Grissom and Sara were both silent in the car, only talking now and then to confirm that he was heading in the right direction. They were fast moving out of the tougher parts of the inner-city neighbourhoods, towards more peaceful, better-off areas. Now and then, when they stopped at traffic lights, he would reach over and squeeze her knee, comforting her and appeasing himself.

Eventually, after one last point of Sara's finger, Grissom pulled the car into a space in a small car park that was tacked on to the back of an equally small, but homely-looking diner.

"I used to come out here when I came back to visit mom in my college vacations," Sara explained.

"You didn't go to Florida for spring break like all the other kids?" he asked, with a half-smile playing about his lips. He then attempted to erase the pictures that cropped up in his mind, of Sara with her college co-eds, lying around sunny hotel swimming pools, catching the eyes of their male counterparts. Pictures he associated with his teenage years, hiding Playboy magazines under his mattress, were swiftly locked away in some inaccessible part of his subconscious, along with a pang of jealousy.

"Yeah, right," Sara replied, making a derisive sound. "No, I'd come out here during my breaks and sit in a booth reading physics textbooks." They both made their way to the diner's entrance, her holding the door open for Gil, savouring the feel of reversing their roles.

"Don't blame you," came Grissom's tight-throated reply. "What would you like?" he asked, fishing out his wallet.

"Hot chocolate, please," she answered. "I'll find us a booth."

Grissom ordered their drinks and made his way over to a booth near the back of the diner. "Bring back any memories?"

She shrugged indifferently. "Sort of."

"Hmm?" he pushed, ever so gently.

Sara looked at him, startling him with the look of sheer naked apprehension and fear in her eyes. "Everything that was bad that happened to me was pretty much over by then ….". Her lips stilled as they were presented with the drinks. Sara nodded and smiled her thanks, wrapping her hands around the warm mug in front of her.

"Pretty much?" Grissom echoed softly. Sara nodded. "You want to tell me, don't you?"

His complete gentleness and patience and dignity and chivalry made Sara want to dissolve into tears. "Yeah," she confessed, smiling sadly. "But I don't know what you'll think. I mean, what are you supposed to think of me now?"

"I think you're messed up, honey. There's no denying that. You have so many issues that I can't even begin to comprehend them. But I can't think that badly of you, honey, otherwise I wouldn't be here." He took one hand from his coffee cup and placed on top of hers. She let go of her mug and gripped his hand.

"Gris?"

"Yes?"

"You know there's the Elektra complex, and Oedipus, and Laius and Jocasta?"

Grissom's stomach did a highly unpleasant somersault. "Ye-es?"

"What do they call it between siblings?" She was working her way up slowly, trying ever so hard not to break her composure.

"Plain incest, I should think," Grissom replied, feeling a wave of acid nearly burn a hole through his intestines. "Why?"

"I'm trying to think of a way to tell you what happened without having to say 'my brother and his friends used to abuse me as a kid.' But it looks like I've already done that," she added, her eyes clamping shut to stem the flow of tears.

"God, Sara, I ….".

"W….What? You're sorry? You don't know what to say?" Her lips thinned out completely, wet tracks tracing her cheeks.

"No, I don't know what to say. When it happens to a victim, or a suspect, I can say 'it's okay, it's just evidence.' But it doesn't even come anywhere near to hitting home when you find out it's happened to a person you love ….". He trailed off, suddenly aware of what had slipped out.

Sara stopped dead in her tracks. "Did you just say what I think you said?" she asked, the words reminding her of so many years before. "Look, I don't mind, as long as we never bring it up ….".

Grissom leaned forward and placed a finger over her lips. "Slow down," he intoned. "Yes, I meant it. I love you like I've never loved anyone before, and so I want you to explain exactly to me what you mean by 'abuse.'" His hand tightened around hers, reassuring her that he was there.

"When he was about twelve, just around the time of the final incident between my parents. My dad had broken two of my brother's ribs, 'cause I'd found the weed in his room. For God's sake, I just thought it was dirt. I didn't know." She caught Grissom's eye, and dragged herself back on track. "So my brother, as a form of retribution, brought two of his friends over one night, when my parents were out."

Grissom's hold on her hand tightened, just as much for his own benefit as to comfort her. "What happened?" His voice was barely above a whisper.