Chapter 12: My Brown Eyed Girl...
Warnings & Disclaimers- see chapter one
It had been three days since the 'bathtub incident' as Grissom remembered it. Sara had been saying she was 'fine', and had even agreed to see Nick, Cath, Warrick and Greg for a bit, even though their visits never lasted longer than fifteen minutes, as Sara had a tendency to fall asleep quickly, soundly and suddenly.
Her doctor hadn't realised that she had been given sleeping drugs by Jayden Bounton, and so by giving her a rather strong sedative in addition to that, made the finished result a combination of sleeping drugs that were enough to 'knock out a small horse.' and had sent her in to a sleep-filled dreamland. Although, she didn't have dreams...her unconscious thoughts presented themselves in the form of nightmares...
Grissom was worried for Sara. After the stitches were put in her leg, and she had woken up, she wouldn't say anything about Bounton, or talk about what had happened to her when she was abducted. She wanted out of the hospital, she wanted to go back to work. She talked about old cases non-stop when she was awake, and the only proper emotion she had shown, was when Grissom told her that Nicola Sherpe's father had gone to jail, then been put on death row for the various atrocities that he had committed. Sara had smiled and said. "I knew it was that bastard. I knew it. How did you get him?" but as Grissom had told her the case details, she had fallen asleep.
Currently, Sara was seeing the hospitals resident psychiatrist. She had protested and protested, but with both Gil and Dr Glyyn against her, with the occasional input from Nicky who was there at the time, she had dressed in her jeans, snorting at Dr Glyyns suggestion that she just put on a robe ("Do you think I want to walk around this place semi-naked?") and gone up to floor three. Of course, they made her go in a wheelchair, to add to the indignity, and when the nurse had pushed her away, she had been spitting sparks at the three men, mad as hell.
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"Zara, do you think that putting up these," here the shrink made air quotation marks "emotional walls will help you in the long run?"
Sara wanted to hit him. This stupid, dokter-freud-esque idiot had been asking her stupid questions like this for the past 45 minutes. And calling her Zara, even though she'd repeatedly told him her name was Sara.
She didn't answer him.
"Do you agree with the statement that you are 'emotionally withdrawn?'" yet again with the air quotes. "Zara?"
"It's SARA. S-A-R-A. Sa-Ra."
"Does it bother you when people mispronounce your name?"
"YES"
He made a note in his pad of paper.
"Sah-rah," he enunciated the two syllables, probably scared of setting her off again, Sara mentally snorted. "Do you agree with the statement that you are 'emotionally withdrawn?'"
"No."
"All evidence points to the contrary. You're unmarried, no long term attachments-from what you told me, no family, no life outside your work."
"My life is my work. I didn't think I was here to talk about my work."
"We are trying to get an overall view of your life, Sah-rah. Then we can begin the healing process."
"Right. Okay. Buh-bye." She stood up. No fucking way. No fucking way was she going to sit there for an hour and a half talking to this jackass.
"Zara, please. Sit down."
"IT'S FUCKING SARA! NOT ZARA! YOU STUPID FUCK!"
She stormed out of the office, and ran for the stairwell. Fuck him, fuck them all. Argh! Big deal, unmarried at 28! She wasn't that old! No long-term-attachments, well, who could fucking blame it on her? She only worked the mammoth hours she did so she wouldn't have to be alone, and then end up dwelling on all these thoughts that she couldn't bear. She helped people when she was working too, the longer she spent at work, the less killers went free. So if her work was her life, wasn't that a good thing?
She bent her head into her knees. She didn't cry, but she had a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away, no matter how many times she swallowed. She hated this. Being here, being her. She just wanted to forget.
"Excuse me? Sweetie? You okay?" she whirled her head around to see the older woman who was talking to her.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You got a relative up here?" the woman nodded to the door behind them. "It's hard seeing people when they're this way."
Sara was confused. In what way? Then it clicked in her mind. The shrinks office was in the 'mental health' ward. Where the slightly crazy people went, before proper mental hospital.
"It's my daughter. She won't be here long, she just got a touch of the, uh, "baby-blues" as they call it." Sara listened as the woman told her about her daughters recently born son, how small he was, how much he weighed, whether he could smile yet...all those things that grandparents are so proud of. After maybe 20 minutes of talking, the woman said, in a shocked voice:
"My goodness, I've been yapping for ages! I told my daughter that I was going for a quick cup of coffee! And I've held you up for ages!"
As Sara bid goodbye to the woman, and then walked down the stairs, she wondered if her mother, wherever the hell she was, talked about Sara and Edd any more, or if they were just distant memories? If she had grand parents? If her mom missed her? Sara didn't realise she was back at her room until she opened the door.
The empty room greeted her, and she collapsed on her bed...
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Grissom hated leaving the hospital. What if something happened when he was away? What if there was a repeat of what happened in the bathtub? But he knew she was in with the psychiatrist and he'd be back soon, so she wouldn't have to be on her own for long.
