Title: Stalked - Chapter 6

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Authors' Note: Sol, seriously you rock. Sorry for the mess this was when I sent it to you! As for the rest of you - I LOVE YOU! You and all your reviews. Thanks! Now leave me somemore. I am a greedy greedy review monster. And I'm hungry. :o)

The dull ache throbbing through her head woke Sara abruptly. She grimaced slightly at the thought of opening her eyes, but when a wet cloth touched her forehead, they opened quickly of their own accord. A bright light assaulted her senses and she blinked rapidly to bring the room into focus.

She was down in the basement again, lying on her side on the old dingy mattress. Nity was kneeling beside her with a concerned look on his face. "Good morning beautiful." His tone was soft and almost apologetic. "You had me worried."

Sara tried to sit up and pain rocketed through her ribs. Taking a deep, hissing breath through her teeth, she tried again. She sat up and met the eyes of her captor. "Leave me alone. Now."

He attempted to touch the cloth to her face again and she pulled back despite the loud protests of her ribs. "Sara… we have to clean these up."

Anger ran through her body and she shook her head at him. "No. I have to clean these up. You need to leave me alone."

"You're mad."

Sara started laughing. This man…he was so. God. She heard the maniacal sound in her laughter and for some reason it just made her laugh harder. Her lungs were screaming for air and her ribs felt like they were going to crack, but she couldn't stop. She had reached her breaking point. She had been acting like a victim; something she had promised herself she'd never do, and everyone probably thought she was dead. What better point to have a break down?

Nity was looking at her with an expression of deep concern on his face. "Sara? Are you ok?"

"No! That's the whole point. I'm NOT ok. And my not being ok is your fault. YOURS." She took a deep breath and tried without success to hold back the giggles that she couldn't explain. "I don't want to be here anymore! This is not my home, this is not my life, and I don't love you!"

Nity took a step back, shocked at her words. Surprising was the lack of anger Sara saw in his eyes. Instead he almost looked…sad. "But…Sara…but I love you."

Stifling her laughter and setting her forehead in her hands she realized that almost getting beaten to death changed a person. It had given her back the courage to fight, the strength to survive. She was better then her actions. She looked back at him. "No Nity. You don't." She stopped laughing and a small sigh escaped her lips. She was trying to reason with a psychopath.

"You can't tell me what I feel."

"Then you can't hurt me for what I don't." She met his eyes again and this time his gaze fluttered away from hers. He was ashamed.

"I…you…I…" He stammered. Turning on his heel, he walked quickly to the stairs. Without another word he took them two at a time and shut the door quietly behind him.

Sara heard the locks snap into place and laid herself back against the mattress. She sighed. Apparently all it took to remember how strong she had been was getting beat into unconsciousness. She wasn't going to forget again. Moping around and acting how he wanted her to act might keep her from getting hit, but it wasn't going to get her free.

She was strong. There were so many things in her life that she'd conquered. So many obstacles she'd gotten over. This was just one more.

She lifted her head and caught her fingers under the edge of her shirt, sliding a look towards the camera. Deciding that he was probably watching, she sat up and turned away, the chain around her ankle clattering loudly. As she lifted her shirt to display her abdomen she grimaced again.

A dark purple bruise covered her side. Using her fingers, she pressed down on it gently. A slow hiss escaped her lips as pain shot through the area like lightening. She wouldn't be surprised if she had a few broken ribs. "Damn you." She pulled the shirt down again and stood up slowly.

Turning to face the camera again she ran her fingers delicately over her face. Blood had dried in the corner of her mouth and along her hairline. She could feel at least four different lacerations. She sat down in the chair and picked up the bowl by the bed. She reached into the piss-warm water and grabbed the raggedy cloth. After wringing it out, she touched it to her face gingerly trying to erase both the fact that she'd let herself get beaten, and any evidence of it.

As she wiped down her face, she got used to the stinging pain and her swipes became less hesitant. Eventually she was pulling the rag across her wounds angrily. "Never again. You will not hurt me again."

When her face finally felt clean and the stinging had successfully cleared the dull ache from her head, she stood. She just didn't want to take this anymore. She walked over to the nearest window; still darkened by the layers of paint Nity had covered them with. She felt the bite in her ankle as she stretched her body to get as close to it as she could.

