Summary - Sara tries to come to terms with the fact that Neal is gone. Tag to episode, 3x16, 'Judgment Day', Sara centric.
Author's Note - I know there are quite a few post 'Judgment Day' stories around, but being a huge Sara fan I wanted to write my own. And I wanted to explore some of what Sara may have been thinking and feeling once she discovered that Neal's on the run. I have taken some liberties in Sara's past and in her background to enhance the story.
Special thanks to my awesome beta-reader lstuds.
The taste of your kiss is a bittersweet memory
Sara Ellis likes to win. She always has. She is single-minded and completely focused on her goals. She knows that the sweet taste of victory is always satisfying. She always wins in the end. She makes sure of that.
She is competitive and ambitious. She always strives for perfection. She wants to be the best that she can be. This has been ingrained into her nature. She has her absentee parents to thank for that. It was how she was brought up; with strict rules and challenging expectations. And she realizes that while she didn't always appreciate it growing up, she can accept that it's served her well. It was her determined attitude is that drove her forward through her college years; she'd continued on with her studies while mourning for her lost family.
The 'no-nonsense, no-getting-attached' approach she'd adopted through her college experience is something she's carried with her through her adulthood. She has become the career-orientated girl with the non-existent social life. It's less complicated that way. It's simpler, safer, and it's controlled and comforting. She'd vowed never to get hurt and left behind again.
Fortunately, in her line of work, the recovery of an invaluable possession and the excitement and accomplishment of solving another case is something that never fails to exhilarate her. It's her career that motivates her. It is that additional check in the box, another satisfied customer, a happy boss, and a fat commission check that has spurred her on for a very long time. And, for the most part, it is fun, rewarding, and it's made her days pass by in a whirl of intrigue.
However, recently she has also come to realize that the feeling of success and accomplishment is short lived and fleeting. It seems like an empty endeavour when there is no one left to share it with.
She can only blame one person for the change in her focus. And she puts it down to the moment Neal Caffrey, and his world, blew back into her life. With her ex-boyfriend, and a new group of friends and acquaintances, her life seems to have shifted in its purpose. Now, once again, she is invested in those around her. So much so that she's spent the best part of the last two days helping to protect the very man that six years ago she wanted to see lock away.
She gets the phone call from Peter Burke sometime late in the afternoon. From the fraught tone of the man's voice she knows immediately that he isn't the bearer of good news. And for a moment, she really tries to believe that Neal's hearing simply didn't go as well as they had all hoped for. Maybe Neal would go on to spend the remaining couple of years 'on-anklet', and she thinks maybe that wouldn't be so terrible. It would mean going on as they all had before, and that would be okay. She can prepare for that.
What she can't prepare for is the heart stopping news the older man calls to deliver. The words spilling from Peter's lips quite literally make Sara's breath catch up in her throat.
'Neal's gone. He cut off his anklet. He ran. He had no other choice.'
Peter's explanations travel the distance of the phone line. His words dance through her bewildered mind. She truly can't believe what she's hearing. The lengths Agent Kramer was taking to get to Neal were unimaginable. As were the actions and decisions those around her were being forced into making. Peter Burke, who she's come to respect since their time investigating Neal and the stolen Raphael back in 2005, probably never contemplated what he's just had to do.
Sara cradles the cell to her ear. Once her initial shock subsides, she begins to take in more of the details Peter is supplying. He warns her that Kramer may come after her too, but she doesn't care. It's the first time in this ill-fated conversation that she feels her ballsy nature raising its head, and that inner strength offers her a glimpse of comfort.
She tells Peter that she understands, and that she'll watch her back. She offers to help him in any way she can. She informs him that she's fine when he directs his concerns toward her. She's a strong woman, and that's what she tells Peter and herself before she ends the call.
Then she sits there, staring blankly around at her large, bright office space. She tries to organize her thoughts, to process what she's just learned. Her eyes soon flicker to the Raphael in front of her.
The priceless work of art is quite the prize. She's chased after it relentlessly, spending more late nights working at this desk than she cares to remember. She'd gone after him hard. She'd focused every ounce of energy and determination she had to recover this painting. And six years ago, it had stung when she had come out of her pursuit empty-handed, and Sterling Bosch had needed to pay out for the painting.
Yesterday, 'Saint George and the Dragon' was delivered right into the palm of her hand by the very man who'd stolen it in the first place. She'd gotten the coveted Raphael back, and that victory had tasted as sweet as the kisses from Neal's lips.
Sara pushes herself up and out of the chair. She acknowledges that Neal Caffrey has charmed her all over again. She's let him in, and they're growing closer than ever. He's confiding in her. He's supplying her with buried truths, treasured secrets, and tales of a mysterious and wondrous past. Now, she knows exactly what the Raphael had meant to him, and why he stole it in the first place. And she can't look at it.
