A Trial of the Heart: Chapter five

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Feeling hope can seem so far away
Thinking... It's good to find
Would you really let this go to waste?
Would it really change your life?

-Paloalto 'The World Outside'.

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Processing was a slow, methodical progress. It didn't comfort Sara, like it normally did. Taking steps to solve a case usually calmed her and helped to focus her, but this crime scene merely incensed her carefully concealed rage even further.

The cell where their electrocution victim had been found reeked of burnt flesh, and she shivered as she snapped some overall photographs. She felt Greg pause in the adjoining cell, staring down at something intently.

She turned to look at him, frowning slightly. "Okay, Greggo?"

He cleared his throat, straightening quickly. He had come a long way since his days in the lab, but she knew he felt like he was still constantly proving himself, and hated to be caught in a moment of weakness. "Yeah. I just… I can't believe what people can do to one another sometimes".

She pursed her lips together grimly, returning to her work as she marvelled at the truth of his words. "Neither can I, Greg".

"Sanders! My office, RIGHT NOW!"

Greg's head whipped up, and he stopped mid-conversation with Mia, barely able to catch sight of Grissom's irate expression before he stormed further down the hall.

Greg exchanged an uneasy glance with the new DNA tech, feeling his palms clam up with sweat. It had been a long time since he had witnessed Grissom so angry, and even longer since it had been directed at him. The old boss was a rare sight these days, and he wasn't sure if he should be reassured by the sudden reversion to normalcy or afraid for his life.

He swallowed; bracing himself as he started down the hall, and slowly rounded the corner for Grissom's small office.

He cleared his throat when he saw the tense man seated behind his desk, flipping forcefully through a random casefile.

"Uh, you called… boss?"

Greg practically squirmed under the sudden fury directed his way. As discreetly as he could, he closed the door behind him, feeling the tension suffusing the room pick up several notches.

"Is there something seriously wrong with you, Greg?" his supervisor asked, voice low and monotonous.

Greg blinked. That wasn't exactly what he had expected. "I uh, well… what?"

"What could have possibly made you think it was a good idea to take Sara to see Marni Mullins?"

Greg closed his eyes. Oh. Damn. Grissom had always intimidated him, but his concern for Sara overrode his instinct for self-preservation and he pushed on foolishly. "She asked", he said helplessly.

Grissom stared at him like he had lost his mind. "I don't care if she asked", he said tightly. "Do you really think Sara knows what is best for her own recovery right now?"

"Look, I just wanted to help her…"

"By letting her see the victim she could have become?" Grissom exploded, rising to his feet. "I thought spending the last day in her apartment would have been enough to convince you she isn't handling this well!"

Greg bit back a retort. He knew Grissom wasn't handling that scenario well. "Grissom, she's handling this in her own way. It may not be the way you envisioned, but she's dong the best she can".

Grissom looked like he was going to something seriously violent, and Greg momentarily wondered if he was even capable of it. He considered taking a step back before he forced himself not to display such a blatant weakness, and he stiffened, coiled tight with wound up tension.

The older man's eyes widened as if he realised what he had been about to do, and he suddenly sagged in resignation, putting one hand over his face. "Just… just get out of my office, Greg. Please"

Greg really didn't need to be told twice. He backed out into the hall, inwardly wondering when Grissom was going to acknowledge his own demons and deal with the trauma he had suffered, and when he was going to face up to Sara himself instead of using Greg as a faltering go-between.

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"Do you need a hand?"

Sara glanced back at the hesitant nurse with a wan smile, slowly shaking her head. "No, I think I should do this alone. Thanks."

The nurse shrugged, returning to her station, and Sara braced herself before striding through the door in front of her.

Marni Mullins was flat on her back on the starch white bed, heavily sedated. Her glazed eyes studied the ceiling, and Sara hesitantly approached her, lowering her kit to the floor.

"Hi, Marni. I'm Sara, do you remember me?"

The woman's eyes barely darted in her direction, and Sara heaved a sorrowful sigh, snapping on her latex gloves.

"That's okay if you don't want to talk, you're probably tired, right?"

She pulled the hard plastic chair over beside the bed, and perched on the edge, carefully removing several swabs from her kit. "I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable, but I need to do a few things that might feel a little strange, okay? I'll be gentle, I promise".

Talking to someone who was still warm but who wasn't responding was starting to unnerve her, and she hesitated before withdrawing a metal tool to scrape beneath her fingernails.

Marni hovered impossibly small and frail under the blankets, and Sara swallowed as her eyes unconsciously took in her injuries. The nurses claimed she had been suffering vivid hallucinations before they were forced to sedate her, and since she had remained on the fringes of consciousness, muttering incoherently.

Sara continued processing her, wincing as Marni hissed when she examined the bruises under her neck. She was infused with a similar feeling of rage when she encountered a particularly depraved case. This was… one of the worse things she had ever seen in her line of work. She wanted to find the bastard responsible. She needed to. Her own piece of mind was starting to depend on it.

"Love surpasses pain."

Sara blinked, startled when the soft utterance broke from Marni's lips.

She leant closer, struggling to decipher the words. "What did you say?"

"Love surpasses pain. Love surpasses pain. Love surpasses pain."

Marni's head tossed wearily back and forth as she repeated this senseless mantra. Sara stepped back uncertainly, wondering if she should call a nurse.

The decision was made for her as the nurse returned to the room, a small trolley wheeled out in front of her. Sara gestured to Marni, feeling awkwardly useless and out of place.

"I'm not sure what's wrong. She just started talking".

