When Demons Come a Calling
By Kimmi

A/N: I do not have a beta, please excuse my mistakes. 

See chapter 1 for disclaimers and warnings.

Part 8

When Warrick got the call from Brass to grab some help and get over to Sara’s as quickly as he could, this wasn’t what he had expected to find. He had afraid that he would be investigating his friend’s murder, not her abduction and two dead cops.

As they surveyed the carnage in Sara’s front hall Brown wished he had been able to find anyone to come with him besides Greg. The newest CSI not only had had a crush on the brunette from the second she walked into the lab but she was now overseeing his training. With the split of the original night shift they had gotten closer and it was showing on his pale drawn face.

“Hey Greggo, you ok man?” Warrick could see the younger man turning slightly green. He could understand the reaction, he never wanted to step into one of his friends homes again and see something like that.

Greg could only shake his head, fearing that if he opened his mouth the clinching and lurching of his stomach would escalate into a full blown explosion. The spiky haired CSI managed to stumble out without contaminating the scene as his middle gave another violent flip. That was Sara’s apartment. There was blood in Sara’s apartment, blood on Sara’s walls and Sara wasn’t there.

Warrick waited for the younger man to pull himself together after empting his stomach over the rail before he joined him on the landing. “Look we’re going to have to divide and conquer. Go back downstairs and process the car and Corporal Jansen. I’ll work up here.”

Greg looked like he wanted to argue for a moment but one look through the front door quelled it. Warrick didn’t think any less of him for getting sick. It wasn’t everyday that you walked into a friend’s home to see blood spatter covering her deep purple walls and pooling darkly under a dead cop that was supposed to be protecting her. He watched him stagger down the stairs for a second before turning his attention back to the coroner.

“Time of death is approximately two hours ago. Officer Hankins’ throat was cut with enough force to nearly decapitate him. TOD is the same for Corporal Jansen but his neck was broken.” Doc Robbins informed them quietly, it just didn’t feel right to speak louder. When Brass had requested that he personally come to pronounce and collect the bodies he had assumed it was because they were police officers. It wasn’t until he had arrived that he learned the whole terrible truth.

“No sign of forced entry or a struggle inside the apartment. It doesn’t look like the action got any farther than the front door.” Brass spoke just as softly as the coroner had. He had been trying to control the fear and anger that had welled up in him the moment he had arrived and found the officer dead downstairs. He had run up the three flights of stairs, heart in his throat, to find Sara gone and a bloody mess inside her home. He hadn’t thought it could get any worse until his phone call to Grissom. Now both women were missing and presumably in the hands of a psychotic rapist murderer. Of course he had opted not to tell Warrick and Greg about Catherine, he wanted their full attention on this crime scene.

Sara’s small hallway didn’t leave much room to maneuver but Warrick squeezed himself in beside the other two men. “There’s blood on the outside of the door but none on the doorstep. The only blood on the landing are the footprints from the suspect and Sara. It looks like he was practically dragging her out of there. See the way the right foot is smeared. I’d say Hankins was inside, with the door open when his throat was cut and then Thomas forced her out.” He started snapping pictures wanting to get the scene processed as quickly as possible. He would be glad to get away from the nightmarish images running through his head the longer he had to look at the blood on Sara’s walls. He just didn’t know how he was going to break the news to the rest of the team.

In the parking lot Greg was processing the car on autopilot. Sara had always been there for him, always had his back even when he was annoying the hell out of her. She would drop everything to help someone and he just couldn’t believe that when she really needed him, he hadn’t been there. He had let her down.

Sara had become more to him than just a friend, more than just a schoolboy crush. She was him mentor. The brunette had taken him under her wing to teach him the tools of the trade. She watched over him but allowed him room to try on his own before correcting him. He was sure that she would have gotten tired of answering his endless questions after a week or two but she was still right there with a ready answer and a grin on her face.

The only thing that was holding Greg together at this point was the fact that they weren’t photographing her dead body. They still had a chance to get her back. He just wouldn’t let himself think about what shape she might be in when they did.

Catherine awoke to a high school marching band in her head. She was in a small room with cold gray concrete walls, no windows and only a bare bulb for light. It took her a minute to figure out how she had come to be there. She had been walking toward the deli, had just passed a car parked on the side of the road, a blinding flash of pain and then nothing. She never saw who or what had hit her but she knew she must have been struck hard.

Trying to bring her hands up to inspect the damage Cath was stopped by the restraints binding her wrists to the small cot she was lying on. Terror shot through her like a bullet. The brunette had warned her, insisted she and Linds have protection. Oh god Lindsey! Was her daughter all right? Was she here? What about Sara? Had he gotten to her too? Had anyone missed her yet? How long had she been unconscious?

Her breath was coming fast and hard and her heart slamming was into her chest like a jackhammer. Catherine knew she was panicking. She was beginning to hyperventilate. She closed her eyes trying desperately to calm down. It wouldn’t do her any good to pass out. She had just managed to slow her breathing when the door creaked open, making her gasp as she got her first look at her captor.

She shouldn’t have been surprised but she was. The man looked normal. About six feet tall with dark brown hair and rugged good looks but his eyes set him apart. They were so cold and shining with what she could only think was madness that Catherine couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through her body. The brown orbs were so dark they were almost black, soulless, and they were staring at her, through her.

Michael smiled at his prize. She was perfect. She would be the linchpin of his plan, the ultimate pawn. He was going to enjoy this very much.

Catherine recoiled as the man reached out and caressed her cheek. She had to swallow hard to keep the bile down. She had never been this frightened in all her life, not when she was dancing and one of the perverts got a little rough and not even when she had been attacked at a crime scene. This time she was on her own, there was no help in the next room or outside the door, she was alone.

“The fear in your eyes is intoxicating; I could drink it like a fine wine.” Michael grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him when she would have turned away. “You have a beautiful little girl. She’s going to be quite the heartbreaker one day I dare say just like her mother.” He let his hand trail down her neck, stopping just before the swell of her breast before jerking his hand away. She was not to be his; she was a tool, a thing to be used to get what he really wanted.

“If you touch a hair on her head I will kill you.” She should have listened to Sara; she should have sent the officer to her house. Oh god please let her little girl be ok. His laughter sent new chills running through her; she had never heard anything so evil.

“As much as I am loving this I have to tell you that she is much too young for my tastes. She’s also a little too blonde as I’m sure you know I prefer brunettes. You now, hmmm, I could almost change my mind for you.” It was the truth, she was an extremely attractive woman and the fire in her eyes made him want to break her but that would ruin his plans. He had spent to long making sure it would be perfect to mess up now. He only had to wait a little longer.

Catherine hadn’t prayed since the night she had pulled Lindsey out of that half submerged car in the pouring rain. She was praying now.

Part 9

Sara was kicking herself. How fucking stupid could she be? Sure she had checked the peep hole in the door. Recognizing the cop Brass had sent home with her she didn’t even think twice about opening the door. If she just hadn’t had that forth beer or had noticed the look of fear in the officer’s eyes. If she had fought back harder, forget the fact he had the uniform’s gun. If she had just taken her own gun with her to the door. If if if. She hadn’t and now there was no going back.

The second she had opened the door Thomas had appeared from behind the cop and kicked her. It force of the blow had sent Sara flying backward, her head impacting the floor hard. She had remained conscious although she wished she hadn’t. The second they were in the door Michael had slit the man’s throat. She didn’t even know his name because she had been to upset to even bother to ask. Though she doubted she would ever forget the look on his face as he grabbed his neck, trying to keep his life from spraying all over her walls. It was sure to haunt her dreams for years to come, providing she survived.

