Warning: This chapter contains graphic tortue scenes.

A Trial of the Heart Chapter ten

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As I cry silent tears,
I realize,
I will never cover the wound of you,
With the band-aid of somebody new.

Until my heart heals,
I will leave it exposed for all to see,
No longer suffering alone,
in misery.

I will let the air we all share,
Cleanse and heal me,
As it passes from my mouth,
Into your ears.

--Author Unknown

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Dr. Muller looked at Sara, trying to determine from her body language if the slender brunette was uncomfortable or outright frightened. Sara for her part was staring intently at the arm of her chair, as she picked at an errant thread.

"Sara?" she started softly.

Grissom looked away from Sara for the first time since they sat down. He seemed to take a defensive posture, and eyed the older women in front of them. He looked back at Sara and placed his hand on hers, ceasing its rhythmic movement.

She tensed, and looked Grissom in the eyes. "I can't do this."

He squeezed her hand, and looked back at the psychiatrist. "Dr Muller, I question how therapeutic this is, considering the circumstances? Is there anything else you can recommend?"

"Dr. Grissom, Sara, I understand more than you think," she started patiently. "The first thing you both need to understand is that your experience with Dr. Wilson was not a therapy session. He was not looking out for your best interests, but I am."

Sara was vaguely aware of movement around her. She tried to focus on her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was hearing a noise near the front of the warehouse, and then she was consumed with darkness. Her head was throbbing, and as she brought her hand up to massage the source of the pain, she became aware of two things—her temple was bleeding, and her hands were no longer bound by the chains.

"We don't need the chains anymore, Sara," he spoke softly.

Sara cringed, wondering how he could get inside her head like he did.

"I've acquired someone else to keep you chained to your cell."

Her brain was still foggy, but she picked up on the details of his sentence-- someone. She looked around frantically, heart dropping, and she could hear her blood rushing in her ears as she took in the sight before her.

Grissom was in the cell adjacent to hers; chained to the wall in the same position she had found Jerrod Clark. He was unconscious, but seemingly unharmed.

Sara started to hyperventilate, and tears finally streamed down her face, "Why? Why are you doing this?" she gasped out.

He kicked her squarely in the ribs, and she heard the distinctive sound of bones cracking. She curled up in a protective ball. "You can leave, Sara. Your chains are gone, and your cell door is open."

Her mind raced as she struggled to put the pieces together. Marni had been within arms reach of her freedom. All she had to do was take the key and unlock her bindings. Instead she chose to remain in her cell, and most likely watched her fiancé die.

She looked over at the still form of Gil Grissom, and saw the feared electrodes attached to his wrists. Looking away, she pressed her head against the ground in an attempt to find her center. "If I leave, he dies."

Sara heard the rustling of clothes and felt his breath near her ear. "You're amazingly intelligent, Sara. I don't even have to tell you the rules."

They both heard the form in the next cell groan, and Wilson smiled. "He's about to join us."

Sara's eyes seemed clouded over as she stared unfocused over Grissom's shoulder. He still held her hand, but it was limp within his grasp. "Sara?" He shifted to kneel in front of her.

His movements revived her, as her hand shot back as if his touch burned her. She stood quickly and attempted to back away.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Her plea was pitiful, and he moved to approach her, but felt a hand on his arm.

Dr. Mullen was now standing, and walking purposefully toward the scared women. "Sara, tell me what you're feeling?" It sounded cliché even to her seasoned ears, but at this point in Sara's progression they needed to find the root of her fears.

Sara had backed herself against the wall, bumping into several framed certificates. She slid down the wall and curled up into a protective ball.

Grissom was torn; it hurt him to watch her revert back to the frightened women in the cell, but he needed to be with her every step of her recovery. "Doctor," he pleaded.

The older women held up her hand, but remained entirely focused on Sara. "Sara, what are you seeing?"

Sara was too weak to move, and the coolness of the concrete floor felt comforting on her warm forehead. She knew Grissom could see her through the bars that separated them, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Sara."

She cringed instantly. If she survived, the doctor's voice was going to haunt her forever. She heard him step closer, and she could hear Grissom's screams. She tensed, causing her punished muscles to scream back.

"Give me your hand, Sara." His voice was so calming. So deceptive.

She knew if she did not obey, Grissom would suffer. Sara lifted her hand out, but refused to look; leaving her head pressed into the ground. He caressed her hand, and suddenly snapped her index finger. She moaned and drew it back quickly.

"Give me your hand, Sara." His voice never changed.

She whimpered, and could still hear Grissom screaming. Sara once again placed her hand in her tormentor's, and felt another sickening snap.

"Do you see, Gil? It's amazing the pain she's willing to endure for you, isn't it? Look how willingly she gives me her hand back. Do you know why?" He patted Sara's hand and placed in on the ground.

Grissom was breathless, and was searching for words to keep the attention on him. His mind was reeling from just his imagination as to what she had been through in the last three days.

"Sara?" He stroked her hair. "Tell him why."

"You'll kill him," her muffled voice echoed through the cells.

Wilson shook his head, "No, no, that's not why. Tell him why." He looked up at Grissom; he wanted to see his reaction.

"Because I love him," she finally choked out with a sob.

Sara hadn't moved from her fetal position, other than to bury her face in the carpeting.

Dr. Muller lightly stroked the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her.

She squeezed her eyes tight. "You'll kill him."

Grissom wanted to vomit. "Oh God." He moved forward and gently pushed the doctor out of the way. "She's reliving it."

Dr. Muller sat back on her heels, and watched their interaction.

Grissom gathered her up in his arms. She fought briefly, but went limp from exhaustion.

