(set after Committed)

"Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom."

Bertrand Russell

1.

"Hey."

He pulled the door closed behind him.

Sara Sidle looked up and then turned around.

"Are you a spiritual person?"

He closed the door behind him and Sara shifted her weight.

"Sometimes."

He walked slowly toward her as she stared at him.

"You believe that everything happens for a reason, that bad things are there to teach us a karmic lesson? Y'know, maybe all our problems can be cured by tuning into a higher frequency?"

Sara held the needle behind her back as she inched further away from him, stopping against the desk, and he moved closer.

"There's this one guy I read, he believes that illness, anxiety, and fear…all occur when people are vibrating at ten-thousand cycles a second."

Sara nodded and lunged at him with the needle. He darted from in front of her and she missed him, the needle hitting the floor, and he grabbed her and pulled her to the floor. He held her there and when she elbowed him and tried to move, he brought a sharp, white object to her throat.

"If they could just get up to a hundred-thousand cycles per second they'd be in the realm of sound, light and spirit, and everything'd be just fine, right?" he continued.

"Yeah…"

"You know what I think?"

Grissom walked alongside another man, toward the nurse's station.

"I think I'm just vibrating at the wrong frequency."

Sara struggled against him, her hands grasping his arm around her, and he pressed the object to her throat.

"Don't…"

"It's okay…"

The man with Gil Grissom turned the knob to find it locked.

Grissom's brows furrowed---the door was open only minutes ago---why would Sara lock the door?

He looked through the window and froze.

"Oh dear God…"

Inside the nurse's station Adam began to panic.

"You think I'm smart?" he asked, a mixture of pain and anger in his voice.

"Yeah, uh-huh…" Sara looked up at Grissom, his eyes fixated on the scene in front of him, fear and desperation in his eyes.

"You think I'm right?" Adam continued, and Sara grunted.

Grissom stared at the scene, his eyes unmoving.

"Open the door."

The man turned the key to no avail. "I can't, I don't have the right key!"

"I do…" Sara answered, her panic almost consuming her.

"Just open it," Grissom pleaded, the calmness in his voice frightening, "Please open the door…"

The man turned and ran down the hall, leaving Grissom alone. "Red light!"

"Don't you move a muscle, I will grind you, you bitch!" Adam yelled, pressing the makeshift knife to her now red throat, "You hear me? You do not look at them!"

Sara nodded frantically.

"You keep your eyes on the floor!"

Sara looked at him, her eyes not full of fear, but of anger, and Grissom stared at her desperately. He was frozen, unable to move, afraid to move, and in an instant it happened: in one swift swipe, Adam Trent cut Sara's throat. Blood shot out rapidly as Sara's face became pale as she bled out in front of him. He stood there, helpless and horrified as her body fell limp to the floor.

Grissom stepped away from the window and looked around. He spotted the security guard at the end of the hallway.

"We need help!"

The man took a few steps and looked around.

"Now!" Grissom yelled, and the guard sprinted toward him. He looked through the glass and back to Grissom. "The door's locked…"

"Shoot it."

The guard frowned. "I can't just…"

"Shoot the lock!" Grissom yelled, and the man removed his gun.

"I can't…"

"Shoot or she'll be killed!"

The guard glanced through the glass again and then down the empty hallway.

"Okay, okay," Sara breathed, trying to calm Adam down, "It's okay…"

"You think I'm right?" he asked again, now crying, and Sara nodded. "Yeah, uh-huh…you're right…okay? It's gonna be okay, Adam…"

Adam rested his head on Sara's shoulder and sobbed. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry," he cried, and then turned the knife on himself. The guard shot the lock as Adam cut his own throat, and Grissom grabbed Sara. He jerked her forward and pulled her to her feet, holding her, but she broke away from him and ran down the hall. Grissom stepped back, eyed Adam and the crew of nurses running into the room, and then stared down the hall at Sara.

"Jesus," he whispered, and Sara pounded her fist on the wall.

