A/N: Thanks to Ambient Flames for her impatient, slave driving…Oh, I mean all her great feedback! Put the trout down and back away slowly…(Rouch)
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The
past is our definition. We may strive, with good reason, to escape
it, or to escape what is bad in it, but we will escape it only by
adding something better to it.
--Wendell
Berry
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Sara waited in the vehicle while she watched Grissom run into the main building of the Ingleside Inn. They had driven for four hours, and Sara was starting to get the impression that the whole trip might not have been as spontaneous as he has led her to believe.
Sara looked around-- she knew the area. Before she moved to Vegas, and she had free time, she had spent many weekends rock climbing in Joshua Tree National Park; though she had never wandered into Palm Springs.
Taking her focus off the mountains in the distance, Sara looked toward the building again, and smiled.
Grissom was already on his way to the car. "Spontaneous my ass," she whispered to herself. There was no way a place like Ingleside just happened to have an opening, and if they did there was no way they checked them in that quickly.
He got into the car, and handed Sara a brochure without a word. He started the car as she looked over the information.
"Villa 8…The Royal Suite! Grissom!" She didn't know what she was feeling. She had butterflies in her stomach, but she also had to fight back a surge of fear.
He took her hand as they drove around the main building. "Keep reading."
"Elegant living room, wet bar, gas fireplace…opens to private patio," she read the highlights. "Bedroom with gas fireplace has two large bathrooms, including a sunken tub." Sara closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like to sit in a hot bath, letting her muscles relax finally. She continued to read silently, but stopped on three words, 'king size bed'. She didn't know if she was ready for that.
"Grissom, this must cost a fortune, we don't have to stay here tonight. Let's just drive to L.A., it's not that much farther." She tried to sound natural.
He parked the car, and shifted in his seat to face her. "Don't worry about the money, and we're not staying here tonight."
Sara opened her mouth to speak her confusion, but he stopped her.
"We have the Villa for the rest of the week." His eyes searched hers, trying to find out what she was thinking.
He looked down at their intertwined hands, and saw the matching burns on their wrists.
"It's ironic, isn't it?" Wilson asked. "It took torture for her to finally reveal her feelings to you. She must have been afraid you would reject her, hurt her, and now it's that torture that protects you."
Grissom loosened his grasp from hers. "Maybe this was a bad idea." He started to backpedal.
Sara squeezed his hand before he could take it away completely. "No." She wanted to stay with him just as much as she wanted him to stay away from her. She wondered how long the residual fear for his lifewould linger. "Let's just take this slow, okay? One step at a time?"
He nodded, as she opened the door and stepped out.
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Sara tried to control her breathing. She was lying face down, and hadn't moved since Dr. Wilson stitched her up. She wasn't even sure if he had left the cell.
"Sara," Grissom's hushed voice answered her question.
All she could illicit was a moan.
"Sara, look at me, your cell door isn't locked." His voice was urgent.
She finally rolled her head in his direction. "It never is."
Grissom stared at her, not comprehending her statement.
"Since you got here, I've been free to go," she explained with finality.
"Sara, you need to go. Go get help. Please, get out of here," he pleaded.
She smiled slightly. "I can't."
"Sara…" he had no idea what to say to her. He physically hurt to watch her in so much pain, and she was subjecting herself to it for him. 'Because she loves me,' he reminded himself.
She tried to push herself up, but was too weak and collapsed on the ground again. "Gil…he won't kill me. Not killing me is the key to his…whatever this is to him." She couldn't look at him anymore; she didn't know how much more she could take, and she feared for his life. "If I leave, you die."
They both tensed at the sound of chains rattling. "It's so amazing isn't it, Gil?" Wilson continued to speak as he leaned down and stroked her hair. "I didn't think I would find a love this strong."
Sara eyes were fixed on the new set of electrodes he held in his hand. Two days of torture with them had almost reached her breaking point. She shook at the memory of the electricity coursing though her body. "No," she whispered.
"Ah, see Gil, Sara hates these more then anything else." He grabbed her wrist.
"No, please. End this. Let him go and I'll stay with you." She was worried she would betray Grissom.
"Sara!" Grissom admonished her.
"No, no, we're just getting started," he cooed, and locked each electrode around her already burnt wrists. "You see Gil, I allowed her to feel the pain of the electricity before so she would know a fraction of the pain you would feel if she betrayed her love."
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Nick followed Brass through the door. They both stopped when they heard the echo of voices. Brass halted and put his hand up. He looked back at Catherine who must have seen the startled look in his eyes.
The blonde ran back to the Tahoe to radio for backup.
Greg watched the more seasoned officers react and he instantly pulled his firearm out of its holster. His hands were shaking, and he hoped Sara's life did not depend on him being a sure shot.
Nick glanced back at the younger CSI as he drew his own weapon. He nodded his approval, seeing he had already armed himself.
Brass moved closer to whisper into Nick's ear. "Go around the building, there's a back door."
Nick moved quietly, and disappeared around the corner.
Taking a deep breath, Greg moved forward to follow Brass.
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Sara walked through the spacious suite. "How did you know about this place?" she finally asked, coming to a halt in front of the fireplace.
He came up behind her, but stopped himself from wrapping his arms around her. The action felt so right, but he knew she wasn't ready. Maybe he was moving too fast, but all he could think of was the love he finally understood she had for him. All his insecurities and excuses as to why the relationship would never work disappeared when he considered what she had done for him.
He settled for a light brush against her arm. "My parents came here for their honeymoon. It was really all they talked about. Even years later, my mother would tell me about the famous people that have stayed here."
