A/N: This is actually going to be the last chapter of this story! I want to thank everyone again for reading and reviewing; seriously, I love all you guys! I hope you guys enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! The lyrics at the end of this chapter are from Robbie Robertson's 'Unbound'. I do not own the lyrics or song, and of course I do not own CSI! ;)

Chapter Seven: Unbound

He stood in the observation room with narrowed eyes- nothing but pure hatred for the man sitting at the cold steel table in the interrogation room. It took every little ounce of his strength to resist throwing the door open and just pouncing on the bastard right that minute. In truth, Warrick would, if it weren't for Grissom standing in the room next to him to make sure Warrick stayed away from the suspect. Warrick tapped his heel impatiently as he waited for Brass to begin the interrogation; he just wanted this guy behind bars. Now.

Grissom stood next to Warrick and observed his body language- he was anxious, he could tell, but then again, who wasn't at the moment? The entire team just wanted this guy behind bars to ensure that he never hurt Sara- let alone anyone- ever again. It was the first time Grissom would have to admit he was feeling empathy for the victim. Because…the victim wasn't just a victim- it was Sara.

Grissom noticed how protective Warrick was of Sara. It was no surprise to him or anyone else for that matter that this whole ordeal had brought the two of them closer. Sara was dependent on Warrick, and Warrick was going to make sure that she was safe- no matter what. Warrick would take a bullet for Sara to ensure her safety.

Grissom opened up the file he held in his hand to read over the facts once again. Flipping through page after page, he finally stopped when he got to the license photo and registration of the suspect sitting in the room in front of them.

After the suspect was arrested he was also identified as one Roy Hopper. He had a residence in the greater north area of Las Vegas; pretty expensive digs for a guy dressed like him picked up off the street. He drove a silver Lexus and owned a Buick and Mercedes; Mercedes of which was currently in the shop getting serviced.

Now Warrick and Grissom were just trying to find out what connection to Sara this fancy street punk had.

The door to the observation room and opened and Jim Brass walked through the doors with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. Warrick and Grissom turned around to greet him, and instead of taking a sip of the coffee, Brass handed the cup to Warrick. "Thought you'd need that," he explained to him. With a sigh, he looked at Grissom. "Ready, Gil?"

Grissom merely nodded, holding the folder in his hands up for confirmation. He turned to Warrick. "We have the evidence, and we'll get him," he explained. "There's not a jury in Clark County that we can't make this case to."

Warrick just nodded slowly. "Hurry up and nail his ass, will you? Nail it to the wall."

Brass shot him a small smile, but there was nothing humorous about it. "Don't worry- right now this guy's ass is on my top priority of asses to nail."

Warrick didn't smile as he turned to look back at the one-way mirror of the observation room. The suspect was too calm for his liking; he was sitting with one leg crossed over the other and had the most calm and content expression on his face Warrick had ever seen. He barely even moved as the door opened and Brass and Grissom walked inside. When Brass sat down across from him, he finally looked up from his shiny silver ring on his hand to acknowledge them both.

"Dr. Grissom, Detective," Roy said, nodding to them both. "It's a pleasure."

Grissom and Brass both looked at each other; even Warrick's face contorted into a look of confusion. Gone was the street accent from before, this guy's voice (obviously his natural voice) was smooth and sophisticated.

"Roy Hopper," Brass said. "You want to tell me why a guy like you has a place up in north Vegas?" he asked. "I mean…apart from the fancy Buick, Mercedes and Lexus, of course."

Roy shrugged. "I'm a successful man, Detective Brass," Roy simply said.

"And what is it that you do that you're so successful in?" Grissom asked.

Roy smiled. "Just a little business here and there; I must say life on the streets is much more entertaining than suburban living. I prefer my job over that of running a high-ranked corporation. Mine gives me more of a…rush, a sense of self-satisfaction."

Warrick felt his hands balling into fists. He didn't even feel the steaming warm coffee overflowing in the cup running onto his hand from him squeezing it; he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts and emotions. You sick son of a… A rush? Self-satisfaction? You call raping a defenseless woman a rush and a sense of self-satisfaction? He thought to himself. He wanted to run into the room, slam the guy against the wall and make him beg for mercy…but somehow he was able to refrain from actually doing so. You call that your job? It's a choice, you asshole!

"You call raping a woman your job?" Brass asked. "Explain that one to me, 'cause I'm not quite getting it."

Roy just laughed. "That? That was just a little treat for me. I had been finishing up some business one night and I was heading back to my house. I was waiting for my ride to come around when I saw a woman standing in front of a building. Alone."

Warrick gritted his teeth so he wouldn't scream. He tried not to make the mental picture of how the whole thing happened in his mind, but try as he might he could not make this sick movie stop.

"So you…just decided to have a little fun, is that it?" Brass asked, a firm sting to his tone.

Roy just nodded. "Yeah; she was hot, how could I not have?"

Warrick bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. He was going to give this guy three chances, and if he blew them… One.

"You knew what you were doing was wrong and you chose to do it anyway," Grissom said. "You sexually-assaulted a woman."

"Actually, you sexually-assaulted an officer of the law," Brass said.

"We took your DNA and compared it to the semen found at the scene and from the rape kit," Grissom said, pushing a piece of paper forward onto the table. "It matched."

Brass looked over at Roy once again. "Now Roy…we know you're not just some random guy from off the street. You're a successful thirty-six-year-old man," he told him. "Obviously, you're not that stupid."

Roy smiled. "I'm a smart guy, Detective."

No you're not, you son of a bitch, Warrick thought. Two.

