Hi guys. Thanks for all the reviews. Sorry I'm a bit late in getting this posted. The next chapter will be sooner. Thanks again. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sara leaned forward to reach for her drink. A fraction of an inch of Scotch remained in the glass.

Grissom rose quickly and before she could reach for the bottle of liquor he grabbed it and went into the kitchen. He wasn't sure how she would react.

"Why don't you pour yourself one, Griss? It looks like I've been cut off."

"You have been," he said evenly, preparing himself for the explosion.

"That's okay. My head hurts anyway," Sara admitted.

"Which I'm sure has nothing to do with your coffee table encounter earlier?" He returned with two bottles of water and took a seat beside her.

"Absolutely not," she sighed and ran her fingertips over the raised knot.

Grissom's brow creased when he saw her wince. He reached a hand toward her head.

Sara pulled back. "Don't, please?"

"Would you at least tell me if you're dizzy?"

"No."

"No you wouldn't or no you're not?"

"Griss, stop trying to confuse me. And no, I don't think I'm dizzy. It's hard to tell. I've had a few drinks."

He exhaled forcefully; hoping the frustration he felt wasn't entirely lost upon her.

"Sara, do you, uh, want to continue, or would you rather take a break?"

"If I don't finish this now, I'm not certain I will."

He nodded and settled himself against the cushions as she pulled further away from him, assuming her previous posture. Grissom also noted the return of her detached expression.

"You know, it feels so strange to me that I could ever feel that way about Ben. Of course, that's twenty-twenty hindsight. I just wanted him to notice me. I was stupid."

She paused to smooth the left leg of her sweats, hands playing nervously over the material.

"You know, Griss, it plays in my head like a movie? Sometimes though, it's more like slides. The kind people used to take of their vacations and then bore their neighbors with? Sometimes it's like that. It depends."

"On what?"

"I guess on what my brain can handle."

Grissom's stomach took a dive as her last statement hit him. She'd said it so earnestly and without emotion. Looking at her again, he realized that it was physically painful for him to watch her sit so rigid. He found himself mirroring the posture in an absurd attempt to take on some of her obvious discomfort.

"Sara, would it be any easier if you described what happened? I mean the way we talk through a crime scene?"

"I'm not sure I can do that." She turned and met his eyes briefly.

"Just tell me what you see, what you remember. I'm right here if you need me."

Grissom hoped he sounded convincing. Truth be told, he was terrified of not being able to provide the support she needed. He was terrified that he would freeze when Sara needed him most.

She nodded and pulled her feet beneath her body. Her eyes closed and Grissom knew she had distanced herself from the retelling.

"I bought this U2 tape that had just come out. I was home for a few minutes before Benji banged on the back door. I let him in. He was looking for Keith. I laughed and told him that Keith and my mom had just left to pick up groceries. I thought he knew that on Thursdays they always went to the store so we'd be stocked for the weekend guests. Benji seemed different that day…I remember my face getting really red. He kept staring at me."

Abruptly, Sara's eyes shot open. Standing and walking to the stereo, she picked up one CD case after another without returning any of them to the rack. Soon there was a pile of discarded music scattered at her feet.

"I don't know what I can stand to hear." It was barely above a whisper, but he heard.

"It's okay, Sara."

"I'm not sure I believe you, Griss."

She shuddered slightly, then lowered her body to the carpet in front of the entertainment center. Sara's back was to Grissom as she leaned elbows into knees and rested her chin in her hands.

He thought briefly about moving closer to her, before concluding that the physical distance between them was something she needed right now.

"Up until that day, I didn't think Ben really noticed me. It's not like I was a knockout or anything. Sometimes I think that I was giving out some sort of signal. Maybe I was. Maybe I did entice him. My mom…well…I still don't know. I could have been sending him signals."

Grissom chose to ignore the comment.

