Sara knew she was fighting a losing battle. So much of her needed desperately to keep it all locked inside, yet here she was feeling closer to confessing everything than she ever had done. She grasped Grissom's hand as though her life depended on it; as though letting go would send her tumbling into a spiral of despair from which she would never be able to escape.

"Please-" she began.

Grissom squeezed her hand in return. "Whatever you want, Sara. I'm sorry. I- I don't mean to put pressure on you. You don't have to tell me anything. But don't shut me out. I can't deal with that."

"Why are you here, Grissom?"

"Why do you think?"

"I've tried not to think at all."

"I'm here because- because-" he faltered. Sara could see how hard this was for him. He was struggling to find the words. "Because I care," he managed at last. Those three words meant more to Sara than she could ever express. All those years of dodging the matter in hand; of dropping indecipherable hints; of him distancing her from him in every way possible; his actions had made her so angry. But those three words made up for everything. She just wished he could have said them under any circumstances but these. "Say something." She was interrupted from her thoughts by his nervous voice.

"Like what?" She felt a lump rise in her throat for the millionth time that day and made attempts to swallow it as she had done all those times before.

"That'll do. I just needed to hear your voice."

"Grissom, I-" She stopped, unable to voice her thoughts. He simply stared expectantly at her. She knew, in that instant, that she had to tell him. She couldn't lie to those beautiful eyes; that compassionate nature. He had frustrated her so much in the past, yet in this moment she only knew that he would do anything for her, and she him. And she couldn't keep this from him. She opened her mouth. But the words wouldn't come. She couldn't say it. Instead she reluctantly let go of Grissom's hand and sat up further in the bed.

"What is it?"

She motioned to the covers and he gently pulled them back so that her body was exposed, still dressed in black cords and a T-shirt from earlier in the evening. Then he waited expectantly. Silently she pulled back her trouser leg to reveal the bandage and then the other leg, uncovering skin damaged by numerous cuts and grazes. Slowly she looked up at Grissom. He was staring at her legs, incomprehension and confusion on his face. Still she couldn't find the words. But she had – no, they had – taken the first step. Now there was no turning back.

Nick and Catherine had returned to the lab after their brief trip to the hospital. Both felt exasperated by Sara, but their frustration was rooted in concern. They knew that there was far more to Sara's departure than she was letting on and they truly hoped that Grissom's visit would have some kind of effect on her.

As they arrived back at the lab they were immediately greeted by Warrick and Greg.

"What's going on, guys?" Warrick questioned.

"I wish I knew," Nick sighed. "What are we going to do with her? Why does she do these things to herself?"

Greg looked puzzled. "There's more to her odd behaviour than mood swings then."

"Mood swings?" Catherine mocked. "Come on, Greg!"

Greg seemed hurt. "I don't know, do I? Sara's unpredictable like that."

"She certainly is," Catherine agreed. "And she's getting more so by the day."

"Well, we'll find out what's going on soon enough," Warrick commented.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Catherine replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Last thing we knew she was still set on leaving."

"You've got to be kidding?"

"I wish I was."

"When did this happen?"

"Four days ago."

"But you were at work."

"I left early, remember. I went home at two o'clock."

"A headache?" he recalled.

"Yes." Sara answered the question matter-of-factly. She was getting through this conversation purely by treating it as she would a professional situation; an interview.

"But how? When? Where?"

Grissom's desperate voice did not help Sara. She closed her eyes, focusing on getting through the next few minutes.

"I drove halfway. But I was too tired and my head was throbbing. I parked in a car park and decided to walk the rest of the way. It was only fifteen minutes. Well, it was supposed to be-" She felt her hand begin to shake and clenched it into a fist. "I took a shortcut through the park."

"Sara! After everything we see? At 2am you decided to go for a stroll through a dark wooded area!"

"Grissom!" Sara lost control and felt her whole body begin to shake as the horrific memories flooded back. Grissom immediately looked ashamed. He moved over onto the bed with Sara and wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm so sorry, honey. That was completely wrong of me. I didn't mean it." He watched Sara wipe her glassy eyes, guilt wracking him.

"No, you're right. It's my fault. I was so stupid. In a way I deserved it."

It hurt Grissom to hear those words come from her mouth. "Never, never say that. Whatever happened; whoever it was; you didn't deserve it."

"But how else could anyone do that? How could it happen, if it wasn't some kind of punishment, Grissom? Why else would he have done it?" Sara gave in and tears flowed down her cheeks. It was beginning to feel more normal for her to be crying than for her not to be. Grissom embraced her, murmuring soothing sounds. He rocked her gently in his arms.

"Listen to yourself, Sara. How many times have you heard victims speak like that and convinced them that they were wrong? I'm not as good at that as you, so you're going to have to help yourself. None of this is your fault."

"I know that. Really I do, deep inside." Sara pulled away and looked into Grissom's eyes. This was all going far too fast, but she couldn't stop now. "But it doesn't help. It doesn't get rid of the memories." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was now or never. "He attacked me Grissom. He attacked me and he- he- he raped me."

She could almost hear Grissom drawing in his breath. He pulled away from her whilst still holding onto her hands. He tried to look into her eyes, but she would not meet his gaze. He felt as though his life had just been ripped in two. He could not begin to imagine how Sara herself felt. A mélange of emotions washed over him. Despair, anger, guilt, even a strange sense of grief for an innocence lost; a simplicity which could never be regained. But more than anything he felt an overwhelming sense of duty to Sara. She had confided in him; she had gone against everything her mind had been telling her to do. And he was not going to let her down. Sara had not got rid of her problem, not by a long way, but she had shared it. And that was a step in the right direction.