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Chapter 3 Nightmares and Sound Sleep

"I should go," Sarah said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Your car—"

"I'll call a cab."

"Let me call Nick or Greg—"

"They're probably sleeping. I'll be fine in a cab—" Before the conversation could continue, the otherwise silent home vibrated with the sound of a little girl's scream. They both started running at the same time but Sara reached the little girl first and saw that she was having a nightmare. Hannah was screaming and trying to fight something imaginary by kicking and flailing her arms. Sara gently crawled into the king sized bed and pulled the little girl into her arms, pinning her gently so that she couldn't hurt herself. Eventually, as Sara rocked her and soothed her cries, the little girl calmed down and her eyes flipped open, that blue gaze as soulful and knowledgeable as ever.

"It was just a dream, baby," Sara whispered softly. Hannah turned around and buried herself in Sara's arms, her sobs eventually moving into hiccup territory. "It's okay now. We're here." She was still rocking Hannah when Grissom returned from the kitchen, a glass of apple juice in his hand. He handed it to the little girl, who looked him over cautiously before accepting it. Sara helped her sip until the hiccups stopped.

"Thank you," the little girl whispered to Grissom.

"So you can talk," Sara chided with a good-natured smile. "I don't think you've been properly introduced. "Hannah Grissom, this is Gil Grissom." She continued in a whisper. "He's a good guy."

"Do you want to talk about your dream?"

"No thank you."

"Sometimes it helps."

"I don't think so," the little girl answered politely.

"Okay. I can understand that. Well, how about we get you into something better to sleep in? Does she have a bag?" The last question was directed at Grissom, who was the one who had the most information.

"Mr. McCall gave me a small bag. It's in the car."

"Well, we'll just have to look into a bubble bath while Gil goes to get your bag." Grissom tried to give Sara a look of thanks but she gave him a half smile, indicating that she didn't mind; she was just as enamored with the little girl as the little girl was with her. After Grissom left the room, Sara carried Hannah into the large bathroom and looked around.

"This is definitely a man's bathroom," Sara said with a shake of her head. Hannah almost smiled at the exasperation in the older woman's voice as she walked around in search of proper bath accoutrements. "We'll have to make our own bubble bath," she said after searching every cabinet.

"We can make bubble bath?"

"Yep," Sara said with a grin, not mentioning that this was the first sentence the girl had formed. "Wanna help?" Hannah nodded so Sara led her out into the kitchen where they located salt and an old bottle. Back in the bathroom, Sara showed Hannah how to measure the shampoo, water, and salt. They were having a lot of fun mixing by shaking the bottle when Grissom returned.

"What's going on in here?" He posed the question gently and, surprising to even herself, Hannah answered.

"We made bubbles," she said excitedly.

"I see that. What smart girls. I don't think there's anything you couldn't do."

"I don't think so either," Sara said as she reached over to tickle Hannah. The little girl giggled and they all laughed. It was a good few moments that released a lot of the earlier tension. Grissom located a nightgown in Hannah's tiny bag and Sara laid it aside after looking at it questioningly. "We'll go shopping later," she said decisively. She leaned over to run the water and she noticed that Hannah, who was standing next to her, seemed to be edging away from the tub.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Hannah didn't answer, simply continued to back away from the tub until she bumped into Grissom, who was sitting in the doorway observing. "Hannah, what's wrong?" Sara tried to take the little girl in her arms and pull her back towards the tub. Hannah refused, kicking and screaming until Sara finally gave up, turning off the water and sitting back on the tile floor in defeat. "Why no bath?"

"I'm sorry. I'll be good," the little girl said shakily.

"You're fine, sweetie. We're not mad. You're being very good," Sara assured her. "You're allowed to be afraid. Just tell me why."

"Please no," the little girl insisted, shaking her head vehemently.

"Okay," Sara assured her. "No bath. We'll find another way." Gently, she took the little girl's hand and pulled her towards the tub, which was currently filled with about an inch of water and a few bubbles. "I have you," Sara promised her. "I just want you to touch the water. Okay?" Hannah looked unconvinced but she did tentatively reach into the tub and let her hand briefly brush the water. Her other hand stayed clutched to Sara's sweater. "See? It won't hurt you. Are you sure you don't want to try?" The little girl shook her head again so Sara gave up and reached for a washcloth.

