Hello! Such feedback I am getting. I should address what I can. First, I am sorry for describing California as barren. I am a Minnesota girl where three seasons are very lush and green and mostly tree filled except for the plains in the south. I have been in the bay area, but mostly south of San Fran. Remembered San Jose to be sort of brown. Sorry!

Also, there is some confusion about Sofia. Long fic. No one's fault but my own. In the first chapter, it is revealed that Sofia answered Grissom's phone when Sara called in order to embarrass her thereby alerting Sara to the fact that he went with Sofia to Palm Springs for the weekend. Shocking, no? Yes, they did have sex…in my fic, but of course I didn't document such a travesty. I started this fic right after Unbearable which was unbearable to watch.

Also there is concern that Grissom should be with Sara as she heals. Methinks no. She is seeking treatment, and she has to untangle issues that involve him. So they are doing it this way.

Elliot Cusack and Rupert Goodwater are merely figments of my imagination. They are not players on the actual show, WaT.

Please don't stop with the feedback, critical or otherwise. It tells me that you are reading, and that means a great deal to me. Thanks for being here with me. It is making my busy life more bearable.

Next chapter will be Wednesday or Thursday morning.

sheila

Chapter 19

Afraid of the Light

Grissom stepped gingerly over the yellow tape to the crime scene. Behind him walked a deputy carrying his kit. A large FBI agent named Goodwater had greeted him at the car, and, in booming twang, was guiding him across the yard. Grissom was bemused by the agent who was treating him as one would a long lost relative.

"This way, Grissom. We saved every last critter for you. Nothing's been touched. Had one of my men take about a zillion shots of those bugs for you. Going to be able to work okay with that bad wing, are you?"

Grissom arched a brow at the man. "I should be fine. I have everything I need."

"We want to do this right. These girls are due some respect about now. I understand you are familiar with this case. We caught quite a break getting you out here, you knowing the case and being a bugman and all."

"Robbie Sanchez has confessed?"

"Hell, yes. Didn't bring any flip flops to the interrogation, but got the story out of him anyway."

"Flip flops?" Grissom looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"In reference to your gal, Sidle. How's she doing? She broke this case right open, you know." Goodwater slapped him on the back.

"I believe she is doing well." Grissom got stiffer with every step.

"Well, you tell her that we owe her a debt. I have been working these serial cases for twenty years. There's nothing like that the thrill of catching one of these assholes. And the fact that she got to rough up one of them, well, that's just icing on the cake. Once they're in federal custody, we got to treat 'em better than grandma on her 90th birthday."

"I'll be sure to send your regards."

Goodwater walked ahead waving his arms at the agents crowding the dig site. "Hey Boys and Girls! Make room. We got a bugman. He needs his space."

Agents scattered in his wake. Grissom winced at the attention as Goodwater loudly made his presence known. Goodwater was pointing and gesturing about the site, sending agents scrambling in all directions. Then he turned to Grissom. "You sure you have everything? You need one thing, you just holler and one of my folks will get you set right up. You hear?"

Grissom managed a tight smile before edging away toward the dig site. Goodwater chuckled and walked away. Grissom turned to find six eager agents frozen waiting for him to give the word. He cocked his head at the hot sun, let his eyes travel the area of the dig, scratched at the back of his neck, and then started barking orders.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"He's a small man like his father." Danny said as he watched Robbie Sanchez being brought in for arraignment on CNN. He leaned forward as the man was herded into a courthouse amidst a crowd of agents. Sara stared at the screen silently. She had pulled an afghan across her legs, and was twisting tightly at the corner of it.

A disembodied voice told a grisly story of kidnapped girls and buried bodies, and the camera turned to a small house on the edge of town. It was a yellow house surrounded by yellow dust and sand. Crews of people with shovels and FBI emblazoned on their jackets were working methodically in the backyard of the house. A large agent was waving away reporter's requests for interviews.

Elliot reached over and clicked the T.V. off. Then the three of them sat in silence.

Sara turned to Danny. "Do you remember what he looked like?"

"Well, he was standing over me with a shotgun so I have images, but it was raining, and so what I remember is mostly a blur."

"I don't remember his face at all."

"Is that a good thing?" Elliot asked.

"I don't know. Is it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know either, Sara."

"Jack said that they found him based on the interview you did with Corcoran." Danny nudged her with his shoulder.

Sara chuckled. "That was no interview. From now on, we refer to that as Sara's psychotic adventure."

Elliot shook her head. "You weren't psychotic when you went in there. You went in because you believed that this was a way to help other girls and their families. You went in thinking that it would help you heal. Pretty noble stuff, Sara."

Sara snorted. "It was stupid, not noble."

"Makes me wonder if you are not the knight in shining armor yourself."

Danny grinned. "I like that, Elliot. Good work!"