Looking around she spotted a nail protruding from the wall. She wanted to see outside. She needed to know that life was still going on. Grabbing the nail with the tips of her two middle fingers, she pulled with all she had. Her fingers slid off the nail, and a sharp pain quickly attacked her nerve endings as the head slipped roughly through her fingertips.

Ignoring it, she bit her lip and tried again. This time, the old wood gave it up and the small nail clattered to the ground. Smiling at a small triumph, she ignored the ache in her side as she bent over and picked it up.

Stretching her arm out to the window, she stepped her free foot as close as she could and with the tip of the nail scratched at the paint. Much to her delight, the paint came off easily and within a minute she had an area as big as the palm of her hand, from which she could see the outside. The night sky; dark with clouds covering even the brightest star, greeted her, but she was sure she had never seen a more beautiful sight.

She was ashamed of herself for not doing this days ago; at how weak she had been. That was not who she was. She was Sara Sidle. She was strong, and she was capable. With every breath she took, every pain she felt, she regained more of that strength. She was a survivor.

Nity stood in the center of his living room thinking. He had tried sitting, but he easily became restless. He had tried walking, but he always wound up back at the basement door. He couldn't believe what she'd said. He was mad. But more than mad, he was hurt. After all he'd done, after all he'd given up, she still didn't love him? But this was fate. This wasn't how things were supposed to work.

He rubbed his hands over his face and felt himself crumbling. The one woman he ever loved. The one woman he thought would love him back… and she didn't. Perhaps he should have taken into account how much she loved this other man. When you love someone that much, maybe you just don't have room for anyone else anymore.

He wanted her to love him. That's all he wanted. He didn't want to hit her, to bruise her. He wanted to make her laugh; he wanted to be the one that she dreamt about. But he wasn't. Even when it was obvious she was having nightmares, it was this other man she called out for. Grissom. It was this man whose name she uttered in her sleep.

Pulling an untraceable prepaid cell phone from his back pocket, he dialed a number that he knew she knew by heart. The man answered after only two rings. "Grissom."

"She wants me to tell you she's still alive. For now." The man tried to say something but Nity hung up the phone and started back towards the basement.

Sara was sitting on the bed, facing toward the window when she heard the locks on the door snap back open. As quickly as her aching body would allow she got to her feet, quickly pocketed the nail and walked around to the other side of the mattress, settling herself quietly into the chair.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Sara noticed he had a strange look on his face, as though he was deep in thought. She didn't say anything, instead just rocked the chair in a squeaky rhythm, waiting for him to speak. She took notice of the phone in his hand and raised her eyebrows subconsciously.

"Why do you love him?" He raised the hand holding the phone toward her in a gesture that made her think whomever he was talking about was on the other end.

Those were not the words she'd expected to hear. "Love who?"

"Grissom. What makes him so worthy of your love?" Nity was staring at her now, his demeanor like that of an unsure child.

"I don't…I don't love him." She tilted her head to the side, obvious questions dancing through her eyes.

"Yes. You do. You can't deny it, I know you Sara. I know your dreams when you sleep, and I know your fantasies when you're awake. Haven't you caught on by now? I know everything about you." He slipped his hands, and the phone, into the front pockets of his jeans.

Sara swallowed fast. Attempting to reign in the emotions that were suddenly coursing through her was harder than she could imagine. "Am I that obvious?" She could never remember a time when she'd ever spoken her feelings, those feelings, out loud.

Nity shuffled his feet. "No. But when you take notice, I take notice." He looked at her and met her eyes. "And now I know why you can't love me. Because you already love him. But what I don't understand is why. He doesn't love you… he never has. Why do you…" Nity let the words trail off.

This wasn't a conversation she'd ever thought she'd be having with this man. It was just downright weird. "Umm. He's my friend you know? I trust him."

Nity nodded. "And trust is a big thing with you. You don't trust a lot of people." He almost looked pathetic.

It felt like a dam had been released on her emotions, and Sara found herself spilling over to the most unlikely person. "I do love him. He knows me, and he accepts me anyway. Faults and all."

Nity turned around again and headed back for the stairs. "Love is difficult. And it's hard to let go of. Even when the other person will never love you back." His voice was soft and for a second, Sara almost felt pity for this man. He had given a large portion of his life to her. True as it was that he had stalked her, taken her captive, and hurt her… and as completely crazy as Sara knew he was, she also knew what it was like to love someone and not have that feeling returned.

