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 helping me think things out. And hugs to all of you for reading and reviewing.

Part Four

It was as though she was grappling to stay above water, moving her arms and legs in a steady motion to keep from going under, holding back the fatigue that was threatening to pull her down. She forced a smile as the waitress brought over the fruit salad and refilled her cup of coffee before asking, "I haven't seen you here in ages. Where's the rest of your usual entourage?"

Sara shrugged. "Working," she replied. "Thank you."

The woman walked away and the CSI turned her attention to look out the window. She leaned back into the vinyl red cushion, sipping her coffee as the people of Las Vegas went on with their lives. Her observational skills never left her, not even when she wasn't working, and as she watched men and women walk by the window she couldn't help but notice little things. It was what she was paid to do, what had helped her survive her childhood. Bottles in the trashcan had meant she would need to stay out of her parents' way as did the sound of incessant tapping along the arm of her father's favorite chair. The lack of her brother's motorcycle in the driveway meant she was on her own and that she should seek refuge in one of the trees in their backyard. The sound of glass breaking told her to hide in her closet.

Shaking her head, she looked away from the window and took a bite of the salad. Her cell phone rang and she removed it from her purse, rolling her eyes at Grissom's name on the small screen. She silenced the call and waited for it to end before placing it on vibrate. Her pager went off next and she sighed, removing it from her purse and frowning at the text message. 'Call Gris. No thank you,' she thought and took another bite of the salad. 'I'm not on yet, he can have someone else come in to rant and rave at.'

Carelessly she tossed the cell phone and pager back in her purse and leaned back against the booth, her gaze once again focused on the people walking by. A family walked by and her eyes traveled to the little brown haired girl holding her parents' hands and swinging between the two as they walked. Sara looked away, frowning at the coffee mug in her hands. A fleeting feeling of her hands wrapped in her parents washed over her, her own childhood laughter filling her ears, before it turned to her screams.

She shook her head again, silently cursing the memories she couldn't escape. 'Why won't they leave me alone?' she wondered, sipping the coffee. She felt her purse vibrate against her leg and sighed, pulling her cell phone out and looking at Grissom's name on the display again. Her eyes narrowed at the sight and she shoved the object back in her purse, scowling as she bit into a piece of orange.

'I didn't deserve any of that,' she growled to herself, spearing another bit of orange. He had been dismissive to her, treated her like she was a first year rookie, not taking her seriously. She pushed the plate aside and bit her lip in frustration. Grasping the coffee mug, she sighed. She knew the case was getting to him, could see it in the way he moved, the way he sat, by the agitated rise of his eyebrow when he looked at paperwork. 'It doesn't give him the right to walk all over me though,' she reminded herself.

It had hurt. She didn't know what was worse, that he could still hurt her or that she let him. Her purse vibrated again and she gripped the mug tighter, resisting the urge to fling her purse across the diner. Standing up, she walked towards the cash register, quickly paid her bill, and exited the establishment. Pushing her sunglasses to cover her eyes, she donned a stony expression. It was time to head back to the lab, work on more shoe prints, and deal with Gil Grissom. 'Though he may have gone home,' she thought hopefully, knowing that the probability of that was minimal.

The ride back was short, surprising Sara. 'Why is it whenever I want there to be a lot of traffic, there's none?' she thought grimly as she unbuckled herself and exited her vehicle. 'He's around here somewhere.' It was the only way to account for the tense expressions in the lab as she walked in. Footsteps echoed in her ears and she shook her head, forcing the memories away.

Her plan to head straight for the shoe prints and start working was foiled when he stepped out of the layout room and locked his gaze with hers. She didn't think she had ever seen him look at her with such fury before. "My office, now," he said, his voice low, the ferocity of it evident.

She rolled her eyes and followed him towards it, ignoring the anxious looks sent their way as they passed. The door slammed shut behind her and she sank into one of the seats in front of his desk, dumping her purse in the other one, before looking back at him, letting the annoyance in her eyes shine through. "What the hell was that, Sara?" he demanded.

She didn't answer, jutting her chin out in defiance. His eyes narrowed, taking in her rebellious posture and he shook his head. "You leave and don't answer your phone--" he began.

"I didn't have to answer," she replied coldly. "Not my shift and I wasn't on call."

She watched him falter at her tone, looking at her curiously, before anger clouded his face again. "Do you have any idea what could have happened if Ecklie was here, Sara?" he asked. "You could have been suspended, or worse."

"You mean I could have been fired," she said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe that would be for the best."

He opened his mouth to speak again, interrupted by a knock on the door. Throwing her an irate look, he turned and opened it.

A terrified receptionist stood outside and handed him some forms, asking for his signature. Sara sighed as she watched him, running her fingers along the arm of the chair. Her eyes roamed to his desk. 'Do I really not care?' she wondered. The door shut and she flinched at the squeaking it made, gripping the arms of the chairs. 'No,' she thought, trying to steady her breathing. He was talking and she tried to latch onto his words, to listen to the anger in them. He paused and in that instant of silence she heard the sound of glass shattering, and gasped for air. She could feel her heart speed up, her breathing becoming erratic and she closed her eyes, trying to push back the memories that came at her with a vengeance.

And in that moment, her ability to tread water gave way and she felt herself sink, not knowing how she would be able to resurface.

xxx

"Sara…" Grissom stepped towards her, his eyes widening in disbelief, the heated words he had been planning to say, disappearing from his mind.

She slid from the chair, collapsing to the ground, gasping for air, as she gripped the legs of the other chair. His hand touched her arm and his mouth twisted at how cold she felt. Repeating her name, he moved to shift her body so he could see her face. "I …I can't breath," she gasped, her eyes full of terror as she struggled for air, closing them tightly as tears slid down her face.