She's only ever wanted honesty from him, and that's what he's finally started to give her. She swallows hard and turns away from the painting; despite her better judgment, she is falling for him all over again. She knows she is, and right now she can't help but feel foolish, and abandoned, and a whole lot of other emotions she'd much rather not be feeling right now.
She can't be here. She needs fresh air and a chance to clear her head. She plucks her over-sized purse up from its resting place beside her desk and walks purposefully towards the glass doors.
She strides out of the offices and steps into the elevator. As she hits the button and travels to the ground floor, her mind is already planning to spend the next few hours numbing her pain and confusion with copious amounts of scotch, while sitting on the balcony of her apartment and watching the fading sun sink down into the dark depths of the city.
She hails a cab right outside of Sterling Bosch's towering building, but her Park Slope apartment isn't where she finds she wants to go to. Instead, she impulsively decides to ride to June's mansion tucked in the heart of Manhattan. The drive is seemingly shorter than she recalls. She's staring out of the taxi's window as the extravagant white building comes into view. She pays the cab driver and climbs out of the taxi, but she isn't really focusing on anything other than the turmoil she's attempting to keep buried within her soul.
The housekeeper soon invites Sara into the lavish house, stating that June isn't home. And as Sara walks up the stairs, and along the quiet, winding hallways, she wonders if Neal's sweet and loyal landlady already knows that her tenant has fled the country.
Sara knocks softly on his door; it's a foolish gesture on her part because she already knows no one's home. But she supposes she does it out of habit and respect. And perhaps because she won't believe he's gone until she sees an empty apartment with her very own eyes. She's secretly thinking and wishing that they're all wrong and he'll answer the door to her.
The seconds tick by in silence, and with a resounding sigh she finally pushes the door open. His apartment is quiet, void of all sound and movement. The fading rays of sunlight dance across the glass of the terrace doors. The day is ending, slowly giving way to the shadows of the night.
Sara steps into the room, her heels clacking against the wooden floor. She feels a little awkward being here. Her steps echo through the still kitchen area. She sets her purse down on the table and looks around. The living space appears to be exactly how he's always left it; his possessions, books, and paints are all present, and neatly organized. His half-finished sketch is waiting on the easel. The whole room looks as though nothing's changed. It's as if Neal's simply out at work and that he's planning to come back after a long day.
It's strange; though she guesses it's because he was in a hurry and didn't have time to put his affairs in order.
Sara moves over to the counter, retrieving a glass from the cupboard. She then reaches for an untouched bottle of wine and uncorks the bottle with a slightly unsteady hand.
The fateful morning, sixteen years earlier, when she'd woken up to discover her sister, Cynthia, had run away creeps into the forefront of her mind before she can stop it. Sara remembers tiptoeing into her older sister's room. Cynthia and their father had fought for what seemed like hours the night before. Her father and sister had fought before, many times, but nothing like this. Sara hadn't slept much, trying to block out the angry, raised voices with her pillow. When their yelling had finally stopped, Sara had managed to fall into an uneasy sleep; though at the first rays of daylight, she'd crept out of bed. She'd wanted to check on her sibling.
That time, standing in the middle of her sister's empty room, was so very different. Sara could tell immediately that something was wrong. The bedroom was left in a complete state of disarray; Cynthia's closet hung wide open and most of her clothes were missing. They had been packed away, along with some of her most treasured possessions. Her stuffed toy pony, a picture taken from a family trip to the Grand Canyon, and the journal kept hidden under the mattress were all gone.
Sara bites her lower lip to stop the tears from falling. It was as if Cynthia, though desperate to get away, had wanted to take a part of her life along with her; like she hadn't wanted to forget. And Sara wants to believe that there are some parts of Neal's life that he'd want to hold on to. That he had found some good in his new life, and that he would want to treasure some of the memories he's made. She hopes that he doesn't want to completely forget her; or Peter, and Elizabeth, and all those individuals who have come to care for him over the past couple of years.
She pours herself a glass of wine and trails over to the couch. She idly wonders if she means as much to Neal as he's starting to mean to her. She doesn't think it really matters anymore, and she pushes the thought as far back into her mind as she can. She can't help but feel mad at herself for falling under his spell all over again. After all, it was just a few of months ago that she'd discovered his hidden treasure.
Sinking down onto the couch, she kicks off her heels and tucks her feet beneath her. She takes a large sip of the tangy drink before she sets down the wineglass with a clink on the coffee table. The quiet sight in front of her, and the cold realization that she's been left behind once again, hits her hard.
She knows now, more than ever, that this is a part of Neal's life. Being Neal Caffrey means being able to up and leave without a moment's hesitation. He has to be able to cut the ties and move on because that is who he is, and it's necessary for his salvation. And, she supposes, in some ways they are very similar. Sara may not be running from the law, but she's been running from herself, her past, and hiding from her pain for far too long. She's cut herself off from everyone before, and she fears she may very well do it again in the wake of Neal's disappearance.