Sara was just glad she had insisted that Catherine take a uniform with her. The last thing she needed was more guilt over getting someone else hurt or killed, especially the blonde. It wasn’t just that fact that she had meant what she said about caring about her. It also had a lot to do with the fact that she had a child, a daughter that no longer had a father. She still felt incredibly guilty about not being able to find Eddie’s murderer but if that little girl was made an orphan because of her… there was no way she would be able to live with her self.

The thought entered her mind again even though she tried to keep it out that she probably wouldn’t live long enough to find out much less feel guilty. She was strapped to a bed in a cold little room with no windows and no way out. The single door was bolted from the outside, she had seen the heavy bar when he had dragged her to a stop and opened it.

What she hadn’t figured out yet was why he hadn’t even touched her yet. He had left her alone in her tiny cell for what had to be hours. Even before he left there hadn’t been anything more that a pat on the head. He had been almost gentle, reverent even. It scared her. She had expected to be dragged into her bedroom, raped and murdered. This strange turn of events had thrown her and left her completely unbalanced, she didn’t know what to expect next.

Sara jumped as much as her bonds would allow as the thick metal door was thrown open to revel Thomas. She felt her heart speed up at the insane glint in his dark eyes as he slowly came toward her. This was it. Now she was going to be raped and killed. He had brought her here just so he could take his time. Well even with her hands tied she wasn’t going to go quietly

Michael gazed down at Sara. He could see the fear in her eyes but there was a core of iron there as well. She was glaring back at him, challenging him despite her fear. He knew that once she was completely his they would be unstoppable.

Sara held her breath as Thomas sat down on the tiny cot next to her, hands in his lap. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since he had dragged her out her front door. She had expected him to rant and rave, to tell her in detail what he was going to do, but he had been quite thus far. His silence only made her that much more frightened of him.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long Sara but I had to pick up a very important package.” He reached out and ran his hand through her hair, fanning it out on the thin dirty pillow. He chose to ignore the way she recoiled from his touch, she would learn. “You have questions. I can see them in those beautifully expressive eyes of yours.”

Sara did indeed have questions but she was loath to ask them lest they provoke him. She wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

He waited for a minute until it was obvious that she wouldn’t speak. She was the strong silent type, so dark and enigmatic; it was one of the first things that had drawn him to her. “You are wondering why you are still alive, why you are untouched. If I had escaped from prison five years ago you would be dead but I understand so much better now. It took me many years to figure it out why you were allowed to live.

It came to me one night in a dream, a vision. I was never meant to kill you I was meant to help you realize your full potential. You see we’re the same you and me. We are two sides of the same coin. You just need a little push in the right direction. I started you on the path and now it’s time for you to complete your journey.”

“The same?” Sara was too surprised and repulsed to keep her tongue. “You’re a murderer and a rapist. I am nothing like you; I put people like you away.”

“I know that you say that now but trust me, by the time I’m finished you will not only be like me, you will be me my dear Sara. I grew up in a house like yours. Almost a day didn’t go by when I didn’t feel my father’s hatred, usually in the form of his fists beating me black and blue. I had six broken bones before I even started kindergarten. I often went hungry because he told me I didn’t deserve food. Of course my mother was no better. She would just watch as he hit me. But then he killed my mother, beat her to death. She was weak, unlike your mother. Do you remember what the knife looked like as she plunged it into him over and over? Do you remember the way the blood looked on the walls and on your clothes? Do you remember how it smelled?” Thomas asked her eagerly. All his information was second hand, he wanted to hear it directly from her, every little detail. He wanted to absorb it, make it part of himself, just like he wanted to do with her.

“How do you know about my parents?” Sara’s voice sounded small to her ears as she recalled her question to Grissom the night she got suspended. ‘Do you think there’s a murder gene?’ He had of course assured her that there wasn’t but here was this monster telling her that they had the same upbringing. She shook her head vehemently trying to deny that they were anything alike. They couldn’t be.

Michael pushed a lock of stray hair out of her face. He knew she hated it when it fell into her eyes. “I followed you for much longer than the others you know. You were the first to get my attention but I saved you for last because you intrigued me. You tried so hard to fit in, to be just like the rest of the sheep but you stood out like a cut diamond surrounded by dirt.

I broke into the Registrar’s office and made a copy of your file, found out where you were from. I visited your hometown, talked to people, went to the library and dug up old newspaper articles. I managed to get a copy of the trial transcript from the Modesto Courthouse and then I went to see your mother.” He could see the disbelief in her eyes. He didn’t blame her. She was only beginning to find out just how important to him she was, how special she had been to him even before he knew why. “She was still quite angry at you and very very bitter. She really didn’t have nice things to say. She talked about you the way my mother used to talk about me.”

It was surreal. He was talking as if they were having a leisurely conversation about the weather or the next big blockbuster coming out. It was hard for Sara to comprehend just how much this man knew about her, the lengths he had gone through. She didn’t know what to say or even if there was anything to say. How could someone she had never even seen before the night he had raped her fixate on her so completely?

“You’re very intelligent Sara, so I want you to answer a question for me. How long can a person go with food, water and oxygen?” Michael asked sweetly. He of course already knew the answer but he wanted to see if she would tell him the truth.

Sara thought about not answering but figured she should try to keep him calm for as long as possible, hopefully she could give the lab more time to find her before he killed her. “Three weeks without food, three days without water and three minutes without air as a general rule.”

She was putting on a brave face for him, he could tell. She was scared but she was trying to hide it. He felt a welling of pride that she had such spirit and he couldn’t wait to twist it, pull it and reshape it. “Well let’s start with air shall we?”

He moved so quickly that she didn’t even have time to blink before he was squeezing her neck so hard she though her head might pop off. She wanted to struggle, fight back, but could only move a few inches. She wanted to scream but couldn’t, the only sound that escaped was a sick, wet gurgle. The pain made the seconds stretch into hours until at last she had to close her eyes. The feel of his large hands around her throat, the burning in her lungs and pounding of her blood through her veins were the last things Sara felt before darkness claimed her. She really didn’t want to die.

I’m not dead, was the first thing her mind grasped as consciousness returned. The meager light in the room nearly blinded her as Sara opened her eyes. She wished she hadn’t as she saw her captor smiling down at her.

“Now wasn’t that fun?” Her struggles had sent happy happy joy joy feelings through him. “You know the look on your face reminded me of the time we spent together all those years ago. I wish we could have a repeat performance but unfortunately that’s not part of the program.”

Sara tried to take several deep breaths even though the pain in her throat was excruciating. She didn’t know if he was going to repeat the process. The strip strangler had choked his victims over and over before finally killing them. She wondered for a brief second how many times a person could be denied oxygen to the point of passing out before brain damage began to occur.

Michael watched as Sara struggled to breathe. There was such a heady feeling of power in taking someone to the very edge of death and then bringing them back. It was almost as good as pushing them over that cliff and watching the light as it was snuffed permanently from their eyes. He would have to repeat this little exercise later but for now he had other plans. He smiled down at her and raised his hand over his head.

Sara knew what was coming and tried to brace herself as Thomas’ fist went up. She was a little surprised though that the blown landed to her mid-section instead of her face but the pain was exactly what she had expected. She tried not to scream but as each blow landed the pain increased until she couldn’t hold back.

