that had once been a nice place, but had fallen to the ravages of time and a seedy tenant base. The mailboxes didn't match the name on her ID so..."

"It must have been in the boyfriend's name! Gil, do you recall the mailbox name?"

He thinks hard, trying to focus his mind as he replays that particular portion of his memory again. He shakes his head in frustration and sighs, "No... I... I remember going up to the apartment... knocking and waiting a long time. I knocked again, not wanting to leave her bag out in the hallway where it was sure to be stolen." He pauses as his mind recalls that feeling of regret when he realized he wouldn't see the girl again. "I was just about to leave the bag when a soft voice called out from inside, asking who it was. Sara's voice was trembling, fearful and I knew then I'd made a mistake in letting that guy drag her out of the room."

He suddenly sits up straight as a portion of that foggy memory comes into focus for him. He snaps his fingers as the name comes to him. "Nash! The name on the mailbox was Nash. N-A-S-H! I remember as she opened the door... I saw her black eye, the puffy lip and I was filled with rage. I wanted to pummel that creep and I demanded to know where he was."

Grissom is now standing as he paces back and forth behind his desk. Catherine remains still, hoping his memory breakthrough will give them more than a last name. "Was he there? This Nash guy?"

"No and Sara was too afraid to tell me what happened... other than to say she should have asked his permission before she signed up for my class. I wanted to stay and talk, but she was afraid of what would happen if her boyfriend came home and found me there. So, we ended up taking a long walk along the Wharf, stopping at a small park where we talked for hours."

"So, is that when you offered her the job here? To help her get away from that creep?"

"I offered to help her get into her own place... to a shelter... to the hospital or the police station... but no, I didn't offer her a job at that time. She was a typical battered woman, too afraid to take the steps necessary to get away from her tormentor."

Grissom stops pacing to examine one of his specimen jars on the shelf behind his desk as his mind recalls the rest of the story. "I gave her my cell phone and my business card. Told her to call me if and when she was ready to make a change. It's all I could do... she wasn't ready to take that step. I'd been home from that trip about two weeks when I got a call here... from a nurse in the emergency room at a hospital in the Bay area. Sara was there... he'd beat her pretty badly and the nurse found my card in her pocket and called."

Catherine vaguely recalled Grissom's unexpected return to San Francisco, but he never told anyone what the trip was about. "I remember when you lit out of here."

"I got there before she was released from the hospital. He was there, demanding they let her go home with him. Thank god that nurse was part bulldog because she got right in his face and told him Sara wasn't going anywhere with him and called the police. He was arrested... Catherine! He was arrested! There'll be a record with the... aah... aah... where the hell was that hospital?!"

He thinks for a moment and forces his mind to dig deeper for the memories he needs. "San Mateo... it was in San Mateo. They arrested him for assaulting Sara and threatening the nurse. That's when I convinced Sara to move away from there... make a clean break from him while he was in custody and couldn't follow her."

"Okay, I'll make the call to the San Mateo police department... for any DV arrests of a guy named Nash from four years ago." She gets up and hurries from the room, glad to have something proactive to do, instead of sitting there watching Grissom mentally flogging himself for letting this happen.

The next time Sara manages to emerge from the dark oblivion, she is just as confused as before. Why couldn't she open her eyes? What were those unfamiliar sounds? She vaguely recalls opening her eyes and seeing... who? She'd called out Grissom's name, but... then all she remembers is pain and darkness. How could Grissom be connected to the pain and confusion she is experiencing right now? She feels nausea rising in her throat and takes several deep, calming breaths until the throbbing in her head subsides and the bile retreats a little.

Her eyes are useless to her and for some unknown reason, she is in complete darkness. She feels like her eyes are open, but yet she can't see anything... but were they open? Her lids feel puffy and heavy to the point she can't even blink. She needs to examine them closer, but when she tries to move her hand to rub her face, she finds her arm won't move.. She lies there a long moment wondering if she is paralyzed... no, she can rotate her wrists and clench her fists so she wasn't paralyzed. She tries to move again and that is when she feels the bite of the restraints on her wrists.

