I do not own CSI; I am just filling a void for awhile. Trying to get to the end of this, sorry so long in between chapters. Work, school, family...floods...you know how it is.

Chapter 5: Inertia

(The typos at the end are intentional. They are meant to convey exactly how the words are being spoken)


"What is this I hear about you firing Dr. Gilbert Grissom?"

Conrad looked up to see Director Robert Covallo standing in the doorway to the evidence room, hands on hips. "You better have a damn good explanation, Conrad." He barked.

Glaring, Conrad slammed the door to the file container he'd been searching in. Appropriately, all of Sidle's evidence was missing, if there ever had been, and he could not find the surveillance video from the garage. Looking over at the director, he noticed the look on his face, but chose to ignore it. "Gil Grissom was out of line." He replied. "He attacked me in the hallway, he's been having a sexual relationship with a subordinate; who, by the way, has also been dismissed."

Covallo raised his eyebrows. "Those are some heavy allegations." He said reasonably. "Do you have any documentation to back this up or is your broken nose a result of Dr. Grissom's attack?"

Ecklie pursed his lips as he glared at the man. "No." He said. "I ran into a door, that is how I broke my nose. But Grissom physically attacked me in the hallway yesterday afternoon and I took appropriate action."

"You never filed a report."

Ecklie sighed heavily, his patience wavering. "No, I didn't." He snapped. "But I have over 10 cases that need to be solved and a lab staff that is reluctant to process without my constant goading. Those are my priorities."

"Your priorities," Covallo snapped. "Are doing your job correctly. Terminating our top supervisor without adequate cause and lack of documented historical behavior is not protocol, Conrad."

"Assaulting a superior is grounds for immediate termination." Conrad replied in an angry tone. "As anyone here and they will tell you what happened. I did nothing to provoke Grissom, Nick Stokes had to pull him off of me; I believe that is adequate cause."

"Alright." Covallo nodded as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I will speak to CSI Stokes and the others. But I have not seen any documentation stating that Dr. Grissom has been involved romantically or otherwise with any of his subordinates. You cannot terminate based on speculation, Conrad."

"I am NOT speculating!" He erupted. "Gil Grissom has been sexually involved with CSI Sidle for well over a year now, and that involvement has corrupted his ability to respond reasonably as a supervisor. Documented or not, it is against policy."

"I want to see the documentation." Covallo replied, beginning to turn away. "Involvement is not grounds for termination; disciplinary review perhaps, but not termination. I'll speak to the others about the attack. But if I do not find what I am looking for Conrad, I expect both Dr. Grissom's and CSI Sidle's positions reinstated by the end of the week."

"Are you implying that I am lying, Covallo?" Conrad seethed.

Turning to look at him, Covallo's look was one of extreme indignation. "Just get me the documentation, Conrad...and I expected by end of shift."


Gil pulled into the driveway shortly 2 in the afternoon and he found himself relieved that Sara's car was still parked near the curb in front of the townhouse. He had left while she was speaking with Catherine, having been called in to speak with Director Covallo about reinstating his position at the lab. The director had been apologetic; offering his support to both Gil and Sara should she agree to take her position back.

There would be an inquiry, the director had said, to determine exactly what had occurred but in the meantime, both he and Sara would begin their regular shifts the following evening. Gil did not tell him that he did not think Sara would be coming back; and he did not mention Ecklie's attack on her. The less that anyone knew, the less suspicion would be elicited when Conrad disappeared.

Gil had been, when he received the call from Covallo, researching various forensic methods that were the most difficult to trace to the origination of a homicide. He realized that perhaps he was soon to be guilty of pre-meditated murder, but he knew also that he was justified in his actions. Regardless, he did not plan on leaving any evidence behind to facilitate the discovery of Conrad Ecklie's body, or whatever might be left of it.

Entering the house, he found the silence ominously foreboding. Placing his keys on the front foyer table, he made his way into the front room just as Sara came down the stairs, keys and duffel bag in hand.

She stopped and looked at him, her eyes dropping to stare at a spot just in front of his shoes. "Where are you going?" He asked her as he took a step forward.

"To my apartment..."

"You need to stay here." He replied firmly, taking another step towards her. "With me..."

"Why?"

Her question surprised him and he opened his mouth to reply, unable to speak any words that sounded remotely logical. "So I can protect you." He stated almost forcefully. "Because I didn't protect you before..."