She didn’t know how long the beating went on, she wasn’t even sure when it stopped, all she knew was that when she finally forced herself to open her eyes she was alone once again. The attack had been brutal but for some reason he had avoided her head. Sara tried to take stock of her injuries moving as much as her restraints would allow. She didn’t think he had broken any bones but her entire body felt as if she had been hit by a truck, backed over and hit again. The brunette wished she could just pass out.

The second the screaming started Catherine began to cry. They were bloodcurdling and filled with pain. Cath was sure they would haunt her for the rest of her life. She knew without a doubt who it was and the longer it went on the harder the tears fell. She didn’t know what exactly Thomas was doing to Sara but she knew it had to be horrible. The most she had ever heard out the brunette when she was injured was a grunt and some light swearing, for her to scream that way she must be in unimaginable agony.

She had no real concept of time as she lay there. The only other sounds besides Sara’s cries were her own body wracking sobs. During her years as a CSI Cath had seen so many of the horrible things one human being could inflect upon another. She just wasn’t sure if the man that had them was really human any more.

Catherine felt a knife-like fear cut through her heart as the screams stopped. She didn’t know what was worse, the screams or the lack of them. The silence could mean Thomas had stopped whatever it was he was doing to hurt the brunette or it could mean that nothing else would ever be able to harm her again. That thought brought on a new torrent of tears. She could only hope that the younger woman was still alive even if it meant that she would most likely suffer further at the hands of this madman. Bones healed and emotional traumas could be dealt with, there was no cure for death. The sound of a key turning in the lock of her prison door snapped Catherine into focus.

Michael looked down onto the reclining beauty. She really was nearly perfect. A few flaws here and there due to the passage of time but he thought it only made her all the more alluring. Her body was still in excellent shape, no doubt from her time spent as a dancer. He could understand why she had captured his Sara’s interest. Their exchange in the parking lot had been very enlightening for him. Having ensconced himself nearby, he had heard everything. The passionate way they spoke to each other, the way they stood so close, they way Sara had held her had told him that the blonde was exactly the one he needed.

He released the straps holding her down and checked to make sure she hadn’t damaged her wrists. He didn’t want her marred; she needed to be pristine for Sara. “I thought you might be hungry and thirsty.”

Catherine sat up slowly and glanced down at the end of the bunk at the plain brown paper bag. She had seen it when he entered the room but assumed that no matter what he had said before she was about to find out exactly what he had done to Sara. She watched as he pulled out a jug of water and another bag. She was in fact extremely hungry and her throat felt she had been walking in the desert for days, in July. She trusted this guy about as far as she could throw him but she needed to keep up her strength.

She grabbed for the water first, needing to sooth her dry throat. Opening the bag next she saw an egg salad sandwich from the very same deli she had been walking to when Thomas had grabbed her. He certainly seemed to have a twisted sense of humor. As she chewed quickly Catherine kept a nervous eye on the man as he moved back to the door. She wondered if that was going to be it, if he was just going to leave her alone again. Her hopes were dashed as he came right back in with a large plastic bucket.

“There are no facilities in here and I’m not going to come running every time you need to go.” Michael informed the blonde as he followed her gaze. Normally he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if she soiled herself but he wanted her to stay as immaculate as possible given the accommodations. “I’m going to leave you untied, there’s no way out of here. You might as well be comfortable while you wait.”

“I want to see Sara.” Catherine said around a bite of food. She needed to see for herself that the brunette was still alive even though she was afraid of what shape she might find her in.

“Oh no it’s much too soon, we’ve only just started. She’s no where near ready for that and I want it to be a surprise. You should feel very honored though. You’re going to be her first.” Michael could see confusion cloud the blonde’s face. He thought about not elaborating but just couldn’t contain himself. Didn’t all parents who loved their children enjoy bragging about them? And he felt like he was her father, after all he was going to be responsible for her rebirth.

“She will be my crowning achievement and you will be the final piece of the puzzle in her evolution. She just needs a little push, a tiny shove to become what she was always meant to be. Oh my beautiful Sara. When I’m finished creating her she will be like nothing this world has ever seen. I will remake her in my image but she will be better than me. Who would suspect her? Who would be afraid of her until it is too late? She will strike terror in her victims unlike any before because until the moment she strikes they will believe themselves safe. She will be perfection. My perfection.”

He was clearly insane. Catherine had known that before but it was different when you could see it and hear it. He thought he could turn Sara into a rapist? A murderer? No. No way. Not Sara she was too good a person. She was almost noble in her pursuit of justice for the victims’ sake. There was no way he could break her like that. She refused to believe it could happen, that the brunette would allow it to happen.

“You should get some rest. You’re going to need your strength and I don’t want you to have bags under your eyes when Sara sees you. Now be a good girl and finish your dinner. I’ll check on you tomorrow and bring you something else to eat. I have to get back to my work.” He reached out and gently stroking her cheek before quickly leaving the room.

Catherine could only watch him leave the room, his conversational tone creeped her out as much as his touch made her skin crawl. She hadn’t expected him to let her see the brunette but she was disappointed none the less. Her mind had been running circles around itself thinking of every conceivable torture Sara could be going through. She needed to get out of there, get them some help, before it was too late.

Part 10

Warrick looked nervously between Grissom and Stokes. Tears were falling unchecked down Nick’s cheeks and Gil was just sitting there like a statue. He didn’t think the entomologist had moved in the ten minutes since he had returned to the lab. He was obviously in a state of shock.

There had been precious little evidence to collect at Sara’s and they had made it back to the crime lab in record time, only to walk into another nightmare. He was worried about Grissom, the man looked completely broken. If he didn’t snap out of it soon he was going to take him to the hospital or something. Nick wasn’t looking to good either and he had never seen his friend cry before. Of course he didn’t think any less of him, hell he had found himself forced to wipe moister away from his eyes on more than one occasion tonight.

Greg wasn’t much better off than the other two. He had hardly said a word on the drive back to the lab and Warrick could see the pain etched deeply into his face. Brown knew about the former lab tech’s crush on Sara, everyone did, but this went deeper. Of course they had probably gotten closer since the team had been split, how could they not? Grissom wasn’t a people person and he really couldn’t see the brunette hanging out with Sophia after shift even if they got along at work. Although the blonde did look almost as upset as everyone else.

“Guys I think we just caught a break.” Brass announced as he rushed into the room. “Sara’s car is missing.”

It took a long moment for this announcement to break through the wall of pain that had trapped Gil inside his mind. Ever since the detective’s call he had been living in a pit of despair, he was so blinded by pain. He looked up at Jim with a tiny bit of hope lighting his previously dead eyes. “Any hits yet?”

“Not yet but every cop in Vegas, on duty or off, is looking for it.” The detective noticed for the first time the somber air in the room. “Come on people lets go. We’re not giving up until we find them.”

Right. They couldn’t give up hope. Grissom knew that every person in that room would work nonstop until they had them back. That they might not find them alive didn’t bear thinking. If he let himself go down that road Gil knew he would sink right back into that dark place he had just woken up from and this time he might not come back. “Ok where are we on the trace we collected from the original scenes?”

Before anyone could answer they were interrupted by the last person any of them wanted to see. “Grissom I need to speak to you.”

All eyes were on the two men as Gil followed Conrad out into the hall. They kept their voices low but everyone could tell it was a heated argument. The graveyard supervisor’s face was getting red and he was gesturing wildly. When he stepped back into the room he looked as if someone had punched him in the gut.

