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Whisper Something Fragile: Chapter Four

Grissom and Warrick waited as Brass opened up the front door to Sara's apartment- a 60s building which claimed to have character. Both had been there before on various occasions- to pick Sara up for an early morning call, to give her paper work or talk over evidence- however never socially.

But this wasn't right. Going through her things without her knowledge or permission- this was not something you did to a friend. The three of them remained silent as none of them could bring themselves to verbalise all the things that were wrong with the situation.

Visiting a victim's home gave them an insight into how the person lived, their routines, things that could have made them targets. There were, however, those situations where there were no explanations to why a particular person was chosen over another. Random acts of violence. No matter how many years they had worked this job those were the cases they found hardest to digest, the convictions that simply weren't enough because each one of those cases chipped away at their little remaining faith in humanity.

Brass finally managed to push the door open revealing a small but neat flat. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary as they looked around the living room. Forensics journals were neatly piled up on the coffee table, Sara's gun and holster alongside them. The kitchen showed signs of takeout and Captain Morgan's being Sara's primary diet which in their line of work was not rare. A drink to take of the edge after a day being surrounded by dead bodies was not something they could judge her for because they'd all been there.

"Grissom..." Brass called from another room, the way his voice wavered told them that there was something very wrong. Grissom and Warrick approached Brass who was standing in front of a door that was cracked open revealing what appeared to be a bedroom. He looked at them with a grim expression. "I warn you...it's not pretty."

They stepped through the door into what appeared to be a completely different world from the rest of the flat. The almost obsessive tidiness had disappeared into chaos. The furniture was no longer in the right place, the curtains looked like they had been dragged from the rail, the content of the cupboards and drawers scattered across the floor.

"Think someone was looking for something?" Warrick thought out loud taking a look around he noted there didn't seem to be any method to the way the room had been tossed.

"Why only look in here? Why not look in the rest of place?" Grissom asked attempting to figure out where to start.

"He knew what he was looking for? Where it was?" Warrick suggested taking one look around. Grissom gave a nod out of desperation taking another slow glance around.

Grissom attempted to silence the guilty thoughts that were running through his mind as he slowly moved each object on his way to the floor. He felt responsible- he'd pushed her away. That's why she was in that bar. That's why she was drowning her sorrows. He thought of the last conversation he'd had with her- she wanted to try and have a normal, functioning relationship with him but he'd spoken about complications and boundaries. He'd treated her the way he had always done. He'd spoken to her as if she were just anyone else rather than a woman that he was truly in love with. They had tried, to hide what they had, keep what they had to the confides of his house or hers but she wanted more, she needed more and he couldn't blame her. But he just couldn't.

Grissom glanced up at Warrick who was shining the UV light on Sara's bed sheets. From the pain expression that shadowed over his features it was clear that they were not looking at their primary crime scene.

"Griss, I haven't gotten anything..." He sighed. Taking a deep breath he attempted to keep calm but he could feel anger bubbling up inside him. He attempted to imagine the state Sara was in at the moment and it only added to his need to hit something or someone. It wasn't fair. That was the one thing that always got Warrick about this job- it was never fair the sort of things that people had to live with knowing that all that they had to comfort them was the fact that the person who did it was behind bars. But what about the scars that never went away, for the people that couldn't put the things that had happened to them behind them. What about the people that had taken drastic action by themselves to make the pain just stop?

Grissom opened up a drawer in the night stand case files came into view. A part of him had expected it- Sara was always one to take her work home. It was something that had worried him when she first started working for him. But it had eventually become something he admired. He lifted one out being careful that the content did not spill out and flicked through the file. He frowned slightly as he looked through.

"Warrick...most of the file is missing..." Grissom placed it aside and lifted another one out of the drawer and found that same. "And this one...they all have one suspect...most of these are dated between 1996 and 1999."

"Think Sara was trying to reopen an old case?" Warrick peered over Grissom's shoulder at the post-it notes that Sara had stuck on the covers and the insides of the files.

To a reader they appeared to make no sense but they were sure to Sara the scribbles probably contained some of her most useful and important evidence.

xxx

"Catherine!" Mia shouted from the DNA lab as Catherine Willows walked past. She stepped inside of the lab hoping that there had been a break in the case. The case. It was wrong to be referring to Sara as a case.

"I got a hit, the semen belongs to a Mike Holloway- he was arrested for sexual assault in San Francisco, served his time...was released a week ago." Mia handed over the RAP sheet she had printed off.

"That's good...we have our suspect." Catherine turned to walk away but Mia stopped her again.

"Catherine...it was a case Sara worked...she pushed for a tougher sentence, attempted to get him on a few other unsolved rape cases...but the judge claimed there wasn't sufficient evidence..."

"You think this guy's got a grudge?" Catherine asked raising an eyebrow to which Mia simply shrugged her shoulders.

"I can't say...but...he got a five year sentence...that's a long time to think about who put you there..."