"I was wearing a light blue tank top, but no makeup. I mean, uh, I just didn't usually wear makeup, so I…He said he would wait for Keith. I remember being really embarrassed when he kept staring. I got a soda from the fridge just so I could be doing something. Ben heard the U2 tape coming from upstairs and said he'd been meaning to buy it, but, uh, he wanted to hear all the songs before, you know, spending the money."

Sara took a deep breath and pulled her knees to her chest. She turned to Grissom, her expression one of guilt. "Benji asked to come to my room and listen. I said it was okay, but I was wrong. I was really wrong."

Noting the utter hollowness and pain in her voice, Grissom again restrained himself from trying to physically comfort her. She was still so tense and full of self-recrimination, he knew any move on his part would be rebuffed.

"No, Sara, he was wrong."

"Don't say that. You weren't there. You can't know that?"

"You're right, I wasn't there. That's why I need you to tell me."

"But I'm biased, Griss. It happened to me. Maybe I'm making myself look better?"

"Sara, you've always been extremely hard on yourself. I don't believe for one minute that you'd distort the truth."

Rubbing her eyes vigorously, she didn't acknowledge Grissom's statement, but did continue her narrative.

"He was behind me as we went to my room. I was glad because he couldn't see how nervous I was. I thought maybe he would kiss me when we'd gotten upstairs. That's what I'd always imagined. Benji kissing me. It would be really soft and sweet. Stupid, I know. But, that's what I thought…soft and sweet. When we got to my room, he closed the door. I should have known what that…I mean, damn, why did I let him come to my room? See, Griss, I was nervous going up the stairs. I knew something was going to happen. I knew."

Sara balled her right hand into a fist and she struck the front of the stereo cabinet.

Grissom jumped at the sudden movement and cringed as he watched her recoil in pain. "Sara, don't. Just don't."

"Yeah, bad idea. I was picturing Ben in front of me."

Grissom went to the kitchen and filled a small sandwich bag with ice then wrapped it in a towel. Returning to the living room he offered it to Sara, who shook her head.

"Humor me," he sighed.

Taking the ice pack and placing it gently on her hand, she continued, almost as if nothing had interrupted her.

"Ben grabbed me and he, uh, started kissing me and he pushed me onto my bed. I yelled, but he hit me. He was heavy. His body was really heavy. I remember thinking how could anyone be so heavy and run so fast on a soccer field."

Grissom watched as Sara rocked herself. He doubted she was even aware of the gentle swaying motion.

"He ripped my tank top off and did the same with my bra. Every time I yelled he hit me. My mouth had blood in it and Ben still tried to kiss me. I thought he'd gone insane or something. Then…then his hands reached into the waistband of my jeans. I was kicking and...he would hit me."

Grissom shifted forward to rest his face on his hands. The degree of helplessness he felt was overwhelming. A bitter taste rose in his throat as he thought of what she'd gone through.

"I tried to get out from underneath him. I did. He was just so heavy. I couldn't get my breath and some stupid thought about suffocation crossed my mind. He'd gotten my jeans down and his…his hands…he was hurting me. It hurt. I must have screamed again because he hit me really hard in the jaw and I blacked out. When I opened my eyes, Benji…he was unzipping his pants and…uh, he tried…"

Sara stood, the ice pack flying from her hand and the CD's scattering. Grissom startled briefly, then pushed himself from the sofa and prepared for whatever she was about to do.

Her back remained turned. "I'm sorry, Griss. You don't want to hear this."

"Yes, I do. Please, Sara, I want to hear."

"Why?!," she spun and faced him. "Why the hell would anyone want to hear someone reliving a nightmare?! This isn't The Jerry fucking Springer show!"

He took a step toward her and she clumsily tried to back up, but soon found herself leaning against the wall for support. Grissom took another step.

"Sara?"

"I'm fine. Please, I'm okay." She held up her hand in a stop gesture.

Grissom would have ignored the hand if he hadn't met her eyes. The pain was there, along with something else; a hardness he's never seen before. She didn't want his comfort. Grissom tried to reassure himself that it was a situational response and not indicative of her feelings toward him.

