Disclaimer: 'CSI' and its characters are the property of CBS and Alliance/Alantis Networks, produces by Jerry Bruckheimer. I'm writing this story for entertainment purpose only. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: I wrote this story after watching the episode 'Sounds of Silence'. Sara is my favorite character and she has this unique interaction with Grissom. That's why I wrote this story about her, about her thoughts and feelings. I hope you'll like it!

English is not my native/first language. If you find an annoying writing error in this story, please email me (instead of mentioning it a review) and I will correct it immediately. Thank you!


By Karin

"Exactly. Who knows anything about that guy?"

He is right. Although I hate to admit it, Warrick is right. I would never tell him though – he would probably use it against me one time, sooner or later – but I can't deny that he made a point back then.

I don't know Grissom. No one does. It's as simple as that, and yet it's also that difficult. This case made that very clear to me. I was surprised…No, that's not the right word for it. I was stunned when I saw Grissom using sign language. I had no idea he knew sign language. Just like I have no idea how he learned it. Maybe one of his relatives is deaf. Maybe one of his friends. I have no clue whatsoever. I can only guess.

"So, er, are you gonna tell us how you learned to sign?"

I did not want to delve into his past. I was genuinely interested, because I got this feeling that the sign language was important to him. I should have seen that it was a delicate subject. But, like usually, I couldn't keep my big mouth.


Just a simple 'no'. No explanation why he didn't want to tell me, just 'no'. He might just as well have said: "That is none of your business, stay out of my life." Because the hint was clear. He did not want me to know.

And that night I realized that there was a lot more I didn't know about Grissom. He likes to be a mystery. He shies away from social contact, does not want anyone to come close and learn more about his personal life. He pushes people away. Maybe he doesn't realize that by pushing me away, he hurts me. I want to know him. I want to know his hopes, his dreams, what scares him, where he grew up, what his childhood was like. And what goes on in his mind when he can't sleep, and tosses and turns in his bed.

The fact that he doesn't let me, is what hurts me. He shuts me out of his life. I feel like an outsider, looking from behind a window to someone's life. I can see certain things, but not everything and I can't be a part of it. I'm hold back by the glass. I can't reach him, and he does no attempt to open the door and let me in. When I asked Grissom to tell me how he learned sign language, there was this opportunity for him to open it. But again, he turned the key and locked the door.

The only consulting thought is that I'm not alone in this. Every one of us only knows a part of him. A habit, a saying, an event in his past. Crumbs, nothing more, nothing less. Grissom only gives us what he wants us to know, what he wants to reveal. Maybe if we'd put all those pieces together, we would get far, but we would never solve the entire puzzle. Just a part of it. Grissom will never let go of that last piece, that final piece that will make us understand him, that will show the real him.

Grissom keeps that part to himself, just like we all keep things to ourselves. I did when we had the Jane Doe and Kaye Shelton cases. Such strong emotions were running through me when I saw the bruises and the old fractures on Kaye's body. It brought the past a little too close to home and I had a rough time. I kept on hearing her voice crying out for help, pleading me to save her. I heard it everywhere. In the lab, under the shower, in the supermarket and in bed.

"You want to sleep with me?"

The look on his face when I asked him to sleep with me, was indescribable. I did not mean anything by it; I just wanted to make him understand that it wasn't just empathy that I felt. It was something deeper, and even if I had slept with him, I still would have heard her voice. It still would have upset me.

That moment I showed Grissom a part of myself. I opened up a little, was honest with him about my fears and insecurities. I needed some understanding, I needed a friend. What was I thinking? Grissom never considers my feelings, never asks me 'why' or tries to understand what's going on inside my mind. No, he told me not to be so emotional. Nothing is personal, no victim is special. That was it.

How can he judge me on being emotional? As if he was so calm when he found that baby. He yelled at people. He even messed up the investigation of someone else. It startled me, and yet at the same time it frustrated me as well. When I talked to him about his behavior, he told me that the baby was special. He acted like he had the right to be emotional, because he had found the baby. Well, I had the right to be emotional as well. The battered woman was special to me.

"It's a homicide. I'm going to get you proof. So write down that homicide in pencil."

And what about Catherine? The death of that 6-year-old girl in the amusement park had affected her too. The way she went after the owner… She was clearly driven by her own emotions. She wanted to see him convicted, she wanted someone to pay for what was done to that girl. Her motive for her crusade was her own daughter Lindsey. The thought that something like that could happen to her daughter was unbearable.

I had my own motives, but no one seemed to notice. Every action has a reason. Some are more obvious than others. Mine aren't that obvious. You will have to dig deep in order to find out what drives me, to see what's behind my wall. The wall that's inside all of us. We keep our secrets there. Events we can't and won't talk about.

I have those secrets as well. I carry them with me, keep them hidden deep inside my heart. Dark, horrible secrets. They gnaw at me, haunt me not only in my sleep, but in broad daylight as well. I can't close my eyes without the images flashing through my mind. Violent images that cause such strong emotions: fear, anger, humiliation, hatred and sorrow.

I wish I could talk about those secrets. Because maybe then people, maybe Grissom, would understand, and I wouldn't be so alone anymore. Alone with the past, a period of my life that I'd rather forget. But I know I can never forget. It's a part of me, interwoven with the present. I realize that I have to deal with the past to have a future. I know, but it's so hard. It's so damn hard.

I have never learned to be open and talk about my problems. Then again there has never been anyone in my life willing to listen. Never someone who cared enough about me to be concerned, to learn more about the real Sara. Not the one who makes fun and puts on a happy face. No, the Sara who has trouble sleeping. The Sara who lies awake every night afraid of closing her eyes, because she knows that by closing her eyes she will relive her past, every horrendous memory in her sleep, in her nightmares. No one knows that Sara, no one knows me.

"What do you do for fun?"

Grissom once told me to get a life. Listening to the scanner and reading crime books did not seem like a life to him. But what does he know of having a life? As if he sets the good example. He's alone just like I am. I don't have anyone in my life. I don't have a boyfriend (God, what would I do with one?), I don't have any friends, I don't have family close-by. I'm alone. And I'm okay with it. I'm quite happy with my life as it is. I don't need someone to worm his way into my life, to turn it upside down. I have enough problems of my own, thank you.

Besides, letting someone into your life means opening up, being vulnerable, and that's the last thing I want to do right now. The very thought scares the hell out of me. I'm afraid that 'being vulnerable' means losing control, being unable to hold back the feelings I've locked up inside me so well. The pain, anger, fear, disappointment in myself and in other people. I know it's bound to come out sooner or later, though I prefer later, and I'm certain that when that day comes, I will break down.

And who will be there for me when that happens? Who wants to listen to my pathetic story about my fucked up life? And even if someone takes the time to listen, will I find the compassion and help that I'm looking for, that I need? Or will that person just turn his back on me just like everyone else has done in the past? Will I be left alone again? My whole life I've felt the rejection, pain and betrayal. I can't bear to go through those same emotions again.

I'm so afraid of getting hurt. And maybe that's exactly why Grissom is so secretive about his personal life. Maybe he's afraid that he will get hurt as well.

But I would never hurt him. I love him.

I hope you enjoyed my story. Please let me know what you think of it. Just remember that this is my first CSI fanfic, so please be kind. I can take criticism, as long as it's serious and well founded. Thanks! - Karin -