Part Two
After making sure that Sara was warm and settled on the couch, Grissom wandered into the kitchen for a moment, returning to the living room with a glass of scotch for himself and a bottle of water for Sara. He sat down beside her, adjusting the comforter from his bed she had insisted on bringing to the couch, and pulled her into his lap.
"Are you ready, Sara?"
For a few moments, Sara simply stared at the water bottle in her hands, picking aimlessly at the label. After a second she stopped and put the bottle down on the coffee table. She turned a little more in Gil's lap.
"The rest of this isn't going to be any easier for you to hear than it will be for me to tell, Griss," she said softly, cupping his face in her hands, "What happened to me... I- it made me-"
"Sara, I'm not leaving you, not now, not ever," Grissom said quickly, "Please, tell me."
After another ragged breath, Sara began the rest of her story.
"When Mark pulled his hand back to look at the wound I had inflicted, I kicked him as hard as I could in the chest. Granted, it wasn't very hard, I was tiny compared to him. But he stumbled, knocked off balance, and he fell backwards into my dresser. I remember watching the glass from the vanity mirror shatter and fall around him. I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could do... I ran."
Grissom drank down the entire glass of scotch quickly, feeling the harsh burn as it coated his throat on it's way to his stomach. Sara took the now empty glass and sat it on the table beside her water bottle. Leaning back into him, she sighed heavily and closed her eyes.
"I didn't know where to go, and I didn't think I could go home," Sara continued, "So I just kept running. I hitchhiked to San Francisco and I would've made it to Los Angeles if I hadn't been turned in. The last couple to pick me up, they were probably in the mid-forties, knew that there was something wrong with me. I was covered in bruises and the most I said to anyone was 'Can you take me to Los Angeles?'... They didn't just drop me off like everyone else, they took me to the police department, turned me in as a runaway."
Grissom felt Sara shudder harshly and he tightened his grip of her, pulling her closer to him and wrapping the blanket tighter around them both. Sara didn't speak for a few more minutes and Grissom felt her new tears as they seeped into the material of his T-shirt where her head rested on his shoulder.
Sniffling a little and rubbing her eyes on Gil's shoulder, Sara began again, "The first social worker I was introduced to spent four days trying to get me to tell her my name. I didn't want to tell her anything. I was terrified that they would send me home and my parents wouldn't want me. I had attacked my brother and I knew that they would believe him over me, my mom would never let anything happen to Mark."
"Did you go to foster care?" Grissom asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sara nodded against his shoulder, "For two months. The system isn't the same anymore. I was shipped around between three foster homes within those two months. The social worker finally figured out that I didn't want to be in a house with any boys and when I finally got to the third house, I was living with a nice family who already had four other adopted daughters. I only stayed with them for a week before Mr. Greenworth found me."
"Wait, the man from the lab?" Grissom asked, suddenly looking up at her.
"Yes, one and the same," Sara said, her voice sort of wistful, "He saved my life Grissom."
Grissom tightened his hold on her once more and urged her to continue.
"Jason Greenworth was introduced to me by my social worker as a private detective who had been hired by my mother and father to come and find me. Turns out my mother was hysterical worrying about me. She told Greenworth that she would do anything to get me back."
"Your mother must love you very much, honey," Grissom said quietly, nuzzling Sara's neck as she began to cry again.
"Things change, Gil," she said, hiccupping slightly as she cried harder.
Grissom suddenly stood up, taking Sara and the blanket with him. He started down the hallway, cradling Sara in his arms as she cried.
"Tell me the rest later, sweetheart, you need to rest."
Grissom sat beside his bed, a forensic journal open in his lap, watching Sara sleep. He knew that she never slept straight through the night. Her nightmares caused her sleep to be fitful and she would often wake up in the middle of the afternoon, not long after they had gone to bed, crying out for him more often then not.
Today he watched her sleep soundly for only the second time since they had started sharing a bed. Five months, Grissom thought. He and Sara had been seeing each other personally for five months, after he had been hit with the idea that he may one day lose her. He was happy with the way things were.
For a few minutes Grissom didn't take his eyes off of the long-legged brunette lying face down in his bed. Her hair was fanned out across her pillow and he could hear her breathing softly. I may never have heard that sound, Grissom thought, I could've lost my hearing... I could've lost her.