"You didn't want me." She said with quiet accusation as she lifted her eyes to bore them into him. "So don't tell me something that makes you feel better just because it sounds good."

"Honey..." He breathed, her words stinging him as though they were a sharp bladed knife.

"Don't call me that." Quietly, almost angrily. "Please don't ever call me that."

He sighed, lifting his head slowly to gaze at her as she stared back down to avoid eye contact.

"Okay." He sighed, knowing that she was angry and that she had every right to that anger. "Okay; I'm sorry..." He said with a nod.

"I want to go home." She said in the same accusatory tone.

"I think you should stay here, at least for awhile...until you are feeling better."

"I do feel better." Still, she refused to look at him, her focus sternly on floor. "And I do not want your sympathy and I do not want you to look at me and I do not want you to touch me. I want to go back to my apartment."

"It's not safe at your apartment..." he took another step towards her, reaching out for her hand.

She recoiled with an anger that startled him. "It wasn't safe at my apartment before!" She suddenly yelled. "And you never seemed to care then; so why the hell would you suddenly care now!?" She swung her arms up in a frustrated motion. "Oh, wait, I know!" She laughed with mock realization, her tone bitter and animistic. "Because I was raped by Conrad Ecklie and I let it happen! ME!" She glared at him, the tears in her eyes spilling over onto her cheeks. "I could have fought...I could have fought a lot harder than I did and now every time you look at me, every time you touch me...you will see Conrad. And do you know what is worse, Gilbert?" She asked with a tone of sorrow that broke his heart. "What is worse is that everytime you touch me, I will feel Conrad Ecklie...so you can tell me that you want to protect me, but the truth is you just want to pacify the image of your biggest adversary out of your mind and off of my skin...and God help me I have tried to scrub it off." She shook her head sadly. "And I know that I cannot live with that...I don't know how you expect me to believe that you can...especially when a month ago you didn't want me at all."

She went to the door and opened it, turning to look at him one final time. "I don't need you to suddenly be my Knight in Shining Armor." She told him sadly. "Because really, Gilbert, you are much too late for that."


He had stood motionless as she walked out, listening to the sound of the door slamming behind her, the muffled echo of her car door as she slammed it shut. All the while he had just stood, feeling the vacuum swallowing him whole. He had gone immediately to the phone, dialing Catherine's phone number.

"What did you do to Sara?" He barked into the phone.

"What?" Catherine mumbled in return. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, midnight to a graveyard CSI, and she had been sleeping.

"Sara" He spat. "What did you do to her?"

"Gil-" She replied. "Do you know what time it is?"

'What did you do to Sara, Catherine?"

She sighed and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. "I talked to her, Gil...isn't that what you asked me to do?"

"No, Catherine." He replied in a testy voice. "What did you say to her?"

"I think that is sort of private..."

"Like HELL it is!" He exploded. "I need to know exactly what happened with you and Sara!"

As she felt herself come more alert, Catherine also felt the anxiety in his voice. Gil Grissom never acted this way. "Gil, what happened?"

"I want him dead, Catherine." He replied in a tone that sent chills through her. "I know I shouldn't say that; hell, I know I'll probably pay for it. But, I want him dead for what he did to her."

"Okay, alright..." She said cautiously. "Tell me what happened, okay? Just tell me what's going on?"

"If I knew that" He replied. "I wouldn't be calling you right now."


Nick sped through the intersection, ignoring the angry honks of the other cars as they slammed their brakes to avoid hitting him. As far as he was concerned, they could all just go to hell.

After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled up in front of Sara's apartment building, skidding his truck to a stop as he threw the door open. She had called him just a few minutes before, her voice sounding slurred and incoherent. When he asked her what had happened, she had only laughed with drugged hysteria and told him that in a few minutes it wouldn't really matter any more.

Even without her saying it, he knew that Sara had tried to kill herself.

They had all been asking about her, knowing that something just was not right. She had not been at work in three days and did not answer her phone or her cell phone; all visits to her apartment had come up empty handed. They had asked Catherine, several times, what was going on. Her responses, when given, were guarded and vague even when Warrick had pointed out Ecklie's behavior, Gil's attack on Ecklie and the fact that Gil and his 'girlfriend' had been fired.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Sara was that girlfriend.

Running up the stairs, he pulled the key she had given him a few months before out of his pocket. She had gone on a weekend outing with a friend and had asked him to water her houseplants while she was gone; he was thankful now that he had forgotten to give her the key back.

"Sara?" He called out into the quiet apartment. "Hey, Sar?"

