Sara starts having flashbacks of her childhood. Takes place after "Committed."
P.S. I love all my faithful viewers *bats eyes*. Okay...fic wise, I am continuing with all my stories, which includes "Daddy's Girl." That was just going to be one chapter, but I am going ahead and writing a few more. This idea, however, I just couldn't get out of my head, so I decided to post it up. The rest I am working on, and they should be up within a couple of days. I've just been slow with Thanksgiving coming up and such : ( But alas, they will be up soon.
And P.S.S. This fic does deal with violence, rape and self-harm. If you disagree with these topics, I suggest that you stop reading now.
Now...on with the fic!
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The cases were always the same, the violence...but the faces...that's what stuck out to her. A little girl huddled in the corner with her only comforting tool: a tattered teddy bear. Bruises are visible, the fear shines brightly in her brown eyes like the afternoon Vegas sun in the Summer, and the worse part upon closer examination: blood, and not just any blood, but blood on her underwear...underwear that should not have blood for a seven-year-old girl...blood that should not be there for at least four more years, and even then...not this kind of blood.
The kind of blood that this was suggesting was the blood that made a woman a woman...the kind of blood that distinguished between a girl and a woman...
...and a little girl was not a woman.
Why she allowed herself to go through these cases, she did not know. And what was worse...she identified with the victims...the ones who lived...the ones that suffered more than the ones who died...
...and they identified with her.
The little girl in question reminded her so much of herself when she was younger...when she was that age: short, brown hair, kept that way because baths were not a regular thing in her house. Scrawny, improperly nourished...the list went on. And the less visible signs sometimes...the bruises, cuts, fractures, breaks...that was what she recognized the most.
Give her any child, and she could tell you if the child was abused or not. Hands down.
And the worse part about it...the absolute worse...the part where only one person would know why her face paled so much upon hearing the child's name...the victim...
Her name was Emilie...spelled exactly the same way that her middle name was...an uncommon spelling, but not unheard of.
But it was enough to freak her out...enough to just about--but not entirely--send her over the edge. However, the only time that she even dared to leave the little girl was when she changed clothes, and they were bagged for evidence...everything on this case being taken with complete precaution, even though no one was left to really sue, and the evidence was all there.
But she kept strong. Emilie may have been a victim, but she was an alive victim, just as she had been, so she had to keep her cool...
...even though, with each passing minute, it became harder and harder to do so...
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...14 Hours Earlier...
"Mommy...Mommy, wake up...Mommy..."
Screams...stabbings...blood...slaps...so many things...so out of order...every word said taken out of context...not able to make heads or tails of the whole situation...darkness falls, hurting her profusely, until there is no more pain...
"Sara? Sara?"
"Sara? Sara!"
Sara Sidle felt a slap on her arm as she shot up, sweat beads pouring down her face, her breathing labored.
As she looked up, she saw a pair of concerned blue eyes...Grissom. Catherine was standing to the left...she saw her when she looked around. And Greg was at the counter, sipping his special brand of coffee.
No one else was there...yet.
"Sara...what is it? What's wrong?"
Sara's ears perked up at that somewhat 'out-of-character' comment that came out of Catherine's mouth. She looked at her with a confused, somewhat insulted look (since she never worried about her like that, before) before swinging her legs over the couch, holding her chest...it was hurting her, a little, to take a breath. She tried to relax, knowing that if she didn't, she'd throw herself into another anxiety attack. It was bound to happen.
None of this would've started up, again, had it not been for Adam Trent, patient at a mental institution. He could've taken her life that night, could've raped her...but she also knew that he didn't...that could've just meant if he had had a longer of an opportunity to do so. But he hadn't.
"Crazy people do make me feel crazy," she had told Grissom that night.
The only one who knew what she meant...the only thing that it could be...the only thing that it was.
He was going to take her off the case, but she told him not to...she thought she could handle it...
...and tonight, she was finally realizing that she couldn't...she that shouldn't have even tried.