"Let's not get carried away, people." Sara folded her arms tightly against her chest.

"Hell, why not? The only one who wants to see you as a crazy person is you. The rest of us see a pretty amazing woman."

"Elliot—"

"Sara, they pay me for this, okay."

"So, you don't mean it?"

"No, I'm just playing your game." Elliot winked at her.

"She got you there, Sara." Danny nodded his head up and down.

"Sara, at some point you are going to have to face the fact that the biggest dragon in your life that needs slaying is the one you create to punish yourself."

Sara sat, stunned.

"Hatfield, Alberto, and Robbie Sanchez have no problem invading a psyche that is already so pummeled with what you have done to yourself."

Sara wrinkled her face in anger and looked at Elliot. "So you're telling me that I am just doing all of this to myself."

Elliot shook her head. "Sara, I am saying that you don't protect yourself emotionally. You went in there to help others, but also because you were impatient with your fears. Even now, after your efforts saved lives, the only word you can use to describe your actions is 'stupid'. Think about it."

Sara scrunched her face up in confusion.

"You're the knight in shining armor for the people who are victimized like you once were, but you're never the princess who deserves to be saved."

"I can't afford to be weak."

"Can you afford to be loved? Truly loved? Taken care of? Cherished?"

Sara rubbed angrily at her eyes. Danny grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

"Sara, you were abused, kidnapped, starved, deprived. And that was just last week. In your life, you have witnessed horrible things, and you have sentenced yourself to a life of righting wrongs that you had no part in committing. That is you."

Sara bit her lip as sobs tried to escape.

"If you and I were working on a case together, and we heard a victim's story and it was the same as what you have experienced, you know what you'd say?"

Sara shook her head.

"Well, the two of us would be having a conversation about how this survivor needs all the love, care, and tenderness possible in order to recover. And you would be backing that idea all the way. But you, my friend, only allow that kind of compassion for others. Your own pain signals messages of weakness and insanity and stupidity. You offer such kindness for the people you serve. Why don't you deserve it too?"

"I don't know." The words came out in a burst of emotion.

"Think about it, Honey." Elliot reached out and hugged her tightly. Then she got up. "I'm going to make you some tea, and you can sit here with Danny boy and watch movies. Don't stress yourself. Just think about it as it comes to you. Tomorrow, you can tell me some of those thoughts. They don't have to be solutions, just ideas, okay?"

Sara nodded. Elliot walked over to her DVD case and shuffled through. "We need to find something safe to watch. We have Godfather I and II—very violent, Casino—violent and Vegas, Jaws—a fish serial killer- no, Silence of the Lam—oops, definitely not, ah…Tootsie…Hey, any of those assholes do any cross dressing?"

Sara shook her head.

"Well that's what you're watching then." Elliot threw the DVD at Danny and disappeared into the kitchen.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

The road side bar was located about a block down from the motel where law enforcement was housed. After dusk, officers and agents wandered down to the bar for the burgers and beer. Grissom followed them, his leather satchel slung over his shoulder.

He wandered into the smoky bar and wrinkled his nose. The foggy air irritated him. He shuffled onto the back of the bar and found a table in the corner. He sat down and pulled papers out of his bag. A skinny blonde waitress showed up, and thrust a menu at him. He handed it back to her and told he wanted a beer and the special.

He returned to his notes chronicling the life cycles on the insects he had recovered from the corpses. Some of the notations didn't seem congruent on one of the corpses and he was looking for a pattern to emerge.

A beer bottle slammed on the table covered by a meaty hand. Grissom looked up to find the indomitable Agent Goodwater standing in front of him. Goodwater pulled up a chair and sat down across from Grissom.

"Mind if I join you for a moment?"

Grissom gathered up his notes and put them back into his satchel. "What can I do for you, Agent Goodwater?"

"Just wanted a few minutes with someone who doesn't want my job one day." Goodwater waved over the waitress. "Two more, sweetie, and keep 'em coming."

"How'd the arraignment go?"

"Good. But Robbie's a slippery one. I am not sure we know everything we need to about him."

Grissom took off his glasses. "Oh?"

"He hints at more. Says he wants to talk to your gal, Sara Sidle. Says he will tell her things."

Grissom stiffened immediately and spoke to Goodwater in a low voice. "Not going to happen. Do you understand me?"

Goodwater grinned. "I am way ahead of you partner. Wouldn't put her through something like that again no matter what the payoff. There have to be limits."

Grissom sighed and visibly relaxed.

"I did throw him a bone. Told him you were here. I think I peaked his curiosity. Interested in taking a shot at him?"

Grissom shrugged. "I'm not sure what I can do. I had mixed results with Corcoran."

"Why don't you come in with me tomorrow? We'll do the interview together."

