Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Thanks so much for all the great feedback! I'm so glad ya'll are enjoying it. Have you been checking out the CSI marathon on Spike all this week? I managed to record an entire season that I didn't have;) Take care 'til next time!
Giving Up
by Kristen Elizabeth
With Grissom staring him down as he waited for answer, Greg considered his options.
First option: the truth. He could tell his boss that there was a rumor flying around the lab that Sara had been a victim of date rape. If he did that, he'd at least be telling the truth. But he would also be partly responsible for Grissom's stroke and/or heart attack. He had a feeling that the man wouldn't take the news very well.
Second option: lie. Lie like crazy.
"Did I say Sara?" Greg stammered. "I meant…um…Tara."
"Tara?"
"Yeah, Tara. Rookie on days." He flashed a wide, guilty grin. "You haven't met her yet?"
The older man frowned, obviously suspicious. "No, I haven't. What's her last name?"
To Greg's great relief, he was saved by the bell. Well, by the cell, at least.
Grissom answered. "Grissom."
A moment passed as his boss listened to the voice on the other end. Greg took the opportunity to thank whatever higher power had just saved his butt.
"That was Brass," Grissom said, closing up his phone. "Skeletal remains in the desert. Grab your kit." As Greg turned to go, he continued. "But Greg…don't think we won't be continuing this conversation later."
By Greg's calculations, he had at least six hours to come up with a last name for the phantom Tara.
The scrap of paper in her hand felt like lead. Sara looked down at it, then up at the building, confirming for the tenth time that she was at the right place. It was discreet, like the ad in the phone book had promised it would be. Just a simple sign reading "Professional Counseling Services." She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Maybe a huge, garish billboard screaming "Rape Crisis CenterBeen raped? Or maybe just taken advantage of? Come on in! We'll fix you, good as new!"
When Catherine had made the suggestion that she seek professional counseling, Sara had turned her down flat. She'd had enough of therapy after her near-DUI. And while she'd been grateful for the insights her PEAP counselor had given her, she wasn't quite ready to have her head shrunken again. There were some things that were better left alone.
But as the older woman had pointed out, she was on the verge of a breakdown. And Sara figured she'd been enough of a burden on Grissom. The last thing he needed was her going mental at a crime scene or in an interrogation room.
It was her desire to regain control over her own life that urged her into the air-conditioned office. Sara pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and looked around. She might have been in her dentist's office, or even her CPA's. Nothing in the waiting room's décor gave away what the two women besides herself who were seated in comfortable chairs reading magazines might actually be there for. Sara took a breath and approached the receptionist's desk.
She couldn't seem to make the words come out, but fortunately the woman behind the desk spoke for her. "If you're here for the group session, we're running just a bit behind schedule."
"Um…yes." Sara cleared her throat. "Who leads the group session?"
"Dr. Forbes. He's a highly respected clinical psychologist. And on a personal note, a genuinely wonderful man."
"He? A man runs the session?"
As if on cue, a tall, lanky boy of no more than twenty entered the office. He quickly took a seat and grabbed a magazine, holding it up to hide his face.
The receptionist smiled sadly. "Not all rape victims are women." She reached into her desk. "You're not required to fill out any information on yourself, but here's a nametag if you want to wear one." She handed Sara a blank tag and a marker. "We hope you'll stay. Being a survivor myself, I know that talking helps. Even if it seems like the last thing you want to do."
Sara nodded. "It is." She hesitated before writing her first name on the tag. With shaky hands, she peeled off the back and attached the tag just over her right breast. It was a minor step, but it was something. "But I'll give it a try."
"I'm sorry I haven't gotten to this yet," Doc Robbins apologized a week later. "We've been backed up."
"Not a problem," Grissom assured him. "What have you found out?"
"It's a mystery, Gil." Doc Robbins shook his head at the skeleton pieced together on the steel exam table. "No obvious signs of trauma other than some animal activity. I'll see what I can pull from the bones, but don't count on DNA or any lingering toxins." He sighed. "We'll probably never know the COD."
Grissom pointed to the wide arch in the pelvic bone. "It's definitely female though."
"For certain. I'm tentatively putting her in her early twenties. See her teeth?" He pointed to the skeleton's jaw. "Her wisdoms were just starting to push up. But she's past eighteen." The doctor picked up the right forearm and pointed out the calcification around the joint. "Female, early twenties, Caucasian, five foot eight. That's the best I can give you."
"It's something," Grissom mused. "Thanks."
"Anytime."