“Ecklie has just informed me that he is pulling all of us from the case. Day shift will be officially taking over. He says we’re all too close.”

A chorus of ‘no way’ ‘bullshit’ ‘he can’t do that’ rang out in the small room. Grissom held up his hand for silence. He knew how they felt, he felt the same way. “Unofficially there is no way in hell we are just going to walk away. We keep working until Sara and Catherine are back here. Everyone go make copies of whatever reports you have and bring the originals to me. We’ll meet in my in office in half an hour.”

Sara hissed as the needle sank into the bruised flesh of her arm. The drug burned like liquid fire through her veins and exploded in her brain and time became meaningless as she floated in the flames.

Catherine shrank back into the corner of her cold cell as the screams became louder. They were different. Before it they had been full of gut-wrenching agony, now they were of blood-chilling terror. What could he be showing Sara that would frighten the normally stoic woman? She could almost make out words, pleas, prayers, jumbled into the cries, but they were too strangled to make sense of.

Thomas wasn’t physically hurting Catherine but to her, having to listen to Sara’s wails of suffering was torture to her soul. She didn’t know how much more either of them could take.

Self-awareness came slowly to Sara as she fought off the last effects of whatever drugs Michael had given her. When the fog in her mind cleared enough for her to be aware of her surroundings she found she was no longer strapped down to the bed. Now she was sitting, tied down to a chair. She didn’t remember him moving her and wondered with dread what else he might have done while her mind and body were helpless.

How long had it been since she had opened her door and let the devil in? She felt like she had been trapped in this Abaddon for weeks. She couldn’t remember much after he had injected her with hell in a needle but what little she could was worse than anything her mind had ever tortured her with on her worst night.

Her throat felt like she had been chewing on sandpaper but she couldn’t tell if that was an after-effect of the drugs or to long without water. Sara tried to move to see how her body felt but had to stop instantly as pain rippled through her, causing her to groan. Her battered body had been sitting up in one place for to long.

“I was beginning to think I had given you too much.”

The unexpected voice from behind her mad Sara jump, she had assumed she was alone in the room. She closed her eyes not wanting to look at him as he walked in front of her. She was afraid of what was coming next. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She had already strangled to the point of passing out several more times and endured another beating, this time to her back.

“I have a gift for you but you only get it if you’re a very good girl.” Michael set down his equipment and reached out to grip her chin. “Open you eyes damn it.”

The angry tone of his voice made Sara comply instantly with the command. She started to shake when she saw the rage in his eyes. She didn’t think she could take another beating or another round of the liquid nightmare he had given her.

“You will look at me when I speak to you, understand?” He waited until she nodded before he forced himself to relax. “Now I have a cup of water for you but you can’t have it just yet.”

He had watched her for hours as she struggled in the grip of the drugs. Her temperature had risen and she had begun to sweat profusely so Michael had to revise his plan a bit. Originally he was going to wait another day before giving her any water but she had lost so much that he was afraid to let her go that long. He didn’t want her dead, just broken. So that he could rebuild her.

Sara locked her eyes on the small cup of liquid and if she hadn’t been so dehydrated she was sure her mouth would be watering. It wasn’t much but it might be enough to ease the pain in her throat. She didn’t want to think about what he wanted her to do in order to get it though.

She tore her gaze away from the water to the items beside it and wished she hadn’t. A car battery with jumper cables attached sat on the floor. Now Sara knew what was coming next and her body tensed. She had been shocked once by a frayed lamp cord when she was a kid. It had hurt like hell and she hadn’t even gotten a full jolt.

The second thing she noticed was a small assortment of knives. These worried her more than the battery did. Sara looked up into Thomas’s eyes and tried to stall him. “What was in that needle?”

“Don’t worry I want an ally not an addict. Now enough small talk, let’s get started shall we?” Michael hesitated slightly, not sure which instrument he wanted first. After a moment he decided on the battery. He stepped behind her and picked up the bucket of water he had left there. She needed to be wet in order to get the full effect.

Without warning he dumped it over her head and grinned as she gasped at the drenching. The small smile turned into a laugh when he moved back to face her as he saw her desperately trying to collect small droplets of water with her tongue. He simply enjoyed the sight for a few moments before picking up the cables and tapping them together to get her attention.

Sara tried to brace herself but the second the electricity hit her it was no use. Pain lanced through her and she wanted to scream but she was held prisoner as her body went rigid. The second jolt hit her harder than the first, her already battered body silently screeching at this new abuse. By the fifth shock she wished she was dead. The tenth was too much for her to take and darkness mercifully descended. When the light returned Michael was standing over her wiping her brow with a cool wet cloth.

“There now, you did so well I think you earned your reward. You’re much stronger than I thought you know.” Thomas brought the cup to her lips and smiled as she greedily drank it all. “Unfortunately that means we have a lot of work still ahead of us.”

All Sara could do was tremble as he bent to the knives. She didn’t know how much more she could take. Even after she had received a beating from one of her parents they had usually given her time to recover before the next one. He had allowed her no rest, no sleep, except for the brief moments when her body could no longer take the abuse and her brain shut down.

She wasn’t a religious person but Sara found herself praying, begging, for any deity that might exist to help her.

Part 11

Catherine kicked the door one more time out of pure frustration. She had been over every inch of the tiny room several times and found nothing that she could use. The only things in there were the cheap uncomfortable cot and the bucket she had been loathed to use but hadn’t had much choice. The room was becoming more than a little ripe because of it too. “Maybe I can throw the bucket at him. Great now I’m talking to myself.”

The laugh that escaped sounded more like a sob and was accompanied by the thought that she really might be losing it. She grabbed hold of her will and wrestled it back to the fore of her soul. It had gotten her through years of sweaty hands grabbing at her and lustful eyes following her every night. It had gotten her through a battle with a cocaine addiction. It had helped her carry, give birth and raise a beautiful daughter with little assistance from a deadbeat cheating husband. It had given her the strength to leave Eddie when she had finally caught him in bed with another woman, and it would get through this. She just needed to stop for a moment and think.

An idea began forming in her mind and Catherine grabbed the edge of the cot and flipped it over. It was a flimsy little thing but if she could manage to break off one of the legs or support bars she would have a weapon. Working as quickly and as quietly as she could, Cath twisted, pushed, pulled and finally jumped on the bed frame before it broke. The result wasn’t very heartening.

The leg was hollow aluminum with hardly any weight at all to it but it was all she had. Not knowing how long she had before Thomas came back, Catherine tried to set the cot back up and make it appear normal. She would need every second and if he opened the door to find the bed destroyed it would clue him into the fact that she was up to something and put him on the defensive.

By the time she was finished the cot looked almost normal, although the side that she had taken the leg from was a bit lower than the others. She pushed it against the wall and wadded the dirty blanket up to try to make it look even. Catherine had no idea how long she was going to have to wait so she settled down on the cold concrete floor and leaned back against the wall as close to the bucket as her nose would allow.

It had been some time since she had last heard Sara and she was worried out of her mind about the younger woman. She hoped the silence meant that Thomas was leaving her alone. Catherine herself hadn’t slept since the moment she had woken up in the tiny cell. How could she when somewhere nearby Sara was being tortured.

Cath angrily swiped at the newest batch of tears springing to her eyes. Crying wouldn’t do her or Sara any good. Once they were safe then she could weep for a solid month. For now she had to be strong, for both of them.