"Okay." Grissom looked up and gave a thin smile to the waitress as she put the burger special in front of him.

"Those bugs gonna help us?"

Grissom nodded, his mouth full of food.

"Good. This is the hardest part, you know. You get the bastard, but then you gotta sit around and clean up his mess. Already I've got almost 300 missing person files on my desk, and getting calls from detectives across the country every hour with more girls." Goodwater shook his head and took another swig off his bottle.

"Twenty years is a long time to be in serial crime."

A grin pulled at one side of the man's craggy face. "Glutton for punishment, I guess. Believe or not, I started out as a cop in Jersey. Brought my rural ass up there 'cause I wanted to be a big city cop. Got one helluva education. I will tell you that."

"How'd you get interested in serial crime at the bureau?" Grissom found the gregarious man to be of more substance than he originally thought.

"Long story. Suffice it to say, I wasn't even sure I wanted to stay in law enforcement after Jersey was done with me. But the FBI happened to be in the right place at the right time. I got in right when Ted Bundy turned serial crime into the next big thing. Had to be part of the excitement. And I just never left." There was a wistfulness to his narrative.

"What keeps you going?"

Goodwater set his mouth in thought, and then dug around in his back pocket. He pulled out a wallet, rifled around inside, and picked out a slightly tattered photo. Grissom took it from him. There was a beautiful blonde woman holding two little Asian girls.

"Those are my girls. Hard to believe that a big ol' gomer like myself could hook up with this classy trio, but it's true. So I don't ask any deep questions about life, and just thank my lucky stars every day for what I have."

"You have a lovely family."

"Yup. I guess I do this all for them. It's hard to be away, but my wife wants me to do something I think is important, and I still get to talk to my girls every night before they get to sleep."

"Adopted?"

"Oh, yeah. Pregnancies are dangerous for my wife. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my little Chinese girls."

Grissom grinned a little and shook his head. "You're in your fifties."

"Never too late, bugman. I will go into my golden years watching my girls grow, and I'll love every minute of it. You have kids, wife?"

Grissom shook his head. "I guess I'm married to my career."

"Career doesn't keep you warm at night. A smart man like yourself ought to know that."

Grissom folded his hands in front of him. "I think you're lucky, Goodwater. My situation is different, I'm afraid. I do care for someone, but it's complicated."

Goodwater threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Grissom, son, you don't know complicated. I guarantee you that I have a Ph.-Friggin'-D in complicated relationships."

"You care to elaborate on that?" Grissom was a little annoyed with Goodwater's arrogance.

"Call me Rupert, please." His face was pink from laughing.

"Okay, Rupert, care to elaborate?"

Goodwater's cell phone went off, and he grabbed it off his belt. His gruff greeting into the receiver changed immediately. He began talking in patient, simple sentences to someone about tea parties, pink, frilly pajamas, and Winnie the Pooh videos. His face softened and a dreamy smile played on his lips. He waved absently at Grissom and wandered out the door to talk to his girls in the moonlight under a street light. Grissom followed him with his eyes until he disappeared and was left with a feeling in his gut that there was a good deal more to know about Rupert Goodwater.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Sara sat at the top of a hill and watched Jack Malone emerge from a sedan. Elliot came down the steps and gave him a big hug. Together they disappeared into the cabin. Sara turned to Danny and smiled. "You going to go back with him?"

"Yup. Need to start some physical therapy. Get back to my apartment, my life."

"Elliot asked me to stay a couple more days. Says our conversation is not finished."

"Good. I'm glad. Already you seem so much better."

She looped her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. "You're a good friend, Danny."

"I know. Everyone says so." He grinned while she giggled.

She stopped and searched his dark eyes for a moment. "Why is it so easy for me to be with you?"

Danny shrugged. "We understand each other. Respect each other."

"And if it wasn't for Grissom?"

Danny's eyebrows raised. "Only you can answer that question, Sara."

She bit her lip and sighed. "If Grissom was not my focus, I think you and I would be passionate lovers and ecstatically happy right now. It would be great. And then in a few months, I think we would wonder why we had ruined such a great friendship. That's what I think."

"Hmm. Well, I have heard of worse ways to break up a friendship."

"I need someone in my life like you; someone who knows what it is like to face the world alone when you are only a child. You understand the struggles that still exist for me. You know my fears. I have always felt so isolated, and then you came into my life, and I feel almost like I have a brother."

"That works for me too. Let me tell you something. Okay?" Danny turned to face her, taking her hands in his. "You need to remember what Elliot has said to you because you deserve everything you are so willing to give to others. And let me tell you something about Grissom." He let out a heavy sigh. "He's good for you. I don't know why exactly, but I really believe that. He would do anything for you. I think that both of you have wasted too much time overanalyzing what this relationship is and what it should be. I think your heart tells you everything you need to know."

