Another Sidle to the story, Chapter 1
Description: This is a CSI fanfic, all about the geeklove!
A/N: I don't know how many chapters it will be, depends on the muze! It's my first online fic, so please R&R! Uh... Anything else? Ah sure! Hope you'll enjoy it and forgive me the typo's. English is not my native language, but I tried to do the best I could!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sara, Grissom, Catherine or any of the other characters. They are owned by Anthony Zuiker and his clan! I do not make, nor do I wish to make, any profit through this fanfic. I'm just a fan, and the story below is what I would like to see happen between my two favorite characters!
If everything seems to be going well, you obviously don't know what the hell is going on!
(One of Murphy's Laws)
The girl in the picture was very young, eight at the most. She smiled widely at him, but something in her eyes didn't seem to match that smile. There was pain in those eyes.
This girl had been through a lot, more then some people went through in a lifetime.
This girl had seen hurt, anger, despair, fear, blood, tears, abuse and death.
This girl had had bruises on her arms and legs on more then one occasion.
This girl had seen worse injuries on others.
Grissom had picked the picture off of the locker-room floor, not realizing who's it was or what it stood for as he did. As soon as he took one glance at the girl in the picture however, he knew who he was looking at. Thirty years hadn't changed the smile, which was still decorated by a small gap between two front teeth.
Judging by the picture, even in her early childhood Sara Sidle had been the queen of hidden emotions.
He had never grasped the whole of the situation. Of course she had told him about her past not too long ago, filling in the blanks on why she would lose her temper every once in a while, and why she had a hard time dealing with cases on domestic violence.
It had always seemed to him as though the years had softened the edges on the harsh memories that were permanently in Sara's mind. She had been very professional more often than not, he had even seen her smile.
Now he realized that if you have seen as much as she had at age eight, you never fully recover. It keeps haunting you for the rest of your life, from the moment you wake up, until the moment you fall asleep.
Your every move and thought is poisoned by the remains of memories from so long ago.
First the agony of dealing with an abusive father day in, day out. Watching him beat the crap out of your mother, who is no longer capable of loving anyone, because she had to shut out all her feelings to endure. Feeling the seering pain as his fists pound into your arms, your legs, your stomach.
Vomiting, bleeding, hunger, an aching body, head to toes. But all he did to you is nothing compared to the things he did to your mother. Twisting her arm to her back until it breaks, slamming her head into the door until she passes out, hitting her so hard in the face you have to cook because she can't see.
Then, the knowledge of your mother being a murderer. The only answer she had to an abusive alcoholic was to grab that knife and stab him. As they are taking your mother into custody, a nice woman, whose name you won't remember afterwards, takes you away.
Years of fostercare. Being swung from one family to the next, not being able to love or be loved. Too painful. Your mother in a mental home. Weekly visits, no more often than that.
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Suddenly Grissom realized someone was standing right behind him. He turned around, and when he saw it was Sara his face turned to a deep crimson color.
"What are you doing with my picture?" she asked with a very sad voice.
"I picked it up off the floor." he replied quietly.
He saw the same look in her eyes that she had when the picture was taken. How could he not have seen that in all the time he'd known her? How could he not have realized what toll her childhood must have taken on her?
As if that weren't enough, she had been through quite a lot as an adult as well. When she had freaked out at a murder suspect, he had only asked her if she was okay. When she had been pulled over for DUI he had taken her home. When she had been attacked only recently he had merely taken her word for it when she had said she was fine.
But Sara Sidle wasn't fine. Sara Sidle hadn't been fine for a long while, maybe not ever.
He handed the picture back to Sara. "You need to talk to me about this."