Neal had no choice but to leave New York City; she understands that, and she's trying really hard to accept it. He's been trying to be a good man; she's seen that from him. He has changed. And he deserves much better than whatever terrible fate Agent Kramer had in store for him in Washington D.C. She can accept that he needed to go, that he needed to act quickly in order to preserve his own salvation. She wishes him only the best. She hopes that he's safe, and she's truly glad that he has Mozzie by his side because they've seen each other through the thick and the thin. And because being alone, and running, is a lonely fate that he doesn't deserve.
Sara stretches her long legs out in front of her and she rests her head on the cushions behind her. She thinks back to the therapy sessions her father had insisted she go to as she closed herself off from everyone after Cynthia disappeared. She remembers staring up at white ceilings every Friday morning, the therapist, Dr. Sheila Martin, plying her with question after question to begin with. Sara would answer what she wanted to, and she evaded anything that seemed too difficult and too personal. Then, as the sessions wore on, and Sara remained detached, Dr. Martin asked less of her never-ending and probing questions, leaving Sara to spend the best part of the hour laying in silence.
Sara had broken that silence one rainy October morning and asked Dr. Martin the one question she knew her therapist couldn't answer. The one question no one other than Cynthia could probably answer. Why?
Why had Cynthia left? Why had Sara been left behind without even a goodbye?
The questions that followed Sara through her teenaged years are the same ones that persist in her mind today. And it's why he hadn't said goodbye to her. And she supposes she already knows that answer; he was rushed into making his decision. He'd needed to act, and he hadn't had the chance to say goodbye to her or anyone else. But she can't let go of the fact that Cynthia left her without a word, and she's been left wondering why for the best part of her life. And now Neal has done the same thing.
And as she takes another large sip of the wine, she wonders if she would have gone along with him if he'd asked this time. When she'd woken up this morning and had gone into work early to look at the Raphael she guesses she felt like she was beginning a new lease of life. She'd giddily and foolishly even planned surprising Neal with dinner and wine. And it wouldn't have mattered if he'd won his freedom or not because she'd begun to allow herself to wonder if she and Neal might have had a shot at a future together.
If he had had the time to come to her, would he have asked her to come along? He'd considered asking her before when they were still together. She allows herself to wonder whether the idea of taking her along with him had played on his mind before he ran.
She sighs and reaches for the wine. She downs the remaining contents in the glass and then pours another. She isn't angry; not really. She suspects he didn't have the time to contact her. Or maybe he was trying to protect her by not getting her involved any further. She's sad that she's been left behind again. She can't help but feel that way. This, being left by the people she loves, has happened to her too often. The pain hurts just as much as it did when she was thirteen-years-old. In the dimly lit room, her mind whirls with all the same un-answered questions that she'd had after Cynthia had gone.
Sara's not sure how long she's been resting, curled up on Neal's couch. Her sleep is troubled and interrupted. The shadows and the cool night air have crept into the room. Her head is light from too much wine, and as she opens and blinks her lashes, she guesses she dozed off. She reaches the palm of her hand up to her face. Her cheeks are slightly damp, and she knows she's cried for him. She's going to really miss him; she admits that to herself and to the silence that surrounds her.
She honestly doesn't know what she's going to do next and she hasn't felt this way in a long time. The feeling scares her somewhat, but she knows she'll be all right. She'll find her way forward; she always does. She pulls herself up into a seated position, smoothing down her hair. She decides she should head home. She can't do anything else here except sit and wait. Walking back over to the table, she quickly gathers her things. She remembers her father telling her many-a-time when she was growing up that success and victory always come at a price. It certainly seems her father's wisdom is proven correct today. The victory of getting the Raphael was short lived, as was regaining her connection with Neal. Now he's gone without a trace, and she doesn't know if he's coming back.
Sara pushes that sad thought away and pulls on her jacket. She closes her eye lids shut and takes a deep breath. She tells herself it is okay.
The chiming of her cell phone has her lashes flutter back open. She turns sharply and her eyes gaze at the object still lying on the coffee table. The number shown on the glowing handset isn't one she recognizes. It doesn't take her dazed mind long to deduce who is calling her. She steps forward and reaches for the cell. Her nervous fingers curl around the object. As she presses the button to accept the call, she has no idea what she should be thinking or what she is going to say to him.
Okay, so I'd always intended to just write Sara's reactions to Neal's leaving but as I wrote the story and came to this point I have swayed back and forth on whether to leave it as it is or whether to write a conversation between them. And I thought I'd let you guys decide; would you like a part two or would you prefer their conversation to be left to the imagination? I am happy to write a follow up chapter or leave it as it is. Let me know.
Either way thanks for reading.