a/n: Might as well warn you here, there is a bit of implied femslash and character death. This is dark and angsty. You've been warned.
disclaimer: These characters are not mine, never have been mine, and never will be mine. They belong to CBS.
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.
It was one of the few things I remember my father telling me when I was younger. It's amazing how things from your childhood still hold true when you get older, even simple rhymes.
I suppose where I am is my own fault. No one would have ever thought the workaholic Sara Sidle would willingly go home right after shift. But I can't go back. Not after what happened.
Requesting a transfer would be easier. So would quitting, moving, switching shifts… but since when have I taken the easy way? When has anything ever been easy for me?
In a way, I guess that explains why I fell in love with her. I knew it'd be a challenge. She hated my guts. Catherine was an enigma, one that I desperately wanted to unravel. I could focus on physical attraction, but what's the point when there is so much more of a connection. A deeper one.
At least I thought there was. There lies my first mistake. I felt something she didn't. I really thought it was mutual, that's the worst part. Even CSI's misinterpret evidence sometimes though. It always leads to the same result too, pain. Be it a wrongful conviction, dismissal of a case, or a broken heart, it all hurts.
I screwed up royally on this one. But who can blame me? A truce was finally called to our incessant fighting and we became tentative friends. Things started changing. We grew closer by the day. It got to the point where on our days off, we were always together. And I had to go get my damn hopes up.
Hope is what will kill me in the end. That one ray of hope, that hope leading me to the stupidest act in the world. I kissed Catherine. Beautiful, smart, straight Catherine. She stared at me for what seemed like an eternity before saying the two words that still ring in my head.
"Get out"
See, if my life were like a movie, this would have been the point where she realized that she was madly in love with me. We would ride off into the sunset a happy couple, our desire for each other overcoming every obstacle in our path. Unfortunately, my life isn't a television show and Cath wasn't sending any declarations of affection my way.
That kiss was the first time I lost the inner battle with my feelings. She didn't speak to me, look at me, or even work the same case as me for weeks after. I felt a bigger piece of me die the longer she stayed away.
As much as Grissom wanted to avoid it, he eventually had to put us on a case together. We had to interact, but that was as far as it went. There was no love there, not even friendship. Where familiarity once lay, there was now civility and nothing more.
There's only so much a person can take. I pride myself on being stronger than anyone I know, given what I went through as a child. But seeing the one person you truly love pretend like you don't exist? It sucks. Eventually you lose hope. Eventually you give up.
I tried again today, one last time. It was a boring paperwork day; a single B & E required only Nick and Warrick's attention. The rest of us trudged along in the monotony of filing and cold cases.
By some minor miracle, Catherine and I ended up in the same lab. It was almost like old times. Emphasis on the almost. The terse silence stretched on for hours upon hours. At the end of shift, I slowly walked to the locker room. Somewhere during my hours of quiet, I had decided that today was it. There was no use continuing this if she just didn't care about me.
As I packed my bags, the object of my thoughts entered the room and began to mirror my activities. I began gathering all the willpower I could muster. Softly, I called her name.
She began turning, and I quickly walked over and kissed her for the second and final time of my miserable existence. For those few seconds, I was in heaven. But all my joy was shattered when she pulled away and looked me in the eye.
"Sara, I don't love you."
With those words, she successfully demolished what little of me remained. I turned on my heels and bolted through the door.
So here I sit, staring into the mirror, thinking about what I'm going to do. I remember why it's necessary. I want her to be happy. I know what I've done makes her unhappy. I know she wishes we were still friends, that I'd never acted on my impulses in the first place. I can't go back in time. But I'll do the next best thing.
I'll remove myself from the equation.