Disclaimer: I do not own or make money off of CSI. All characters are property of CBS and its affiliates.

A.N. – Forgive my spelling mistakes as well as my grammar. Also for some reason I can't seem my tenses the same…so I apologize a head of time.

OVER EXPOSED: Chapter One

Groaning, Sara Sidle managed to knock the offending noise off her bedside table. The cell phone landed with a sickening thwack, ending its annoying song. With a bit of struggle the brunette forced her eyes open, blinking against the pounding in her head. Not for the first time she had fleeting thoughts of never consuming alcohol in such large quantities and possibly never again. After a moment her senses seemed to return reminding her why she was awake in the first place. Listlessly the CSI managed to roll unceremoniously out of bed and into the hard floor below, causing a sharp pain to resonate through her hip.

"Fuck…" Rubbing the rapidly swelling bruise with one hand the other searched for her wayward phone. Muttering obscenities as she managed to pull the mobile open and find that once again she was being called in on her day off. In the past she would have been all to happy to have an excuse to go to work, if nothing more than the fact that it kept her mind off of her actual life. Today, however, the young CSI wanted nothing more to never see the crime lab again.

It had been a week since the explosion in the lab, which was reason enough to avoid work, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. Her real problem was Gil Grissom, or as she liked to think of him, her tormentor. Some how the "bugman" had managed to worm his way in to her heart and consume it with no regard to the pain it caused. It's bad enough to be turned down for the "dinner" she asked him to, but to ignore her completely since the episode was nothing short of a twist of the proverbial knife in her heart.

She wasn't sure what she expected when she asked him out, it most defiantly was not his reference to "this"; of course she assumed he would say "yes". You don't ask someone out expecting a "no", but at least a straight out "no" would have been better than what occurred. At the very least she was expecting him to be professional about the situation, this was Gil Grissom after all and nothing deterred him from his work, and the importance of the job. A job that Sara happened to work as well, although you wouldn't know she worked with him at the moment. Somehow he had managed to avoid her at every turn, not that she was seeking him out mind you, she did have a bit of pride left in her. Not much, but enough to want to avoid embarrassment.

A shrill ring brought her out of her thoughts. "Sidle." She flipped the phone open.

"Sara, its Catherine…" as if she didn't recognize the voice on the other end. "…listen we have a pretty big crime scene out here, at least 4 D.B.s so far and quite a few animal carcasses thus far. We're going to need the entire team on this, hate to do this…" Sara rolled her eyes. "…but we need you to come in, the guys are already here."

"Yeah, okay, just give me a second to get dressed." Sara scribbled the address down and hung up. Sighing, she managed to down a couple Tylenol to help ease her head and rolling stomach. Snatching her keys she locked up and made her way to the scene.

"She coming?"

"Of course she is Gil, the woman lives for work. I'm surprised she isn't already here, no doubt she heard it on the scanner." Catherine rolled her eyes. "I don't understand why you didn't call her."

"I'm a bit busy." Grissom gestured toward the decomposing body and the plethora of maggots and bugs trying to consume it.

Glaring at the older CSI, she jerked her kit up. "I'm sure that's the only reason." She snapped. The blonde knew it was something more than that, she wasn't sure what, but she and the rest of the nightshift could tell that the two CSI's couldn't stand to be in the same room together. It was putting quite a strain on the rest of the team; and it was beginning to be a bit too uncomfortable for her. Catherine assumed it was something Sara had done; Grissom and she had been friends for years, so she had of course noticed the difference in his interactions with the young CSI from San Francisco right away. The brunette just seemed to have an effect on Grissom, more than she liked to admit. At first it seemed harmless, but now the relationship was strained at best, and it was more likely to be the actions of Sara and her emotions than of Gil. Sighing she shook her head and started processing her own D.B.

Jim Brass approached the working CSI's. Gil and Catherine where processing the back of the house and Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes are processing the front of the house, clearing his throat he asked, "Is it human?"

Warrick sighed and rubbed his forearm across his head. "Yeah."

"So the perp decided to paint the room in blood." Brass glanced down at the crimson stained paint roller before shifting his eyes to the crusty brown walls.

"Looks like." Nick bagged a brush. "What I don't understand is how a person can do something like this…I mean killing someone is one thing, but to decorate your house…"

"I know, it's like something out of a horror flick." Warrick interrupted.

The abandoned house was on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't necessarily falling apart on the outside, although the dead dry grass and old cars in the yard did make it an eyesore. Still the home itself had obviously been loved at some point in time, the little repairs and upkeep was signs that at some point someone cared enough to not let it wither away in the desert heat. It was pure chance that the crime scene was stumbled upon in the first place. A wayward motorist had a blow out and was changing his tire when the putrid smell caught him off guard. At first he ignored it thinking it a dead animal carcass, which it was along with at least four human corpses, until a shift in the wind caused him to vomit and prompted him to call for help.