Walking back to his office, Grissom's thoughts were a jumbled puzzle. He was barely aware of the people who passed him by, he was so caught up in the newest Jane Doe. For a moment he considered putting in a call to Terri Miller, but then he remembered something he'd heard awhile back about her having a baby. It was doubtful she'd be able to fly to Vegas to recreate a face for him.
He was going over a list of forensic artists in his head when he heard Sara's voice. She broke through the fog like no one else could. His head snapped up.
"Is it true?" Sara approached him from across the hall. "The skeleton you pulled out of the desert last week might be connected to Julia Sommers?"
"That hasn't been confirmed," Grissom replied. "And from the utter lack of evidence, it's doubtful it ever will be."
She persisted. "But you think it might be, right? Greg said that you…"
"Greg put the pieces together, not me. For now we're treating it like a separate murder."
"The sooner we identify a serial and start putting together a profile, the sooner we catch him and the more lives we save."
Grissom watched her lips move as she spoke, an old habit he'd never quite been able to get over. She had a beautiful mouth that wrapped around every word like a loving blanket. He shook off the thought as quickly as possible. "Sara, we're not going to jump ahead of the evidence. That's not how we do things around here."
"Right." She folded her arms defensively. "My mistake."
His head suddenly ached. "You're making it personal again. You want to catch Julia Sommers' killer for your own peace of mind. That's dangerous, Sara. Because if it never happens, you'll never be able to rest."
"You're hardly one to talk," Sara shot back, her voice raw with pain. "Why isn't Debbie Marlin on the fish board?" He blinked. "Her case is still very much open, isn't it?"
Now his head was pounding. "That's different. I know who killed her. I just need to prove it."
"You're never going to prove it," she said softly. "He got away with murder, Grissom."
"Sara." His stare locked onto hers. "Go find Greg. I'm sure he needs help with something."
The migraine threatened to take over his entire head by the time he got to his office. Without bothering with water, he popped two pills and sat back in his chair, waiting for them to take effect.
"Unless anyone has anything else to add, I think we'll wrap things up for the day." Dr. Lawton Forbes waited a few moments for any one of the ten people seated in the circle over which he presided to speak. His gaze settled on the tall brunette, the newest member of the group. But when she said nothing, he continued. "All right then." He stood and indicated that they should follow.
Sara was familiar with this part of the session, but even after attending four of them, she wasn't quite ready to be an active participant in the ritual. She stood, but only listened to the words that flowed in unison.
"I am a survivor. I have power that no one can take from me. I am a survivor."
"Great." Dr. Forbes nodded, satisfied. "See you all next week."
Gathering up her coat and purse, Sara thought back on the day's session. A girl named Andrea had talked about her horrific date rape experience. It had been difficult, but she'd tried not to listen to the girl's story with the ears of a law enforcement agent. Still, she'd wanted to tell Andrea that it wasn't too late to report the crime.
Hypocrite, Sara accused herself.
"Sara." She spun around and came face to face with Dr. Forbes. He smiled at her, the faint lines around his brown eyes crinkling up. She guessed him to be about forty; if he was older than that, he kept himself in great shape. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay."
He waited until she had put on her coat before continuing. "How are you doing, Sara? Are you finding the sessions helpful?"
"Um…yes." Sara caught him arch an eyebrow; she reconsidered her answer. "No. Not really."
The doctor gestured to a seat and took one for himself. "Any idea why not?"
She sank back into her chair. "I don't know. I guess I still don't think I was…" She bit into her lip. "What happened to me wasn't so easily classified as these other people."
"Is that why you've yet to talk at all?"
"Yeah. I guess I don't want to undermine their experiences." Sara shrugged. "I wasn't raped so much as…used."
"I see." Dr. Forbes leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm going to make a bold guess and say that for you, sex is a very special act. Something you don't do casually."
She didn't have to nod; her face gave away the truth.
"So while what happened to you wasn't violent, emotionally you were raped," he went on.
"I haven't heard from him since," she whispered. "It was like it never happened." She turned her face up to the ceiling. "He took what he wanted and left. And that was it"
"Don't undermine your own experience, Sara. Take the first step and let yourself be a victim. It's only after you do that you can become a survivor."
There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't quite swallow. "I don't know if I can do that. My job…I work with victims every day. If I become one, how can I possibly help anyone else? If I couldn't protect myself…"
"Those aren't questions I can answer. Only you can. And you probably won't be to for a long time." He reached out and touched her hand in a gesture that was too familiar. It was entirely Grissom. She pulled away.
"I should go." Sara stood up. "Thank you, Dr. Forbes."
"Please." He smiled again. "Call me Lawton. I look forward to seeing you next week, Sara."
Her stomach twisted. "Next week."
To Be Continued