Closing the door behind him, he made his way through the semi-darkened room. "Sara, sweetheart, c'mon? Where are you?"

He made his way into the bedroom, stopping when he spotted her as she sat curled up in a ball in the far corner of the room. She wore a dark gray sweatshirt, the hood pulled up and around her head, her pajama clad legs pulled up to her chest.

"Hey..." he said softly as he came in to kneel in front of her. She had her hands on her knees, palms up, with her forehead rested firmly against them. "Sweetheart? Sara?" He reached out tentatively to grasp the fingers on one hand as they lay softly against the fabric of the hood of the sweatshirt. They were cold and clammy. "C'mon, darlin'...can you look at me?...Sara?"

She was quiet a moment and when she spoke, her words were heavily slurred and quiet, muffled by the fabric. "Leave me alone..." she mumbled. "I jus' wanna be alone..."

"No, Sara..." He whispered as he pulled gently on the fingers of her hand. "I need you to look at me, okay? C'mon and look at me..."

"Nooooo..." She responded without moving her head. "Nooooo...don't...don't lookit me...don't ever look at me..."

"Did you take something?" He asked her, shaking her hand slightly to try and get her to look up at him. She didn't respond and he could hear her quiet gasps as she pressed her head harder against her palms.

"I jus' want it all to go away." She said quietly, her voice becoming more distorted. "Why won't he just let it go away?"

"What do you want to go away?" He asked quietly, reaching out to lay a hand softly on the top of her hooded head.

"Me..." She replied simply. "I hate this...I hate feeling this...it wont wash off. I can't wash it off...I tried...I really tried..."

"Sara..." He began, feeling his anxiety increase as her voice become more heavily slurred.

"I doan'd like this..." She groaned. "Oh, Nickeeee...I doan like this..."

"Sara," He said, trying to push her head up from her knees. "Sara? What did you take? What did you take, Sara?"

Scrambling, he glanced around the room. It was just becoming dusk and the light filtering in through the window blinds cast a muted shadow across her bedroom. Spotting something on the bed, Nick clambered across it to grab the empty bottle as he reached out to turn on her bedside light. Oxycodone.

'Shit' He thought desperately as he scrambled back over to Sara. "Did you take this?" He demanded his fear increasing. "Sidle! Did you take this?" He reached out for her, grabbing her shoulders to shake her roughly. As he did, her hands dropped from her face and he stared at her, momentarily frozen by the bruising around her cheek. Frozen in position, he looked her over, reaching out to take the hood off of her head.

"Oh, my God..." He breathed. "What happened to you? Did someone do this to you?"

"Nooooo..." She begged as she tried weakly to push him away. "I didint want too... Please...doan'd Nicky...please..."

"You need to tell me what happened to you!" He demanded, starting to feel the anger seeping in with his panic. "What the hell happened?!" He shook her just a little, her sedated head flopping with the motion. "Come ON, Sara!"

"I jus' want it to go away..." She mumbled as her eyes began to close. "...I assked 'im not too...didint wan'im, too...I didint...I tried...please..." She began crying a quiet half-asleep sound as she began to fade out "...I tried...I doan'd wanna die Nicky...please...please doan'd let me die..."

He stood, lifting her light form with him as her head flopped against his chest. Rushing from her apartment, he ran down the stairs, struggling with the door to his pick up as he opened it to place her carefully inside. He needed to get her to the trauma center to get the medication out of her system, and he wasn't sure how long ago she had taken it.

Once he had her in he ran around to his side, jumping in to start the engine and put the truck in gear. He glanced over at Sara, as she lay slumped against the door, her eyes rolled back and partially closed.

"C'mon, Darlin'..." he begged as he reached out for her hand. "Stay with me, Sara...stay with me!"

Grabbing his phone, he hit Greg's speed dial. "Sanders." Greg greeted on the other end. "Today's special is hamburger on highway 101..."

"Greg!" He cut off. "Meet me at the Trauma Center on 14th..."

"Nicky, my main man! I am in the middle of a very interesting road rage scene..."

"I have Sara..."

"What?" Greg suddenly snapped out of his happy babble. "What do you mean?"

"She took some pills." Nick responded. "She doesn't look good, Greg...someone beat the shit out of her...just...just meet me there, man..." He glanced over at Sara again, at the dark bruising of her skin and felt himself boiling with anger as he looked down at the pill bottle with Grissom's name on the side of it. "And get Grissom there, too..."