Chapter 36:
Dr. Phillips was silent. Grissom had indicated that something tragic from childhood may have resurfaced, but he didn't give any details. Usually it took many sessions to get this sort of revelation.
"Think back to last night, Sara. Do you remember anything about the crime scene that may have triggered these memories?"
"The memories are always with me. What I avoid are the feelings that go with them. When I hear the voices, I have to leave; I have to find somewhere safe." Images began to flash through Sara's mind. A man covered with blood, a woman lying on a bed, her wrists shredded. But they weren't her parents. Who were they?
"What sort of feelings do these voices evoke?" Dr. Phillips asked.
Sara thought, shuddered, and responded, "Sheer terror. My body starts quaking from the inside. I can't breathe, I have to run away." She began to hear the voices again.
"Daddy, stop hitting her, Daddy, no!" The doctor saw the change in her body, the glazing in her eyes.
"Sara," she spoke softly, "You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You're at Dr. Grissom's home, he won't let anyone hurt you, and neither will I." She pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed Grissom's number. She asked him to come downstairs.
When he arrived, he recognized the look in Sara's eyes, the rigidity and defensive posture of her body.
"What happened?" he asked.
"We were talking and I think we came too close to her pain. You're more familiar to her, she may respond to you. Can you help?"
"I'll try." He sat on the sofa next to Sara and spoke soothingly to her, "Sara, it's me, Gil. Can I hold you to keep you safe?" Sara looked over at him with vague recognition, her arms went quickly around his neck, and she buried her face against his shoulder crying. He stroked her hair, and continued whispering to her in calming tones. The tears slowed. After a few minutes, she sat up and wiped her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," she apologized.
"We were talking about the voices, and the feelings that come with them. Do you remember?" Dr. Phillips asked gently.
Sara nodded, then burrowed into Gil's arms before speaking, "I was in my home, and my father was hitting my Mom. I couldn't get him to stop. Then he started coming after me, so I ran."
"Sara, I know this is hard, but do you remember anything about last night that might have caused these voices to return?"
She remembered the officer's words, "The husband's body is in the family room, the wife's body is in the master bedroom, and the two children are in the smaller bedroom at the back of the house." She shared these words with Dr. Phillips.
Sara continued, "The scene was too familiar, I remember that now, it reminded me of my home. Dr. Phillips, I can't be a CSI if crime scenes cause me to crash emotionally and run away. Please, can we start over and find a way to take the power out of these memories? I only have a few days here, and then I will have to return home and face my supervisor."
"I think that would be a good idea. We still have some time tonight, and we can talk again before you leave. You won't have complete resolution, but we can at least make a small start."
They agreed to meet again the following afternoon. Sara assured Gil that she was okay, so he went back upstairs. Then Dr. Phillips started over by examining Sara's childhood and her feelings about herself and her parents. In the few days left, they would only be able to scratch the surface, but maybe it would be enough to allow Sara to cope with her extreme emotional responses to domestic violence. She would need to seek additional help when she returned to San Francisco.
After Dr. Phillips left, Sara climbed the stairs to the second floor. From the doorway to the bedroom, she watched Grissom working at his desk. She walked quietly across the room towards him. He sensed her coming, and swiveled his chair expectantly. She sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Thank you Gil," she said and then kissed him. He returned her kiss, wrapping his arms protectively around her.
Rumbling stomachs reminded them that it was time for dinner. Grissom rummaged around in his refrigerator and cabinets; he made sandwiches and warmed some soup. They talked of everyday things while they ate.
"We need to go shopping tomorrow," he said, "You need to buy some clothes to change into, and I'm sure there are other things you need. We also need groceries."
"Do you have something that I could wear so that I can at least wash the clothes I have on?" she asked.
"Everything of mine would be too big, but I'll find something." He went upstairs and a few minutes later returned with a t-shirt and some sweat pants.
"Let me get a quick shower, and then we can wash my clothes for tomorrow," Sara said. She took the clothes Gil offered and went back up to the master bath. While she was gone, he gathered, washed, and put away the dishes. He brewed some herbal tea and prepared a plate of fresh, raw vegetables to snack on. Sara came back down the stairs in his sweats and t-shirt, her wet hair curling as it began to dry. They tossed her clothes in the wash machine, and then settled down on the couch in the living room.
"You don't have to tell me anything more if you don't want to, but was it helpful to talk to Dr. Phillips?" Grissom asked.
Sara thought, telling her story to a stranger, a professional, was one thing, but telling the complete story to Grissom was another. He already knew about the abuse, he had learned of that while comforting her, but Sara didn't want him thinking she came from a family of freaks. She would take the easy way out for now, and not tell him anything more.
"Yes, it was helpful," Sara answered simply. Grissom accepted her answer at face value. He knew there was more to the story – thanks to Collins – and he recognized how hard it would be to share such a thing with him. His childhood held few traumas. His father was a workaholic, but he was not abusive. He died when Grissom was a child, but he was not murdered. His mother was deaf, but she was not in a prison mental ward. At ever turn, her story was more painful – impossibly painful. Yet she had survived to become an amazing woman. He would accept her silence, as he wished others would accept his.
"You were supposed to work tonight, weren't you?" Sara asked.
"Yes, but I didn't want you to be alone your first night in town. We were between cases anyway." They had been apart for 6 weeks, talking only once or twice a week, as they had been able. Sara had launched a new career, and Gil had begun preparing to teach formal college courses for the first time. They had many things to share and talk about, as long as they steered away from anything too personal. Both were used to working nights, so they talked until the early hours of the morning. Finally, their eyes began to droop, and Gil suggested it was time to go to bed. They went upstairs. Gil grabbed a spare pillow and an extra blanket, along with his pajamas.
"I'll sleep on the couch. Will you be okay up here?" he asked.
Sara started to protest, but then realized the timing was not right – her emotional wounds were too raw, she answered, "I'll be fine."
Gil kissed her gently, "Well, I'll see you in the morning then, goodnight, Sara."
"Goodnight, Gil," Sara returned his kiss and climbed into his bed. He turned off the light, went back downstairs and tried to get comfortable on the couch. Eventually, they both fell asleep.
A blood curdling scream tore through the house.
"No, Daddy, stop it, you're hurting her!" Sara cried. Gil woke and rushed upstairs. Obviously, the nightmare was back.
"Daddy, stop hitting Mommy!" Gil ran to her. Once again she had her arms covering her head defensively.
"Sara, it's me," Gil tried to wake her from her pain. She was too deeply into the horror. As he came closer, she lashed out, hitting him with her fists. Her fear made her strong, and the blows were increasingly painful.
"Daddy, please stop, I promise I'll be good, Daddy you're hurting me!"
He began again, "Sara, you're safe now; It's Gil. You're with me. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore." He continued talking, his voice low and soothing, his words compassionate and comforting. She stopped punching him in the chest, her arms fell to her sides, and she finally woke. Tears flowed from her eyes.
"I'm sorry Gil, I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have involved you in my messed up life," she apologized. Gil placed his arm around her shoulder and drew her close.
"Sara, I'm glad you came here." He knew that she wasn't ready to be alone.
"Come on, let's lay back down. I'll hold you so that you'll feel safe." She soaked his pajama top in her tears as she cried herself back to sleep in his arms.