Natalie Davis created miniatures, committed murders and ultimately abducted Sara. The question is why? Rated M for adult content. Spoilers for Season 7. My first fic, so please read and review. No flames, please. Feel free to redirect anger elsewhere.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, if I did, my life would be very different.
It was over.
Well, more like it was supposed to be over. Natalie Davis had promised him that she was finished with what he called her "crusades." She was finished with her miniature scenes and the murders that accompanied them. She had sent her message to the world and she now felt lighter, stronger. Her point had been made; she had let the world know that they were wrong about her. That everyone was wrong about her.
Natalie had always kept her promises to Ernie, her foster father. He was the man that she considered her true father, her savior. She may not have always been honest and truthful with him, but she always tried to make him happy, make him proud of her. But now, that didn't matter anymore. Her obligations to Ernie died when he fired a bullet through his skull for her. Because of her. Now, the only thing she could focus on, the only thing driving her to breathe, was the fact that she had to destroy the man that killed Ernie. The man that had devastated her life. That man is Gil Grissom.
You Were Wrong.
That was Natalie's message that she thought she had successfully sent to the world through her craft, her crusades, her miniatures. Natalie wanted to make sure the world knew that she was worth keeping. She wanted her father to know he was wrong about her- that giving her away like some used toy, like one of his old broken dolls, all because of her was wrong. It was always about her. Chloe. Natalie's sister Chloe had always been able to capture all of her father's attentions. As a matter of fact, she had everyone's attention. She was the type of child that adults were enamored by. She had a light about her that drew people to her. Chloe and her father would sing and laugh together. They would put on little skits to entertain their friends and family. It was just adorable to those watching. It was sweet how her father, The Great Rainone, had even named one of his ventriloquist dolls after Chloe. Natalie was not included in outward showing of affection.
It was always about her.
Natalie was left out. She was left out of the laughter, the love. That is what disturbed Natalie the most. It was what had made her the angriest and unhinged her down to her core. She could feel the resentment pulse through her veins, pounding through her head. Ever since she was little, Natalie could feel the rage of her perceived injustices surging through her. When some bias would be inflicted upon Natalie the lights in her world would go dim and become muted in color and tone. Her vision would become blurred and she could only watch her problems slow down to a crawl in front of her. For Natalie, it was like watching scrambled cable TV in a hotel room. If she looked hard enough, things looked familiar but also so foreign. In the beginning, Chloe was the catalyst of these "episodes."
It had been a beautiful summer day. It was Natalie's birthday and she was so excited. It was finally going to be her opportunity to shine in her father's eyes. She had spent weeks working on her own act with one of her father's old ventriloquist dummies and she was ready to entertain all of her friends and family. She wanted to take Chloe's place at her father's side. She had practiced her father's signature, a song about a little bisque doll.
"I've got a pain in my sawdust
That's what's the matter with me.
Something is wrong with my little insides.
I'm just as sick as can be…"
Natalie was in their tree house, rehearsing her song in front of Chloe. She was hoping that her sister would help her to refine her song, to hone it, so it would be perfect. This was going to be her big moment in the sun. But instead, Chloe had ignored her. She was to busy showing off, calling attention to herself, waving and doing a little dance at the entrance to the tree house. Everyone loved her. To Natalie, what happened next was Chloe's fault. It was, in Natalie's eyes, an accident. Something just came over Natalie and she calmly looked at Chloe and then looked down at her father. He looked up at Chloe with such love and pride, a look that he never shared with Natalie. And that was when Natalie gave Chloe a shove, right out of the tree house and onto the pavement. Natalie wanted to hurt Chloe, make her pay for upstaging her, but she didn't mean to kill her. However, when she looked down at Chloe's lifeless body, blood slowly oozing from her head onto the sidewalk, she felt something. She watched as Chloe's head wound was making a crimson pool on the sidewalk and she felt good. It felt like she had been holding a breath for far too long and was finally able to let it go.
But once again, it was all about her. Natalie watched as her father and all of the partygoers, her partygoers, rushed to Chloe's side and once again, people were looking past Natalie, through her. It wasn't fair. It was supposed to be her day and it ended up being all about Chloe. Again.
After everyone left the scene; the police and her guests, the coroner took Chloe's body away. The only evidence left of her; of the day's events, was a crimson stain on the sidewalk. Natalie's father was trying desperately to clean the child's blood away, without success. He just kept pouring more and more bleach on the stain, making it larger. He was scrubbing the porous concrete on his hands and knees with straight bleach. The thick smell of iron mixed with the pungent stinging bleach forever burned that afternoon into Natalie's mind. From that point forward, Natalie would forever equate bleach with the cutting pain of rejection and abandonment.
That was the last day she remembered with her father.
This is my first fic so I would appreciate reviews. Thanks for reading!