Title: New Beginnings

Author: Joyce

Disclaimer: They are still not mine

Note: It's been awhile...ok...a long while. Life got in the way and my inspiration for this story took a long vacation...shrugs I'm getting back into the swing of this story though, starting with this chapter. This idea got me to write this story again and the next chapter will be longer. This takes place during and after 1.7 Blood Drops. Please let me know what you think!

Crumbling Walls

This was one case where he didn't mind not being in the house where the crime had taken place. Normally he wanted to see the victim, not because of morbid fascination, but to get a feel of the nature of the attack. After a while he had learned to see if a attack had been aggressive, passionate, pure hate. You could see it by the look of terror on the face of a victim. This time he had entered the house of the scene and felt nothing but sorry. Something that he had learned to shut down a long time ago because getting emotionally attached to a case was something that never helped. The walls were covered with blood though and a family had been killed, except for two daughters who had been lucky. Warrick saw the youngest girl sitting next to Sara while staring blankly ahead and had wondered how lucky the girl really had been. He was glad when Grissom told him to process the backyard, it gave him some fresh air and took him away from a house that was dark even when the sun was shining like it was now. Sara had left to take the girl to the hospital and he had noticed a look of fear on her face when they drove off. She was smart and caring but she seemed to fear kids, almost like she was afraid that they would not want to be with her. Shaking his head he cleared his mind of images of her, something that he was getting used to, and focused on his job. They had a killer to catch...

15 hours later

An exhausted Warrick entered his home, to tired to think about casino's or even a shower for that matter. He just wanted to sleep and forget about a case that had touched him more then he cared to admit. When his phone rang he debated whether or not he should pick up until he recognized the number.

"Sara?" he asked her but he just heard her breathe on the other end of the line, like she was in a panic. "Sara?" he said again. Another pause and then she spoke, softly, like she had been crying. "Could you come over?"

"I'll be right there," was his only reply and then he was out of the door. Not caring about sleep anymore but just needing to get to her. Twenty minutes later he knocked on her door. She opened it immediately and seemed scared and lost, vulnerable. "Are you ok?" he asked her, knowing full well that she wasn't but not knowing where else to begin. She just stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him. "Shhhh," he whispered, saying nothing more then that while rubbing his hands in circles on her back. He held her for a long time until she stepped away from him. Seemingly embarrassed. "It's ok," he reassured her. She nodded, not very convinced and turned around. He watched her back for a while before he looked around the living room. He saw forensic journals, a police scanner but no pictures or anything else that was personal. Nothing that told him that the warm person he had come to know as Sara lived here.

"Talk to me," he eventually said. She didn't move at all. "About anything," he finished.

"She held my hand today," she mumbled, finally turning around and looking at him. Warrick didn't need to ask who she was talking about, he knew. He nodded, silently encouraging her to carry on. "She was like a younger version of me, Rick."

"But blond," he said with a small smile and he got what he wanted, no matter how silly the comment had been, a hint of a smile in return.

"I remember being in that same place of denial, being just as catatonic," Sara admitted and he winced, sensing a hurt that she shouldn't have to carry with her because she didn't deserve it.

"When was that, Sara?" he asked her, taking a step towards her while his voice was gentle.

"A long while ago," was her vague reply and she left it at that. "Do you want a drink?" she then offered and he blinked, confused by the sudden turn of events. "Coffee is good."

"Coffee it is," she replied, disappearing into the kitchen and he took a seat on her couch. Warrick wanted to know more about her past but most of all he wanted to fix it, make it better. He was not going to make it better today though. He had seen the look on her face when she walked to the kitchen, embarrassed, determined not to show anymore of her vulnerable side. When she came back she took a seat next to him, silently handing him her coffee and he accepted it with a nod of thanks. After a while she grabbed his hand.

"Thank you," he heard her whisper, not looking at him. "I...I didn't know who to call but you."

"That's fine," he reassured her, forcing her to look at him when he put his fingers under her chin and gently lifted her head up. "Whatever else we might become," he started, "we're also friends. You can call me when you need me."

She blinked. "We're friends?" He just nodded and a hint of a smile broke out on her face. "I don't usually think about my friends like I do about you," Sara said, now with a full grin.

He grinned too, shrugging a little. "We're special friends."

She raised her eyebrows. "Is 'special' street language for sexually attracted?"

Warrick pretended to think about it. "Why not," he decided, "I think it can be."

She stood up, nodding a little and with a little more bounce in her step as she walked back to the kitchen, taking his empty glass with her. When she came back he had put on his jacket, offering her a lazy smile. "I'm dying for some sleep," he explained and that was all she needed.

"Go," she simply told him and he hesitated for a while before stepping back towards her, his hands on her shoulders. "If you ever need to talk...about anything. Call me."

Sara reached up and hugged him as an answer. "Once I'm ready," she promised and he held her for a little while longer.

"Bye," he finally offered once he had distanced himself from her and she waved. "Thanks," she said again. When he was outside he sighed and looked back at her home one last time, wanting nothing more then to go back and take her pain away. He shook his head once, telling himself that she wasn't ready. That he wasn't ready. They both had problems they needed to fix first. Walking towards his car he told himself that he would take her pain away somehow, just like she was slowly erasing his. "I promise, Sara..." he whispered to himself. This was one promise he was going to keep...

Tbc...