So beautiful. Even covered in blood, Sara was beautiful. I held on to her bloody hand as the paramedic tried to stop the bleeding. Sara stared up at me, though I wasn't sure is she really saw anything. She squeezed my hand so hard, I began to fear that my fingers may break. I never knew she was that strong. I heard the paramedic swearing fluently, and I turned to see what was wrong. 'Idiot! What's wrong is Sara is bleeding to death!' I mentally screamed at myself. The paramedic notices me looking at her, and starts to speak.
"I just can't figure out why this won't stop... or why she's even still alive."
I wished I could unhear that. What if Sara couldn't be saved? What if she died... God, I needed to stop thinking like that. First Jim, now Sara... Were the people I was close to cursed?
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2 hours earlier
I was just arriving home, after a night at Grissom's. Ever since Brass had been shot, almost all of my nights had been spent with Grissom. It had quickly become a habit to drive to his home after work, instead of mine, and we both fell into the routine comfortably. Somehow, none of our friends had noticed anything, or, if they had, they hadn't said anything. I unlocked the door, and went into my apartment. The first thing I noticed was that none of the lights were on. I always left at least the living room light on, so that I didn't have to stumble through the dark when I got in late.
I was heading for the lightswitch when someone grabbed me from behind and dragged me through the kitchen into my bedroom. I kicked an screamed all the way, knocking things over. And right then, the thing I had been thankful for most about this apartment became a horrible thing. The walls were virtually sound-proof. No one would be able to hear me. My assailant threw me onto my bed, and I remembered something Grissom had once told me: "All of us CSIs have crimes that we just can't stand to see, and that we wish we'd never have to see again."
That was true. Catherine's worst were the cases dealing with little girls or the exotic dancers that sometimes got into trouble, Nick, poor Nicky's was sexually abused children, particularly boys. Warrick, Greg, and Grissom's were cases dealing with any crime against children. And mine? Mine were the rape cases. And from what I'd seen, all of us feared that we would have to live through the cases we thought were worst, although Nick already had lived through his.
When my attacker threw me on the bed, the only thing that went through my mind was that I was going to end up like so many other women had, many of them, I had delt with. But instead, the man shoved me to the floor, and kicked me. It didn't matter, anything was better than having to suffer through the horror that so many others had. He kicked me again, and again, and then started using his fists to hit me. He ripped at my clothes, and I heard my cell phone clatter across the floor. When he had enough of my skin exposed, he dug his fingernails into my skin, creating deep gouges in my chest. I returned the favor, and raked my nails across his throat. It didn't seem to phase him. The more I kicked and clawed at him, the harder he hit me. Though he never once touched my face.
I don't know how long he beat me. To me it seemed like an eternity. But eventually, he got up, and pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket, and slipped them on. Then he turned, and left the room. I lay on my side, barely able to move. My ear was to the floor, so I could hear something vibrating. My phone! It lay no more than a foot from me. I glanced back towards the door, and reached for it. I only had time to flip it open before the man came back. I heard Grissom's voice coming through the phone, but I couldn't reply. I was frozen in fear by the way the man was looking at me, and the way he turned one of my kitchen knives in his hand.
"What're you doing?" I said, hoping Grissom would hear.
"It's time for you to say good night, Sara." said the man, as though he wanted to be heard as well.
"Sara!" I heard Grissom's voice say.
The man's gaze flicked towards the phone, and he grinned. "Good girl. You did just what I'd hoped you would."
He approached me, knife held towards me. I backed up, sobbing, in pain and fear. When he buried the knife in my side the first time, I screamed. Then the second time, I screamed again. I heard Grissom yell my name one last time before my whole world went black.
I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up, I could hear sirens wailing, and I heard a woman cursing, and I felt someone holding my hand. I ached all over, and it was hard to breathe. I managed to open my eyes, to see where I was. What I saw was the blue eyes that I had come to love over the years, and even more, in the past few months. I squeezed Grissom's hand once, so hard he winced, and then, I fell back into unconciousness.
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I saw the mess that was Sara's room, and almost vomited. All that blood... It wasn't that I had never seen things like this before, worse even... It was that that blood belonged to a friend. Appearently, despite succeeding in not throwing up, I didn't succeed in not looking sick, for Nick spoke to me, looking worried.
"You okay, Greggo?" he asked, using Sara's nickname for me, "You can go outside if you need to. Rick, Cath and I can do this."
I shook my head. I wanted to be a part of catching the man who'd done this to our Sara. I walked further into the room, wondering where Griss was. "Hey, Rick, where's Grissom? I'd've thought he'd be the first one here..."
"He was," Warrick replied, "He's the one who called it in, and got an ambulance for Sara. He went with her I think."
I said nothing in reply. I simply looked at the wall he'd been photographing. I wished I hadn't. Written on it, in Sara's blood was the message "An eye for an eye, Grissom". So, who ever had done this, had done it only to get to Grissom. That made me even more angry. Using people to get at someone else always did that... But Sara? Why Sara? Not that I would have been any less upset by it, but wouldn't Brass have been a wiser choice? He was Griss's best friend.
Unless the person had caught on, like everyone at the lab had, to Grissom's attraction to Sara? That was a possibility. Well, maybe not everyone... Nick had yet to catch on, but Nick was never the most observant when it came to Grissom. Sara maybe, but not Grissom.
Catherine was busy dusting the room for prints, and was getting alot. Most of them were going to be Sara's, but we had to be thorough. Seeing no work for me in there, I went to the living room. On the coffee table sat a box, that had obviously once been locked, but the tiny padlock sat next to ot it, broken. The box lay open, and there were photos all over the table, around it. Stuck to the side of the box was a sticker, that read "S. Sidle". I was surprised to see that many of the photos were of Sara and Grissom together. I recognized many of the locations, since most were various casino-restaraunts, or the many parks in Vegas. Some had been taken in Sara's home, others in Grissom's.