She almost said something but thankfully her mind regained some control over itself and she stopped. The last thing she needed to do was to make him start thinking that he had a chance again.

She didn't know why the hell she'd opened up even as much as she had. He'd asked. And that is probably the only reason. For the last two weeks, her only real thoughts had been of Grissom. Of how much time she'd been wasting, never just coming out and saying, "I love you."

She wasn't sure she'd ever get the chance to say it, or how he would react if she did. But if this had taught her one thing, it was that sometimes the repercussions of speaking your mind were worth it. She just hoped she got the chance.

It was hard for her to believe that she'd actually come to a sort of agreement with her captor. It was hard to think of him as a man whose feelings she'd hurt. She didn't want to think of him like that. She wanted to be able to hate him. To fight him. She wanted to know that if she had to, she could kill him to save herself.

After the sun came up, Nity started moving quietly around the house. He'd been thinking all night, and he wasn't sure he was exactly happy with the conclusion he'd come to.

Now he stood at the top of the stairs, on the other side of the closed door. He leaned against it and sighed. He couldn't let her go. He didn't want to let her go. But at the same time, he didn't want to make her stay if she didn't want to stay. For probably the first time in his life, he felt real guilt. And he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He walked away from the basement and toward the front door. He was in a bind. He couldn't let her go, he loved her, and he didn't want to go to prison. He couldn't keep her, he knew now that she'd never be happy with him. That only left him with one option. He had to kill her.

Just the thought brought tears to his eyes and he swiped them away angrily. This wasn't fair! Why couldn't she just be happy with him? Why wasn't he good enough? He didn't want to kill her. He just wanted to be with her. He kicked a foot into the door and punched a fist into the wall. This wasn't supposed to be happening like this.

He reached out and opened the door, stepping back as he came face to face with a man about his age. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Nitlinan Bergsten."

"Can I ask what for?" Anger tinged his voice and Nity fought hard to control it.

"We would just like to ask him a few questions."

"He's not here. Can I have him call you when he gets home?" Nity lied, and fought hard against the panic growing in his chest.

"That would be good. Thanks." The man handed him a card, turned around, and stepped down off the porch, before climbing into his car and pulling away from the curb. Nity followed him with suspicious eyes before he flipped the card over and read the front.

Andrew Kensington – Department of Motor Vehicles

Nity chuckled with relief and crumpled the card in his fist. Just another surveyor.

He pulled the door shut behind him as he left the house, turning around just long enough to lock three heavy deadbolts behind him. There was work to do. He had to do something about Sara.

Walking slowly, he entered his garage and got into his car. Using the electric door opener he quietly rolled the door up. As he started the engine, he thought about what he had to do today. He had to figure out a way to kill her without causing her unnecessary pain. Then he needed a place to dump the body…he wanted her found, not lost forever. She deserved to rest in peace. But before he did any of that, he needed to plan his escape route.

Sara paced around the small area she had been living in with a frown plastered on her face. She didn't know if she should be worried by this change in his attitude, or happy. There was always the slim chance that he'd let her go… but the cop in her knew that, now that he knew she didn't want him, he would dispose of her. Her frown grew at the thought. It was moments like these that she wished she'd learned to keep her mouth shut.

She walked around that spot for what felt like hours. Occasionally sitting, or even lying down, but that night, sleep refused to come. Sometime after daybreak she heard the front door slam. She sighed and forced herself to relax onto the mattress.

Thoughts of her friends filled her head. She wondered if they even missed her. She missed them. Did they worry about her? Had they yet assumed she was dead and moved on with their lives?

She didn't want to admit to herself the hope she still felt. That they'd find something; that they were still looking. That she'd be awakened in the night by the sounds of her rescuers. But those sounds never came. If a sound did awaken her, it was only Nity, coming down the stairs to stand over her and watch her dreams.

She was emotionally exhausted and physically drained, but she just couldn't shut off her mind. Nity was right about one thing. It was her greatest asset. Even as a child she had been able to outthink others and solve her way out of most problems. She'd been able to rationalize things, prioritize things, and wrap things up in nice neat little packages in the back of her mind. She always figured that if she kept things bundled where they belonged…nothing would cross over to anything else. She'd be able to keep work way from home and her past away from the present. And it usually worked.

But this time, she'd spent the last two weeks completely unable to wrap this one up. It had managed to spill itself over into every single area of her life. And try as she might, she couldn't get it all together to be able to look at it objectively. She couldn't help but think that Grissom would be disappointed in her. That he'd be shocked that she'd given in – given up, so easily.

