DISCLAIMER – Not mine. Belong to Anthony Zuiker, et al, CBS and Alliance Atlantis.

A/N – Takes place before Sara confides in Grissom what happened to her as a child, so before Nesting Dolls.

Thanks to remoob1513 – quick enough update:-)

Chapter 11

Greg pulled up in front of Sara's apartment complex and ran the stairs two at a time to her apartment. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Trying the door knob, he was both thankful and somewhat disturbed to find it unlocked. Thankful because he wouldn't have to break down the door, and disturbed that she'd forgotten such a basic rule as to lock up.

His heart stopped cold in his chest when he saw her laying on the sofa. The half bottle that she'd said she'd drunk was now almost empty. He rushed to her side and took her wrist to check her pulse. He sighed with relief to find it strong and steady.

He tried to shake her awake, calling her name but she didn't stir. He then hauled her to her feet and walked her to the shower. Turning on the cold faucet he shoved her under the spray.

Sara immediately opened her eyes and started sputtering, fighting the hands that were keeping her under the cold stream of water. Greg fought to keep her under as long as he could. When she was finally able to focus on him, he saw in her eyes that she was not only pretty sober, but more than just a little pissed off.

"Fucking hell Greg! You trying to kill me?" she demanded. He handed her a towel as she stepped from the shower stall.

"No, I was actually scared shitless by the person on the other end of the phone call I made about 15 minutes ago who sounded totally smashed, and who when I got here was lying passed out on the sofa in an unlocked apartment. So if you really need to know, I was trying to help a friend, who although always denies it OBVIOUSLY needs someone to keep an eye on her because again despite what she says is clearly NOT FINE, and NOT coping with whatever is driving her to the bottom of a bottle. Which by the way NEVER solved a single problem."

The last bit was said to her bed-room door which she'd virtually slammed in his face. She emerged moments later in a dry change of clothes. Her hair was still wet and he thought how beautiful she looked even now. Especially with her hair naturally curling, framing her face, it was a look he'd never seen on her, and she looked gorgeous.

As she sat down on the sofa, Greg found himself with a small case of de ja vu as he fixed the coffee machine for a fresh brew. As the coffee started to drip, he went over to the sofa and sat down next to her.

Looking into Greg's eyes, Sara marvelled at how they were able to convey such intensity, yet be passionate at the same time. Not wanting him to see what was in her own eyes, Sara looked down quickly.

Wanting so badly to hold her hand, Greg stuck his in-between his knees to keep him from giving in to the desire to take her hand in his.

"Please tell me what's wrong. If nothing else, I can lend you my ear."

Taking a deep breath Sara steeled herself. "I kissed Grissom today."

Greg kept his peace as he had promised, but his mind was reeling, 'She kissed Grissom. Wow, never saw that one coming.'

Realising she'd been quiet too long he prodded. "And…?"

Sighing heavily she continued, "…and he made it very clear that he'll never love me the way I love him."

Her voice started getting thicker and tears were beginning to collect in her eyes. Greg dared to snake one arm around her shoulder and pulled her in tight, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "Hey, he's not the only fish in the sea you know."

Without being able to see her face, he knew she was making one about his cliché comment. "Hey, whatever it lacks in originality it makes up for in truth." She sniffled and he could tell by the subtle movements in her shoulders that she'd started to cry.

"That's not all of it though is it?" he asked intuitively. There was a barely perceptible shake of her head. "Spill it kiddo. I'm listening. Look, two ears, no waiting."

She started to shrink from him. "You know those cases that bother me?"

"The domestic abuse ones?" Again, he felt not heard her answer.

"There's a reason why they bug me so much…"

The hair on the nape of Greg's neck stood, and the blood ran cold through his veins, sending goose-bumps through his whole body. It was the same feeling as one gets when you know that someone's going to give you bad news, or when you read or hear something that disturbs you on a very personal and intimate level.

"…when I was a kid, it was a constant part of my life. It all came to a head when my mother finally had enough and she stabbed my father to death. I spent the rest of my childhood in foster homes. Some were good. A lot were bad."

It took a few minutes for Greg to be able to formulate a coherent answer. He'd thought for the longest time he'd seen and heard enough in his job not to be able to be surprised by anything. Sara's revelation put that theory to bed. 'Shit, it's a miracle that she isn't any more screwed up.'

"Wow, I don't know what to say Sara."

Sniffing she said, "There's nothing to say. It happened, there was nothing I could do about it, there's nothing you can do about it. But try as I might I can't seem to get past this in my mind."

"Well shit Sara, you watched your mom, whom you loved, kill your dad whom you loved. There's no reason that you should just GET PAST it. I think that what you need to do is learn to LIVE WITH IT. Know your limits. Take breathers when you need them. Who else knows about this?"

"You're the only person I've told. Please don't tell anyone else."

"Hey, my middle name is discretion, actually, it's Olaf after my grand-father, but you know what I mean." For the first time, Sara looked up at him. There was a small smile on her face. He could see the turmoil in her eyes, just below the surface. He gave her a quick hard squeeze before getting up.

"I'll go get us some coffee."

TBC