Thomas had told her that he would bring her something to eat tomorrow, but she had no way of knowing how much time had actually passed. It certainly felt like she had been there for at least twenty-four hours but who could tell when all you had to mark the time were the sounds of fear and pain.

Tension and the coldness of the floor seeping into and numbing her backside propelled Catherine off the floor. She felt like a caged animal as she paced the floor, six steps up, turn, six steps back and repeat. She remembered taking Lindsey to the zoo when she five and watching a leopard wearing a path from one end of his enclosure to the other, never deviating from his route. At the moment she felt a certain kinship to that animal as she once again turned and started back toward the door.

A loud crash from somewhere in the building brought the blonde to a sudden halt. She moved cautiously to the door and pressed her ear to it, trying to catch any sound that might give her a clue as to what was going on. Straining her ears she cursed under her breath as anger rose like a dark cloud in her mind. The son of a bitch was whistling the song from Snow White, Whistle While You Work. Her rage at the man flared so brightly it threatened to blind her. She quickly tempered it into hard resolve when she realized that it was getting louder and he was coming her direction.

Catherine scrambled back to the far wall and crouched down beside the noisome bucket. Setting her make-shift weapon on the floor beside her, the blonde tensed her body, ready for the attack. She swallowed a sharp burst of fear as the lock rattled. Time seemed to slow down as the door swung open and the man she had come to hate more than any one in her life walked in with a smile on his face.

Without really realizing that she was moving, Catherine’s coiled muscles sprang forward and she watched in fascination as the bucket left her hands. Its foul contents connected with his face and upper body a split second before the plastic container bounced off the top of his head. Time warped and sped up and suddenly she was behind the taller man, hitting him as hard as she could with her flimsy weapon.

Willows’ didn’t know how many hits she managed to get in before the thin pipe broke but it was enough to send the man crashing to the ground. She didn’t wait around to see if Thomas was out or not, she just bolted from the room. Running blindly down a long corridor she called out franticly for Sara. She knew the younger woman had to be close for her to have been able to hear her cries, but the way sound bounced off the dull gray concrete walls she couldn’t tell which direction they had come from.

Catherine’s logical mind was yelling at her to run, find help and get the police there as fast as possible. Her heart however was screaming at her that she couldn’t possibly leave Sara there for another second to face this hell alone. She was afraid that if she didn’t get the younger woman out now Thomas would move her and she would be lost to them forever. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

She nearly ran past the door with a heavy metal beam across it before it registered that it was barred from the outside. Catherine slid to a halt. This was it, it had to be. Why put something like that on the outside of a door if it wasn’t to keep something, or rather someone, in.

The bar was incredibly heavy but fear fueled her strength as Cath threw herself at it. The noise was deafening as metal grated against metal with a screeching protest. She almost had it, just a little more. Her breath was coming fast and ragged as she gave one more desperate push and the bar slid free and crashed to the floor with a deafening clang that echoed down the hallway.

As Catherine reached for the doorknob her sob of relief suddenly turned into one of pain as a hand wrapped itself in her hair and she was cruelly torn away from her goal. She slammed into a rock hard body and the scream that rose in her throat was cut off before it could be voiced as bands of steel surrounded her neck.

“You stupid whore! You’re just like all the rest of them, trying to hold me back, ruin my plans. Well not this time!” Michael had been stunned for a few moments by the attack. Now he was covered in filth and his head was pounding where the little bitch had hit him. He had underestimated her once, allowed himself to become complacent and this was his reward. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

The pain in Cath’s head was piercing as she was dragged down the hallway. She could feel the hair being ripped away from her scalp taking skin with it. She grabbed his hand with both of hers trying to take the pressure off. As he hauled her back to her make-shift cell tears of pain mixed with tears of fear and despair. She had failed and now they were both going to pay for it.

Michael was fighting to stay in control. The urge to squeeze the life out of the blonde was slamming back and worth between his ears. He wanted to kill her, make her suffer for her defiance, but he still needed her. Of course he could find another woman, one that looked like her but it wouldn’t have the same impact on his Sara. He threw the woman away from him, away from the temptation to hurt her and watched in satisfaction as she crumpled against the wall.

The sobs coming from his sacrificial lamb were music to his ears and soothed his anger just enough to reign in his rage. He knew she was a mother, someone who felt for other people, he knew what would hurt her even more than physical pain. “I know what you’re thinking but I’m not going to harm you even though I want to. No I’ve decided that Sara will be receiving your punishment. I had planned on letting her rest for a little while but now she is going to suffer in your place. I want you to sit there and think about what you’ve done.”

As the door slammed behind him Catherine broke down. She had let Sara down. She didn’t believe for one second that it was her fault that the brunette was going to be tortured by that twisted bastard. He was going to do that no matter what she did. No she had blown her one chance to escape and save them. Her last scrap of hope had been stripped away leaving her desolate and bare. No one was going to find them and the cavalry wasn’t going to come riding in to rescue them. The hopelessness was crippling and she could do was curl into a ball and let her anguish roll hotly down her cheeks.

Part 12

Once she might have sought the light but now she craved oblivion. She longed for darkness to hide herself away from the torment of her body and the insistence of the voice stalking her mind.

“This was her pain, she made me give it to you. She wanted you to feel this. She wants you to suffer.”

She was made of agony, dull and twisting, sharp and cutting. “Tell me about Catherine. Tell me what you feel when you argue with her.”

Stabbing, burning, breaking, bright blinding flashes of misery. “Tell me about the first time your father broke one of your bones, your first trip to the hospital.”

Hot needles shoved under fingernails, spikes driven into the tender flesh of her thighs, blows to bruised ribs. “Tell me how you felt while you watched your mother kill him.”

“Tell me tell me tell me tell me…”

She didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to remember but the voice was screaming in her head, the pain was too much. She just wanted it to stop.

“No one cares about you, only me. No one will take care of you, only me. They make me hurt you, she makes me hurt you. No one can stop the pain, only me. No one can make you whole, only me.”

“Only me only me only me only me…”

Michael watched her mouth open in one last silent scream. Her voice had given out hours ago and he found he missed the sweet music of her pain. He had been as surprised and frustrated as he was proud of her will. He hadn’t thought anyone could hold out that long in the face of mind withering agony. She had such inner strength, such hard steel at her very core and he had broken and softened it, made it pliant. Now he would reshape and sculpt her into perfection.

Stepping back he admired his work. Purple, black, green and yellow molted nearly every inch of her skin. The only thing he had left untouched was her face. He just couldn’t bring himself to mar that angelic visage. It was still breathtaking to see, a true work of art. He was a painter and she was his canvas. This was what his father had aspired to be, but he was a rank amateur next to the master his son had become.

He had finally reached the pinnacle of domination over another human being. He knew he owed it all to his mahogany-eyed goddess. The first time he had seen her he knew she was special, he just hadn’t realized how much. The joy he had felt the first time he saw the light dim in a woman’s eyes as he spilled himself inside her paled in comparison to the bliss he experienced as Sara finally bent to his will. He knew that this feeling would be nothing more than a shadow of the ecstasy that would wash over him when he watched her take Catherine Willows body and then her life.

He gently removed the bindings from Sara’s wrists and ankles before scooping her into his arms. Having her pressed so intimately against his chest as he cradled her like an infant was too much of a temptation and he had to quickly deposit her on the cot. He still wanted her, still dreamed of her and still longed for her. The one that got away.