Sara stirred slightly and Grissom didn't take his gaze off of her face. He watched as she rolled away from him, causing the covers to slid down to her waist, and he was blessed with a glimpse of the tattoo on her lower back. A small star, outlined in black and filled in with a rainbow of colors. God, did he love that tattoo. He refocused back on her whole form when she suddenly shifted positions again. She was having another nightmare.
Grissom moved the journal to the nightstand and stood, moving to the side of the bed.
"Sara, sweetheart, wake up," he said softly, "I'm here. Wake up."
His name spilled from her lips as nothing more than a sigh and he reached out to her, touching her shoulder softly. Sara stiffened under his touch and she moved away from him, still deeply in sleep. Grissom stood then, leaving the room for a few minutes, and returning with a bottle of water. He sat down beside Sara, raising his voice slightly as she spoke to her this time.
"Sara, wake up."
She struggled now against his touch and she called out more audibly now, "Gil, help me... please."
They had been through this routine many times but listening to her cry out for him broke his heart every time. He knew that Sara's life had been traumatic, he had learned that the hard way, but each time she was racked with these nightmares, horrible reminders of the things that she had been through, he knew that she would be in emotional turmoil for days.
"Sara, honey, I'm here, it's just a nightmare. Wake up," Grissom command, now shaking her a little more forcefully.
Sara's tantrum stopped suddenly and her eyes fluttered open.
"Gil?" she muttered.
Grissom ran his fingers through her hair, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. She smiled softly through the remnants of sleep and rolled over beneath him. He leaned down to kiss her lips, sitting up slightly and brushing hair from her face.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
Sara frowned a little and closed her eyes, "I need to get it out, Gil. You need to know the rest so that I- we- can get past this."
Grissom slid an arm under Sara's back and the other under her knees and lifted her easily off the bed, sliding back in beside her after he had set her down. Sliding into his arms, Sara rested her head on Grissom's chest and closed her eyes, beginning once again to retell the story of the trauma that changed her life to the man that she now shared it with.
"Jason Greenworth was the first person to believe I hadn't done anything wrong," Sara said, "He was given my medical records from when my social worker took me to the hospital and it was obvious that I had been abused... you and I both know that fractures that have healed incorrectly show up later in x-rays... I spent another three weeks in foster care while I went through psychiatric evaluations."
Sara turned more to bury her face in Grissom's shoulder, muffling her words as an on-slaught of memories haunted her.
"When I was finally cleared to go home, I said goodbye to the family I'd been living with and Greenworth came to personally make sure that I made it home to my parents. He told me, in the car on the drive back to Tomales Bay, that Mark had been arrested. He was in custody for assault and attempted rape. I think that Greenworth waited until he had me in the car before he told me... he was probably worried that I would try to run away again."
Tears were soaking into Gil's shirt now and he squeezed Sara gently to reassure her. She sniffled slightly, sighing as she leaned back into the pillows.
"I wish this wasn't so hard," she muttered, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
"You don't have to tell me right now, honey," Grissom told her
"I know, I know," Sara replied, sitting up against the headboard now, "But I need to get it out before I lose my nerve."
"Then tell me, Sara. I won't leave you, I'll be right here."
Silence fell over them and Grissom could tell that Sara was composing her thoughts. This wasn't easy for her, it had to be the most painful thing that she had experienced in life and he did not want to watch her go through something more or as painful ever again. And he did not want to ever be the source of her pain. He had had enough of that.
"Sara-"
"After Greenworth told me about Mark, I cried. I begged him not to make me go home, I told him that my mother wouldn't want me, I just wanted someone to want me...," Sara's voice broke and she grew quiet for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm herself. "My parents met us at the Bed and Breakfast. My mother had insisted on selling our house... she didn't want to be anywhere near the scene of the crime. When Greenworth dropped me off, my dad was ecstatic. He held me so tight and kept crying, telling me that he loved me and that he would never let anything happen to me ever again. But my mom... my mom wouldn't touch me. I was spoiled goods, she didn't want me anymore. I had taken away Mark. I had ruined our family."
The look on Grissom's face broke Sara's heart all over again. He was hurting for her, she could see it in his eyes. Sara had been skeptical about the way that he would take her past, whether he could still love her or not. The evidence was clear on his face. He loved her.
"My mother never said that out loud, but it wasn't like she hid it. She could never seem to look me in the eye after that," Sara said, "And then came the trial."