The nurse nodded, unphased by her reaction. "She's been spouting off that same line for the last hour or so. Do you think it might be probative to your case?"

Sara was uncertain. "I honestly don't know. Has she said anything else? About what it means, or where it comes from?"

The nurse shook her head. "No. It's as big a mystery to me as it is to you".

Sara stalked briskly down the hallway, intent on her path. She ignored the looks of surprise, manoeuvring around several nervous lab techs as she continued towards her destination. The prying whispers had extended to her ears, and she knew they were all questioning her mental health. Well, she didn't really give a damn what they thought.

She held her splintered arm against her side as she nudged open Grissom's office door with the other, eyes narrowed. She was indignant on her friend's behalf, but more so on her own, and it countermanded her persistent avoidance of her supervisor.

Grissom was bent over his desk, attention seemingly riveted to his paperwork, when she knew he had sensed her presence the moment she appeared in the threshold. His gaze slid up and met hers, and she glimpsed a mingled flash of fear and longing.

He cleared his throat, lowering his pen carefully. "Sara…"

She closed the door behind her, staring at him staunchly. "We need to talk".

It had been a long time coming, but she couldn't say she wanted to deal with the situation. She had been hiding behind Greg for too long now, and she couldn't keep doing it if he was reprimanded because of her own defencelessness.

"What gives you the right to tell Greg what constitutes my recovery?" she said angrily. "I am not a child, Grissom, and I am not your responsibility."

Grissom swallowed, looking down. "Sara, I just… I just wanted to protect you".

She blinked at him, realising how utterly out of character this admission would have been a few weeks ago. He was still reserved, but his protectiveness towards her had become oddly noticeable, and he wasn't trying to hide it.

Why did he have to do this to her? Now?

The pain was evident in the way they looked at each other, and Sara wondered if that would ever fade. Even being in a room with him, alone, was making her hands slick with perspiration, and her heartbeat wild with unadulterated anxiety. God, would she ever be able to look at him the same way again? She felt like the love she had for him was just reinforced more than ever and yet… it was her fault. Everything. He had no reason to love her back, and she didn't want him to.

"What are you reading?"

Sara jumped, glancing up as Grissom strode casually into the breakroom, moving over to the counter to pour himself some of Greg's amorously brewed coffee.

She cleared her throat, lowering the book carefully to the table. "It's, uh, nothing interesting. Just something to do with my case."

She didn't need Gil Grissom to think she was reading The Healing Power of Love because she needed pointers.

He leant against the counter, studying her with an uncomfortable amount of intensity. She shifted, suddenly nervous. "What?" she asked, a little more impatiently than intended.

Grissom lifted a shoulder, cradling his mug loosely. "How long has it been since you've been home, Sara?"

Sara released a sigh, closing the book under her linked palms. "I'm fine, Grissom. I'm working the case."

"I seem to remember hearing that a lot. Particularly last year."

She knew what he was insinuating, and she narrowed her eyes. "So every time I get invested in a case you're going to assume that I'm a drunk, or I'm going to do something stupid?"

He stared back at her calmly. "No. I just think that you're getting too invested and it's not good for you. All I'm asking is that you get some rest, Sara. Go home for a few hours."

She looked away, knowing that he could easily pull her from the case if he assumed she was too invested. He wanted some indication that she was capable of handling this; particularly now he knew the motivating factor behind her often unhealthy fixation with abuse cases.

"This one is different, Grissom", she muttered, gaze drawn once again to Dr. Miller's book, as if it held the answers she was looking for. "Is has nothing to do with… You didn't see what had been done to them".

He nodded, and an unusual amount of sympathy coloured in his eyes. "I know. I'm just worried about you. That's all".

She blinked, surprised by the admission. She brushed it off. "You mean 'concerned', right?"

A small, wan smile of amusement tugged at Grissom's lips as he pulled away from the counter. "Right".

Once she was sure he was walking away, Sara glanced up to study his retreating form, and not for the first time wished she could choose who she fell in love with. Not that she didn't want to love Grissom as a person, but she felt like she was wasting her time. He would never return her feelings. 'Emotionally unavailable', she reminded herself.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to the book:

'…love has the unique characteristic of carrying the definition of an emotion, but is in reality an action. The first step in understanding love, and its power, is to erase the social definition from your mind. Forget about 'love at first sight', it's a myth. If you think you are feeling this, label it as 'lust at first sight'. The next step is to recognize the different types of love. The English language is a huge barrier to this step. People can say they love pizza, and then say they love their children. These are two very different types of love.

'The love for a child can be the most intense, and we will explore this in a later chapter, but for now it's important to realize that while this type of love can be felt the most intensely it is not the most powerful. Love, in a relationship that society would consider true love, or soul mates, is the most powerful love a human can experience. The reason for this is that the individuals involved enter into this love willingly, knowing the risks, and choose to remain dedicated to their love regardless of the consequences. It's this love that surpasses pain--'

Sara dropped the book as if it were on fire. She had been so caught up in her situation and how the doctor's words applied to her life that she almost forgotten she was reading the book for research. Almost, until Marni's face flashed into her mind as she read that last, familiar sentence.

"I got you, you bastard," she whispered, threw the book on the table in front of her, and left in search of Brass.

"It's not up to you to protect me", she said flatly, and turned to leave the room.

"Sara", Grissom said softly.

His voice was so pleading, so achingly painful, she forced herself to turn and meet his gaze.

They held for long moment, and Grissom finally spoke. "You don't have to go through this alone".

She straightened, unable to look at the searing intensity of his eyes. She refused to be swayed by it. She couldn't be. "I'm not alone, Grissom. And neither are you".

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