A Breaking Point
By Jess aka willowaus
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and I am in no way making any money from writing this, alas.
A/N: Hugs to AussiRayne for the beta and for putting up with my ranting and raving. And big thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing.
Part Three
Fear mingled with worry filled every inch of her body as she struggled to make herself invisible in the closet. Light from the hallway shone through the bottom of the doorway, casting shadows of her parents as they moved through the house. Closing her eyes, she buried her head in her lap as her hands covered her ears. If she concentrated hard enough maybe she could open her own gateway to the land of Narnia. Her heart beat faster as the sound of footsteps grew nearer before the door was viciously yanked open.
Sara bolted upright in bed, her tank top clinging to her sweat dripped body. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the headboard as she struggled to even out her erratic breathing. Her hand fumbled for the glass of water on her bedside table and she slowly drank, allowing the cool liquid to sooth her as she opened her eyes. Rays of sunlight escaped the barrier of her maroon drapes, casting shadows along her covers, and she sighed, pushing the covers off of her and walking towards her bathroom.
Sleep would be impossible now, her mind unable to shut down the countless memories that invaded it. She turned on the shower head, stripped and stepped inside the hot water spray, letting the heat sear away the haunting pain that never seemed to leave her. She leaned her forehead against the cool tile, trying to squelch the need for someone to cling to, for someone to talk to. 'You've tried letting people in,' she warned herself. 'And all they do is shut you out.'
An exasperated noise left her mouth as she remembered the day she had revealed pieces of her past to Grissom, and the hope that had filled her, telling her now that she had told someone things would be better. 'Maybe you should have opened up to someone other than him,' she berated herself, pushing away form the tile and reaching for her shampoo bottle.
The bottle dropped from her hands, hitting the porcelain, her eyes widening in horror as an awful thought ran through her head. 'I have become my mother; neither of us could walk away from a relationship we knew had no hope.' She sat in the tub, letting the water cascade over her body, hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes closing as she tried to force the thought to leave her mind.
xxx
He should be at home, attempting to force sleep upon his frustrated mind. Instead, Gil Grissom sat at his desk, drinking his sixth cup of coffee, looking at the crime scene photographs again, trying to find anything that could help them identify the child in the morgue or her killer. The last of the hot liquid touched his tongue and he scowled at the empty Styrofoam cup before absentmindedly placing it beside the other ones.
The photograph fluttered to his desk as his hand rubbed at his eyes, ridding them of the exhaustion that was creeping upon him. The killer had only left behind shoe prints. There were no fibers, no fingerprints. 'DNA,' he thought and hastily stood up, sending the cups falling to the floor as he exited his office and headed towards the DNA lab.
He ignored the way personnel leaped out of his way, giving him as much space as they could before shaking their heads as they continued their own journeys. Grissom entered the lab and walked over to the dayshift technician, who looked up from the lab work he was completing, a nervous expression on his face. "What were the results on my Jane Doe case?" the night shift supervisor asked.
The technician shook his head. "I don't know, Dr. Grissom," he said. "Mia would have those results and she's been gone for a few hours."
"Well, Mr.--" Grissom said and looked at the lab technician's lab coat, "Akers, find the results for me."
Akers nodded and quickly rose, stumbling towards the stack of papers that might hold an answer. "Uh," he said, flipping through the papers. "Jane Doe?"
"A little girl, about five years old," Grissom replied, his irritation rising with each second. "I doubt we had more than one raped, tortured, and murdered little girl last night."
The technician nodded and pulled out a piece of paper from the stack. "Here are the results," he said, handing it to the supervisor. "It didn't match anyone in CODIS."
Grissom nodded and took the results, leaving a relieved lab technician in his wake. "You never left, did you?"
He looked up from the papers in his hand, finding Sara standing a few feet away from him. "Why are you here?" he asked instead of answering her question, trying to force away the image of the little girl he could see dancing at her side, the one who had his eyes and her smile.
She flinched at the harshness in his tone. "Shoe companies are not open when we're on," she answered, biting back the retort that wanted to fly from her mouth. "Any luck with DNA?"