"Sara...are you okay?"
Grissom's firm, yet gentle voice brought her back to reality. She looked up at him, staring at him with a very confused look.
"Huh?"
"Sara," Catherine cut in. "When we--" she trailed off. How am I supposed to tell her this? She's always so closed in. Oh well...here goes nothing. "Sara, when we came in here to wait on Nick and Warrick, you were sleeping. You were...talking, or rather...crying, in your sleep."
Sara was embarrassed. Her cheeks immediately turned a crimson red.
Grissom saw this. He knew that Adam Trent might've had something to do with this, but he could also see it in her eyes--the fear, the terror...it also had something else to do with what had happened to her long ago...what had happened to her family, long ago...
...So Grissom covered for her...he'd take up for her, no matter what.
"Cath, give her a break, huh? So what if she had a nightmare? Big deal. It can happen to anyone, especially when crazy people hold knives to your neck." He shot her a glare, telling her to 'zip it', and now...he didn't want Sara upset, not anymore than she was going to be...
Ecklie was supervising tonight...Grissom, that is. He was evaluating his work, therefore he was evaluating the rest of the team's work.
So basically; 'what he says, goes'.
Which sucked if you were Sara Sidle, who had no respect what-so-ever for that man.
Which was why, with the state-of-mind and given mood that she was in, he did not receive a welcoming smile from her as he walked into the room.
She didn't kiss ass...but by the looks of it, including Nick and Warrick who had come in behind him, the rest of her colleagues didn't, either.
"Okay, I'm not one for formalities, so let's just get this over with," Ecklie said, after his brisk walk into their breakroom. He sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand while he read off the first assignment, looking around. "Warrick, Nick...break-in out in Henderson," he said, handing Warrick the slip as they both left without so much as a glance towards him. He shook his head, looking at Catherine. "DB on the strip in an ally...possibly a mugging," he said, handing her the slip. She left, glancing back at Sara and Grissom.
Ecklie stared at her until she walked out, then turned on the two remaining graveyard CSIs. "I really don't like putting you two together, but I'll have to admit that you work well with one-another, so let's just keep that between us, shall we?" Grissom and Sara exchanged confused glances before he went on. "419, possibly the worse since the Collins case," he said, making Sara and Grissom cringe...that one had been the worse. That one had kept Sara up for days...not that that had been tough on her, anyhow...she was used to little sleep...just not that little of it.
Ecklie sighed, shaking his head. "Supposedly, a mother went crazy. It was a family of five...not anymore." He shook his head, once more, in shame. "Only two survivors...the little girl is at the scene, shaken up." That was when he'd turned to Sara. "I know how well you connected with Brenda Collins, so I was...well..." Boy, did he hate asking for favors...
...So Sara finished his request for him.
"You were wondering if I'd take over, and look after the little girl."
"Exactly," he said, nodding his head, not noticing the worried look that Gil was giving Sara, especially from her near anxiety attack just a few moments before.
But Sara needed something to do, and since she noted that that was the last slip of paper that he held, a hard case was better than no case...right?
"Well, I guess I'll say yes, then," she said with her slow draw, looking a bit nervously at Gil before looking back at Ecklie, a little curious, now.
"What's the victim's name?" She didn't want to become attached, but she needed to know this, especially if she was going to be able to gather evidence and receive information.
Ecklie looked down at the slip, replying before handing the slip to Gil:
"Emilie Schroeder."
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Okay...so it may be a bit..."off," I should say, especially given that I've been in weird moods as of late :)
But thank you, my loyal minions, uh...did I just say that? Hehe. Just kidding. But anyways, click that little box below to tell me how you liked my story and then you will be magically whisked away into another realm...just watch out for evil trolls :O
Again, just kidding...weird mood, I told ya.
Anyways...I hoped that everyone enjoyed this as I did writing it...more to come, soon, especially in my other fics.
~**~CSISaraSidle72~**~