And now that she wanted that strength back, things were such a mess in her own head that it was overwhelming. There was no easy way out of this. There was no magic key hidden in the wall, no neighbor to see her through the fist size viewer in the window, there was just her. She'd always been enough. She alone had conquered life so far. It had always just been her against the world. She used to think she liked it that way. Now she'd give anything for a friend to carry some of this burden with.

She smiled softly as she thought about her coworkers… her friends? Even after six years, the thought that maybe she had an entire group of people that she could count on… well, it was strange. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that somehow, over the course of many investigations, many many days working side by side with these people, she did consider them friends. And she thought that maybe they considered her a friend too.

Take Nicky for example. He liked to kid her about not sleeping, but behind those jokes, his tone was always just serious enough to let her know that he was really worried about her. She could imagine him now, getting mad at the blank walls, pacing around the lab, pretending not to be too worried, but not really being able to help himself. Nick was a good guy. And she knew he, at least, missed her.

Greg was always the one to make her smile. Even on days that she thought she couldn't. There was something about the way he could grin and laugh at almost any situation that had helped Sara feel optimistic about a lot of things. He was carefree without being irresponsible. Something Sara herself had never managed to do, until recently. Until Greg started to rub off on her. It also didn't hurt her ego that he had a crush on her. He was a charming man, and even though she couldn't reciprocate those feelings, she was honored all the same.

Warrick, her relationship with him had started out on the wrong foot, a gap put between them before they even met. But it had changed in the last few years. Before it had seemed that he'd never forgotten that she'd come here to investigate him. He'd held it over her head, until one day… it just seemed that something changed. Whether it had been him, or her perception of him, she might never know. But somehow, she'd started seeing him in a whole new light. He wasn't a man with a gambling problem anymore. He was a man with a past. Just as she was a girl with a past. And though it is your past that shapes you, it isn't all you are. They'd grown closer once she'd let him free of his past, and he'd realized she was just doing her job when she was called here. Things were getting better between them, and she hoped she got a chance to continue that friendship.

Catherine. There had always been a butting of heads between them. After all, criminalistics was still a man's sport, and being the two leading women, subconsciously they both had thought they had something to prove. It had taken a while for both to realize that they had each worked equally hard to get to where they were. They were both good at what they did, and they both were strong women. Put that together with the obvious clashing of opinions that is bound to happen in ANY job, and you have their complicated relationship. She trusted Catherine with her life. And she knew that if it came to it, that Catherine would always have her back, just as she would have Catherine's. Because that's what friends do. And for all their disagreements, that's what they were. Friends.

Sara rolled over and turned her head just right so she was rewarded with the sight of the sky, which had faded from morning bright to a pale afternoon blue. She sighed at the sight. It had immediately reminded her of the shade of Grissom's eyes. Grissom. She'd been avoiding thinking about him since her conversation with Nity. By confessing those feelings, even to that man, she'd willingly unwrapped that bundle. And every single time it was opened, it left her heart feeling vulnerable.

Unable to hold back the flood of thoughts anymore, she let her mind wander as the sky changed from that brilliant blue to the radiant pink and oranges. She thought about why she was in Vegas, and it was as simple as - he'd asked her to come. She hadn't even thought about it before she'd accepted. She had just wanted to be near him again.

She thought about the game they played, back and forth like a damn volleyball. But she was the only one who ever seemed to get hurt. Sometimes, she dreamt of those rare times when he'd looked at her, not like his subordinate, but like a friend. Like someone who cared. And it was always after those moments that she felt most vulnerable. Because no matter what Nity said to the contrary, she knew what she saw reflected back in his eyes. She saw the same hurt she felt; the same desires she had, the same fears. And she knew. He did feel the same for her as she did for him. And she knew that that knowledge scared him. It made him feel vulnerable too.

She imagined him now, or better, she imagined herself in his shoes. If it were her sitting at the lab, with nothing to go on, looking for him? She'd be a mess. And when the idea of him being permanently gone started niggling in the back of her mind? She'd try to shut it up, she'd fight it every step of the way until people around her started worrying. And when it finally was allowed to sink in that he might not being coming back, when she was forced to face it? She'd probably lose it. But somewhere in the deepest part of her heart, she knew she'd never stop looking. And she prayed he wouldn't either.

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