Sara sat in front of her locker, lost in contemplation. Knowing she should get up, get her stuff out of her locker and go home but unable for the moment to muster up the energy. The curve of her back shuddered as she shook only small vibrations down her back, hardly noticeable, or so she hoped. She wasn't crying, she just felt so cold. Cold from the look on the basted's face as they let him go from lack of evidence. Cold like the young women now in the mortuary, alone but for the one person she'd trusted and even she had let her down for money. Her warmth, her blood that pumped around her veins bringing life to flesh had been drained away by other people's greed. Just as Sara's was from the knowledge she had failed.

The main eyewitness refusing to testify and Sara knew, she knew the suspect's family had paid her off. She remembered the anger that had filled her as she connected the dots between the furniture man and the speedily hidden estate brochure for swanky new houses. "How much did he pay you Laura? How much did he pay you that you wouldn't testify for your own colleague who you witnessed raped but can remember her self because she was so drugged up on date rape pills?"

And now she just handed in a report concluding that the all the evidence showed the poor women down stairs had committed suicide. In the eyes of the law no crime had been done. The fact that she had been raped and so brutally beaten four days ago that she had to spend a whole two of those days in hospital had nothing to do with it. That the women who had supported her for all that time had suddenly cut her loose. Choosing money over helping someone was not a convictable crime. At least nothing they could prove. Grissom was wrong sometimes evidence wasn't enough and sometimes there was no evidence at all.

So she had killed her self that was no homicide. The people who had pushed a happy young woman over the edge had no blame.

She had rung her after she found out at the start of shift. That the case had fallen apart with out Laura's testament and the DA had chucked the case out. She was just about to go out on assignment with Warrick but she waited to make the call. She wished now she had told her face-to-face, maybe it would have made a difference. As it was she could tell be her voice on the phone the girl had been broken. It cut through her like a knife; there was nothing she could say. "I'm sorry Megan, there's nothing we can do. It will be ok." Six hours later the report came in of a women who had jumped off the top of her apartment block. Sara had pulled over time to find some evidence, any evidence that Darren had pushed her her rapist or someone working for him there had been none. There had been an authentic suicide note as well. There had been a bit about Sara.

"...Mom I know this wont make sense to you but say thanx to Sara Sidle a Las Vegas CSI she worked on my case, she tried hard. It wertn't her fault the case failed ...."

And so Sara felt cold. In this job, this life she had chosen she couldn't save people. She accepted that, she couldn't bring them back from the dead but she could put them to rest. Give them justice and their family and loved ones peace of mind. Only this time she failed, they'd almost got a conviction. They would have if Laura hadn't changed her mind but that wasn't good enough. Almost meant that a 21-year-old woman felt there was nothing worth living for. Even though she had her whole life ahead. Sara knew the feeling, she lived and remembered and it left her feeling cold.

Almost got what I want

Almost found what I lost

Almost saved you and my self

Almost won

But it doesn't count it never does.

it never does.

One green light

One more ring of the telephone,

One more step

One more second

And I almost

Almost

Tracy Chapman

Let it rain.