"So where am I needed?" Sara stood in the doorway kit in hand.

"Hey girl!" Nick smiled. "I was surprised you weren't the first one here."

"It's my night off." Sara snapped a bit harsher than intended, after all she did have a hang over.

"Never stopped you before." He smirked as she rolled her eyes.

"Grissom and Catherine have the back and we have the front, so I guess that leaves you with the perimeter." Warrick pointed out.

"Sure." She re-gripped her kit and stepped back out into the cool night air. Not that it brought her any relief of the stifling house, the smell of decomposition was as strong outside as it was in. She would have to pick up some lemons on her way home. Placing her kit down, Sara nodded to a uniformed officer and tugged on a pair of gloves. Retrieving her flashlight, she began processing the outside. It took about an hour to finally reach the back of the house.

The backyard held two rusted out vehicles, evidently from the 70's. Thus far she had found little evidence outside of the house, but had stumbled across a set of footprints that appeared to be leading away from the house and toward the chain link fence that separated the home from the desert. Following the steps around the first rusted car, she looked up in time to see a shovel collide heavily against her head. Without even a whimper in protest her world became dark.

Pain. It was the first think that she became aware of. Her head was pounding and black spots dancing before her eyes. Moaning she tried to move her hand to wipe at the warm stickiness on her face, when she became aware of a heaviness on top of her and the fact that her hands are being pinned above her head. Blinkingly she tried to focus her eyes.

"Rise and shine sweetheart."

Panic started to seep in and she realized that a man was on top of her, his putrid breath inches from her ear. How had she not noticed that before; than again how had she not noticed the cloth stuffed in her mouth stifling her breathing. Wide eyed and as awake as adrenaline would allow someone with a concussion, she noticed she had been dragged away from the house and outside of its yard.

"Couldn't have them finding you too fast sweetheart." The man whispered before he ran his tongue across her jaw.

Shuddering, Sara began struggling against her captor. Her face turning away from his, she managed to see the lights from the house in the distance. Kicking out with her legs, and forcing her knee into his groin, she tried pushing him off long enough to make a run for it; but after a few moments of struggling she felt exhausted and her consciousness was slipping.

"Now…now…sweetheart, stay awake for me. I want you to feel every bit of this." His words had the desired effect, because once again she began to struggle against him. He began ripping her shirt open with one hand all the while keeping her wrists painfully pinned with his other.

She cried out against the cloth when she felt him bite down on her breasts hard enough to draw blood. She began struggling harder against him, forcing all of her energy into trying to buck him off. Sara quickly realized that it was only causing him to become more aroused, when she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. While still biting at her chest, his hand began to unbutton her pants and roughly tugging them off her hips. Without warning she felt his hand thrusting in her dry channel, tearing her. Sara bent by her scream, her breathing ragged, she shut her eyes tightly.

"I need a little lubricant sweetheart…wouldn't want to chafe." He stated as he brought his bloody hand up and unzipped his own pants. Using her blood he slicked himself up and shoved into her.

Sara groaned out in pain and shock, some how pulling one of her wrist free she weakly attempted to push at his chest. Startled, her rapist punched her in the head a couple times, before recapturing her wrist. Against her dizziness she heard a crack and felt her wrist go numb, fleetingly the thought drifted in that it was likely broken and would hinder her on the field.

"You're so tight sweetheart…so tight." He whispered against her ear as he came inside her, before again licking the side of her face. She tried to move her face away but it resulted in her feeling nauseous and before she could stop it she was sick all over herself and him.

"You fucking whore!" He grimaced as he punched at her head again and rolled off of her. Swiping the vomit off his face he kicked her a few times in the ribs and abdomen, causing a few groans of protest and the sound of shattering ribs. Feeling quite sick himself, he brought his foot down once more on her head, and Sara saw no more.

"You guys done up here?" Catherine motioned to the two CSI's.

"Yeah, we are just finishing up." Nick stowed the rest of his kit. "You and Grissom need any help back there?"

"No we got it." Catherine motioned toward her own packed kit.

"So I guess its back to the lab."

"Sara should be done with the perimeter by now." Warrick pointed out. "I'll go see if she needs any help." Gathering the rest of the evidence he went outside to store it in the back of his Tahoe. "Hey Brass, you seen Sara?"

The older man turned away from the uniform. "Last time I saw her she was making her way out back." Brass nodded toward the yard. "You guys finished? "

"We have wrapped up the interior. I'm going to go see if Sara needs some help." Warrick grabbed his kit and made his way to the back of the house. The desert sun was beginning to raise shedding some much needed light and reminding him that it would most likely be another double for the nightshift. He only hoped that Sara had managed to finish up out back, because he was eager to get the smell of decomposition off of him. Rounding the house he was worried when he didn't spot the CSI right off. Shrugging he walked toward the first vehicle.