Ecklie had phoned his cell yet again, to ask if he would be going in that day. Grissom had taken the last week and a half off, unofficially, which he could do since he had so much over the overtime limit. But now Ecklie was starting to harass him, so he decided to take some holiday leave time, and spend it with Sara. He was determined to help her get better, and he wanted to spend more time with her. He kicked himself for missing all the years he had the opportunity to do so, but hadn't taken said opportunity.
"Gil. I was wondering when we'd see your face." Ecklie said bitterly, as Gil placed his official holiday leave form on his superiors desk. "One month. Why so long?"
"Personal reasons."
"Do you realize how short-staffed we'll be, what with Sidle not being in?"
"Is Sinnita just a decoration then?"
Ecklie frowned. "This is unreasonable. No body is entitled to this much holiday leave."
"I haven't taken a holiday leave for six years. I am entitled to this."
"But the lab..." As Ecklie tailed of, Gil knew he had won this argument. "fine, fine, fine" he heard the other man say as he strode from the office to the lab, to find the rest of the CSI's.
After talking to them for 30 minutes or so, and telling them about his time off, he all but ran to his car, desperate to get back up to Desert Palms...
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"Why's Griss taking so much time off?" Warrick asked the rest of the team.
"I reckon he's just taken on too much." Catherine was matter-of-fact. "He's was overworked the entire time Sara was, uh, away, and now she's safe, he needs some down time. Maybe he's going on a proper holiday, like to europe or somewhere."
"No, Honolulu." said Greg with a grin. "Can you imagine him in a grass skirt?" he started swaying his hips frenetically, while imitating the whine of Hawaiian music. Badly.
"Ok Greggy, cut the sexy dancing" Nick laughed as he tried to get past Greg to the coffee machine.
"But seriously-a month is a long time." Warrick was persistent.
"Rick, Gil hasn't taken a holiday in six years." Catherine suspected that it was more than just a holiday, more like something to do with a tall brunette, but she didn't want the rest of the team knowing. "Doesn't he deserve a little time off?"
"Guess so. Damn, I wish I could get a month off."
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Jayden Bounton was in a fantastic mood. His mother was getting better, his trip to London had been enjoyable, and they had upgraded him on his flight, since they overbooked the seats. He was a little worried about his Princess though, he had only left her enough food for ten or so days, and he had been gone for nearly two weeks. He knew she'd still be alive, but he hoped that she'd be better than just alive...
He made his way to his beaten up ford, and lifted his small suitcase into the boot. Then, settling into the drivers eat, and turning on the radio, he made his way out of the long-term carparking area.
As he drove off the freeway, the radio crackled out "And now we have one of our favourite oldies, Van Morrisson!"
As My Brown Eyed Girl played from the speakers, Jayden laughed and started to sing along. It was a sign...
"
Whatever happened
To Tuesday and so slow
Going down the old mine
With a transistor radio
Standing in the sunlight laughing,
Hiding behind a rainbow's wall,
Slipping and sliding
All along the water fall, with you
My brown eyed girl,
You my brown eyed girl.
Do you remember when we used to sing,
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da
So hard to find my way,
Now that I'm all on my own.
I saw you just the other day,
My how you have grown,
Cast my memory back there, Lord
Sometime I'm overcome thinking 'bout
Making love in the green grass
Behind the stadium with you
My brown eyed girl
You my brown eyed girl"
He drove past the seven-eleven, the laundromat, the other dilapidated houses, until he had reached his falling apart house, which he had more than once compared to a shack...
WHAT THE FUCK!? There were two police cars outside his door. Ohfuckshitfuckuckfuckfuck. SHIT. Ohgod. What would he do? What should he do? There was a news van there too, an attractive blond man was interviewing one fat police officer. The fat police officer saw Jayden behind the wheel of the ford, and reached for his radio.
Jayden floored it.
"BACK UP! BACK UP! SUSPECT IS HEADING TOWARDS ROSANNA STREET, NEAR THE PARK! BACK UP NEEDED IMMEADIATELY!"
The other police car had driven out after the ford immediately, and was currently following it through the Las Vegas streets.
The reporter had started gabbling excitedly into his microphone. "And the suspect in question has just fled the scene...police are following by...kidnapping of a CSI...possibly armed...identified as...recently out of...update on the chase...back to the studio..."
What could he do? What? What? Ohfuck, ohfuck. He spotted a gap between two buildings and pulled into it. Engulfed by dark shadows, the police cars sped past, not noticing. He was fine. Thank fucking god. He'd lost her. He'd lost his Princess. Jayden punched his dashboard. Fucking cops. Fucking Sara. His stupid fucking mother. Okay...his plan...his plan...what could he do?
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Grissom pushed open her door, only to see her staring mutely at the t.v.
"Sara, honey, you okay?"
She just stared at the pictures moving in front of her. "Griss. Is this-is that him?"
"What?" Confused, Grissom walked over to the t.v. And saw the news reporter say:
"Earlier today, a man wanted for the abduction and rape of a law enforcement officer managed to evade four police vehicles. The suspect, unnamed for legal reasons, was seen driving past the property where the young woman he abducted was found earlier in the week, and was spotted by one police officer," here, the camera panned to the footage of the cop shouting into his radio, "however, the suspect managed to escape police capture on the corner of watford avenue. Police are still looking. And our other headlines-" Grissom picked up the remote, and switched off the t.v.
