Summary: Sara takes a look at an instant when she was sixteen.
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI at all.
Sara looked up at the desk as she and Greg walked out of one of interrogation rooms. She saw a young girl with waist long brown hair walking to the desk. As they got closer, she heard the conversation.
"Hi," the girl couldn't be more than sixteen years old.
"Hi," the person at the desk greeted. "What can I do for you?"
"Um, I need to know where to pay to get someone out," she answered.
The person at the desk looked at her, "How old are you, Miss."
"Sixteen," she replied. "My name's Angela Callings. I am here for my brother, Michael Callings."
Sara stopped, this all brought back her past back to her. The next question and the answer would really through her back.
"What's he in for?" the man asked.
"Drug use," Angela replied, looking a little ashamed.
Sara just stared at her shoes.
A sixteen year old Sara Sidle rolled over in bed, getting up and making her way through the house to get the offending object that her foster parents once again refused to answer.
"Yeah?" she answered.
"Hey Sar," the voice said and she made a disapproving face.
"What do you need, Jonathan? I have school tomorrow," she told the person on the other end of the phone.
"Well, I seem to be in a little bind," he started.
"How much is it going to cost me?" she asked, without even letting him finish.
"Well, it's not exactly cheap," he was beating around the bush and she wasn't too happy with it.
"Would you just tell me what you need?" she snapped at him.
"Fine, I need you to get me out of jail," he answered.
"What!? How… That take's money. Money to get you out and money to get me their," she made screamed, not caring if she woke the other people in the house.
"Come on, Sar, I'm your brother," he begged.
"Yeah, my brother that just left a year ago and I never hear from. Until now, of course, since you need something," she replied.
"Please, you can drive down Saturday, stay the night, and then drive back Sunday. Then, you wouldn't even have to miss school," he informed her.
"Fine," she caved, "I'll see in two days."
She hung up the phone after getting the information she needed and then went back into her room, pulling out the tin can that kept the little money she had. It would have to do.
Two days later she was sitting in one of the car's that Mary-Ann, her foster mom, said she could borrow.
"You'll be home tomorrow?" Mary-Ann asked.
"Yes Ma'am," She responded. "I'll see you then."
"Okay," Mary-Ann said and Sara rolled up the window and drove down the driveway.
She had a good four hour drive ahead of her, which meant that the first bit of her hard earned money was going to be flying out the window. She sighed as she leaned back in the seat, "Why did I agree to this?"
Four and a half hours later, she pulled up in front of the precinct her brother had told her and got out of the car.
Running up the steps, she entered and walked to the front desk. The man looked up at her and smiled, "Hello. What can I do for you?"
"Hi, I'm Sara Sidle. I, uh, need to pay for my brother to get out," she answered, not actually sure what she say.
"Okay, we'll get that handled," the man smiled and instructed her of what to do.
Three hours later, her and her brother were seated at a near by restaurant.
"Thanks, I owe ya," he told her and she rolled her eyes.
"No, you don't," she scoffed.
"You just got me out of jail, Sara," he said like she was stupid.
"Oh and guess what, you'll be back before the end of the month," she snapped.
"What makes you think that?" he looked indignant.
"That's how you are, Jon. God, you don't get it. You left, without a thought in the world about me. You ran off here with some of your friends. Then, a year and a half later, you call me to get you out of jail. Jon, you were in there for drug use. I'm not stupid; I know that's why you left so fast. You thought you could get away with it if you didn't have Mary-Ann and Paul breathing down your neck," she stood up and threw her trash into the garbage can.
"Sara," he started, following her.
"Save it," she sighed as she started to her car, him on her heels.
"You don't have the right to judge me like that," he said once in the car and on the road.
"I can judge you any way I wish to," she informed him. "Plus, I'm not judging you, I know from experience."
"Come on, I can't be back in a month. I have a probation officer," he started but was interrupted by Sara's laughing.
"Sorry," she apologized without really meaning it.
Jon gave up the conversation, "You're staying tonight, right?"
"Do I have a choice? I mean really, what girl wouldn't refuse staying and being hit on all night," she said sarcastically.
"They're not that bad," Jon tried to excuse his two roommates.
"Uh-huh, I'm out of here by noon tomorrow. If you are good boys I might even pick you up some necessities of life, like food and hygiene products," she teased.
"Thanks, mother," he clenched his teeth in frustration that his little sister was acting like his mother.
"If you grew up, I wouldn't have to act like your mother," Sara snarled at him.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered
"Hey, Sara," Greg's voice brought Sara back to reality. "You coming?"
"Yeah," smiled as she walked over to him, he was at the door waiting for her. "Where are we going?"
"I'm thinking breakfast," he answered.
"I'm thinking that that's a wonderful idea," she agreed as they headed out of the building.
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