"Famous people?" She could feel his warmth behind her, and leaned back against him.
He could barely contain the joy he felt in her subtle movement. She seemed to fit. He gently hugged her against him, one arm around her waist, the other across her shoulders. "Yeah, this was quite the getaway back in the day. Marlon Brando, Greta Garbo, President Ford, and more recently, John Travolta, Cher…"
Sara allowed the gently hum of his voice sooth her. She closed her eyes. She felt normal.
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The intensity of the shock was more painful than she remembered it. She was vaguely aware of Grissom yelling.
"I can end your pain, Sara. Just tell me to stop and I'll stop," Wilson tempted her.
Sara knew at that moment that there would never be a level of pain that she would reach that would make her be willing to sacrifice Grissom life. She stared defiantly at her tormentor. "Go to hell." And then looked into Grissom's eyes, hoping to make him understand.
Grissom stopped his struggles, and watched Sara. Was she giving up, she looked resigned. "Sara, no." She knew she was going to die, and he instantly regretted everything and nothing. He loved her, God, he truly did, but neither one of them had been ready at the same time to follow through on their feelings.
He tried to convey all of his thoughts, and love to her. He had no idea how long their imprisonment was going to last, but he knew Sara needed him for strength. He was committed to finding ever last thread of strength to encourage her through her pain.
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Greg and Brass neared the source of noise. The smell of fear was heavy, and they could hear screams that had reached the point of the pain threshold that the gender of the person was indistinguishable.
Brass looked back at Greg to make sure he was capable of handling whatever they were about to walk into.
"Go to hell." Sara's voice was filled with determination.
'Good for you kiddo,' Brass thought proudly. He caught Nick's eye from the other end of the hallway. They needed to stop whatever was going on. Now.
Nick rounded his corner, gun raised, while Brass covered him. They both took in the scene before them. Sara was writhing in pain, while Grissom was chained against the wall helplessly watching.
Nick squeezed off two shots and the three CSIs rushed in.
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Grissom finished starting the fire and looked over at Sara's sleeping form on the couch in front of him. She finally looked peaceful. Even before their capture she had never looked at ease while she slept. It was as if she was always on edge, waiting for a nightmare.
He shivered in anger as he thought about the cards she had been dealt. Born into an abusive family, watching her father die, forced to visit her mother in a psychiatric ward, bounced around in the foster system, rejected multiple times by the man she loved more than her own life, and tortured almost to the point of death.
His thoughts reminded him once again of the part he played in her pain.
"Hey," her voice was quiet. He hadn't been aware that she woke up. "What's wrong?" Her eyes were focused on his, and she seemed to sense his anger.
Burying his anger, he moved over to sit next to her. "It's nothing, I was just thinking."
Sara searched his features, trying to decide if she should push the issue. As he reached over to brush an errant strand of hair off her brow, she grabbed his hand and kissed his palm. "Thank you."
He caressed her cheek. "For what?"
"For getting me out of Vegas, away from more sessions." She wanted to be the women he needed, but they both had a lot of scars that needed to heal. "For understanding where I'm at right now, and meeting me there."
He smiled and allowed their closeness to fill his soul. He knew she was worried about their relationship; about the intimacy. All he needed her to understand was that to him, just touching her made him feel alive.
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Grissom couldn't believe his senses. He heard two shots. He watched Wilson drop to the ground, and then saw Nick run into Sara's cell to make sure he was subdued.
The electrodes were still humming with electricity, and Sara started to vomit. Brass entered his cell. "No, shut off the electricity! She'll die, shut it off!"
Nick searched the cell frantically, but he had no idea how the mechanism worked.
"There's a black box, it was in his hand!" Grissom was oblivious to everything else but Sara, and only after Nick found the controls and Sara was silent did he breathe. He collapsed against the wall-- it was finally over.
Nick fumbled with the locks on her own chains, but she struggled against him. "Sara, easy, it's over, let us help you." He tried to comfort her. He almost didn't recognize her.
"No, help Grissom-- please free him," she pleaded as she jerked her hand away from Nick's. Her breathing was erratic, her body was still spasming.
Brass had found the keys for Grissom's cuffs somewhere and was releasing him when Greg called out. "She's not breathing, oh God, she stopped breathing!"
Nick was instantly rolling her over and clearing her airway. "Sara!"
Grissom protectively pushed Nick out of the way, checked for a pulse, and motioned for Greg to start chest compressions after he found none. The two began a rhythmic motion of CPR, and Grissom breathed into her mouth. How long had he dreamed about his lips touching hers? Never in those dreams was Sara lying beneath him limp and lifeless. 'This isn't happening, not now.' He thought desperately. "Come on Sara, don't give up!"
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. "Oh, Grissom?" Catherine's words were laced with concern.
Sara suddenly came to life beneath him. "Grissom?" Her voice was weak, and her face twisted in pain. She tried to roll over to ease the pressure against her back, but didn't have the strength.
Greg moved to help her, but was rewarded with another sharp cry.
"Her shoulder," Grissom explained, and took over. Everyone was stunned as they took in her myriad of injuries.
Sara grabbed his shirt with her uninjured hand, desperate to find a comfortable position. Her eyes drifted lazily shut.
"Sara, come on, stay with me," he begged.
"The paramedics are on the way, I called them when I heard the gun shots," Catherine explained, glancing at the still form lying on the ground. She cocked her head toward the body, "Lee Wilson?"
Sara tensed, and Grissom glared at the blonde.
Shooting a sympathetic look their way, Catherine walked to the body and checked for a pulse.
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