Chapter four.
(haha, I know you'd all been waiting to find out who Sam actually was in that last chapter, and NO… it is NOT Sara's girlfriend… Read on and find out…. :D)
"So, how was work?" Sam asked running her fingers through her side fringe(/or bangs if your from the US\), pushing it back off her lightly freckled, pale face.
"Ugh." Sara said lying across her younger sister's legs over dramatically.
"That good huh ?" Samantha laughed wiggling her legs to free them from the unexpected weight.
"No… but I got my holidays granted, so I can actually spend some time with you now." Sara said propping herself up on her elbow and looking into Sam's face "And we can get you and all the paperwork sorted hey?"
"You really don't have to do this you know Sara. I could go back to the home…only…" Sam's eyes began to well up.
"No." Sara replied stubbornly. "That's not going to happen." She took her sisters hands in hers and squeezed them "I abandoned you once. I'm not going to do it again. I promise."
Sam didn't look up. Sara took the opportunity to look over her sister. At 27, Sara's 17 year old sister Samantha was 10 years younger than her. However that had to be the biggest difference between the two girls: both had brown hair (although Sam's was waist length when loose), the same shaped eyes, button nose and small ears. Samantha was shorter than her taller sister and thinner.
Sara was convinced that her thinness was down to the care-homes, not Sam's personal decision. But then, she couldn't be sure, until a few weeks ago, the last time Sara and Sam had spoken to one another was three years ago, and the last time they saw one another face to face was a further four years prior to that. Somehow, (Sara had yet to find out how) Sam had found her sisters number and called her from the care-home she was in, pleading with her to let her stay a while at her place. Sara of course had agreed without a second thought. She had to make up for all the mistakes she had made during Sam's initial child hood. The girls had been taken to separate care home as children after their mother murdered their abusive father in the family home. Sara, being that much older went to a care home on the opposite side of the city to her three year old sister. Looking back, Sara realised she did have the opportunity on many occasions to visit Sam, but refused, she had buried herself in school work, making no time for friends, family, socialising or normal activities. When Sara turned 18, she inherited the money from her father's will as their mother remained in prison indefinitely on death row. She packed herself off to university, using the money to fund herself through a Forensic Science and criminalist degree. Sam had called asking for Sara to consider taking her guardianship, Sara was too wrapped up in the whirl of university life, and for the first time had found friends and was letting go of her burdens, a young child hanging round the place would hinder that. She was living for herself for now at least. She avoided any phone calls from Sam or the care-home she was in, and threw any letter that slid through the letter box in the bin.
It was only on her way back from the supermarket one morning after work when a young girl (Sam) had ran up to her crying her name. Initially Sara was confused and tried to free herself from the psychotic teenager that she presumed was high or drunk. Or both.
"Sara please say you know me. Please. Please!!" the girl had begged.
Sara shook her head, she had no idea.
"Please Sara, its me, Sam. Samantha Grace Sidle…please remember me" Sam had begged.
"Sam?" Sara questioned. This Sam was nothing like the Sam she remembered. But then, that was over seven years ago.
After getting lunch together, Sara had agreed to let Sam stay for a few weeks as she was obviously distressed at the care-home, and she wanted to make it up to her, although she never mentioned it, Sara presumed that she was hurt from the neglect Sara had shown her during her life. As the days and nights went by, the two girls confided so much in one another, and Sara spent hours sat outside the bathroom listening to her younger sister crying. She couldn't bare it, she had to do something, she had to get her out of care immediately.
Sara was so ashamed. Thinking back over her actions, she would not have blamed Sam if she turned round and started throwing kicks, blows and punches at her. Although Sara doubted she would be able to with her delicate little frame. Sara made the decision not to tell anyone at work about this. She didn't want them asking questions, and she definitely didn't want parenting advice from Catherine, whose daughter had been caught hitchhiking to her grandmothers on more than one occasion.. And what would Grissom say? Would he reject her if she had to take care of a minor? Would he think her selfish? Would he say she couldn't balance a relationship, as well as being a guardian, and working every hour god sends? Would the team judge her for what she had done. There were too many questions. No. She wouldn't tell them. Not until it was absolutely necessary, Sam wouldn't be up to meeting them any way. There was so much to do, she had to get round to decorating the spare room (which would now be Sam's) which she'd been putting off since she bought the apartment, she'd have to look at schools…and Las Vegas was not the safest city in North America, not an idea place for an already troubled kid to grow up.
Sara was making scrambled eggs over the stove in the small kitchenette whilst keeping one eye on Sam who was curled up in a blue hoodie and grey sweats on the couch with a blanket over her, her eyes fixated watching some mind-numbing teenage programme. As she was pouring the juice into glasses for each of them, her cell began to ring, with that same annoying tone, from the bedroom. She left to get it.
At the same time there was a loud knocking came from the door. Sam looked at the door, then to the room where her sister was talking, she'd better leave it, Sara would be back in a minute. Then the knocking came again, harder this time, more urgent. Sam sighed and got up from her comfortable position on the couch, pulled her hair into a quick bun and tiptoed to the door. The floor was ice cold to her bare feet. She slid the brass bolt out of the socket, gripped the cold handle and pulled the door open. In the doorway was a tall figure wearing a black jacket, his hair was grey and his face was speckled with stubble, it appeared that he hadn't shaved in a few days. Sam didn't recognise him, but how could she recognise anyone in this new city?
The man looked very confused and looked at the number on the door again, then at the door opposite as if he was double checking he'd got the right apartment. His eyes, hidden behind glasses went back to Sam and looked her up and down quickly.
"Can I help you?" Sam asked quietly?
"Uh… yeh.. is Sara here? I'm a friend of hers." He answered still confused but trying to cover it.
Sam nodded and turned around going back into the main part of the room and called to Sara. "Sara. There's someone at the door for you!" she should whilst she sat back on the couch.
The man politely closed the door behind him and stood by it still looking confused. Sam smiled to herself but thought nothing more of it.
They heard Sara finish the phone conversation and come back into the main room "Who did you say was where?" she asked her sister.
Sam indicated towards the door.
Sara turned to face him. The one person she had been longing to see. The one person she couldn't see right now. "Grissom?" she said hoarsely. Grissom inclined his head, and nodded towards Sam. "Uh Sam, could you go into your room for a minute please?" Sara asked.
"But…"
"Sam…"
"Yes Sara…" Sam replied dejectedly, getting up and turning the television off before heading into the bedroom.
Sara sat down on the sofa and waited for Grissom to join her. He did so. "I need to tell you something Gil. A lot of something's..."
Grissom put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him. "I'm listening dear."