Chapter 3: The Nerve of Sorrow

"Guilt is the very nerve of sorrow."- Horace Bushnell

"Sara left the blanket and basket here," Nick finally cut in, after the silence of Greg and Sara's departure. "Shall I process them?" He didn't really feel a need to, but he had to do something to get rid of the silence. This was going to be one hell of a crime scene to process. Experienced criminalist or not, investigating the kidnapping of your surrogate niece, who was one of the few people who actually liked your country music, was torture.

He had held Lissy the day after she was born- just like all the other CSIs who would end up working the case. Just like Brass, the captain acting as primary detective. Shortly put- this case was going to suck.

Better get started, then.

"No need." Grissom finally spoke. "Did anyone get an official statement from Sara?"

Silence.

Just more proof, Nick decided, that this case was different. Normally, the parents wouldn't have been allowed to move an inch before a statement was taken. And here they were already on their way home, without saying anything at all.

He was suddenly very glad he wasn't primary CSI on this case.

"Jim-" Grissom didn't even finish his sentence before Brass cut in.

"I'll go to their place. They move in the last three months?"

"Sara did." Nick found himself saying. "She moved out. But Greg kept the house and the kids are still living with him." Pointless information, a simple 'no' would have sufficed. But…he felt like he needed to say something to fill the silence. And why was the silence bothering him so much?

When working a scene, the investigators rarely held conversations. They were too focused on their work and the evidence. Sure, they'd ask questions or occasionally joke or comment, but often enough they lapsed into silence and it was never bothersome. They needed to concentrate on the evidence after all and it seemed the silence was the best way to do that- except for Greg. The man had a habit of just…talking. Geez, if Nick hadn't known better, he would have thought the man was stuck up, in love with hearing his own voice. But the truth was that it was just Greg- one of the man's many quirks and he did realize when silence was needed and oh, the way he looked, when he realized the woman was Sara…

Do not think about Greg, Stokes. Concentrate.

How the heck was he supposed to do that?

"Then I'll go there." Brass broke through the silence. Putting away his notepad, he turned before leaving. It was almost as if he knew what Nick was thinking. "We'll find her."

Nick could only hope.

Grissom's cell phone decided to ring at that time and Nick felt vaguely idiotic just standing there. He needed to treat this as a normal case, no matter abnormal it really was. A kidnapping- check the perimeter, check the bathrooms, check the parking lot, check the trees. Interview everyone, ask about suspicious characters or events. Did they remember Lissy? What had she been doing? Follow protocol, Stokes, and don't freeze up like an idiot. Be the seasoned investigator you are.

"No, Catherine. You'll need to go straight to the house. 1112 Avellino Lane. Brass will meet you there. I need Warrick at the scene." Grissom hung up without ever revealing the identity of the victim. Nick raised his brow.

"Are you planning on surprising her? Or why didn't you say anything?"

"She knows the address." Grissom's answer was short, curt- and held much more meaning than intended.

Nick stared at a moment, before opening his mouth. "You- you want her to go in there unaware. But why? Don't you think it would be best for her to be prepared?"

"I told her the address." Grissom only said, before picking up his kit.

"Yeah, but she's not going to recognize it. Not when she's not expecting it. It won't be until she gets there that she'll know."

"Just process the scene, Nick." And he walked off to go examine the swings, where Lissy was supposedly last seen.

Nick stared after him, before going to interview witnesses.

What was up with the man?

Tapping her hands on the steering wheel, Catherine hummed softly along with the radio, while waiting for the red light. Gil had been quite…short, on the phone. Not that the man was ever extremely wordy- but he did usually reveal a bit more. And he had also…sounded different. Shrugging, she stepped on the gas as the light turned and turned down the road. He probably just had a bit of a cold- they were going around.

But when the scenery became more and more familiar, Catherine frowned. This was near where Greg and Sara lived, wasn't it? What was their address again? Something with an 'A'…and Lane. And the numbers were consecutive. Damn it, this was going to annoy her. Her eyes fell on the address she had scribbled down on the pad on the dash. 1112 Avellino Lane…

She almost reached for her cell to call them and make sure. But- it was ridiculous. Gil would have said something, if it was them. And she was sure that Lissy and Eirik were both fine. She had just seen them the day before yesterday, when Greg had had them for a bit in the lab. He had commandeered the TV and VCR in the break room to play Mulan for them, she remembered- and eventually had most of the Nightshift watching it as well. It had been a really slow night….

They're both fine, she told herself. It's just probably a neighbor. Plus- if something did happen to one of them, Greg would be off the case, and Grissom hadn't mentioned anything about that.