For twelve long years he had thought about her nearly every waking moment and her image had haunted his slumber. At first he thought it was because she had escaped and facilitated his arrest. It wasn’t until that night a little over three years ago when he received his divine vision that he was made to understand the truth.

The bedroom was large and comfortably decorated. A king sized bed dominated the space, covered in a rich burgundy coverlet that contrasted nicely with the pale skin of his prey. He stood in the doorway for long moments, flower in hand, watching the woman as she slept. Looking to his left he realized he wasn’t alone this time, but instead of being surprised it felt right. The woman standing beside him was familiar and strange at the same time. He had seen her, known her before, but she was different from the shy withdrawn girl he had watched for so long. Now she was a vision in head to toe body hugging black leather, a stunning and deadly predator. Her dark hair flowed around her head, blown in a wind he couldn’t feel and the ivory skin of her face glowed in the moonlight streaming through the thin curtains giving her an ethereal quality.

She turned her fathomless chocolate colored eyes on him and caught his gaze, holding it fearlessly. As she nodded her head in the direction of the bed he knew she was silently asking him permission to be first, to take the first taste of the woman’s fear. He nodded and she moved like lightning across the room. He glowed in paternal pride as he watched the ferocity with which she attacked. She was savage, feral and so absolutely beautiful as she took what she desired that he couldn’t help but stand there in awe of her. She was perfection made manifest and she was his.

He had woken in a cold sweat with a new understanding and a new mission. One day he would make that dream a reality. Now here he was, on the eve of seeing it come true. It was too bad Sara would be too sore to wear the outfit he had bought for her; tight leather over bruises might make it a bit difficult to move. Well he would see her in them soon enough.

Exhaustion stole over him like a dense fog rolling in off the ocean. The stimulants he had used to keep them both awake were wearing off and he still had things to do. He would let her rest while he attended to the various cuts and punctures on her body. It wouldn’t do for them to get infected and scar. He wanted her as unblemished as possible.

He caressed her soft cheek with the back of his hand once before returning to his toolbox and retrieving the meager medical supplies he had brought with him. After cutting off Sara’s tattered shirt and pants Michael decided to leave her underwear intact. There was only so much temptation a man could endure before giving in after all. He realized as he cleaned her injuries that rubbing alcohol and Neosporin were only a stop-gap measures, he would have to break into pharmacy and get her some real antibiotics. That was a detail he should have thought of earlier.

Details, they weren’t something he was particularly good at. Sara was great with them, she had to be to do her job. Soon he would be able to leave all the minutiae up to her. She would be the one person on this earth he could trust, because he had created her that way. As he cleaned his angel’s wounds he knew that he was no longer alone.

He redressed her in clothes he had taken from the home of the third woman he had used to get Sara’s attention because they were the same size. The exhausted brunette did not stir once as he lifted and manipulated her body. He was probably going to have to nearly double the drugs he had been using just to wake her up. Even though he had succeeded in breaking her he still had to train her. He didn’t think it would be that hard though, she already the foundations. He just needed to build on them.

Part 13

“It’s been three days Griss and we’re no closer to finding them! Hell they could already be dead and this bastard could be in Mexico by now!” Nick yelled at his former boss. He was slowly losing it and he knew that, but he just couldn’t stop himself from taking out his fear on those around him. He had been going for more than seventy-two hours with no sleep, very little to eat and enough caffeine to keep an elephant awake for a year, he was so close to his breaking point that he could see the cracks spreading.

The words were barely out of Nick’s mouth when he suddenly found himself slammed hard against the wall with the stocky entomologist’s arm across his throat. Fear shot through him like a bullet as he looked into the shorter man’s eyes and saw pain mixed with terror and rage glaring back at him. He had never seen that much raw emotion on Grissom’s face and he hoped he never did again.

“Shut the hell up Stokes! They are not dead, they can’t be!” Gil was in a red haze. Having lived in abject fear for days his nerves had been shattered into razor sharp points, slicing him into jagged pieces. He had to believe that Sara and Catherine were alive and whole because if he didn’t then the shards of his sanity would lose what little cohesion they had left and he would fly apart.

Nick was taller and stronger than the older CSI, but Grissom was being fueled by anger and fear and the Texan was having a hard time drawing a breath. Black spots were beginning to float in front of his eyes when the pressure on his neck suddenly disappeared. When his vision returned he could see that Warrick was holding Gil back, arms pinned to his sides.

“Griss! Grissom stop!” Warrick yelled trying to get through to the thrashing man. It seemed as if something suddenly broke inside Gil as he stopped fighting and sagged back against the darker man. When he was certain that his former boss wasn’t going to try to go after Nick again he let go of his arms and moved his hands to the older man’s shoulders, letting him know that he was there for him. “We’re not going to do Cath and Sara any good if we’re tearing each other apart.”

Nick hung his head in shame. He knew his words had set off the older man. Gil was already walking a tightrope of despair and Stokes had pushed him off, they were lucky that Warrick had been there to catch him. “I’m sorry Griss. I’m just tired, frustrated and scared out of my mind. I can’t imagine life without the two of them here and the possibility that it might happen is just twisting my heart so hard it feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No I’m the one that should be sorry Nicky I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that and I most certainly shouldn’t have put my hands on you. I hope you will forgive me. But to be clear we are not quitting until Catherine and Sara are standing here with us.” Now that Gil had gotten a little of his equilibrium back he was realized how close he had been to really hurting the younger man.

“The fact that we haven’t found their bodies gives me hope. This guy wouldn’t hide them. He’d dump them where we were sure to discover them. He’s the kind of psychopath that would want to see the looks on our faces and gloat at our pain. So we keep looking.” Grissom understood how Nick felt, he was feeing the same way but he couldn’t let himself think that they weren’t still alive. He didn’t want to think about what kind of shape they might be in when they got them back or what horrors they might be going through at that moment. They would cross that bridge when they got to it.

“What I don’t understand is why he called in the murders when he did. Why not wait until your shift started? That way Sara would have definitely been assigned to one of the cases.” Nick asked. It had been on his mind ever since Brass had brought them the information.

The homicide detective had of course had the 911 calls traced. All five had come in from the same payphone only minutes apart. After sending the recordings through the AV lab it was determined that the same man had made them all.

“He’s been watching Sara. That means he’s been watching us as well. He must have known that neither of our shifts could handle that kind of case load and would have to have help.” It was the only reason that made any sense to Grissom. Of course trying to find sane reasoning for the actions of a madman was pointless.

“Yeah, but how could he be sure that Catherine wouldn’t get someone from dayshift? I mean how could he possibly know she would call you?” For Nick it was something to focus on other than his fear for his two friends and he just couldn’t let it go.

“I don’t know Nicky, I wish I did. If I could figure out how this man thinks then I could find him.” The whole thing was tearing him up inside. Grissom was living in a hurricane of self-recrimination over not being able to put the clues together and find them.

The two men fell into an uneasy silence and Warrick watched over the both of them glad that they seemed to have already forgotten the fight. Just when it seemed as if the hush that was surrounding them would stretch on indefinitely it was broken by the shrill ringing of a cell. They all reached reflexively for their sides but it was Grissom that came up the winner.

Nick tried to figure out what the call was about but all he got from Grissom’s end was ‘Where?’ ‘When?’ and ‘We’re on our way.’ The sudden smile on the older man’s face gave the Texan a surge of hope.