"He got away."
Griss nodded "yes"
"He's out there."
Another nod "Yes."
"he can come find me whenever he wants. Then he's going to kill me."
"Honey, no. you're going to be safe. He won't-"
"Do you know how he's going to do it? He said he would torture me. Burn the bottom of my feet. Then make me walk on broken glass. Then tie me up. Then, he'd kill everyone I cared about in front of me. And I'd know it was my fault, because if I didn't care, they wouldn't die. He said he'd slit Nicky's throat. And shoot Greg through the stomach,so he'd bleed out. And then he said he'd rape Linsey and Cath, and make me watch. Then he'd stab War, like he did to Alyssa. After that, he would cut off your skin. And time how long it took you to die. Then he'd cut out my eyes and-" by now she was shaking, rocking backwards and forwards, sobbing and sobbing, like she'd just been told the world was going to end.
"Sara, he won't."
"I'm sorry gil. I'm sorry. He-he said he'd r-r—read my diaries. H-h-he knew who you-you all were. It's my fault. I aksed him t-t-to. I d-didn't want him to. B-b-ut it's my f-f-ault-"
Grissom couldn't stand seeing her so distraught. "Honey. Sara. Sar. It's not your fault. No body could ask for this."
Sara's eyes were full of fear and self-recrimination "b-but I d-did. I-"
"No you didn't" Grissoms voice was gentle, and he sat on the side of her bed, so that they were both leaning against the headboard. "You didn't"
"I did. I asked him t-to. You don't kn-know." She was really picking up pace, disconsolately sobbing and breathing shallowly.
"I do. Sara, I read-"
"It's my f-f-fault. H-he said s-so. I'm a s-s-slut. P-po-He said I'm a whore."
"Please don't say that honey. You're not. You're not."
Sara had totally broken down. She was inconsolable, she couldn't stop crying, and Grissom couldn't stop her whatever he said. So he pulled her closer to him, stroked her hair and she sobbed for what seemed like hours into his shoulder. After she quietened down to the occasional sniffle and hiccup.
"Sara?"
He was answered by a snuffly sort of noise, and felt her try to pull away, but he squeezed her even tighter to his side. "No Sara. You're not running away, not running off to go cut yourself in the bathroom. There are too many people who care so much about you, who don't want to let you destroy yourself. I won't let you destroy yourself. Honey, please let us help you."
"He's going to come back. He-"
"He won't. The police are conducting a search in the tristate area. His photograph is all over the news by now, as is his name. They finally got legal clearance to name him. He'll get caught soon."
"Grissom, when I said I asked him, I didn't mean J-Jayden."
"I know."
"What? How?"
"Honey, I'm sorry, but when you went missing we had to do everything to find you. Everything. So-"
"You all read my diaries." Her voice was quiet, filled with shame.
"No. only Nicky, Cath and I. Nicky only read the first one, and Cath only read- she read the second one. I was the only person that read them all."
Sara tried to pull away from him again. He wouldn't let her. "Sara, please try to-"
"You know about- about Him? About the, uh, other stuff?"
"Sara, I'm not judging you. Nobody is. Nobody ever would."
"You should. I only deserve to be judged."
"No Sara. You were only a little kid. Who was manipulated, and hurt. What would you say to a fourteen year old who came in to be processed, and told you she had been locked into a cupboard, until she asked that? Would you say she was a slut? A whore?"
"No. no. b-but-"
"But nothing."
"But after...The drugs, and promiscu-"
"It's not promiscuity honey. You were, what, fourteen? At that age, nobody could go through what you did, and not have some reaction to it."
"You've been reading psycho-babble-bullshit-books Griss, haven't you?" he was relieved to hear the smile in her voice.
"Only for you Sara. Don't tell anyone, they'll think I've gone soft."
She moved closer to his side, and he held her tightly.
"I-I just wish that I'd been a normal teenager. Done things properly, the way they should be."
"I think when they say the teenage years are the best of your life, they don't take into account the 75 of the population who have shit teenage years."
He felt Sara laugh against him. They stayed in that position, him sitting with his back straight against the metal headboard, her curled up against him. for what felt like hours to Grissom, until he noticed Sara's breathing had regulated. He could feel her breath whispering past his neck as she inhaled and exhaled with her head on his shoulder. He smelt her apple shampoo, and kissed the top of her head. "Sara, I love you."
She stirred "What?"
oh fuck. She wasn't sleeping. Screw it. He was going to grow some balls and tell her what he really thought. "I love you."
"Aw, thanks Gris. I love you too." She shifted around until she found a comfier way of lying, put her head on his chest and went back to 'sleep' Grissom let out the breath he had been holding for the past, oh, three or four minutes.
That had gone well. She hadn't told him to piss off for ignoring her all these years. She had the chance to get her own back, but she never took it. He smiled, and leant his head back. He slept, his breathing synchronising with hers...
AWWW, how adorable! yeah, but there will be much more angst...I still have like, another 15 chaptes left to write, i have many, many ideas in my head...haha.. please read and review! C'mon, i'm a review addict! you know u want to review me...lmao. sorry, too many pixie sticks today...