But as she turned the last corner and saw the squad cars parked in front of the familiar house- she knew.

Oh my God…

She had been lucky with Lindsey. For all her teenage tactics, the worst that had happened was her hitch-hiking. And even when Eddie had been murdered and Lindsey had been trapped in the car- Lindsey had turned out fine. Scared, of course. But everything had worked out.

Kidnappings were an entirely different story.

It all depended on the reason, of course. There were several different kinds- and all with different outcomes. But the basics were the same- you never knew. You never could know, until you had actually found the child. And while the crime lab did have a very high solve rate- there were still cases they never solved.

Kidnappings were the worst.

She hated them.

Parking across the street, she hurried around to get her kit before walking over to their house. She had been there many times, for several different occasions. But this- this was definitely the worst. A sedan pulled in the driveway and Catherine recognized it as Brass'. She hesitated on the walkway for a moment, allowing him to catch up to her.

"It's-" She started to ask, but stopped, not knowing how to continue.

"Yeah." Brass shook his head. "Completely unexpected too- she had fainted and had just woken up when I arrived there with Gil, Nick and Greg. No one knew a thing towards the identity until Greg sees her sitting there. And I still haven't gotten a statement," he adds, lifting up his notepad. "It wasn't a pleasant scene."

"I didn't expect it would be." Taking a large breath, she rang the doorbell.

It was an officer that opened the door, leading them inside after they identified themselves. "They're in the living room."

While neither she nor Brass needed help finding their way, they both followed the officer anyway. The living room was a spacious room with a fireplace Greg and Sara kept blocked off, a comfy couch, a few armchairs and a desk, along with several bookshelves, filled with everything from Winnie the Pooh to the latest AAFS newsletter. There was also a very nice sound system and a TV hidden away in a cabinet, along with a legion of different movies.

It was a nice room, ready for entertaining, but also ready for kids. But today, the comfy feel of the room was gone. Another officer stood to the right of the door as they entered, while Sara was sitting helplessly in an armchair and Greg was pacing with Eirik. Another officer was currently trying to speak to Sara, who was not responding.

The room felt dead.

There may not have been any bodies around, or blood or anything else that hinted towards a murder. And there was certainly a chance that Lissy was okay. Being kidnapped didn't mean she was dead, thank heavens. And while yes, there were certainly kidnappings that turned into murders… Catherine shuddered. She didn't want to think of that. But still… so far, there was no reason not to believe that Lissy was going to be all right.

So why is it so hard?

Perhaps it was because they couldn't fool themselves. Each and every one of them had worked kidnappings before and they all knew how they worked. Investigating them was bad enough. You raced against the clock, hoping, praying that you'd solve the case in time. But this time- it was personal. While working the case, Lissy would be in their minds, the way she was so thrilled to get her ant farm from Gil, the way she delighted over the piano music Warrick had gotten her, the way she had decided she wanted to be a hero just like Mulan the other night. This was Lissy.

"Hey…" Brass broke the silence, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. Taking her cue, she stepped inside and put down her kit. "Sara, I need to get your statement now. You mind?"

"It's okay." Her voice was hoarse. "Here?"

"Here's fine." He walked over and Catherine realized it was her turn now.

"And I'll need DNA samples, something for the scent dogs- you know the drill," she nodded at Greg. The man was still in his field vest and clothes from the crime scene, and if it hadn't been for the despondent look on his face, she would have thought he was still working.

"Right…" He lowered Eirik to the floor, before straightening and running a hand through his hair. "Um, Lis' blanket would probably be the best for scent- she sleeps with it every night, used to carry it around with her everywhere…haven't gotten around to washing it in a while. I- I'll go grab it…"

She hated seeing the normally upbeat and cheery CSI so full of hurt. She watched him move past her, back into the hall, before she turned to Eirik, who was still standing where Greg left him. It occurred to her that Eirik probably had no idea what was going on. Which, in a way, she could understand- he was only two. On the other hand, even at two he was able to sense something was wrong- she could read it in his expression.

He wanted his mother.

And Sara was just sitting there.

Before she could do anything, Greg came thundering down the stairs, a baby quilt clutched in his hands. He was also minus the vest, she noticed. "Here, this is her blanket, and I'll go get the DNA samples, they're in the fridge."

He almost left right then, but then he seemed to notice Eirik, who was now standing beside Sara, holding his arms up to her as he repeated 'Mammy' over and over again. Sara was still oblivious, however. Brass was talking to the officer who had been trying to communicate with Sara before, and Sara was just…staring…off into the distance.

