Disclaimer: These characters are the property of CBS, inc.

Spoiler: Unbearable

Sorry so late. Been busy. I work full time, teach at a local college, and just got into a doctoral program. I am under the impression that I can do absolutely everything at the same time. Wonder how long that will last. I know it's dark and scary, but I hope you are hanging in there. I hope to keep it interesting for you all. Your reviews keep me writing, and so I thank you very much.

Sheila

Chapter 8

Afraid of the Light

Catherine organized the last kit of samples, and carried it over to the squad. Warrick and Nick were leaning against the car.

"You're all packed up, guys." Catherine clapped her hands together.

"We should stay." Nicky packed it into the trunk.

"I need you to go with this evidence. Make sure it gets back safe. Make sure it's processed quickly."

Warrick folded his arms across his chest. "Catherine, they are waiting for it. It couldn't get better attention."

Catherine shook her head. "But I trust you. This is how you can help her."

"You're staying?"

"Yeah. Somebody has to. I don't think Grissom can do it…if it comes down to it."

Nicky looked away and swallowed hard.

"You guys gotta go. They're holding the flight for you."

Warrick gestured his head at Nick. Nick shook his head, but followed Warrick into the squad. Doors closed, lights flashed, sirens sounded, and the vehicle kicked up dust as it sped away from the ranch.

Catherine stood there, hands in her pockets, watching the vehicle wind along the dusty road and then disappears behind a hill. She sighed and turned around. Grissom was standing there looking at her.

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"Because I'm staying." She walked past him.

"I need you at the lab." He turned to follow.

"No, you need me here. I can help."

He threw his hands up in the air. "We have all the trace that's in that house. It needs to be processed."

"Warrick and Nick will take care of it." She stopped on the front porch and leaned against the old wooden railing.

"There's nothing to do here, Catherine." He followed her onto the porch. She folded her arms across her chest and stood there, a look of determination on her face. Grissom stared at her for a moment in confusion. Then a transformation as he realized what was really going on. He turned and walked away from her.

"You're here because you don't want me to process her body…if we find her dead."

She walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think you should do it."

"But you can?" He turned and fixed her with a glare.

"Yes, I can show her the dignity she deserves. You don't want a stranger. And you…well, you shouldn't be the one to do it."

He snorted and turned away from her. His voice came in a low growl. "I don't want to talk to you about this."

Catherine hesitated, anxiously chewing on her lips as she thought. Finally she stepped forward and gently put her hand on his shoulder. "Gil, you are my best friend, and I don't know what to do. The only thing I can think to do is to protect you."

"But you can't Catherine." Grissom mumbled this last piece before walking away. She watched him leave the porch and wander off down the road.

"Ahem." Catherine turned to see Jack Malone standing there.

"Can I do something for you?" She couldn't keep the irritation out of her voice.

He shook his head. "Nope. Think I'll take a walk." He smiled at her, and then followed Grissom down the road.

………………………………………………...

Grissom knew he was being followed and was irritated by this. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts no matter how macabre they might be. He thought about speeding up, but settled for turning around with an angry look on his face. Malone was entirely unperturbed by his energy leaving Grissom to wonder what the New York agents might face if not swayed by his patented looks of disapproval.

"I'd prefer to be alone right now."

"Yeah, I need to talk to you about the case."

Grissom sucked in a breath. "You know something?"

Jack stopped short. "No. I don't. I wanted to say that I think that he and Sara are nearby. I went over the reports of how long the girls were unconscious with chloroform, and consulted with your Doc Robins. Hatfield's timeline tells us that Sara was already unconscious for ten hours when he arrived here. Robins thinks she would only stay under another 6 which makes me think that they pick this spot so that he can get her and move her quickly. He doesn't want to risk her waking up during the drive, and struggling with him once he gets to his place."

"Presuming he doesn't like to struggle with her."

"He doesn't, Gil. He waits until they are half starved so that he doesn't have to work hard. The earlier girls were better nourished, and girl number two Frederika had far more contusions than the other girls. I think Frederika gave him a very hard time. I think he is not a large or strong man; someone about Hatfield's size. Hatfield is perfect for him. He has all of the right perversions plus he doesn't present an intimidating counterpart to himself."

"Your line of reasoning follows well." Grissom nodded.

"I think after Frederika, he took more precautions. He was embarrassed by the trouble she gave him. It was counter to his perceptions of his own power and control. So he creates conditions where there is less potential for struggle. He starves them and he keeps them unconscious until he stores them."

"You talk like they're…." His voice trailed off.

"I'm in his head now. You know that. This case has gotten too personal for you."

Grissom smiled. "It is."

"You're in love with her."

Grissom's face colored and he looked away.

"I'm not trying to expose you. I just want you to know that I understand this…from personal experience."