"Sara," he murmured, grasping her shoulders to keep her upright. "You're having a panic attack. Focus on my voice."

Grissom kept his voice neutral, not wanting to aggravate her any further as he watched her grapple for air, her tears flowing more freely. "You need to breathe, Sara," he murmured, rubbing her arms, trying to soothe her. "Work on trying to steady your breaths."

"I can't," she cried out, dropping her head to her chest, violently thrashing against his grip, desperate to get away from him. 'I don't need you. I don't want you.' Her crying became harder, her gasps for air more difficult.

"Yes you can," he said, laying her down on the floor, trying to still her movements. "Breathe, concentrate on breathing."

He wasn't sure how long he knelt next to her, running his fingers through her hair and talking to her, trying to calm her and get her to breathe properly. Finally she did, her eyes opening and locking with his. Outside of the office he heard the noises of the lab. It wouldn't be long before someone looked in and wondered what was going on. 'She needs to get out of here.'

Grissom moved closer to her and pulled her up. "Sara, can you walk?" he asked, grabbing his keys from the desk. She didn't move and he braced an arm around her before steering her out of the office and down the hallway, ignoring the glances their way.

"Grissom?" Catherine called and he walked past her, disregarding her calls after them.

There was no resistance in Sara as they walked and it worried him. Pulling open the door to the passenger seat of his Denali he watched as she sat down and buckled herself in, her expression lifeless, her eyes blank as she stared ahead. He closed the door and walked towards the driver's side.

She had shattered into a million pieces in front of him and all he had done was watch. Glancing across the seat at her, he worried over the surrender in her posture and started the ignition, driving them away from the lab, wondering what he could do to help, dreading that it was too late for him to help.

"I don't think I can do this anymore," she said, breaking the silence in the car.

He glanced over at her, watching as she stared down at her hands. "Sara?" he asked, not quite sure what she meant.

"I want to live, Grissom," she whispered, leaning her head onto the cool glass. "And I have no idea how."

Her eyes closed again and he reached across the seat, grasping one of her hands in his, alarmed at how cold she still felt. "It's human nature to love, to be loved. I don't think I can," she continued, pulling her hand from his and wrapping it protectively around her stomach. "Maybe I'm not supposed to."

Grissom listened to her breathing even out as she surrendered to exhaustion. He knew that something had to be done, but was unsure what. So, he kept driving, uncertain where he was going, hoping that when he figured out their destination he would uncover a way to help fix this.

xxx

Sara blinked and took in her bearings, noting the sparse furnishings. 'I'm at Grissom's,' she realized, her eyes fixing on the man sitting in the chair opposite her. His blue eyes were focused on her, worry evident in them. She looked away, silently cursing him. 'Why did he have to bring me here?'

"I want to go to my apartment," she said, breaking the silence and looked up at him, her eyes void of any emotion. 'Not my home. I don't have a home.'

"What is going on?" he asked, ignoring her statement.

"I want to go to my apartment," she repeated, standing up, and looking around at her feet. "Where's my purse?"

"My office," he replied. "Sit down, Sara."

She refused, moving away from the chair to stand by one of the windows, looking out at the scorching sunlight. His eyes were still on her, and she knew he was studying her, observing her like all of his insects. Analyzing her, comparing her, trying to put her into a category he could decipher. "Stop it," she growled.

"Stop what?" he asked, calmly.

She shook her head at the ease radiating from him. He was always in so much control, keeping order in all parts of his life. "I'm not one of your god damn specimens, Grissom," she replied. "Stop trying to figure me out."

There was no answer and she was unsure whether or not that made her happy as she leaned her head against the cool glass. "What happened in my office?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"It doesn't matter," she sighed, watching as people drifted by outside, busily going on with their daily lives. 'I have no daytime life,' she thought, tracing figure eights on the window. 'I've been consumed by the night.'

"Of course it matters," he replied, and she shook her head at his voice. "You had a panic attack in my office."

"Look, Gris, I promise it won't happen again at work," she answered, giving him the answer she thought he needed to hear.

She smiled wryly to herself when there was no immediate answer. 'Maybe I can leave now.'

"Is it happening at your apartment too?" he asked and she frowned, not answering immediately. "Sara?"

She whirled around, her face a fury of emotions. "What do you want from me? Explain it please, because I can't keep doing this. One minute you're nice, trying to see how I am, concerned about my feelings and the next you could care less if I was there, biting my head off, treating me as though I was a CSI level 1," she yelled, venting her frustrations.

His eyes widened and she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes. 'Good,' she thought. 'I'm sick of being the one who is always hurting.'

"I told you more than I've ever told another living soul because I thought I could trust you," she continued, unable to stop the words leaving her mouth. "That was a joke. How can I trust someone whose job it seems is to continually jerk me around? I can't live like this, I can't work like this. I deserve more."

"Yes you do," he whispered, his voice full of sadness.

"No!" she yelled, pointing a finger at him. "You do not get to sit there and act sad, as though you … as though you actually care."

"I hate you," she said softly, hugging herself.

He didn't say a word, didn't move a muscle. "I have to go to my apartment," she said and started past him, not looking at him, not wanting her resolve to break.

He touched her arm and she stopped, shaking her head as she did. "Why won't you just let me go?" she whispered, tears running freely down her face.

"Don't leave," he said his voice barely audible.

She hiccupped and allowed her resolve to break, looking over at him, startled by the vulnerability she witnessed. His hand grasped hers and she sank to her knees. "I can't do this anymore," she whispered, leaning her head against his knee.

"Neither can I," he replied and somewhere far away he could hear the sound of a little girl crying softly, desperate to find her way back home.

TBC