November 2007
"Alright, I'm out of here." Sara spoke evenly, trying hard to mask her feelings.
Sara left the AV room where Henry, Wendy, Mandy, Greg, Ronni and herself had just watched mart of a horror movie that Wendy had acted in some time ago. She walked down the hall to the locker room. She couldn't breathe. The dark spaces of her mind slowly creeping in further and further. She needed solitude.
She sat there on the locker room bench, staring at her hands. She could feel her rib throbbing now, daring to bring memories back with a flash. She pressed two fingers to it, hoping to sooth the pain. But it only made it worse. Sadness filled her.
"What's up." Greg appeared in the doorway having left the AV room just shortly after Sara to make sure she was alright. From her apperence sitting there, he was fairly confident that she was not.
She looked up to see him there and paused briefly, "You know in the slasher movies, when the go after the dark haired girl. She always dies." Her voice was small and laced with impeding sadness.
Greg walked into the room, "Yeah. And the blonde always lives." He took a seat next to her on the bench now, "Well, aren't you glad it wasn't a movie?"
She laughed at his sentiment, but Greg knew it was forced, "I think, I'm um, sick of having my face shoved in death every day." She looked up at him again now, "The murder rate has gone up every year since I've been here. It's totally out of control, and we're not even slowing them down."
Greg nodded, a small but sad smile occupying his lips. "I like to think we're still making a difference. Regardless of what the numbers show." He paused for a moment, looking deep into her sad eyes, "We're still giving a voice to the victims. Giving closure to families."
"I don't know if that's enough for me anymore."
Greg put a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Sara," His voice was soft and compassionate, "What happened out there that night?" He paused again, watching as she stared blankly ahead at the lockers, "Everyone heals differently, and on their own time. Nick was afraid of ants for like a year after his abduction. Me? I would get a small panic attack for the first few cases I worked solo after being beat up by the swarm... But this is different for you. Something different must have happened to you out there, and I think it's important that you talk about it."
Sara just shook her head with small movements, "Nothing else happened out there—I just—I had a lot of time to think, that's all."
"What did all that thinking tell you?"
"I don't know, honestly. I'm still trying to work that out."
Greg moved his hand to wrap his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a side hug, "Whatever you need. I'm here for you."
"Thanks, Greggo." Sara tilted her head to lean on his shoulder, feeling surprisingly comfortable in his embrace.
Over the next week, Sara fought hard to push the suffocating thoughts and feelings down. She was doing a good job, too. She seemed to be fooling everyone with her 'fine' front, even Grissom. But Greg saw right through it.
"Grissom, can I talk to you?" Greg now stood in Grissom's office doorway. He looked up and waved the younger CSI in. Greg closed the door behind himself.
"What's going on Greg?" Grissom took his reading glass off and placed them on the desk in front of him. He watched as Greg tentatively took a seat.
"I wanted to talk to you about Sara... to strongly urge you too look into ways to get her back on Grave."
"Greg. We've talked about this."
"Look, I know there's this weird line here and I'm trying not to cross it. But I can't keep an eye on her when she's not on Grave. And Mike? The supervisor on Swing is a clueless idiot."
"I'm sure she appreciates your concern, Greg, but she's fine."
"No, Grissom. She's not fine." He paused a moment, trying to gather himself, "Is she talking to anyone? About what's happened?"
"That's not really her style."
"Sara is one of my closest friends. And watching what's happening to her is tearing me apart. I don't get how you can't see this."
But Grissom really couldn't see it, not to the extent by which Greg was trying to describe. Sara is one of the strongest people he knew he truly didn't think there was any cause for such alarm.
"Greg." His voice softened a bit now, "I'm keeping an eye on her, Okay?"
Greg shook his head in defeat, knowing there was not much more he could say, "Okay."
A week past. Grissom took more time to check in with Sara since his conversation with Greg, but each time Sara seamed to truly be fine. And she was, actually. Grissom's presence had a soothing calming effect on her, she felt better when he was around and therefore, there wasn't much for him to see if anything were wrong.
Grissom stirred awake to the sound of his phone going off.
"Grissom." He spoke groggily, Sara now sitting up next to him, having also woken from the sound of his phone. "I'll be there soon." Grissom swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood up.
"Lab?"