"Can we take off your dress so you can get cleaned up?" Hannah nodded, her eyes fixed on Sara's; she trusted this woman. Sara gently removed the little girl's dress and blouse and then wrapped a towel around her waist. She then wrung out the washcloth and gently washed Hannah, avoiding several suspicious and painful looking bruises. After she was dressed in her nightgown, Grissom handed her an extra toothbrush and then lifted her to the mirror so that she could see while she brushed her teeth. She did not complain when Grissom, instead of Sara, carried her into the bedroom.

"Do you think you can sleep a little longer?" Hannah answered with an involuntary yawn.

"We'll take that as a yes," Sara said with a smile. She leaned down and kissed Hannah's forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby girl."

"Sara?"

"Yep?"

"Will you stay?" So the little girl was observant enough to realize that this was not Sara's home. Sara looked uncomfortably at Grissom and bit her lip before coming up with the best possible answer.

"I'll be here when you wake up, okay?" Hannah nodded, satisfied with that answer. She snuggled into the comforter that Grissom tucked around her and had closed her eyes by the time the adults left the room.

"Keys and credit card," Sara demanded as soon as they reached the living room.

"What?"

"Your keys and your credit card," she said as she extended her hand. "I'm going to grab a few things from my place and then go shopping. She needs proper clothing for one thing. A car seat, a coat. Not to mention the fact that you probably don't have any kid-friendly food."

"Sara, you don't have to do this—" He said as he reached into his wallet and extracted a credit card and then reached for his keys.

"Like I sleep anyway," she said as she took the offered items. She started toward the door and turned back just before leaving. "Hey Griss?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to worry too much. This will work out."

"Thanks. I needed to hear that." After an hour in Gap Kids and Carter's, Sara was pretty sure she had purchased enough to keep the little girl clothed for a year. A winter coat and shoes followed the clothes into a pile in the back of Grissom's car. A child's booster seat was purchased after that, along with several styles of childproof cups. Crystal glasses and a four year old simply did not mix. After a quick stop at her apartment to pack a bag and get a shower, Sara returned to Grissom's townhouse.

She grabbed two of the bags and let herself into the home, calling out quietly as she entered. She found her boss sitting in the hallway outside his bedroom, staring into the room.

"Still sleeping?" He nodded. "Let's talk." He followed her into the living room and they sat side by side on the sofa, staring straight ahead and remaining quiet for some time.

"Sara, I don't know what to do with this."

"You'll figure it out," she assured him.

"What if I don't?"

"Then she'll figure you out. She's a smart kid, Griss."

"Yeah, I noticed. But I don't get it. That idiot that brought her here said she was slow. He thought she should be immediately tested for autism."

"Somehow, I don't think he knew what he was talking about. She's intelligent. You don't have to spend more than five minutes with her to know that."

"But why would he suspect otherwise?"

"She wouldn't talk. He didn't understand it."

"But you did."

"Takes one to know one," Sara said simply. "She's been abused. You saw those bruises."

"Yeah. Who could do that to a little girl?"

"People are sick." It was the only explanation that she could muster; nothing else made any sense. "Did CYS give you any information? A file? Medical records?"

"Mr. McCall told me that they couldn't locate a file and they didn't have time to start one before bringing her here."

"I'll call Catherine and ask who Lindsey sees. I'll try to get an appointment for her asap."

"Sara, thank you—" She shook her head and interrupted his words.

"Here's the deal," she said firmly. "I'll help you. And you stop thanking me for the mere act of being a decent human being."

"It's a deal," he agreed. "You must be tired. You should try to get some sleep."

"I was just going suggest that. There's enough room in your bed for me. You get the couch."

"I was afraid of that." They both knew it didn't matter; neither one of them would surpass simply fulfilling the pretense of sleep. Sara changed into her pajamas and crawled into the king sized bed, being careful not to wake the peacefully sleeping Hannah. She must have actually fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, she was being watched. Normally, the feeling would have woken her up in a defensive mode but luckily she remembered where she was.