Greg frowned. "Sara?" No response. "Sara?" Still no response. Catherine watched as his eyes narrowed. "Sara!" he practically yelled, causing everyone in the room to turn to him. The woman he had actually wanted to get the attention of turned towards him vaguely. He motioned towards Eirik. "Eirik. He wants you."

"Oh."

If the last hour had not existed, Catherine would have slapped her upside the head for that remark. But chalking up some of her listlessness to the horrid experience she had just gone through previously, Catherine decided to give her a break.

A small one.

She knew that Sara had always had a problem…identifying as a mother. She understood that Sara had had a terrible childhood and had little to no experience with children until she was a mother herself. And yes, she realized that being a mother meant different things to different people. But unlike Greg, who was also new to parenting when he became a father- Sara had very little will to learn how to be a parent. Both of them had made mistakes- stupid, new parent things like putting on the diapers backwards. But while Greg had been eager to learn the right way- every mistake Sara made just seemed to push her away.

Catherine couldn't really sympathize with that.

And that was one of the main problems between the two women.

"So pick him up." Greg finally spelled out as Sara just sat there staring at her son.

"Oh." She jerkily leaned down to plop him in her lap.

"I'll go get the samples now," Greg finally muttered, but this time she followed him as he left.

The kitchen was a spacious room, and a nice room, decorated comfortably with flowered curtains and bright tiles and dishes. But there was no reason there should be DNA belonging to Lissy in the kitchen- not unless Greg intended to use a glass she had recently used. And as a former DNA tech himself, he would certainly know that the easiest way to get DNA was a tooth brush, not a used cup or utensil.

That is, until Greg reached into the fridge and brought out a rack of test tubes and DNA swabs in evidence boxes.

He grinned at her look. "What? Yes, I'll admit to swabbing and taking blood from them both when they were babies." He sobered up. "I always figured it was 'just in case'- not that anything would ever happen…"

She gave him a reassuring smile as she took the blood filled test tube and swab from him. Both were already labeled 'RES, 09/25/07' – her initials and birth date and Catherine placed them in the evidence bag she had ready. Then she turned- and hugged him.

He stiffened at first, but then he relaxed, squeezing her back once, before stepping back. There were tears in his eyes, but she could see that he was fighting against them when he gave a slightly choked chuckle. "I look that bad?"

"Yes," she said frankly, before giving him supporting smile. "You do. You're still in the clothes you started last night's shift in and you were on a double before Gil pulled you off. You need at least a change of clothes and a shower, and I'd also suggest sleep and tea."

He frowned at the word 'tea'. "I hate tea."

"Whatever then- just I wouldn't recommend caffeine until you actually get some real sleep." She sealed the evidence bag and initialed it. Turning to him, she became staid. "I'm not going to lie or sugar-coat anything, Greg. No point. The fact is, you and Sara are both going through hell now, and it will only get worse until we find her. Get some rest, clean up, spend some time with your son and try not to dwell, if that's possible. Gil's got the entire team on this case. We will find her. Just try to hold on until then."

"I-" He opened up his mouth, and she could see the tears running down his cheeks- tangible proof that the battle he had been fighting inside himself had been lost. "I can't just sit back, not when-"

"You have to." She met his eyes with hers. "You know you can't be on this case. Trust us, Greg."

And she left, leaving the despairing man behind her.

She doesn't like it anymore. It's cold and it's dark and it's not fun. Not like it was supposed to be. She wants to move, but she can't. She's tied up too tight. She wants a blanket. She wants her blanket. She wants her brother and her dad and she even wants her mom. Even though her mom's been weird lately.

She's missing Scooby Doo. She loves Scooby Doo- he's the coolest dog detective ever. It comes on in the afternoon and her dad always lets her watch it. He even watches it with her sometimes. Her watch glows in the dark and she can read that it's 1:14 pm and Scooby's been on for fourteen minutes already. Her daddy taught her how to tell time.

She wants her daddy.

He can be weird sometimes, but he's fun. She wonders if he's already looking for her. He has to be. And her mom- her mom would have seen her go away. Her mom would have told her dad and they would have both done something. Even though her mom and dad have been mad at each other lately.

It's so dark.

She hates the dark. At home she has a nice lamp in the corner of her room. It stays on all night and she never has to be afraid of the dark. Even if it's afternoon and Scooby is on, it's still dark. She shivers.

Footsteps.

She stops wriggling and looks up as the noise gets louder. Maybe someone is there and they'll save her! "Daddy! Mommy! Help me!"

Then the steps stop and the door opens up. She looks up, blinking against the sudden onslaught of light. There's…something there…legs, and a body and arms, and then she looks up to see the face.

She freezes.

She screams.