"Yeah. There's something going on with Catherine and Greg's case. I've got to get down there." He leaned in and kissed the top of her head, "You should go back to sleep." Hank trotted back from seeing Grissom walk into the bathroom and jumped into bed with Sara, resting his face on her stomach.
Just 15 minutes later Grissom was dressed and ready to head out the door. He whistled for Hank to follow him.
"I'm going to take him to the Groomer. Will you pick him up before you have to head in?"
"Sure thing." She smiled.
A few hours passed and Sara couldn't get back to sleep. Grissom's absence created a safe space for the bad thoughts to come creeping back in. She decided a hot shower might do the trick, but it didn't help much. She sighed and resigned to the fact that she had no power over it anymore.
"You know, I've learned that sometimes you can go faster by going slow."
"Well I like to go faster by going fast."
Grissom and Agent Malone from the NY FBI office stood there discussing the case at hand. Slight tension filled the air.
"You know maybe you should go back to your hotel. Take a nap."
"Is this your office? Really? By choice? It's not some sort of surplus overflow issue?"
"What's wrong with my office?"
Agent Malone looked around, brows raised high, "Uh, I don't know." He took a look at a specimen in a jar, propped up on a baker's rack, "Uh, why don't you tell me?"
"That's an irradiated fetal pig. I used it to determine the effects of radiation on tissue."
"For what?"
"For fun."
Sara made her way to Grissom's office. She smiled as she approached, seeing him standing behind his desk.
"Hey Gil, I uh—Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." She stopped at the sight of the FBI Agent now inspecting some other odd things lining Grissom's walls.
"No, no. It's fine. Jack Malone, FBI. Sara Sidle, CSI." Grissom introduced the two and Sara turned her attention to Malone now.
"Hi."
"Hello." She smiled, "I hear your abduction case is now a serial murder."
"Yeah." He spoke monotone.
Grissom's eyes softened as he looked at Sara. Her presence causing the tension in the air to dissipate.
"Well," Sara turned her attention back to Grissom, staring deeply into his blue orbs, "I got called into work early, but I did pick up Hank and take him to the sitter."
"Thank you. I'll see you when I see you." He smiled as she turned on her heels to head out.
"Is Hank your kid?" Malone spoke once Sara had left.
"Hank's my dog. She walks him for me sometimes."
"Oh yeah. That's how it starts." He walked closer to Grissom now, "I have some experience dating in the work place."
"Really?" He paused, "And, uh, how'd it work out for you?" Grissom was genuinely curious.
"Undetermined."
Sara walked into the house behind the officer. Blood trail leading to the kitchen area.
"Sara. Over here." Sara followed the officer's voice to the living room and saw the woman on the ground, bludgeoned. A blanket covering her body.
"Hi."
"Hey, I'm at a scene with a similar M.O. to your serial murder."
"Text me the address, I'll be there soon."
About twenty minutes later Doc Robbins and Grissom arrived at the scene. Sara had already begun to take photos and swab blood samples. It had been a long time since the two worked a scene together. It felt nice at first, but the moment was fleeting.
"Drivers licenses on top, like before."
"He likes to know there names." Sara looked up from her camera at Grissom.
"I heard the husband died at the hospital." Doc spoke from his kneeled position by the body. Grissom and Sara turned to face him. He continued, "But the killer was definitely here a while. According to liver temp she died a couple hours before the husband."
Sara's face lost all of its color. "So, the husband was here and alive while his wife was being raped and killed?" Her voice was small and defeated. Grissom looked at her now, and suddenly saw the pain behind her eyes. Perhaps the same pain Greg was trying to warn him about last week.
"It looks that way." Robbins replied.
Sara fought back tears as she looked down at her camera. Trying to distract herself. But it wasn't working. She walked out of the house without saying a word. Grissom quickly followed.
"Hey, Sara." His voice was soft, worry evident. She turned to face him as she walked down the driveway, "You okay?"
"I don't know." She said honestly. Her words rasp with un-fallen tears. His eyes squinted and soft, trying desperately to read her. "Do you have any idea how he selects his victims?"
"No. He picks houses with no security systems or dogs. Enters at night when most people are asleep, through open doors or windows. Easy targets."
"So. Basically at random." Water filled her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall. He nodded. "They were spending a night on the sofa. Watching a movie. It's just um—" Sara shook her head, realizing the tears were going to fall. She turned to walk away from him, "It's just wrong."
He watched as she walked off to her car. His heart constricting.