"Sara." He called out for her as he rounded the vehicle. He spotted her open kit on the ground along with a few bags of evidence and her lit flashlight. Searching the ground he saw a small puddle of blood under a old rusted and stained shovel. Panicked he called louder. "Sara!?!"

His scream brought Brass running into the back yard followed closely by the uniform as well as a panicked looking Nick.

"Sara!?!" He screamed again crossing the yard to look behind the second rusted out vehicle. He saw no signs of her besides the obvious struggle at the first vehicle.

The commotion had brought out the rest of the nightshift, and they gathered around Sara's kit and the first vehicle. Brass turned to the uniform.

"Did you clear the yard?" He bellowed.

"I swept it…" The young officer stammered.

"What about the vehicles?"

"I swept it…"

"Call for back up and an ambulance." He shoved the kid toward the front and turned to the pale and shocked CSI's. "No car has come and gone, she's can't be far."

Grissom immediately began to rein in his panic. Now was not the time to let emotions get in the way, he needed to be clear headed and in charge. "Follow the evidence. There must be a trail of blood."

The CSI's where grateful the sun had come up, making their search that much easier. The trail was short but it led out of the yard and toward the flat desert. Squinting against the sun, the five of them spotted a huddled shape on the ground a 100 yards or so away. Taking off as one, they raced toward the mass all of them sending their own prayers up.

Nick's speed pushed him ahead and he arrived at the battered body first. Dropping to his knees in shock, tears already falling he looked down at the bloody body. "Sara…" he choked out.

Sara's body was curled slightly on her right side. Her pants and torn underwear held onto her feet by her boots, covered in blood and dirt. Her torso bruised and battered had a few remnants of her torn shirt as well as unmistakable vomit and blood. Her right eye stared fixed and blank ahead; her left eye swollen shut. He face was covered in blood and vomit as well as her matted hair. Nick felt sick.

"Oh God…" Catherine covered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes. "Is she…"

Cautiously, Warrick dropped to his knees and grasped her obviously broken right wrist. It felt so cold, and lifeless. Holding his breath he searched for a pulse after a moment of not finding one, his panic set in. Jerking his hand from Sara's wrist her thrust it toward her neck, hoping to find a pulse.

The quick motion of Warrick's arm caused a reaction from the huddled form. Although Sara's eyes remained blank her body shifted and curled tightly into its self.

"Oh my God…" Warrick fell back on his hands and scrambled to his feet. "Where is the EMT's?

"Sara?" Grissom approached the injured woman. Sara once again looked as if she was dead; her eye still blank and fixed, her body unmoving. "Sara can you hear me?"

No reaction.

Grissom warily moved his hand toward her, wanting to check her pulse and insure that she was truly alive. "I'm just going to check you pulse." He voice was soothing as he continued moving his hand toward her neck, Sara again reacted. Her body curled in impossibly tighter and she drew her knees up to her chin, effectively hiding her neck.

"Stop Grissom." Catherine pulled the supervisor back. "You're scaring her."

Grissom stood. "What is the ETA on the medics?"

"Ten minutes at the most." Brass stood off to the side. He couldn't look at the strong woman he had come to know so exposed and injured. "I'll bring them here." He took off back toward the house.

Catherine glanced at the still figure below her. "Guys back up…I'm going to try." Swallowing the bile in her throat, and putting on her professional façade, the blonde dropped down slowly next to her injured friend. "Sara…" She spoke softly. "I need you to let us see where you are hurt." She tried to make her voice as soothingly and steady as possible. Sara continued to appear dead and blank. "I'm just going to touch your hand."

Sara's left hand and arm was falling behind her curled back. Her shoulder was obviously dislocated and it wouldn't do any good to check the pulse there. Her right hand was sticking out below her huddled knees, against the rough ground. It was the one Warrick had checked before. Slowly Catherine brushed her hand against Sara's fingers. Holding her breath and receiving no reaction, she managed to grasp the wrist to check for a pulse. Letting out her breath she was relieved to find a steady pulse, although much slower than she would have liked. "Sara, I'm going to brush your hair out of your face, so I can see your injuries…okay?" Receiving no response, Catherine pushed the offending hair away from Sara's face, barely brushing the bruised and bloody cheek. Sara moaned in protest, her body began shake. Fearful of shock setting in, Catherine tried to sooth the shaking form with her voice. Surprised when the tremors turned into a full blown seizure and Sara's blank eye rolled back into her head, Catherine called out. "Help me!"

"Uncurl her Nick!" Grissom yelled as he turned her to her back and held her head, trying to keep her from swallowing her tongue. His instincts took over, his body poised to turn her face to keep her from also chocking on her vomit. Sara's naked body continued to jerk and shake forcing vomit up and out.

Within moments the EMT's arrived and began to administer urgent care. The CSI's stepped back as they watched their friend fight for her life. Sara was rushed into the waiting ambulance and was gone before any of them had thought to ride with her.