Grissom sat at his desk with his brow furrowed in thought. He had just gotten off the phone with Nick and his thoughts were wrapped up in what to do about Sara. The way Nick had described the state of Sara's apartment when they had arrived had offered a great deal of insight into where she was coming from. Though Grissom had never been inside her apartment, Nick had indicated that the condition of it was almost a polar opposite from its normal condition. Grissom let out a deep sigh and took his glasses off, rubbing his temples just as Jim Brass appeared in his doorway.

"Rough night?" Brass asked as he came into Grissom's office and shut the door.

"Yeah." Grissom replaced his glasses and looked over at his longtime friend as he sat in the chair opposite his desk.

"I heard about Sara." Brass offered.

Grissom furrowed his brow with concern.

Brass lifted a hand. "Fromanski assured me that I was the only other person besides you he was telling."

Grissom looked perplexed. "He knows that she tried to jump?"

Brass looked confused. "I was talking about her being pulled over. What are you talking about?"

Grissom shook his head and rubbed his temples. "She threatened to jump off of the building last night. If Nick hadn't pulled her off of the railing, I'm not sure if she would be alive right now."

Brass looked shocked. "She what?"

"I'm not sure how to spell it out more clearly than that, Jim." Grissom replied. He was emotionally exhausted, and he was no where near close to being able to go home.

"Where is she now?" Brass looked very concerned as his thoughts turned to the conversation he'd had with Sara after he'd seen her popping cough drops to cover her breath.

"Nick took her home to see if he could get her to talk. I just got off the phone with him. He's staying with her to make sure she's not left alone." Grissom explained. He looked at Brass with a lost expression. "What am I going to do with her?"

"That's why you're the boss." Brass replied furrowing his brows together. "There are resources the department has."

"I suggested she see a counselor and she balked." Grissom sounded frustrated.

"Are you really surprised?" Brass let out a wry laugh. "She's the female version of you."

Grissom rolled his eyes slightly, but deep down knew that Brass was right. "Well, how am I supposed to convince her to talk to someone?"

"You don't." Brass replied.

Grissom looked a little confused.

Brass leaned forward and spoke in an almost conspiratorial tone. "You said Nick was talking to her. More than anyone on this team, he gets through to her. See if you can get Nick to convince her."

Grissom nodded. "Yeah, he said he was going to try."

------------

Nick had fallen asleep fully clothed on the couch and he was lying with one arm over his head and one leg off of Sara's couch.

Sara on the other hand had fallen asleep only to wake up again less than an hour and a half later. She lay in her bed for a while trying to decide whether she really wanted to wake Nick up. The entire night had been a bit overwhelming. She knew logically that it was good that he'd stayed, but at the moment, she just wanted to drink something to make her numb enough to not be able to think.

She pulled herself out of bed and padded out into the living room in her flannel pajama pants and tank top. She bit her lower lip as she looked at Nick sleeping and almost turned around and went back to her room rather than wake him up. But she also knew he'd be upset if she didn't. "Nick." Her voice was soft, but in the quiet seemed too loud.

He didn't stir.

"Nick." She called out a little louder.

Nick startled awake, blinking. "Sara." He sat straight up. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

She bit her lip nervously. "I couldn't sleep."

He rubbed his eyes to try and become more alert. "Nightmare?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

He motioned for her to sit next to him on the couch. "You want to tell me about it?"

"I don't know." Her voice caught in her throat.

Nick reached over and put his arm around her shoulder. "Sometimes it helps to say it out loud."

"I would think it'd make it worse." Sara sniffled.

He hugged her closer and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I suppose it depends on what it is."

"Can I ask you something?" Sara sniffled again.

"Yeah, anything." Nick replied. "Just as long as it's not about what kind of car I drive."

It took Sara a minute to remember the conversation they'd had about why Nick hated that question and then she let out a soft chuckle. "I know what kind of car you drive."

"See, then you can ask me anything." He let out a yawn as he smiled.

Sara let out a deep sigh. "How long did it take for the nightmares to go away?"

Nick considered her words for a moment. "They never go away completely. They just come less frequently."

"Nigel Crane is such a bastard for what he did to you." Sara's voice had an edge of anger in it. She slipped her arms around Nick's waist and hugged him.

They were both quiet for a few moments before Nick whispered into the silence. "Sara, tell me about your nightmare."

She sniffled. "Do you remember Pamela Adler?"

Nick furrowed his brow. The name at first didn't ring any bells, and then he remembered the case. Sara had been so obsessive about finding out who this woman was that they'd all been a little worried about her. In the end, because the woman had been too tough to die, the kid who was responsible for leaving her in a vegetative state had hardly served any jail time. "Yeah, I remember."

"Sometimes I see her face when I sleep, and then what I imagine is her voice." Sara sniffled again. "She's not the only one though."

Nick didn't say anything; he just hugged her and let her talk.

"I see Susanna Kirkwood lying there on the sidewalk in front of her house in a pool of her own blood and she's so still. There should have been something we could have done to help her, and we couldn't." Sara felt tears slipping down her cheeks. "Their voices haunt me when I try and sleep. They ask me why I didn't help, why they don't get justice."

Nick rested his cheek on top of her head. "I don't know what to say, Sara. Sometimes the system just sucks, but it's all we have."

Sara sniffled again. "Yeah, it does suck. Sometimes I wonder if what we do really makes a difference."

He was quiet for a moment. "We do make a difference, Sara. If we can stop one person from inflicting pain on another person, then we've made a difference. We can't heal the scars of the victims, but we can help prevent someone else from having scars in the first place."

There was such a passion in Nick's voice that it made Sara pause for a moment and think. "That sounds personal."

There was a catch in Nick's voice when he answered. "Isn't it for all of us?"