“They found Sara’s car. It’s at an abandoned plastic’s factory outside of town. Highway Patrol spotted it about ten minutes ago. Get the others so we can head over there, Brass is already on the way.”

Catherine’s head jerked up from where it was resting on her knees as the door to her tiny prison opened. She hadn’t seen or heard from her captor since she had tried to escape and free Sara. She had been glad in a way that she hadn’t seen him, it meant that she was safe for a while longer, but it also meant that she had no food or water. Even as hungry and thirsty as she was, she knew without a doubt that it had to be nothing in comparison to what the brunette was going through.

She hadn’t heard Sara in so long that she had almost convinced herself that the younger woman was dead. The only thing that gave her hope was the fact that she herself was still alive. Surely if Thomas had killed Sidle then he would have come to finish off Catherine as well. Now he was back and she had the feeling that things were about to go from bad to worse just by the sick smile on his face as he entered the room.

He was silent as he crossed the short distance between them and roughly pulled her to her feet by the arm. Michael couldn’t help the grin of triumph as he propelled her down the hall. His Sara was finally ready and this bitch was going to get everything coming to her. She had defied him, tried to ruin his plans and steal his mate away from him. He was going to greatly enjoy watching his mahogany-eyed goddess rip her apart, just like in his dream.

The grip the tall man had on her arm was not only painful but it was at such an angle that Catherine had to nearly run on her tiptoes to keep up with him and not be dragged down the corridor. He stopped so abruptly that it was only his hold that kept her from falling. The door gave such a shrieking protest as Thomas nearly ripped it from its hinges that it caused the blonde to wince as the noise assaulted her ears.

As she got her first look at the room Catherine’s fear was momentarily overshadowed by puzzlement. It was obviously a janitor’s closet but she couldn’t think of a good reason for him to bring her there, unless he intended to make this her new cell. The lithe blonde didn’t have time to ask, even if she had wanted to, before he shoved her inside and against the far wall before he stepped up to the large utility sink.

Even though she wanted to run there was no way Catherine could possibly get past the large man and out the door. All Thomas would have to do was reach his muscled arm out to stop her in her tracks. It wasn’t immediately obvious what he was doing but it soon became clear when he turned a water hose on her.

The ice cold water hit her full force in the chest and Cath had to bite back a yelp. It took a few moments for her brain to get over the sudden shock and realize she was missing a golden opportunity. She managed to swallow quite a bit of water before her forced cold shower was over. It was enough to ease the soreness in her throat and the dull the aching of her empty belly.

As she stood there shivering, teeth chattering painfully, suddenly Catherine wasn’t just shaking from the cold. The predatory look in the sociopath’s eyes as his gaze raked up and down her wet body chilled her more than the water. Before she had time to wrap her arms around her chest to shield herself from that hungry look she was being propelled out of the room.

He led her back down the hall, past the door where she had been kept before to another room. This one was a little bigger than her first cell but it was completely bare except for a set of chains on the wall. Seeing them she made a quick decision. Twisting her arm and pulling with all her might Cath tried to break free and make a run for it. She didn’t have a chance against his superior strength though.

One tug was all it took for him to bring her back to his side and before she could try again she was seeing stars from the blow he landed to her head. Her vision was still swimming when the rapidly swelling lump on the back of her skull hit the wall and sent a new round of lights dancing across her eyes. Before Catherine could get her vision to clear her hands were being lifted above her and secured to the chains with the same kind of leather straps he had used to tie her to the cot. He slapped a piece of duct tape over mouth and gave her a huge toothy grin before turning on his heel and striding quickly out of the room.

Catherine would have gasped, if it hadn’t been for the gag, when the dark haired man returned guiding Sara in front of him. It was her first look at the younger woman since she had driven away from the CSI Lab. The changes in the brunette were nothing less than startling and terrifying.

Sara’s eyes had sunk into her face and sported large dark bags under them, giving her an almost skeletal look. They were so dead looking that Cath couldn’t help the shudder than ran through her body, it was as if the light that normally shined in those deep brown orbs had been put out from the inside. Her cheekbones shown in stark relief under the meager light making Cath doubt she had been given any food or drink the entire time she had been there. Her normally olive skin was so sallow and pale the blonde was sure if she were closer she would be able to see the intricate network veins running beneath. In short the formally healthy and whole young woman looked like a zombie, like the walking dead.

Sara was wearing shorts and a small white tank top that only accentuated the dark bruises covering her body. Catherine had to close her eyes as she noticed cuts running up and down the brunette’s long legs. Tears were burning to be shed at the thought of the many horrors the young woman had been made to endure at the hands of the madman standing behind her.

Michael smirked at the look in the blonde’s eyes. She was hurting for his Sara but she wasn’t yet afraid of her. That would soon change. “I have a gift for you. Take a long look at her, she belongs to you.”

Sara raised her eyes where the voice directed her and felt something stir within her. It was a brief flash, almost a memory, then it was gone. She grasped at it desperately wanting something other than the murky cloud that surrounded her. It was so hard to think, to feel anything other than the dull ache of her body. He had given her something, something for the pain he said. It had eased the agony but it had also wrapped her mind in a thick shroud of darkness that she couldn’t seem to penetrate. All she could do walk were he told her to walk, stand where he told her to stand, do what he told her to do.

“She’s the one that has caused you all this pain. She’s just like your mother Sara. She degrades you, she hurts you, she makes you feel like nothing. She’s the reason you’re here.” Michael told her softly, his lips only a breath away from her ear.

Sara shook her head. He was always talking about her parents, making her tell him about the horrible things they had done. She didn’t want to remember them and what had happened in that house, remembering brought back all the hurt they had heaped upon her tiny body and young mind. The woman in front of her was familiar, but she couldn’t seem to place her. How could the blonde have treated her like her mother did and her not remember her?

“Yes she is.” Thomas took her movement as denial. “How many times has she put you down? How many times did you reach out only to be kicked away?” It was amazing what he had learned about the two women’s relationship after a few sessions with Sara. “She’s like your father too. She wants to hit you, to break your bones, she wants to kill you.”

Another flash, this one deeper, crisper, clearer. ‘I admit there have been times I’ve wanted to shake you senseless when you get so wrapped up in a case that you forget that anything else exists. I have entertained thoughts of strangling you when your attitude gets out of control. Once I even had a daydream of bending you over my knee and spanking you for acting like an overgrown petulant child.’ Could it be true? Was it a memory or just a nightmare? Could the woman in front of her have told her that? Sara couldn’t be sure but it seemed to ring true. Something about the blonde was sending mixed signals bouncing through her battered mind. She made her feel angry, scared and safe all at the same time. But which emotion could she trust?

He could see a spark of recognition in her eyes. “You’re almost there.” Michael whispered in the brunette’s ear. “I know you want her, reach out and take what you want. She can’t deny you now, won’t deny you. Look at her, she’s waiting for you Sara.”

She shook her head. This was wrong, but it was true. She could feel her hands shakings wanting to obey. There was something clawing at the back of her head, trying to dig its way out, something that screeched and wailed. Sara wasn’t sure if it wanted her to do as he said or if it was trying to stop her.

“You’ve wanted her, loved her, for five years and for five long years she has stabbed you in the heart. She whored herself to thousands of men, selling her body to their eyes. She gives everyone around you a piece of herself but for you? Nothing. Not a kind word, not a pat on the shoulder. Take her. Take her now. End your pain.” His voice rose with each word until he was nearly screaming. He was so close, so very close, to having everything he wanted.

