A Trial of the Heart: Chapter Six

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"Remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible but in the end, they always fall -- think of it, always."

--Mahatma Gandhi

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Grissom held Sara's gaze as he attempted to convey his concern and care for her. Never in his life had anyone done what she had done for him, and now she was in his office trying to comfort him. Her actions went far beyond saving his life, and he had absolutely no clue how to handle that. He had tried to help her while she was still in the hospital, but she had rejected him.

Grissom could see her fighting the comforting black void of unconsciousness. He understood the feeling. His injuries were nowhere near as severe as hers, but the time he spent under sedation kept him blissfully detached from reality. He had been sitting in the same chair since he escaped the nurses.

He watched her chest rise and fall in awe of her. He was not worthy of the love she felt for him.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the fear was instantly evident. "Sara?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, allowing the tears to spill over and run down her face. Grissom reached over to wipe them away, but she jerked away from his touch.

Trying to hide the hurt from his voice, he spoke softly. "It's okay, Sara, it's over, and I'm here. I'm here for you, Sara."

Shaking her head slightly, her raspy voice finally filled the room, but he was unprepared for the pain that could grip his heart. "Gil, please, just go. I need you to leave me alone."

"I was alone." He finally shared with her his deepest pain. He swore he would never tell her.

Sara was taken aback by his statement, and tried to find its context. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, closed it, and then attempted to make sense of what was happening.

He watched her contemplate his words and felt slightly relieved she was clueless. He had suspected she wouldn't remember those initial words, but he had to know. "When you woke up, in the hospital, you pushed me away."

"Grissom, I…" She had no idea how to explain to him her inner turmoil. "I don't know that I'm ready to talk about this, but you did nothing wrong."

He wanted to press the issue, but respected her needs. "Can you spend the night with me?" he blurted out.

Her face paled slightly. "Excuse me?"

Grissom shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He didn't mean for his words to come out the way they had. He cleared his throat. "After shift, would you be willing to come watch a movie and have dinner with me…or I could come to your place?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't know," she responded hesitantly. "Can you give me to the end of shift to think about it?"

He nodded. "Of course." It was encouraging to him that she was considering it at all.

"But you need to not chew Greg out again, at least not because of me," she explained, trying to change the subject.

"Deal." He answered, and also shifted gears. "How is Marni?"

Completely off-guard that he would ask her, Sara was also curious as to why he had taken to using her first name. He always remained detached, but perhaps they shared a connection now. "She's still incoherent. They're keeping her sedated most of the time."

"Did they say anything about her recovery?"

"I didn't ask. I couldn't…I didn't talk to the doctor." She was aware of the weakness she had just revealed, but she hoped he wouldn't call her on it. "I still don't understand why. Even after all of our…conversations… I don't understand."

Sara paced in the observation room adjacent with the interrogation room, waiting impatiently for Brass to deliver her suspect. She walked over to pick up the phone hanging on the wall, but stopped when Dr. Wilson entered the nearby room. He was instructed to sit.

Sara studied him through the two-way mirror. He sat, unmoving in his chair, without displaying an ounce of anxiety.

"He's a cool one," Brass observed behind her.

She grabbed the book. "Let's turn up the heat." She stalked out of the room, with more determination than ever.

As she walked into the interrogation room, Wilson smiled at her. "Sara. How are you?"

"It's Ms. Sidle, Dr. Wilson. You're not here for a social visit, let's keep it professional." Her tone was cold.

Brass watched the two stare each other down, neither blinking, and he shifted to stand in the center of the room to remind both of them he was there.

Sara slid the book forward on the table that separated them. "Love surpasses pain," she quoted.

He grinned slightly. "It does."

She remained unphased. "You have some twisted ideas in there, Dr. Wilson."

He flipped through it nonchalantly, admiring his work. "I'm glad you liked it, Ms. Sidle."

"Did Mr. Clark, and Ms. Mullins enjoy your twisted theories?" She was indignant, and dared him to gloat about his actions.

He closed the book. "They got a lot out of our time together."

"Did you torture them for entertainment, or to prove your theories?" she asked, leaning forward.

Wilson leaned forward in response. "I counseled them."

"I'm sure they were better off without your help." Sara was realizing she wasn't going to trick him into confessing, and needed to change tactics.

Before she could speak again, he interrupted her thoughts. "Ms. Sidle." He seemed to be testing out the sound of the words. "Never married?"

Jim stepped forward protectively. Sara looked up at him to convey that she was all right.