Shock crashes through her as she realizes both her hands and feet have been bound. What happened to her?! Where was she?! And who had done this to her?! The last thing she recalls is spending the night with Grissom... and there certainly hadn't been any restraints used then. But what happened next? She had to leave... for...for what? Court, that was it. She was hurrying out to her SUV because she was about to be late for court. She remembers making it to her car, opening the back to put her kit inside, but then... the memory of her abduction crashes into her consciousness and with a gasp of fear, Sara remembers! He had come at her so fast... so hard in a blitz attack that she hadn't seen him coming. She tried to fight him... for all her personal combat training, it hadn't helped much. The last thing she remembers is his fist crashing down on her face over and over again... and then blackness.

Well, that explained why she couldn't open her eyes and suddenly as if the memory has awakened the nerves her face begins to throb. Each individual strike which left a bruise and swelling was making itself known with acute clarity and Sara moans as the pain becomes too intense and she sags back onto the musty smelling blanket beneath her. The nausea once again threatens to overtake her and she has no option but to raise her head and lean in what she hopes is the direction of the side of the bed.

When her gut is aching from retching up the empty contents of her stomach, Sara sags back, thankful she was not lying in her own vomitus. She again takes calming breathes as she wills the throbbing in her head and face to recede. While she lies there panting softly, her mind is working overtime... trying to put the missing pieces in place. She woke up once before... and the man, or the vague outline of a man, had been here. Obviously she was alone now, but had her mind been playing tricks on her? Had she actually seen Johnny bending over her and stroking her face so tenderly?

At first she had thought it was Grissom... his hands were always gentle and caring, but the voice hadn't been right. Then when she called his name, the figure leaned in and she barely got a glimpse of his face. Johnny's rage filled, snarling face... just before his fist landed solidly on her temple and the blackness returned. Her mind is still so fuzzy... was it really him? How had he and Grissom come to be at the same place?

She once again takes stock of her various aching body parts and realizes that her face seems to have sustained the brunt of the attack. Her arms and legs hurt only because they were tightly bound, but she couldn't be sure of more serious injuries until she had a chance to move her extremities. At this point her arms were pretty much numb from the position they had been in for so long. Her legs could move, somewhat, but every time she tried to straighten them, she felt it tugging on her wrists. She experiments a couple more times, bending her knees, then trying to straighten them. She had been hog-tied... with her hands and feet bound by the same restraint rope so she couldn't stand up.

Sara can't do anything right now except lie there and hope her head quit throbbing so she could keep the nausea at bay. She concentrates on controlling her breathing, focusing on the to keep the panic from taking control of her. While she lies there, she lets her analytical mind take over and shoves her emotional mind into a far back corner. Okay, she couldn't see, but that didn't mean she didn't have other senses.

She takes a deep breath through her nose, identifying the musty odor of the blanket, possibly mold somewhere in the room... a more distant and faint aroma of bitter alcohol or stale beer. This told her she was most likely in some fleabag motel... definitely not on the same caliber as the room she and Grissom shared last night.

She listens intently as she slows her breathing to hear the activity in the rooms around her. She hears a loud television... playing what sounded like a porno flick since there wasn't actually an words being spoken over the bawdy music playing. She listened harder, trying to put that sound aside. Yes, there were people talking outside... saying something about 'loose slots... and 'cheap buffets.' With a sigh of relief, Sara deduces she must still be in Las Vegas... or one of its suburbs where the casino's were still plentiful enough to support this type of establishment.

Or... she could be in any number of other small towns scattered around Nevada that tried to draw unsuspecting people in by offering loose slots and all-you-can-eat buffets. She quickly does a mental listing of the towns she knew that were large enough to support such places... Laughlin, Henderson, Sparks, Reno... Suddenly her panic rises again... if this was Johnny who had abducted her he would most certainly try to make it back to the Bay area as quickly as possible to avoid detection. That meant heading up the 95 Highway; which ran straight through Reno.

Sara has no concept of time... knowing only that it was dark in the room where she was now. How long had she been unconscious? How long had she been missing? Was anyone even looking for her? She calms her rising panic by repeating over and over... "Grissom will know... Grissom will find me... Grissom will know... Grissom will find me..." The mental fatigue and physical injuries begin to weigh heavily on her and eventually Sara's body can take no more as she slips back into the black haven of nothingness.