"Obviously not that smart," Grissom said, adding in his two cents. "You didn't make sure to leave no trace of yourself behind. You were sloppy; you left us every inch of evidence to collect and use against you."

"So why would you do something so stupid if you're such a smart guy?" Brass asked.

Roy smiled, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms in front of him. "You see, gentlemen," he started. "While my little plan seems…stupid, to you, it's ingenious to me." He laughed; the sound was so vile and repulsive it made Grissom, Brass, and Warrick want to cut their ears off. They couldn't even begin to imagine how Sara lived through this. "The bitch will never forget my face," Roy smiled.


That was it. Warrick lost it.

Before Brass or Grissom even had time to comprehend what was happening, it was too late. Warrick had thrown the door open connecting the interrogation room to the observation room and he was charging at the suspect like a raging bull. The suspect was even caught off-guard as Warrick charged straight at him and picked him up by his shirt sleeves, slamming him against the wall.

"You think this is amusing, you son of a bitch?" Warrick hissed. "Huh? You think that's amusing?" he yelled. "She was defenseless! She told you to stop, you bastard! But I suppose that's not what you wanted to hear, was it?" Warrick whispered harshly. "Because you're not man enough to get some real action; instead you have to go out and rape helpless women!"

Roy just started laughing. "How was I supposed to know it would be so easy? She was with the law; I expected more of a fight. I was disappointed," he frowned, but his smirk slowly returned. "Although she was feisty."

Warrick growled as he was about to throw a punch at the man. Grissom quickly retrained him (even though he really didn't want to, he knew Warrick's outburst may hurt the case). "Warrick, calm down!" he yelled to him.

"Would you like to know why I bound her wrists?" Roy asked, the question coming out of nowhere. The room fell silent and Warrick stopped struggling against Grissom as his eyes widened. "I take that as a yes," Roy said. "Well…I—"

Before Roy had a chance to answer, Warrick already knew. He had never really pondered it in his mind before now, but…now that he did…he figured it out. And it just made him even more sickened.

"You…wanted her to know that…she was helpless," Warrick whispered. "That…she was…trapped…" Helpless, trapped—bound. Warrick couldn't even begin to imagine how that must've felt. She must've felt so worthless…

"Bingo," Roy said with a smile. "You see, I…didn't exactly want her to forget about me too quickly," Roy said. "Do you think I've etched the memory in her mind deep enough?"

Grissom tightened his hold on Warrick's arms, afraid that he was going to try and go at the suspect again. He was quite surprised, however, when Warrick turned around and headed toward the door. Before his fingers curled around the handle, Warrick stopped, his back still turned to the suspect. "She's not bound," he said calmly. "And she never was," he added. "I can't say the same for you, though," he finished, throwing the door open and walking out of the room.

Brass and Grissom found their voices and strength again as they arrested Roy and read him his rights.

Warrick headed down the hallway, his eyes glued in front of him. They had the guy…and Warrick had kept his promise to Sara.

But…Warrick knew that the nightmare wasn't completely over for Sara. He hated to admit it…but Roy was right- he had etched the memory of the entire ordeal pretty deep into Sara's mind. She would still have nightmares…and she would still be afraid, Warrick knew. But she was never going to have to go through her hardships alone again. He was always going to be there for her.

Warrick reached into his pocket and took out Sara's black chess piece. He smiled down at it as he tightened his hold around it.

He had done it.

Sara was free.

She was no longer going to be brought down by the shackles of this…monster.

She was free to smile again, free to laugh again. She no longer had to live her life in fear. And she would never, ever, be alone again.

She was no longer bound.

She was unbound.

No borders.

No fences.

No walls.

No borders.

No fences…


Just as Warrick was about to walk outside, the doors to the station opened up and Warrick saw the last person he would have expected to see at that moment.

It was Sara.

"S-Sara…?" Warrick asked, eyes widening.

Sara ran over to him- no longer plaid in the thin white hospital gown from before- and threw her arms around his neck as tight as she could.

"Hey…it's okay…" Warrick told her, wrapping his arms around her back when he noticed her crying. "We got him, Sara…it's all over now…"

Sara just started laughing, sniffling. "I know…Brass called the hospital and had an officer bring me down," she told him. "Thanks, Warrick," she smiled, looking up at him.

"No problem, Sara," Warrick smiled. The space between them quickly closed and they kissed.


The sound of Greg Sander's voice echoed through the hallways, interrupting the tender moment the two were having.

"Greg!" then came Catherine's voice. "You ruined it!" Soon Nick had popped out from his hiding place behind a wall and Brass and Grissom were walking down the hallway.

"What's…going on?" Warrick asked, blinking as he and Sara exchanged glances.

"Uh…surprise!" Nick said, holding up two bottles of champagne.

"Yeah, and uh…sorry!" Greg grinned. Catherine slapped him in the back of the head.

Warrick and Sara both just started laughing as they walked over to the group.

"So are we having these drinks or not?" Catherine asked. "Because I think I speak for everyone when I say I sure as hell could use one."

Everyone nodded and headed into the break room.

"Can you have alcohol at PD?" Nick asked with a laugh.

"Yes, but that's our little secret!" an officer inside said.

"I want first dibs!" Greg said, running inside and trying to pry a bottle from Nick's hands.

Nick just laughed. "Hold on Greg, I think Warrick and Sara should get the first glasses."

"I agree!" Catherine said.

Warrick and Sara just laughed as Greg whined.

No borders.

No fences.

No walls.


No borders.

No fences…


The End