Chapter 11
Sara sat on her couch, keys in hand, looking at the door. She had successfully hid from everyone and everything for a week and a half, but she knew she couldn't remain locked in her apartment forever. The phone calls were continuous, but she was able to kick the concerned protectors out of her apartment.
Her time alone allowed her to face her past, and come to terms with her rape. At least that's what she told herself. All she wanted was for her life to return to normal, and that meant she needed to get off the couch and return to work.
She had yet to find out what was going on with Kelly James, and she also needed to talk to Tucker while she was at the whole 'getting on with her life'. "That means you have to get up Sidle," she told herself, took a deep breath and finally stood. Reaching the door, her shaky hand grasped the door knob. One more deep breath and she stepped out, locked the door, and refused to look back.
---/---
Grissom glanced through his message slips as he walked down the hall to his office. Sitting at his desk he looked over to the empty chair in front of him. Every time he looked at the seat he remembered how utterly exposed Sara looked after Kelly James had attacked her. He had never seen her let the tears fall so freely down her face. She would get worked up, but she always fought back the tears that formed in her eyes, but when he had caught her off guard, in the safety of his office, he would always remember how fragile she looked.
He would also always remember what it felt like to hold her, to comfort her, the way he always wanted to.
"Hey," her voice was quiet.
Grissom thought he imagined it, until he looked up and saw the source of his thoughts leaning against his doorway. Standing, he wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't expected to see her, but bit back his questions and settled for, "Hi."
It was lame and they both knew it, but Sara offered him a small smile, "Can I?" she asked nodding toward the chair he had just been contemplating.
"Please," was his only answer, as he gestured for her to sit. Only once she was settled did he return to his seat.
"I needed to find some sort of sanity before facing everyone," she explained.
Casting her an understanding smile, "I don't think anyone was expecting you back so soon."
Nodding, "Well, I could only watch You've Got Mail and Two Weeks Notice so many times before you need some sort of mental stimulation." She joked, but soon realized he wasn't laughing. "I need to get back to work. I can't dwell on what happened, and I need to start feeling normal again."
"Well, normal for you is seventy-two hours in one week, and I don't recommend that," he approached the topic carefully. He knew she was strong, and he also knew personally how comforting a routine was. His main concerns were her getting counseling, and using work to hide from her experience.
"I'll take it slow. Seventy hours, and not a minute more," her attempt at humor was meant to tell him 'they' were ok without actually bringing up the subject.
Grissom was glad to see her dry sense of humor was unharmed, and smiled, "Go slowly, and let me know if anything happens that makes you feel uncomfortable."
"Ok," she paused, not sure if she wanted the answer to her next question, "What happened to him?"
"Sara, I can't discuss the case with you…" he wanted to answer her question, but reality stopped him. Seeing she was about to protest he pressed on, "The pretrial was air tight, and he's being held without bail until the trial."
Letting out the breath she was holding, she stood, "Thanks."
"Sara, we have enough evidence, you won't even need to testify. You don't have to think about him again." He hoped speaking the words out loud would make the statement true.
Turning away from him, her shoulders slumped slightly, "I wish I could forget."
Grissom was forced to watch her retreating form, and made a note to assign her to Catherine or Nick for the rest of the week.
---/---
Sara walked into the break room unnoticed by the occupants.
"Nice try Greggo, you can't be a CSI until you've experienced scat patrol." Nick was explaining.
Warrick chimed in with a laugh, "Yeah, that and no one else wants to do it."
Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Greg began to whine, "This isn't fair. Guess who gets to process the doggie poo when I get back? Moi."
"French Greg, I thought you were Norwegian," Sara piped up causing everyone to freeze.
"Sorry! Meg." He offered in his best Norwegian accent before turning to hug his colleague fiercely.
Laughing genuinely she realized how much she missed everyone, "Easy Greg, that just healed."
Letting her go instantly, the younger man backed away, and Nick filled his space. "How are you feeling Sar?" He whispered in her ear before pulling away.
"I'm fine. Good. Ready to work," she answered for the benefit of everyone else in the room.
Catherine had remained quiet, trying to assess the younger woman. She still had an overwhelming need to protect her, but also knew that Sara operated differently then most people she knew. All she could do was request that Grissom assign them together.
Grissom entered the break room with a grim expression on his face, causing the entire night shift to sit quietly at the table. He held a single piece of pink paper in his fist. "What is everyone working on?" His abruptness matched his furrowed brows.
Nick cleared his throat, "I'm finishing up the paperwork for the B&E last night."
"Greg and I have a box full of evidence to process from the DB found at the humane society." Warrick continued.
Nodding, the older man avoided looking at Sara, "Catherine?"
"Ballistics from the armed robbery. We recovered over thirty bullets." The blonde explained.
"Sara, help Catherine, I'm going to meet Brass," he explained and left before anyone could question his directions.
Greg let out a small whistle, "That is one strange man."
Sara bristled, suddenly feeling protective of their supervisor, "Don't you have a date with some doggy doodoo?"