Grissom arched one brow. "Really?"

"Yeah. Her name is Sam. She works in my unit. Great agent. Tough. Smart. Committed. I imagine Sara is much the same."

Grissom nodded slowly.

"I was stupid. Had an affair with her. I was married at the time. I hurt everyone with it. Sam, my now ex-wife, my two daughters."

"So you understand that I could never get too close to her."

"Yeah, I do. My life is certainly a cautionary tale of the dangers of interoffice romance."

Grissom nodded again, and started to turn, ready to resume his walk down the road.

"Gil, before you go, I want you to know that I am sorry I hurt everyone, but I'm not sorry it happened." Malone shifted uncomfortably.

Grissom wrinkled his brow at him.

"I loved her; probably still do. I just don't allow myself to think about it. But I can't be sorry about the love we shared. It was…wonderful."

"What are you telling me?"

"You're not married, Gil. You have no family to betray. You have a potentially awkward work situation, but that's all."

"You're a nosy bastard, you know that, Jack."

"We both know that the odds of finding her alive are not in her favor. So, of course, we are infused with thoughts about how precious life is; how it shouldn't be wasted. I'm just saying that it shifts our perspective on things."

"Does it shift your perspective on Sam?"

"You are not the only one battling fears about hurting someone. I think that I hurt her too much to try again."

"Before Sara was taken, I think we were at that point as well."

"So we stay paralyzed by our fears?" Jack said.

"You first, Malone. Call me when you open up to Sam, and then I'll take your cue and try it with Sara."

"So who's trying to live vicariously through whom?"

"You started it." Grissom managed a sad grin, and then lost it slowly. "Right now, this conversation is merely academic. She's still out there, and we don't even know if she's breathing."

"Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

Grissom thought for a moment. "Truth is, I appreciate that someone around here can speak about her in the present tense."

"You grow up Catholic, Gil?"

Grissom nodded.

"Guilt's a bitch, isn't it?"

Grissom closed his eyes.

"Couple of grouchy, old men like ourselves want someone young and beautiful, but we have to shed our guilt first, don't we? They don't deserve our baggage."

He shook his head. "Call me when you figure that out, Malone." Grissom turned and resumed his walk, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Jack watched him disappear behind a hill.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

He had been calling her for three hours to no response. All he could see of her were her knees sticking out, and one hand that lay limp over the bed frame. He studied it carefully for any kind of conscious movement, but there was none. He cursed himself. His fear of Sara's will caused him to leave her alone too long. She would be no fun if she wasn't even conscious. He wondered if he had enough IV saline solution. He could tie her to a chair, and feed her the electrolytes until she was lucid again. He thrashed about the room in frustration. The set-up would take time, and he was feeling impatient. Finally he stalked off to collect the needed supplies.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Brass grabbed his phone out of his suit pocket. He listened carefully, pacing back and forth across the room. Danny furled his brow and hissed at him to say who it was. Brass ignored him. The only words out of his mouth were, "Are you sure?" Danny looked poised to snatch the phone from him at the earliest opportunity.

Brass pulled the phone off his ear and held it to his chest. "DNA came up a match for an Alberto Sanchez, Mexican National. One count of attempted rape in the first degree two years ago, California. Still waiting for Mexico to respond with information." Brass put the phone back on his ear.

Danny jumped up off the sofa arm where he was perched. "Last known address!" he demanded. Brass waved him away.

Then he cupped his phone again and spoke. "Cath says that they are trying to get more information out of your family, but they are busy and won't prioritize it. Can you talk to Mom and Dad, Danny?"

Danny grabbed his phone and punched in numbers. Soon he had the database people on the phone. He dispensed with greetings, and launched into the situation. He pleaded, threatened, and shouted them down until Jack came into the room and got briefed. He strode across the room, took the phone from Danny, introduced himself, demanded the information within the hour, and hung up.

Danny glared at him.

"Finesse, Danny, finesse." He shook his head. "Not everyone responds to street logic."

Danny narrowed his eyes.

Jack arched his brows. "Who are you looking at, Agent Taylor? Get going. Brass needs help. We'll set up headquarters here at the ranch, and create a perimeter of 100 miles in all directions. We need to coordinate with the locals, and bring our boys for support. Got it?"

Danny turned and sprinted for the living room.

"Danny!" he called before he got through the door. Danny stopped and turned.

"They did tell me they had already agreed to prioritize the information before I got on the phone. They were trying to tell you that when I grabbed the phone. Nevertheless, you remember the old adage; honey attracts more flies than vinegar."

A smile crept onto Danny's cool face. "Must have been written with you in mind." Without waiting for a response, he disappeared into the next room.

Jack smiled a little and wondered if he had been any different as a young agent. So much of Danny reminded him of himself.

………………………………………………………………………………….

TBC