"I'd have told you if there was," he replied and started towards his office, leaving her alone in the hallway, a little girl's laughter haunting his every step.
xxx
Sara rolled her head to try and loosen her tense neck muscles before looking back at the new shoe prints she had laid out in front of her. She had been successful in tracking down a number of new shoes that might have similar tread patterns to the ones left at the crime scene. Now that the various companies had faxed them to the lab, all she had to do was work at identifying the one that matched and excluding the others. She added another to the reject pile and picked another one, comparing it to the casting she had made.
The sound of footsteps filled her ears as she looked at the various indentations and she shook her head, trying to push the sound away. It was of no use, the steps got louder, echoing in her mind, followed by the gut-wrenching squeak of a door being pulled open. She closed her eyes, her childhood screams reverberating around her, followed by the phantom sting of a cigarette searing her flesh. Gasping for air, she opened her eyes, clinging to the edge of the table in the layout room, forcing herself to calm down, pushing the memories away.
She glanced around her, thankful that no one had witnessed her reaction. Grissom walked by the room and she watched his figure disappear into the breakroom before exiting from it with a Styrofoam cup. She wondered how many cups of coffee he had gone through already. He looked towards her and she scowled as she looked away, hating that he had caught her watching him.
"Find a match?" he asked from the doorway.
She bit her lip to stop herself from answering him the way he had her, 'I'd have told you if there was.' "Not yet," she said, her eyes focused on the papers in front of her.
She examined the shoeprint, hearing his breathing, willing him to leave her in peace. "Sara…" he said and she frowned, turning to look at him.
His blue eyes held hers for a brief second before breaking their gaze and exiting without another word. She shook her head as she watched him go, hating her traitorous feelings. Why was it that when she saw him, all she could think about was curling up in the safety of his embrace? She bit her lip, pleased when she tasted the blood in her mouth, and looked back down at the prints.
A line from a movie meandered around her brain, repeating over and over again. "I want to feel passion, I want to feel pain. I want to weep at the sound of your name. Come make me laugh, come make me cry…just make me feel alive," she whispered, releasing its hold on her.
Her mouth twisted in a sad smile. 'What I'd give to feel alive.'
xxx
Catherine looked down at the victim's purse and sighed, opening the black object. She pulled out the various items, cataloguing each piece and placed them on the table. Her hand retrieved the dead woman's wallet and she opened it, looking at the pictures that were present. She looked up as her name was said in greeting and watched Sara pass the room.
"What are you doing here?" Catherine called, stopping the other woman and causing her to walk into the room.
"I had to call shoe manufacturer's to obtain shoeprints we don't have on file," Sara shrugged and looked at the purse contents. "From your triple murder?"
The swing shift supervisor nodded and looked down at the wallet pictures. "Whole family, gone," she said, shaking her head.
"Robbery?" Sara asked, looking at the pictures over the other woman's shoulder.
"It doesn't appear that anything was taken," Catherine said and flipped through the photographs. "Mother, father, a seven year old boy. The maid went in to clean and found them scattered throughout the room, gun shots to various parts of the bodies."
She stopped at the next one and looked questioningly at it, "I wonder who this is?"
"Oh my god," Sara said, eyes wide as she looked down at the picture of a little girl smiling happily.
Catherine looked up as the younger CSI ran from the room. "Sara," she called, wondering what was going on. She shook her head and went back to cataloguing the rest of the items in the purse.
xxx
Grissom looked up, annoyance evident on his face, as Sara barged into his office. "I know who the little girl is," she said, breathing heavily.
"Who?" he asked.
"I don't know her name," she answered.
"Then how can you know who she is?" he snapped, looking back at the papers before him.
Something inside her cracked and she stared at him for a few seconds, not quite believing his dismissive attitude. She wondered if he was like this with everyone, or did he save his flippant behavior for her. Her eyes watched him continue to stare at the paperwork and she could feel the crack inside her splitting open more and more with each passing second. "Dammit, Grissom!" she growled and he looked up. "Just…just follow me."
She exited the room and he sighed as he followed her through the hallway and into the room Catherine was working. The swingshift supervisor looked up, fixing a startled gaze on the two of them. "Can I see the wallet for a second?" Sara asked, quickly slipping on gloves.
Catherine handed her the wallet and watched as the younger CSI flipped through the pictures before shoving the wallet at Grissom. "It's her," he said.
Sara said nothing, merely nodded and slipped out of the room, letting her feet guide her as far away from Gil Grissom as they could.
TBC