Chapter 8
Grissom walked into the layout room with Catherine close behind. Warrick and Greg were pouring over the boxes of evidence and notes. He sat down next to them, and waited for Catherine to close the door and join them around the table.
All movement stopped as the two younger CSIs looked up expectantly. In truth they were just spinning their wheels; they had been given very little new information, and neither was sure if they wanted the information Catherine and Grissom had.
"How's Sara?" Warrick broke the silence.
"Nick took her home and is staying with her," Catherine started. "The doctor said she's going to need help for a few days."
Warrick and Greg exchanged glances, but neither one wanting to violate Sara's privacy by asking the extent of her injuries. "What do you need us to do?" Warrick finally asked.
Grissom looked at them, "Kelly James is not talking, so the evidence needs to talk."
Warrick's eyes narrowed, "But we have Sara's statement and his DNA right?"
The older CSI nodded, "I want an air tight case. We're going to go through every document, every piece of evidence, and nail him to the wall with it." His voice was low and serious.
Catherine held up Sara's case file, "The photos are going to remain confidential, but my notes, Sara's statement, and the results from the DNA, gloves, and assault kit are in here. Everything you see and read stays within the team."
Grissom shifted slightly, allowing them to see Sara's file didn't sit well with him, but he knew he had to separate his personal feelings if he really wanted to help Sara. "We also need someone to interview Tucker James. He's been admitted to the hospital for surgical reconstruction of the hand. He also sustained a severe concussion, head laceration, several broken ribs, and a fractured jaw."
Greg whistled, "Sounds like someone was trying to send him a message."
"Or get information out of him," Warrick speculated. "I'll go down and talk to him."
"What about the chalk, did we get a sample to run for comparison?" Catherine asked looking through the Croft file.
"There was nothing significant in the sample taken from the vic," Greg explained. "It just led us to the gym…" The younger man trailed off, realizing if they hadn't gone there, or if he had on insisted on her going home, she would never had been assaulted.
Grissom nodded, but said nothing further, unaware he wasn't the only one blaming themselves. Watching everyone pulling out files, he was satisfied that the case was going in the right direction; he grabbed a box for himself and started sorting through the paperwork.
--/--
Nick couldn't sleep. He wanted to hear even the slightest signs of distress from his friend. He watched as she twitched and fought her demons in her sleep. Struggling with wanting to wake her, and wondering if her reality was going to be harder to deal with then her dream, he settled on hugging her tightly against her chest; hoping she would sense his presence. Her arm twitched, drawing attention once again to the bandage wrapped around her wrist; he was still in the dark regarding her injuries, but from the information he did know, he wasn't sure he wanted the full account.
"No," her voice was quiet, but filled with fear.
Nick couldn't take her reliving the event in her dreams, and decided to wake her, "Sara."
"No, dad," her words spilled out more urgently.
He felt sick; he understood the pain born from someone violating a sacred trust. Many of her closest colleagues had assumed Sara had been abused in some way, but she was very private when it came to her past. Nick wasn't even sure Grissom knew the secrets she harbored. Understanding that moments from her past were resurfacing, he was not going to watch her battle those demons after everything she just endured, "Sara, come on, wake up," he pleaded, shaking her gently.
"Mom, help…please no." Sara tensed suddenly, holding her breath.
Nick shot up, and moved quickly around the bed, kneeling in front of her. Her eyes were open, but weren't focused. He placed a comforting hand on the top of her head, the other resting on her hip, "Sara look at me, you're safe."
Blinking, she pulled away from his touch, "Nick?" Confusion was quickly replaced with pain as reality hit her. Trying to sit up, she winced as her muscles protested.
Nick stood, "Cath said she left your painkillers on the counter. I'll go get you some water."
Watching his retreating form, she closed her eyes. She had been fairly successful keeping her past memories as bay for years, but she feared that there would be no stopping the fallout. She wanted to forget, she wanted to not feel anything.
Reentering the bedroom, pills and water in hand, Nick set them down on her night stand. He gently pulled her upright, propping pillows around her, and sat down next to her. Picking up the pills and glass, he handed them to Sara.
Accepting them gratefully, she swallowed them, and leaned her head back against her headboard.
"Do you need anything?" Nick was at a loss; Sara was hard enough to figure out on a daily basis. He had had plenty of experience with victims, but never past the statement.
Sara chuckled slightly, "Yeah, how about a drink."
He smiled at her, not amused, but filled with concern, "Sure, how about some H2O?" he asked lifting the glass.
Grabbing his hand, she knew he would keep her from doing something stupid. Although getting drunk would accomplish her desire to forget, but the result would be temporary. "On the rocks?" she finally asked.
"You bet," he told her lightly. Watching her try to find a comfortable position, his jaw clenched, "Sara, do you want to talk…"
"Not particularly," she started, but watched her friend's face fall. "I trust you Nick, I just want to forget."
He understood that feeling more than she could know, "Sara, you can't just forget this happened. You're going to need to deal with it, or it'll—"
Taking her hand back suddenly, "Nick this is my life."