Standing his ground, but dropping his hand to his side, Grissom never broke eye contact.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Sara. I don't want to push you."

Her posture changed dramatically, as fatigue seemed to overcome her. "I know that. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"There is nothing wrong with you, Sara."

"Oh, really? Sit, Grissom. I want to tell you the rest. You're obviously willing to hear what I did."

"You don't have to finish this…I mean, not now."

"Yes, I do. Please, just sit down."

Grissom took a seat on the edge of the sofa and watched as Sara paced the living room. The energy coming off of her was almost tangible.

"Benji was going to rape me. I knew that. The door was thrown open and Keith came in. He must have heard me screaming. I wish he hadn't." Sara's voice was louder and took on a sense of urgency, as if she was reliving every moment as she paced.

Grissom wasn't about to say or do anything to interfere. His pain at hearing the story couldn't hold a candle to her having lived it.

"Keith grabbed Benji. He was screaming at him. I remember being so glad that the weight was off my body. I crawled a few feet away and tried to cover myself. I didn't want my brother to see me. I was glad for a second that he was preoccupied struggling with Ben."

Sara stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, her eyes downcast.

"I'd never seen my brother's face so angry. Keith stopped yelling when Ben shoved him against the dresser. I still think Benji was trying to run. He looked scared. My brother was a couple of inches taller than him. Keith, he…uh…he glanced once at me before tackling Ben. I wish I could say for certain what I saw in his eyes. Anger and confusion more than anything, I guess."

Sara looked up, but focused on a far wall rather than Grissom.

"I remember they wrestled for what seemed like forever. I yelled at Keith that I was okay. He held Benji down and punched him in the face. I can still hear that loud popping sound. My mom, uh, she ran into the room. She glanced around and seemed to draw a conclusion. I'll remember what she said as long as I live."

When nothing more was forthcoming from Sara, Grissom gently prompted. "What did she say?"

"My mom, uh, she looked at me and said, 'What have you done?' I guess it wasn't difficult to figure out with me sitting there clutching a torn shirt to my chest."

"Jesus, Sara. I mean, you know she was wrong?"

"I think she was reacting like any mother would."

"No. She was blaming you."

"I'm not stupid, Griss. But you have to understand my mom walking in on me mostly naked, with my brother beating up a guy that had his pants unzipped."

"Sorry, but your attempt at justifying her statement is wasted on me."

"Oh, and you're a parent?"

Grissom shifted uncomfortably. "No, but God help me if I walked into a similar situation and accused my bruised and battered daughter of causing herself to be attacked."

Sara was briefly taken aback by Grissom's tone, not to mention his statement.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter what my mom said. What matters…damnit, I will not cry."

"Sara?"

"Just let me finish. Please?"

He nodded as she pushed herself from the wall and resumed pacing.

"Ben managed to shove Keith off of him. When Benji tried to stand, Keith shoved him into my desk and I thought the fight was over. I uh, didn't even see it at first. I didn't see what Benji picked up. I heard him grunt as he rushed Keith and raised his hand. I remember thinking that he was so stupid, trying to take on my brother again. Keith actually wasn't even focused on him until the last minute. I think he was catching his breath. Ben bashed him in the head with the paperweight. There really wasn't a sound. Keith just crumpled. There wasn't any blood. I remember thinking that Keith's head should be bleeding. There was no blood. He fell like a rag doll. There was no blood. Nothing really. He looked like he was asleep. My mom started screaming and Benji ran out. Keith…Jesus…Keith…there was no fucking blood…Oh Jesus! I can't do this…I can't…I'm sorry Grissom."

Sara ran from the living room and Grissom went after her. She slammed her bedroom door and he heard the lock click as his hand reached the knob. His heart raced as he resisted pounding on the door.

"Let me in, Sara! Please?"

"I can't, Grissom. I'm sorry."

TBC