Why had the perp. done this? Why lay out the pictures like this? I took a glance inside the box and saw that there was a small camcorder in there. I reached in and pulled it out, and decided to see what was recorded on it. What I saw, I'll never forget.
The camera had been placed so that it had a clear veiw of all of Sara's bedroom. For a moment, there was nothing there, then Sara was thrown into veiw. The sounds of her yells, emitting from the camcorder drew the others into the room to see what was going on. Her screams and pleas as she was beaten were going to give me nightmares. By the time I watched the man stand up, and slip on a pair of gloves, I was ready to throw the camera across the room. Sara was reaching for something, her phone, looked like. She didn't get to talk to whoever it was, for the man came back into the room. Something he was holding made Sara back away in fear.
"What're you doing?" Sara asked.
"Time for you to say goodnight," the man replied.
Another voice, that I couldn't quite make out, said something. Her phone, I realized. That was how Grissom had known what was going on.
Sara's scream when the man stabbed her the first time was heart-wrenching, the second brought a feeling of pure rage. All I wanted to do was find the man and kill him. I think all of us were feeling like that right then. Sara made no more noise after that, I think she was unconcious. Ten times, that man stabbed her. It was no surprise now, that there was so much blood. I watched, wishing I wasn't, as he wrote that message on the wall with the blood all over the floor. Then he pulled something out of the front of his shirt, and slipped it over his face. He approached the camera, and I saw that he was wearing a plastic mask.
"I hope you've enjoyed watching this, Grissom. I know I certainly enjoyed watching my sister slowly die in prison. You know, that hell became so unbearable for her that she eventually killed herself. I've left the lovely Sara here alive, for now, so that you can have the privilage of watching her die. And if the pain doesn't drive you so mad, that you kill yourself eventually, I'll be along to finish the job. Or Sara, if she lives. Toodles."
The recording stopped there, and I was glad it did. I don't know how much more of it I could have taken.
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I sat and waited and waited in the hospital lobby. Waiting for news on Sara... my Sara. Be it good, or bad. It seemed like an eternity later that the doctor came into the lobby, and beckoned me over to him. Somehow, from the look on his face, I doubted the news was good.
"Well, we got her bleeding stopped, and we moved her to ICU," he paused for the longest time, then asked, "Are you a family member?"
"No," I replied,
"Are you her husband?"
"No," I said again, wondering what this was about, "I don't know what you'd classify our relationship as-"
"But you are sexual partners?" he cut me off.
I found this to be a rather personal question, but I answered anyway, "Yes."
He looked for a moment as if he'd been hoping I would say no, "Then you should know, Miss Sidle was pregnant. She was several months along ,so she must've known..."
The shock was enough to make me momentarily speechless. I knew my mouth was open, but I didn't care. "wh- what do you mean 'was'?" I managed to say, though I knew the answer.
"I assume she hadn't told you..." he muttered, then spoke in a serious tone, "You see, Mr. Grissom, with the extent of her injuries... It's a miracle even she survived, there was no way the child could have survived the beating she took, and the stab wounds."
I sighed. I had known that was coming, "How is she doing?"
"Right now? She's concious, and able to speak, but you should know, Mr. Grissom, the odds of her making it through the next couple of days are slim. I know it may not be the easiest thing to hear, but she may not live through the night. If she can survive through the week, she should be fine. But she has to make it through the week."
I stood in the door way of Sara's room, looking at her. She was propped up on a pillow, head tilted back, eyes closed. I leaned on the door frame, and waited for her to notice me. It took only a few moments for her to notice that she was being watched, for her eyes suddenly snapped open, and she turned her head in my direction. She might have smiled, were these different circumstances. Now, however, all she managed was a small twitch of her lips. I went to her, took her hand. She gave my fingers a gentle squeeze as I sat in the chair near the bed.
"What's the damage?" she asked, drowsily.
I looked at the clipboard that lay on the table next to me, and read it aloud. " 'Four broken ribs, internal bleeding, massive external bruising, ten stab wounds; four to the left side of the ribcage, five to the right, and one to the stomach." I saw her go even more pale than she already had been at the last, but she nodded at me to continue, " 'massive bloodloss. Subject was 3 months pregnant. Injuries sustained killed the fetus.' "
She looked at me for a moment as if she might cry, but she held it in, and said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't know for sure myself until about a week ago... Well, I guess I did, I just didn't want to admit it to myself. I wasn't sure of even how to tell you, or how you might react, or even what we'd do..." she paused a moment, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, "I guess we don't have to worry now, but still..."
I could tell my approval had been important too her, and for a moment, I almost thought about telling her she would have been given it. But I stopped myself, truth be told, I wasn't sure how I might have reacted, had she told me, and if this hadn't happened. All I could do was give her a quick, and what I hoped was comforting kiss.
When I sat back down, she let the tears out. "I was so scared," she sobbed, "When he grabbed me, and dug me into my room, the only thing I could think of was that he was going to rape me... I was so afraid of that one thing, that I was almost glad when he just beat me... And when I got to the phone, and heard you, I started to have some hope that I would get out of it alive. But then he came back in with that knife, and all I could think was that the last you were ever going to hear from me was screams, while he killed me, and that I was never going to see you again, or the others..."
She stopped there, and simply cried. I sat on the edge of her bed, and embraced her gently, noticing with a rising feeling of anger, the bruises that covered her body, all the way up to her neck. Who ever had done thing was going to pay. That much I was going to make sure of. And if Sara didn't make it... There was going to be all hell to pay.
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