“No.” Sara’s voice was raw. The screams that had been tore from her throat had ripped and shredded it until it wasn’t even recognizable as hers. “I can’t.”

“You can! It’s the last step and you will be reborn. All the pain will end, no one will ever be able to touch you again, to hurt you. It’s already there inside you Sara. Your father beat his family and his violence lives within you. Your mother murdered him and her blood pumps through your veins. You are a born killer, designed by nature and nurtured by pain. I helped you along your path the night I took you. You’re soul has festered, rotted and decayed until I came back to finish your metamorphosis.”Michael knew she wanted it, he could see it in her eyes. The desire was shining brighter than the sun. All she had to do was overcome that last shred ofwhat weak people who were too afraid to take what they wanted in life called humanity.

Catherine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was no that any of that could be true, could it? ‘Every time a case comes a long that has hint of domestic abuse you lose it. What is your problem?’ Suddenly her own words were coming back to haunt to her. There had been huge neon signs hanging over Sara’s head and she hadn’t put the pieces together. This was what the brunette and Grissom had alluded to back in the lab. Regret and guilt forced her eyes closed for a second as she vowed to make up every cross word, barb and cold shoulder she had ever thrown the younger woman’s way. Provided they got out of this alive.

She opened her eyes just in time to see Thomas give the brunette a shove, making her stumble forward. Sara came to stop just before she crashed into her, their faces mere inches from each other. Catherine tried to catch her gaze, tried to communicate with her, tell her not to do what he wanted but the normally shining orbs were flat, dead. It was as if Sara wasn’t even there, that her body was walking around on its own.

“Touch her.” Michael demanded his voice forceful and hard. All his hard work was coming to fruition and his patients was wearing thin.

Sara could see her arm rising without her consent. The thing seemed to have a will of its own. She wanted to stop but could only watch as it reached out for the blonde in front of her. The feel of the soft downy cheek under her fingers sent a bolt of lighting through her and she regained control of her traitorous limb and snatched it away before it could betray her again. There were so many conflicting emotions running rampart through her she didn’t know what to feel. She wanted to touch this woman, was drawn to her, but she knew it was wrong. Guilt was clashing with desire and she didn’t know which would win.

Michael stepped up beside his protégé. Finally she was giving in. A few more minutes and she would be his forever. He drew his knife and began cutting the buttons off the blonde’s still damp shirt. “Touch her there.”

Once again there was no will, just action. Sara had learned to obey, when she did as she was told, the pain was taken away. But she also wanted to do as she was told, wanted to feel that soft skin again. Her hand was shaking as she let it run down the woman’s body, between the valley of her generous breasts and over her toned stomach before falling away at the waistband of her jeansThe guilt returned a thousand fold but it didn’t stop the pleasure she felt from touching the blonde.

Sara was mesmerized by the rapid rise and fall of the woman’s chest and everything else melted into the background until she felt something cold and hard being pressed into her hand. She looked down and the knife ensnared her. She had seen one like it before, big and wickedly sharp.

Her father had been sprawled on the bed, passed out drunk once again, unaware that death was stalking him. Her mother stood next to him, a warped smile distorting her face into a caricature of herself. Sara cowered in the corner Laura Sidle had thrown her in, hoping that the enraged woman wouldn’t remember that she was there, wouldn’t come for her too. The knife flashed sliver in the moonlight, like a beacon it drew her eyes as if rose swiftly in the air. Crimson sprang from the gash in his chest, staining his white t-shirt. The knife rose again, covered in gore and dripping blood. As her mother plunged the blade into her father over and over the viscous liquid flew off it, covering her mother, the walls and even her thin body.

“Cut the rest off her.”

The voice was cold, but it was also excited as it pulled her out of the memory. Sara looked up into tearful blue eyes filled with fear, fear of her. Something dark twisted and snapped deep within her soul and she raised her hand.

Catherine wanted to close her eyes, she wanted all this to be a horrible nightmare. But it wasn’t. Sara was standing before her with a knife in her hand looking like she was ready to kill her. When the brunette had touched her it was as if she didn’t even realize she was doing it, like she was a puppet on a string. Even then she didn’t think Sara would hurt her, couldn’t believe that the tall brunette would ever harm her. Now Sara’s dead eyes were alive again and burning with a hatred she could never have imagined in the normally soft brown orbs. Now she wasn’t just afraid of her, she was terrified.

The move when it came was so fast Cath could hardly follow it. She didn’t even have time to blink as Sara whirled, knife raised, and sunk the blade into their tormentor’s shoulder with a strangled growl. She fell on him, striking out with her fists, raining down blows in quick succession. It was as if she was trying to return every hit he had given to her, every ounce of pain she had suffered at his hands. The fury erupting from the young woman was frightening to see but Willows was just glad that it wasn’t being directed at her.

Sara hit until she could no longer raise her fists. She looked at the knife still stuck in Michael’s shoulder and thought about pulling it out and shoving it into his black heart but stopped herself. If she did that then she would be lost forever. She stood up and stepped away so she wouldn’t be tempted again. “I told you that you would never make me like you. I’m not a rapist, I’m not a killer.”

Catherine felt hot tears burning their way down her face. She wasn’t sure if it was relief that it was over or grief over how close Sara had come to becoming the thing she hated the most.

It was the fear in the blonde’s eyes that had cut through the fog blanketing her mind and brought Sara back to herself. She had never wanted to inspire that in anyone. She had been afraid all her life, first of her parents, then Michael Thomas and men like him, then everyone. She had never made anyone afraid of her and it made her physically ill to think that she had roused that emotion in the older woman and she never wanted to see it again.

Cath was still crying as Sara released her wrists. She fell into the younger woman needing to feel her, needing reassurance that their ordeal was truly over and that the brunette was all right. She became aware as her sobs lessened that the lithe woman was saying she was sorry, over and over again. She leaned back and brought her hands up to cup the remarkably untouched face. “It’s okay sweetheart, everything’s all right. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Catherine was forgiving her, how could she after what she had almost done, after everything she had allowed to happen? She searched the blonde’s eyes and saw that the fear was gone, replaced by relief and tenderness. She didn’t deserve it.

Catherine was confused as Sara pushed off her and backed away shaking her head. “Sara what is it? What’s wrong?”

Sara held up her hands to ward the blonde off. She couldn’t be near her, not now, she couldn’t be trusted. “Please Cath, just stay away. You have to stay away from me.”

Catherine wanted to go to her, hold her, take away all her fear and pain. Before she could take a step forward or convince the younger woman to let her help her, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. “Sara look out!”

Following the direction of blonde’s eye at her scream, Sara turned and found herself face to face with a gun. She backed up slowly, trying to put herself between Thomas and Catherine. She hadn’t been able to protect her before, she was going to make sure she did it now, even if it was only for a few seconds.

Cath stared at the gun over Sara’s shoulder. She recognized the Glock 9mm. Of course she ought to, it was her gun she carried nearly every day. He was going to shoot them with her own piece.

“You stupid bitch. You betrayed me for that whoring piece of shit? I was going to make you a queen among the swine of this world. Now you have die, but you’ll watch this slut die first.” Michael was enraged. Sara was supposed to be his mate, the other half of his soul, his perfect woman. Instead she had become his Judas.

Sara turned and pulled Catherine to her, covering her with her own body seconds before an inferno ripped through her shoulder.

TBC