"I don't think I am coming to New York to live."

He nodded. "You always can come visit."

"And you'll come to Vegas?"

"Do you have any showgirl friends?" He grinned.

She slapped his shoulder.

"Jack doesn't like to be kept waiting." Danny looked at her.

She pulled him into a tight hug. "Take care, Danny Taylor. You hear? I still need you."

He got up and extended a hand to her. "You coming?"

She shook her head. "Give Jack my regards. I think I just want to sit up here for a while."

She watched him make his way down the hill and into the cabin. She pulled her knees up to her chin, and let the wind blow hair across her face.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

Robbie was shackled at his hands and ankles. The orange jumpsuit left his skin looking sallow and pale. The stubble of an unshaven face belied his youth. Still only in his mid twenties and already on his way to becoming a serial killing legend. Eight bodies recovered in his back yard. The kid didn't even have a parking ticket on his record.

The deputy roughing pushed him at a chair, and he stumbled into it, slumping down. Grissom didn't see much of his father in him. He seems five younger than he was, and he didn't have the hard face of his father.

Goodwater waved the deputy out of the room. Then he got up, went over to the kid, and helped settle him into the chair. The kid looked up with a dark stare. Grissom stared back at him.

"All right, Robbie. You comfortable 'cause you know I am all about your comfort." Goodwater circled the room away from the kid. "Brought you a visitor, Robbie. This is Dr. Gilbert Grissom. He was part of the team that got your dad and that little freak, Corcoran. Thought you might like to meet him."

Robbie cocked his head and stared at Grissom without shame. "Hello, Dr. Grissom." Then he turned back to Goodwater. "I wanted to see Sara."

Grissom opened his mouth, but Goodwater got there first. "Robbie, we're going to leave that idea to your nightly dreams 'cause she's not coming anywhere near you ever."

"I was only going to talk to her. I know her. Spent time with her, you know."

"Never going to happen." Grissom's voice was low and slow.

"You must hate that I saw her like that; vulnerable, suffering, afraid. I touched her when she was unconscious. My father and I discussed how to best make her scream when it was time."

Grissom was paralyzed by the young man's words. It was all he could do to stay in control.

"Shut up, Robbie. Your Hannibal Lector routine is boring. Can't pull it off with your baby face and average IQ." Goodwater growled at him from the corner of the room. "Nobody gives a fig about what you almost did to her, because she beat you guys, made you and your dad look like the gang who couldn't shoot straight. Hell, if she was here, she'd just look at your sorry, handcuffed ass and laugh."

Goodwater's words pulled Grissom out of his rage. "Did you want to see me so you could tell me what you failed to do?"

"I bet you have the all figured out, Dr. Grissom, don't you? In your mind, you have already solved this whole thing."

"Oh, no, I still have questions. My bugs are the ones asking them. The larvae on the two decomposing corpses near the top have varied life cycles. This is not what I usually see in a situation like this. So I definitely do have questions."

"What do you think it means?"

Grissom took a deep breath. "I think there are more bodies, at least two more. And I think you moved them."

Goodwater sucked in air. For a moment, there was silence. Robbie sat back and relaxed. Goodwater exploded. "Well, Robbie, what do you say? Is it true?"

Robbie gazed at Grissom. "How many, Grissom? I want to know how many you think there are."

Grissom thought for a moment. "There are two, Robbie. Why did you move them?"

"Because they were too near the surface. Dogs were digging."

Grissom licked his lips. "Where did you put them?"

Robbie just stared, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

Goodwater slammed his fist on the table in front of Robbie. "So help me God, if you play a game with us, I will make your misery my personal mission in life."

"I was going to bury them in the corner of the yard, but I decided not to."

"Tell us more, Robbie." Grissom spoke in a whisper.

"I want to show you. It's the best."

Goodwater laughed. "I bet you do. CNN covering it live, helicopters following you while you point to where you buried those poor girls, searing you into the memories of people forever. You sure are ready for your 15 minutes, aren't you?"

"They aren't in the backyard." Robbie said.

Grissom rubbed his beard. "What do you want?"

"I want you to go with me. Just you. I will take you to the girls."

Goodwater snorted. "Is that all, Robbie? Maybe I should get you some nice running shoes."

Robbie looked at him. "You can come too. You can walk behind us."

"Why do you want to do this?"

"I want to walk the soil one last time. I want to say good-bye."

"Robbie, if this is some kind of joke, I will kill you with my bare hands on live T.V. and walk away to the thunderous applause of every agent on site."

"We do it early tomorrow. At dawn. You show us where you put those girls." Grissom finished and got up, walking out of the room without a backward glance.

Goodwater folded his arms. "See what a downer you are, Robbie. Usually he hugs everyone when he leaves. You ruined that for me. You hear?"

……………………………………………………………………

TBC