The fourth installment of this 'classic to be' is now complete. Okay, so I'm being delusional. Not so much a classic, but if I can't pretend that I own CSI anymore, I have to do something to fill my time. And the funny people with the white coats won't be back for hours, so I've got lots of time to fill ;)

-----------------------------------

The next few minutes seemed to just be a blur to Mr. Grissom. He was worried sick about his student. Not just for her physical safety, but for her mental stability as well. Things can't be fine in that little head of hers if she'd choose to return to a situation like this.

Then again, maybe it was just another part of life for her. She might not know of anything else. He wondered just how long this saga had gone on in her life. It's not like she ever talked about her parents to him, or anyone else for that matter that he heard.

He didn't think much about it, after all, this was the age children became independent and opened a new chapter onto their lives. The time where parents eased up on their children and let them fly farther from the nest. It was the time where the big decisions would finally be made by the young ones themselves.

He could imagine her wanting to hide all this from the rest of the world. She was probably afraid and ashamed, not wanting to be the subject of the pointed fingers and whispered rumors. Why would she want to jeopardize the few happy hours she had each day out of this home? Certainly not to think about, or even speak about the troubles she faced.

It was just one of the ways she could take control over the situation. It made her stronger. Her father may have had control over her life at home, but he couldn't control what she thought about or spoke about while she was away.

Granted, the thoughts would have more than likely been there, anyway, Mr. Grissom figured. Perhaps they'd just be pushed back farther into that vast mind of hers. He figured that the time she spent at school might have been a mere distraction to her. Like a way to fight for what she ultimately wanted. It was a slow and methodical fight that by the end of each day she succeeded in becoming that much closer to achieving.

If she could only stick through this battle of wills, she'd be free. Free to get the job she loved with all her heart, and get away from the man she did not. A dream like this could easily prove enough to strengthen a person's will to survive. Maybe survive wasn't quite the right word. More like cope.

Mr. Grissom's mind came crashing back to reality when he saw her father make a run for it out the door. He protested, and tried to stop the man, but it was no use. He'd jumped into his car, and sped off into the distance.

Seconds later, Grissom ran into the house, just in time to see the cop kick in a door. Behind it lay Sara, her body still bound with duct tape. She'd managed to get herself over to one wall, and was kicking out with her feet. That had been the banging they'd heard.

Ignoring the urge to run over to Sara, and hold her in his arms, he calmed her down with a few carefully placed words. "Sara, everything is fine. You're father is gone, and you are safe. I need you to stay here until I can get my kit and collect the evidence properly. If you let me do this, I'll explain to you step by step as I go how and why I'm doing each task. Okay?"

The woman on the floor nodded and Mr. Grissom left the room to get his kit, while the cop secured the scene. When the professor came back, he did exactly as promised. He described the tools he used as he took the photographs, cut the tape, and slowly, piece by piece documented the scene.

He explained the task of bagging and labeling the evidence properly so they could be used in court if needed. Though visibly upset, his student remained as calm as can be expected and absorbed the information he was feeding her.

Though a daunting task, Mr. Grissom managed to remain calm as well on the exterior. Inside, his pulse was racing and his heart was pounding for the young woman by his feet. He wasn't positive, but thought that she might actually be handling this situation better than he, though she was the one in danger – the one who'd been hurt the most.

He did realize that if his cool exterior was just a front to the raging emotions he withheld on the inside, hers could just as easily be as well. Not that it mattered at this point, he had a job to do. Actually, a couple jobs. One, to catalogue the contents of the crime scene, and two, tend to the victim.

Later there'd be a lot of sort through… ranging from the physical evidence straight through to the mental emotions. He could already see this case would have a long lasting impression on everyone involved. But if the cases weren't to make an impression to him, he'd be first to pack it in for a new job. The victims all deserved better than that. Much, much better.

-------------------------------------

Okay, so I'm writing this, and I can't even post it just yet. Mind you, once you read this, it means I've obviously posted it, but that is besides the point. Tonight, I'm without an internet connection, but still had a few things to get out of my mind, so now that I have, I can sleep… See you next time on the- Oh sorry, it's not that kind of 'same place, same time' deal is it? Oops.