Sara sipped her coffee in the break room when a breathless Greg entered. "Sara, you okay? I heard what happened and I just wanted to come see if you were all right or if you needed anything or…"

"Greg," Sara interrupted.

He took a breath. "Yeah."

"I'm fine."

Greg nodded. "Uh-huh."

Sara shook her head. "I don't need someone to rescue me, okay?"

"Rescue you from what, Sara?"

Greg turned and Sara looked up as Grissom walked into the room.

She smiled. "Well Greggo here seems to think I need a hero."

Greg rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"And I am."

"And you are," he echoed, "so I'll go work now," he added, glancing at Grissom.

Gil allowed a slight smile to escape him as Greg walked out of the room. He sat down across from Sara and she looked at him.

"What?" he asked finally, and Sara shook her head.

After a long silence she looked at him again.

"Grissom…"

He flipped through a file and answered without looking up. "Yeah?"

"What would you have done if there had been no way to open the door?"

Grissom stopped flipping through the file; she'd caught him off guard. He took his glasses off and massaged the bridge of his nose.

He thought a moment and then sighed. "I don't know."

"I mean, if Adam would've…"

"Sara," Grissom said quickly, cutting her off, "I'm really not prepared to talk about this."

Sara nodded and finished her coffee as she stood up.

"Well uh, I'm gonna get back to work," and she headed out of the break room.

Grissom closed his eyes a minute before putting his glasses back on and getting back to the file in front of him.

Sara stepped into Grissom's office with a paper in hand and a smile on her face.

"Guess who Adam Trent's mother is?"

Grissom looked up just as Nurse McKay stormed into his office.

"This is your fault!" she hissed, and dove for Sara, knocking her into the metal shelf full of Gil's specimens. It came crashing down, taking Sara with it, and Grissom grabbed the woman and called out for Warrick. Warrick took the woman out of the office as Grissom lifted the shelf off of Sara.

He helped her up and saw that she was soaking wet and had cuts all along her face, arms, and hands.

"Are you all right?"

Sara nodded and frowned. "So anyway," she said, ringing her hair, "guess who?"

Grissom nodded. "Yeah."

"Man, this stuff reeks."

"I'm taking you off the case," Grissom said as he took the surgical tape from Sara and taped her hand.

"What? You can't."

He looked at her.

She grimaced. "I'm fine!"

Grissom raised an eyebrow and put the tape down.

Sara shook her head and laughed. "That's uh, that's great, Grissom. Thanks. Maybe I should go tell Greg that I do need someone to rescue me because that's what everyone around here seems to think, right? That I need to be protected constantly?"

"No one thinks that."

"Apparently you do, you're taking me off the case."

"You've been hurt."

"I'm telling you that I can do this."

Grissom looked at her, saw the determination on her face, and sighed.

"Sara, do you remember when you asked what I would have done, had there been no way to open that door?"

Sara nodded and waited for him to continue, but he didn't. Finally, he cleared his throat. "I know you're more than capable of finishing this case," he shrugged, "or any other case." His voice softened, "but I don't want to chance losing you."

Sara grinned. "Because I'm your favorite CSI, right?" She looked at Grissom, expecting a smile, but there wasn't one.

"Something like that."

Her own smile faded as Greg tapped on the window, pointing to a paper, and Grissom stood up.

Greg opened the door and waved his hand in front of his face. "Sara, I never thought I'd say this, but…you stink."

Sara looked at him. "Thank you, Greg."

"No problem," he said, flashing white teeth, and then sprinted back down the hall.

"Good work on the case," Nick commented.

Sara glanced up. "Thanks."

"Goin' home?"

"Yep."

"Well, see ya."

"See ya."

Sara walked down the hallway, past Grissom's office, and didn't bother to glance in. It was the end of the case, the end of shift, and she was tired. She wanted to go home and try to forget this day ever happened. She knew, however, that forgetting wasn't quite so easy.