He hadn't expected her to respond so badly, standing he turned away from her.
Letting out a shaky breath, "Nick, just let me deal with this."
"Are you?" he finally asked turning to face her.
She watched him, he looked at her with pain and sympathy, "Am I what?"
"Dealing with it?"
"Nick what do you want from me? It's been twelve hours." Tears started to trail down her cheeks.
He sat down next to her, "I don't want this to change you. I know what happens when you hold things like this in."
Sara studied him. Everything she had heard of his family life, he had the ideal childhood. His dad a successful lawyer, and eventual a well respected judge, while his mother stayed at home, the perfect wife and mother. Several times, she found herself jealous of his life, but the tremor in his voice caused her to reconsider her assessment.
Feeling slightly exposed under her scrutiny, Nick stood, "I'm sorry. You want to watch a movie, or try to eat something?"
"Who was it?" she asked; her voice carried concern, and a new level of understanding.
Finally looking her in the eyes, his face softened, "A babysitter. I never told anyone, and it changed me Sara. I tried to forget, but I never could. This isn't going away."
Nodding her head, "I know; can we just not deal with it now?" Waiting a moment, she wanted to make sure they were ok, "A movie huh?"
He smiled, "Yeah, but I get to pick it?"
"Wow, that doesn't seem fair," she tried to keep her voice light.
Walking over to her, he helped her stand, "Fair? I've seen your movie selection. I've never seen so many chick flicks."
--/--
Grissom sat in his office, Sara's file on his desk. All he could do was stare at the brown folder. Warrick had left for the hospital, and Greg and Catherine were meeting with the prosecutor; leaving him alone with his thoughts.
"You don't care." Her words haunted him. He had no idea where the explosion had come from until she continued her outburst. "Somebody young and beautiful shows up. Somebody we could care about." He remembered his words, they were never meant for her ears. Seeing Debbie Marlin, dead in a pool of her blood, had shaken him, but he never once considered what the fallout from the case had done to Sara.
Doing everything he could short of sending her home, he had kept her at an arms length. At the time, he told himself he was protecting her; however looking back he realized he had been a coward.
"You can care about a woman that looks just like me because she's a case." She was so wrong. It was her he cared about, and each time he had looked at Debbie, he saw Sara.
Opening the folder, he glanced over the data. He couldn't protect her.
Standing, he grabbed his keys, and headed for his car.
--/--
Nick watched the movie, arm comfortably draped around Sara, her head resting on his chest. The remote was out of reach, so he found himself forced to watch the end of You've Got Mail. He had teased her while picking out the movie that he would have never guessed that she would own half the movies in her collection. 'Isn't real life enough twisted enough for you?' her words grounded him again. Piece by piece she was starting to make sense to him. Her whole life away from work was carefully designed to try to get away from work… and something. 'I just want to forget.' That he could understand.
His own life had been spent trying to forget being raped at nine. Glancing at her front door, his mind began to recall every detail of his bedroom door. He had stared at it for so long, waiting for his mother, but when she had opened the door, he pretended he was asleep.
A soft timid knock brought Nick back to reality. Gently disentangling himself from Sara, he successfully laid her down, pulled her feet up, and covered her with a blanket, all without waking her. It had to be the drugs that had knocked her out.
Looking through the peephole, he couldn't decide if he was surprised or not. Quickly opening the door, he gave Grissom room to step in, "She's asleep," he whispered nodding his head in her direction.
Moving to the kitchen, Nick followed, "How is she?" Grissom's voice was laced with concern.
Nick shrugged, "She's Sara."
The older man offered a knowing sigh, "Go home, take a shower, and get some sleep."
Feeling overprotective of Sara, Nick questioned the decision to leave her while she was still asleep, and with Grissom. "I don't know how well she'll react to waking and finding me gone." He phrased his words carefully.
"You mean how she'll react to me being here?" Grissom supplied the words Nick was too afraid to say. "I'm here to help her Nick, and I need you on top of your game."
"Why? Has something happened?" The younger CSI asked, immediately concerned that Kelly James was about to get away again.
"No, they've just pushed through the pretrial process given the impact James had on the Vegas community, and that he attacked a member of the law enforcement task force assigned to arresting the serial murderer." Grissom explained. It was all coming together very quickly, "We're all going to need to testify in the next few days, so we all need to be well aquatinted with the evidence."
Reluctantly, Nick conceded. In truth, he knew Grissom cared deeply for Sara, and he was possibly the only one she would open up to. Gathering his things, he quietly leaned over and kissed Sara's forehead.
Grissom watched the interaction. He knew he had made the right decision sending Sara home with Nick, now he hoped she would be comfortable in his presence. Standing in the doorway, the younger man looked back at his supervisor, "She wants to forget."
Processing the information, he nodded his understanding.
Fingering the door, Nick studied the wood, "We can't let her do that." Turning before his emotions betrayed him; he closed the door, and heard it lock behind him.
TBC
