Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to CSI. I only own the characters Samantha, Annie, and Zoe. I don't own the song at the beginning...that belongs to the talented Racheal Yamagata.
A/N: Hey guys. I know that I have two other stories to finish and stuff, but I kept getting writers block with Stolen Identity and I just haven't felt compelled to write anything for An End Has a Start. Every time I would sit and try to write for either of the two, this would keep trying to escape my mind. I hope you like it and please let me know what you think in a review! Thanks!
And it'll be just as quiet
when I leave
as it was
when I first got here.
I don't expect anything,
I don't expect anything...
Take care.
I've been hurt before.
Too much time spent
on closing doors.
You may hate me,
but I'll remember to love you.
Goodbye,
don't cry.
You know why.
And it'll be just as quiet
when I leave
as it was
when I first got here.
I don't expect anything,
I don't expect anything...
All the waves of blame arrange as broken scenery,
As they steal your best memories away.
What if I was someone different in your only history?
Would you feel the same
as I walk out the door?
Never to see your face again;
Never to see your face again.He stood in the doorway to the room; the door ajar
He stood in the doorway to the room; the door ajar. The light from the hallway glittered the floor of the room and the light from the moon shone through the window above her bed. She was sleeping and peaceful. She looked young, younger than her five years, and looked beautiful. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and shallow. She had her right arm placed above her head while her left was hugging her doll.
He had created this beautiful little girl and yet he felt a twinge of regret; he had no memory of her birth. He had no memory of the wonderful years she had spent growing prior. He knew so little and yet so much about her. Her eyes were her mother's, her lips, her nose, even her beautiful blonde hair, all her mother's. But he knew, he knew that when she laughed, that smile was all his. Each time she looked at him that smile that he had seen reflected from his own face, his heart swelled. He momentarily stopped breathing and yet did not notice.
He knew how much she loved to draw. She always said she wanted to be just like Van Gogh. She always was coloring and lugging around her pencil box. He and his wife had given her the magnificent display of every colored pencil in the imagination last Christmas. He had missed the smile, the way her eyes lit up once the wrapping was gone and the present revealed. He knew in his heart that he would never get to witness that moment except through the lens of a video camera.
She loved to sing. Her voice wasn't that great, but she still loved singing. She would put on shows for her dolls in the privacy of her room, and demand that her performances not to be disturbed. She would wear the pink ballerina costume her mother had given to her and she would spin around her room like a ballerina, her long blonde hair floating behind her. Her eyes would close tight and she would hum a tune only she could hear while the world around her temporarily disappeared.
He wanted so desperately to cling to these memories, not knowing if tomorrow they would be gone. He wanted to go hug her and kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. He wanted to tell her he would always love her.
He knew he couldn't. He didn't want to disturb his Sleeping Beauty.
He quietly backed away and closed the door. He turned around and found the other door he was looking for. The bright pink name displayed beautifully on the door.
He pushed it open just as quietly as he had closed the other door. He walked in silently and approached the white wood crib. Inside he found a wonderful sleeping angel. His angel. Her dark curly hair was strewn about and contrasted so differently from her sister's. He knew it was his hair.
She laid on her right side, facing him. She had her left thumb in her mouth and her other cuddled with her stuffed lamb. She was wearing those footsie pajamas, pink with cows jumping over moons on them. They had those anti-slip feet bottoms. She was still learning how to walk.
The moonlight that had lit his other daughter's face was absent from this one's, but she still looked just as beautiful.
Yet again his heart ached knowing he had missed so much of her life. He had missed her first steps, her first words, and her first beautiful laugh.
A tear leaked out of his eye as he knew that he would miss her future as well. All this would end soon and he would never see her face light up again when she smiled. He would never get to console her when she was upset. He would never get to see her big blue eyes staring at him again.
She was such an amazing person and had so much personality, he felt so glad to know that it was he who had created her.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the mess of curls that claimed her head. She didn't stir and he knew she wouldn't.
He walked backwards toward the door of her bedroom, memorizing everything about that moment. The way the walls were painted pink and how the hard wood floor beneath him felt against his bare feet. He inhaled the smell of baby powder that scented the room.
He closed the door quietly and began to walk to the final room.
He pushed open the door and the sight that befell him was one he knew would stay with him no matter what happened.
In the large bed laid his wife; his beautiful wife. He had been so scared at first to call her that, but now he never wanted to call her anything else.
She laid on the right side of the bed; her side. Her silky blonde hair looked like gold sparkling on the white pillow case. She was on her back with her left arm over her stomach. He knew she slept like that because she was used to holding his hand as he slept spooned behind her.
He walked over to a chair situated next to the bed and sat. He rested his head on his hands which were supported by his knees. His gaze never left her.
He had been stupid all those years ago. He knew that now. She was the half of him that had been missing in all his life. She was the puzzle piece that completed his heart.
Her skin was fair and unmarked, her lips were like blooming rose petals, soft and pliant. He nose was small and upturned and her cheeks were slightly puffy, making her appear younger than her 31 years. Her eyes were the color of the sky after a rain storm; gray with a tint of blue. Her neck was long and slender and he knew she giggled whenever he kissed or nuzzled her there.
He noticed her chest rise and fall as she breathed and for the first time in his life, he looked at a women's chest without sexual agenda behind it. He watched as it rose and then fell back down with each breath. It was ironic that all his life he had been taught that if a person was breathing, they were alive. He looked at her now and knew that she wasn't real. She was breathing, but all this was a fantasy. It was a fantasy that was going to end very soon. He had been living this life for the past five months and now it was all about to be ripped away from him. He didn't know when it would happen, but he knew it would. Would he remember any of this? Would he remember that night they had celebrated the Forth of July and Annie and Zoe had been in complete awe of the fireworks he had lit for them? Would he remember the night he had first made love to Samantha? Would he remember that day when Annie had finally trusted him enough to hug him and tell him she loved him? Would he remember feeling his masculinity being taken away the first time he had ever played Barbies with his little girls? Would he even remember the sound of Samantha's voice every time she told him she loved him?
He rose as thoughts of what he hoped he could remember drifted throughout his head. He pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his jeans. He pulled the fluffy comforter of his bed back and slipped under. He took Sam into his arms and she unconsciously rested her head against his chest, her hand moving to hold his that was wrapped around her shoulder. He leaned down and placed what could be his last kiss to her hair and finally drifted off to sleep.