Grissom was torn between his desire to kill the man hovering over Sara, and wanting to comfort her. He had never heard her say those words before; and he was furious that she was forced to reveal her true feelings under pain and duress. "Leave her alone," he growled dangerously.

Their tormentor glared at him. "This is not about you," he answered, low and dangerously.

"Turn over Sara," he instructed.

She didn't move.

"Turn over Sara," he commanded sternly.

Too afraid, she refused to comply, until she heard the whine of electricity followed by Grissom's sudden cry. 'That was my fault,' she thought instantly, and immediately complied with his command, and once again the warehouse fell silent. Sara could hear Grissom's shuttered breath.

She felt vulnerable lying on her stomach, but she was willing to wait as long as she needed to make sure Grissom didn't suffer because of her. She turned her head to look in his direction, but Dr. Wilson blocked her view.

"Have you ever told him, Sara?" he asked, sounding so sincerely concerned.

He fingered the black box. "No," she finally answered.

"Love changes a person, Sara. Did you know that? Can you remember who you were before you loved him? When you look in the mirror now, who do you see?"

"Please, let him go," she begged. All she could think of was the burned corpse of Jerrod.

"Sara, he's key to this research," he explained calmly. "I need to know what you are willing to endure to spare him pain."

She glared at him, flashing her defiance. She never thought she would submit so willingly to a person, but in all her scenarios she never imagined that her submission held Gil's life in the balance. "We're research to you? That's how you justify this? That's how you justify Jerrod and Marni?"

"Tsk, tsk, Sara, Jerrod's death was Marni's responsibility," he answered and stood to fiddle with his belt buckle. As he loosed it, her greatest fear flashed through her mind.

Grissom once again came to life, struggling to free himself. "Leave her alone, you bastard!"

The belt zipped through his belt loops, and instantly came down on her back with force.

Once again, Katherine Muller reached out for Grissom's arm. "Take her home, and bring her back in the morning. I'll report a successful meeting." She stood, and left her office to give them the privacy they needed.

Grissom looked down, and wiped the hair away from her eyes. She was sweating, and her breathing was ragged. He wanted to hurt someone, and first on his list was Ecklie. He failed to see how subjecting Sara to counseling was going to help her. She seemed to have taken several huge steps back.

She finally looked into his eyes, as if she were seeing him for the first time. "We were research."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued. "To him, we were research."

"Sara, it…he's insane. It wasn't research. He was twisted, and you got caught in the middle."

She fingered a button on his shirt, and inhaled his cologne, "You got caught in the middle." She shifted, and looked up at him again, "I need to say…I want you to…" She was struggling to form the words. She was facing a new fear.

"What is it, Sara?" He was concerned.

Her mouth opened. "I love you."

In his dreams, those were not the words he expected her to say in that moment. He said nothing, too stunned to respond.

"I needed to tell you…I needed to erase the first time I said those words." She was shaking, and he hugged her closer.

Sara's back was on fire, and she could feel the blood trickling down her sides. She knew he was looking at her, but she felt ashamed. Being certain Grissom viewed her feelings as nothing more than a college crush, she was mortified.

"Sara," his voice was quiet so as to not draw attention from unwanted ears, but laced with concern. "Sara, please look at me. I need to know you're okay."

She finally turned her head. Tears had now dried, leaving a salty trail down her face. "I'm sorry."

"Sara, this is not your fault, do you hear me?" He couldn't decide if he was more concerned over her physical condition, or her mental condition, after being trapped with the psycho for three days.

"Grissom, no, that's not—Grissom, I'm sorry you're here. That is my fault." She was near tears again.

"Sara, no—"

"I love you," she interrupted. "That's why you're here. It's not a crush," she whispered. "I love you."

Before he could answer, their tormentor returned, whistling. He held a black bag under his arm. "We need to patch you up, Sara. We can't have you getting an infection."

He took a firm hold on her shirt and ripped it to expose her wounded back.

She jumped, and cringed at the pain that emanated along her back.

"I have nothing to numb you up, but we need to stitch these up," he explained as he prepared his supplies. "And not a word out of you, Gil," he warned, looking up briefly.

The first stitch was an unbelievable pain; blood streamed down her chin as she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"I know you don't understand completely, Sara," he talked while he worked. "My books were all theory, and I had no viable way to prove them. I needed a way to test the character of true love. Humans in general are very selfish; the women I loved completely cheated on me. I would have done anything for her." Sara jumped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Oops, sorry about that one."

'He's insane, truly insane,' she thought.

"So I started to contemplate what would have happened had I found someone who loved me just as fiercely. I thought Marni and Jerrod were the ones." He shook his head. "She could take it."

He paused, and looked up at Grissom, who seemed to be in physical pain over having to watch Sara suffer without saying a word to stop it.

Sara for her part was teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but the continual onslaught of agony sent shooting pain through her back.

"A deliveryman," he mumbled, seemingly off topic. Sara almost asked him what he was talking about. "She cheated on me with a common deliveryman, but you knew that, Sara. You knew him."

Sara instantly flashed to the scared face that had greeted her at her door a lifetime ago.

"I had to kill him. His body should be found soon, and will buy us some more time." He grew quiet after that, and continued to work.

Sara finally calmed to the point that Grissom was leading her out of the office. They passed Dr. Muller on their way out. He nodded his gratitude and herded Sara toward the parking lot.

Once he had her in his car, he waited to start the engine. "I wanted to wait… there needed to be the right time to tell you," he stumbled over his words, looking straight ahead.

She understood what he was trying to say. "Don't say it if you don't mean it. It's not a band-aid."

He turned to face her. "It's not a band-aid-- a band-aid merely covers a wound. I love you, and that will heal us."

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