A/N: Update! Yes, I am still alive, and surprisingly, this story is alive too! I know, only 15 reviews for the past 3 chapters, but hey, it could've been worse! This was written months after the last chapter, and I'm not sure if this is going where I had intended it to go when I wrote the last chappie, but hey, we'll just wait and see! Warning: SLAAAAASH!

Disclaimer: I own them. Sara, Sofia and all the other characters are mine...Duh, go figure! She got engaged to Bugman, like I'd ever do that! ;)

Shout out to Ponys, for kindly reviewing almost every story I wrote, in just two days! Thanks! And also a hug for Danielle! (you know who you are!) :hugs:

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'I'm sorry, Sofia.'

I whisper against her cheek. She's still asleep. I sigh. I think I screwed up pretty big. I mean, I did kinda yell at her, and locked myself in my room. Actually, I haven't been nice to her ever since she helped me back into the house. I think I even might've used the term 'hate'. Not fair, huh? I guess an apology is in order. I look at her, and give her a kiss on the cheek before heading down. I need some music to calm me down right now. I hurry from the stairway to the couch, cursing myself for getting that hardwood floor. Warming my feet up by tucking them under me, I nestle myself on the couch. Inwardly I grin as I start my DVD and put my headphones on. Most people picture me as an Ella Fitzgerald person, or Nina Simone, but I think Sofia's the only one who knows that I hate jazz. As in, big , big biiiiiig hate for it. I mean, they sing good, but it's not solid enough for me. There was Greg who thought I was a poppy person, I smacked him for that. Grissom thought I liked classical music, I didn't smack him, he's my boss… But Sofia was the one who figured out what it was.

I'd quoted some line from a song I love, and Catherine asked me which song it'd be this time. I didn't tell her, and we got into a fight, no surprise there. But I'm getting of track here. The point is, as I turn the volume up some more, that I love rock and metal. Yes, Sara Sidle loves metal. Heavy Metal, Power Metal, any kind of rock and Metal. Makes it easy to guess what kind of DVD there's in my DVD player. It's usually Alice Cooper or Within Temptation, but a few days back I popped Sonata Arctica in, with 'For the sake of Revenge' and it hasn't left since. It's a new favourite of mine. A friend told me about it and I just got my own to see what it was like. So it joined my 'most watched' pile of DVD's next to the TV.

And that's what I'm listening to as I catch a movement in the corner of my eye. I turn my head and see Sofia standing in the middle of my living room, her lips are moving but I can't hear her over the guitar solo and the drums. I wave for her to hold on and quickly put the DVD on pause and drop the headphones.

'Hey you', she says, 'I heard your apology.' Just a simple statement, but it implies so much more than just that.

'Oh, yeah, you kinda deserved that, I mean, I did treat you uh, well, like crap.'

Shit.. I'm rambling..

Sofia smiles. It's a tired smile, but a smile is a smile. She flops down on the couch next to me. I offer her another pair of headphones, but she declines. She opens her mouth to say something, but stops. I wait. If she wants to talk, she'll talk.

Slowly she starts speaking, trying to stay calm, but with every word she talks faster, words falling out of her mouth. 'I want, no, I need you to get over this, Sara. And not because I don't want to help you anymore, but because I need you to live. Sara, I won't be around every single time this happens. I need you to get up and like me for who I am, and not as someone who can clean up after you. I know you love Catherine, and I know the last thing on your mind is someone else's feelings towards you, but honestly, you've been a bitch for the past months. And this time not just to Catherine, but to everyone. To me, to Nicky, to Greg, to everyone you work with. And it's not helping you. You keep pushing us away! We can't always hang around to come every time you get yourself in trouble once again!'

She's standing in front of me right now, and all I can see is her. Her hurt, her pain, her want to help me, her hate for wanting to help me, and emotions I can't and won't look into now. She's talking again, and I zone in on her: 'It's not just now, that you've treated me badly, and if this happens again, I know you'll do it again. Bitch to everyone who reaches out. Even if I make a peace offer and we make up right now, that doesn't mean it won't happen again. Because it will. I know this will happen again, it's only a matter of when, where and how. Maybe you'll be able to get past it for a few years, but I know that one day you'll just break down again. And act like a devil to anyone who attempts to help you. And God knows they'll run. But you know what, Sara? I don't wanna run. I don't want to be the person who helped you up, and just ignored you on this very floor the second time. You're not a bad person, but nobody will be ready to help you like this. Scars don't matter, tears don't matter. But you could've at least been grateful for what someone does for you. I do accept your apology, but we really gotta do something about this.'

There's a begging like tone in her voice, and looking into her eyes that's exactly what I see. For some reason she desperately needs me to be all right. To be happy again, and to smile. Her words are harsh and they sting, but she knows it's the truth. Hell, I know it's the truth. Everything she said about me hit exactly the right spot. I look at her again, and for some reason I pull her into a hug. I think this is one of those moments where you do the right thing without thinking. She relaxes into me and breaks out into sobs. I pull her back onto the couch and for now, I just hold her in my arms.