Nick, Warrick, and Greg stood, and the mocking of the labrat drifted down the hall as they made their way into the lab.
Catherine and Sara remained seated in silence until Sara looked over at the woman she suddenly respected intensely, "Cath, thanks. I owe you."
Leaning over, the blonde's hand covered Sara's, "You don't owe me a thing. I was glad to be there for you, I'm just sorry it was under those circumstances."
Offering a grateful smile, Sara stood, "Thirty bullets huh? This'll be fun."
Following her, Catherine laughed, "You have a funny definition of fun."
---/---
Grissom spotted the lights as he drove silently down the residential street. Parking as close as he could, he moved to retrieve his kit from the back of the SUV, and searched the small crowd for Jim Brass.
"Hey Gris," the captain's voice drifted behind him.
Noting the heaviness of his tone, Gil turned slowly and met Jim's eyes, "Another rape?" he asked, not sure if he was able to handle what he was about to see. However, he knew he was more equipped at that moment then the rest of his team to process a rape case.
Nodding, he pointed to the paramedics who were loading up the battered woman.
Relieved and saddened that the young woman was still alive, he moved to the gurney. "I need to look her over quickly," he explained to the two men as they stepped back. Grissom winced as he examined the bloody feet, and began to take initial photographs. The young blonde appeared to be in shock. Her eyes were open, but unseeing, and she did not react to any of the activity around her.
Grissom could only think of Sara, hanging by her arms. He knew at the time she had been unusually strong for someone in her situation, but seeing the newest victim his heart began to pound wildly in his chest.
The paramedics gathered their equipment as they waited for the CSI to finish, "Victim's stable. We're transporting her to Desert Palms. Over."
Looking at the victim through the lens of the camera was the only thing that held him together. Grissom needed to find his focus quickly, and the only way he thought that was possible was to put Sara out of his mind.
Brass walked up to the gurney, "Nobody knows who she is. The Andersons, they called the Security Company." He explained nodding toward the younger couple speaking to another officer. "They thought somebody was trying to break in their back door. Southern Highlands is a new development. There's really not much around here. Some of my guys are talking to everybody, trying to find out what's going on."
Only half listening to the detective, Grissom began processing the evidence out loud, "She has severe lacerations on her feet. She was running hard from somewhere." The thought instantly made him feel sick. 'Sara didn't get an opportunity to run,' he thought to himself. Shaking the thought, he turned away, determined to trace the victim's steps.
Following the trail of blood, he tried to shake the level of pain he was feeling for the woman. Until that point, he had not been able to understand why Sara would get so involved in assault cases, but now, his memories of Sara's pain so fresh in his head, he couldn't help but feel for the victim.
The bread crumbs were leading him down a path that must have been pure terror for the blonde he had just photographed. The trees around him offered no comfort, and the isolation made him feel claustrophobic.
As he snapped a shot of the bloody footprints his mind flashed to the blood drops that had fallen on the white plastic beneath Sara as she hung from the ropes.
Pausing, he began scanning the terrain, looking for evidence as much as he was trying to remind himself where he was. His gazed fell on the soft light emanating from the open door of a car, and he knew he had traced the evidence back to the original crime scene.
Assessing the vehicle he spotted the keys still in the ignition, and an open wallet. The driver's license visible, he was finally able to put a name to the bruised face, Linley Parker. Not a practice he necessary recommended to CSI, but he was desperate to shake Sara's pained expression.
Straightening up, he glanced around, and realized he needed help. As much as he wanted to protect his team from the memories he himself was fighting with, the crime scene covered a large distance, and the victim deserved to get on with her life as quickly as possible.
His only task now, was how to notify the team without upsetting Sara.
---/---
The cell phone beside Sara chirped loudly, glancing at the caller id, she looked over her shoulder at her companion, "It's Grissom."
Looking up from her task, Catherine grimaced, "Can you answer it? I almost have the striations lined up."
Removing one glove, she flipped the phone open, "Sidle." Silence greeted her. "Grissom, are you there?"
"Can I talk to Catherine," he asked trying not to betray his emotions.
Sighing, she assumed he was being over protective, "She in the middle of something. What do you need?"
"I need Catherine to head to Desert Palms and take a victim statement," he explained, hoping to keep the request vague.
Sara stopped, and suddenly realized why he was acting so strangely, "A rape victim."
Catherine's head shot up, and she moved to take the phone away.
Sara stopped her as she held up her hand, "I'm going with."
"No you're not." Both CSI instructed her in stereo.
Looking at the woman in front of her, she tried to explain, "I need to be there for her. The exam is…it's almost as bad as the rape. Let me. I need to make sure I can still do my job." Her honest was raw and poignant.
"Fine. Can you find Nick and tell him I need him down here," he conceded.
"Thank you," she whispered.
'Don't make me regret this,' Grissom thought to himself, "Can I talk to Catherine?"
Handing the phone over, Sara left the room so the pair could talk about her in private.
TBC