"I don't see how that is relevant."

"You can't understand this book if you've never chosen to love someone. I'm not talking about family-- very little risk is involved with loving them." His voice was almost soothing.

She smiled tensely back at him. "You don't know my family."

He studied her. "So much pain, Sara." His eyes narrowed. "But you've chosen to love, haven't you?"

She stood, feeling claustrophobic under his scrutiny. "This isn't about me, Dr. Wilson! This is about you torturing that couple for your own sadistic research!"

Grissom chose that moment to walk into the room, but stopped mid-stride as he sensed Sara's tension. He looked at her, and then shot a challenging look at the doctor. "Dr. Wilson's attorney is here."

Sara never took her eyes off their suspect. "He's not in custody; he's just here to help us answer some questions."

The young redheaded lawyer stepped into the small room. "His secretary was concerned, and asked me to make sure there were no problems I needed to know about."

Sara picked up the case file, and turned to walk out the door. "We're through here anyway."

"Ms. Sidle?"

His voice sent shivers up her spine, but she turned to face him. He was holding out the book for her. Sara stepped forward to take it, but he held onto it long enough for his finger to stroke hers. She yanked it forcefully from his hand and spun on her heels, not looking back.

Grissom knew he had broached a subject that was too dangerous to delve into at the office, and Sara seemed to be remembering something. "Sara… are you okay?"

She blinked rapidly, and nodded. "Sometimes I can't get him out of my mind," she confessed.

Grissom understood her completely. They both had injuries that would physically heal, but he wondered about the mental scars.

Sara was feeling uncomfortable. They were still at work, and she needed to regain her focus. "I should get back to work."

He tried to not let his disappointment show. This had been the first time she hadn't wanted to bolt from the same room he was in. He tried to remember what Dr. Muller told him. She need people she could trust to support her, but he needed her to come to them on her own terms.

Sara stood and he called out to her. "Tell Greg I'm sorry."

Turning, she offered a small smile. "I will." Sara turned back to the door, took the handle, but did not leave his office. "I'd like to spend the night at your place," she told him, keeping her back to him.

Before he could reply, she was gone.

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Sara had forgotten that she and Greg had driven to the lab together, so she sat uncomfortably in Grissom's Lexus, trying her hardest not to feel trapped. She rubbed her shoulder unconsciously.

"How's your shoulder?"

It took a few seconds for his question to register. "I'm sorry, what?"

Grissom nervously rubbed his beard. "How's your shoulder?"

She glanced down, and only then realized that she was massaging it. Dropping her hand down into her lab she honestly replied. "It's still pretty sore, I think it helped that it was set so…quickly."

Sara walked through her apartment door and dropped the keys on the counter. Flipping through the mail she discarded the junk mail and placed the rest next to the phone. She glared at the take-out menu she had ordered from before she "left" work. She promised herself she wouldn't fall back into the habit of take-out and spending the weekend at home alone with her science journals, but after getting nowhere with questioning Dr. Wilson, and being lectured by Grissom, all she wanted to do was sit and not think about how she had failed to bring justice to Jerrod and Marni.

There should have been something else she could have said to trap the doctor. Finding out his motive, and finding evidence to nail him would possibly save the lives of others. Time would tell. Regardless, he got away.

Sara took some 'comfort' in the idea that a man like Lee Wilson would not consider himself lucky for not being caught yet, and transform into a reformed individual. He would torture and murder again, and if anything, his crimes would escalate. The comfort came in the idea that he would be caught, and she would do whatever it took to be the one that caught him.

As she thought about Marni lying in the cell in pain and knowing her fiancé was dead in the next cell, anger and sadness welled up inside of her. She couldn't help but imagine what it was like for Marni to be violated so brutally.

The pictures were far too vivid, and she jumped when the doorbell rang. Peering through the eyehole, she studied the man on the other side. Still paranoid given the circumstances of the case, she had no intension of letting the deliveryman in her door. She made sure the chain was on and unlocked the deadbolt. Passing the cash through the cracked door she instructed him to, "Just leave it on the ground."

The man looked at her, but not with the confusion she expected. He seemed frightened. Before she knew it, he was lying unconscious on the ground while Dr. Wilson was throwing his shoulder into the door. Sara felt the chain hit just above her eye as it broke due to the force. The door shortly followed, smacking her in the forehead, and sending her flying to the ground.

Unable to react, she heard the shuffle of feet, a door slam shut, and the deadbolt echo with a deafeningly finality in her ears.

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