Disclaimer: :( I don't own them... -sigh-
A/N: Please review, it's my first posted fic and my self esteem needs a boost!
Chapter 8: September 1987
I can't believe I lost a body
It was a tough scene, I'd just finished pulling a double, and I was ready to go home, eat with my children, and get some much-needed rest. The coroner had been called to another body at another scene moments before we had even been allowed to touch the body, and so its transport fell to me. I was the lead CSI on the case. She was a sixteen year old girl, beaten and raped and left to die in an alley… and she had. It hit everyone hard when it was someone so young… she had fought hard, too. I just hoped that her fight left behind some evidence—I just hoped we could catch the guy who did this to her.
The problem was not only the long hours I'd worked, but that Amber had a fall program tonight… her preschool would be singing songs for the parents, followed by cookies and juice. She'd been talking about it for two, maybe even three, weeks… I wasn't going to miss it, no matter how many hours I had worked.
Unfortunately, Dr. Gerard radioed then, apologizing, knowing how long I'd been on duty, but requesting I go to a scene downtown—I didn't need to process, just give my expert entomological opinion on the bugs found on the body. They didn't really have anyone else, so I sighed, dropping the body off at the lab and hastily filling out the case information before I took off to the new scene, my eyes scratchy and red. I radioed back to the lab that if Laura called, would they please explain to her why I wasn't home, and that I wasn't dead? The only response I was given was laughter.
It was a confusing, complex scene. At first, the timeline seemed to be all off—certain insects in some places, but others, from entire other stages in decomposition, on other places on the body. The explanation could not be the bugs, I reasoned, and so I began processing the scene to determine the cause. An hour later, they had determined that the rain from a few nights before had caused water to pool around half the victim's body and had frozen that way, probably only unthawing in the last twelve hours, based on the temperatures in the area. I was exhausted.
I passed this evidence to the lead CSI on the case and headed directly home, thinking that I might get an hour of sleep before I had to get up for Amber's program. Well, it was better than nothing… and then I could sleep afterward, and by the time I returned to work the next day, they would probably have results on the evidence from my case… a definite COD on the girl… maybe they would already know who had killed her. It was on that happy note that I stumbled into the apartment, laying an exhausted kiss on the forehead of each member of my family before collapsing in bed.
"Laura?" I called from bed, wanting to be certain I wouldn't miss her program.
"Yes, Gil?" She asked from the doorway, eyebrows raised.
"I, uh… I just need an hour. Don't let me miss her program… wake me up…"
She nodded, pulling the door closed. "I won't let you miss it, Gil. Get some rest…"
It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when I was being gently shaken awake. By the time I had dressed and made it out to the kitchen, Laura was pushing a mug of hot coffee into my fingers. Amber was prancing around the living room in her new program dress, and Joshua was on a blanket on the floor, kicking his feet idly. I smile, realizing it feels like days since I've had any time with these people. After the shift I pulled, I won't be able to work at my normal time tomorrow… maybe we should take Joshua and Amber to the park. Or I could take them, and Laura could get some sleep… she looks almost as tired as me.
Laura returns from her bedroom, having hastily changed clothes, and I pour my coffee into a closed thermos and then sweep Joshua up from the floor, wrapping his blankets around him. In a matter of moments, we're out the door and piling into the car.
The program was perfect—sweet and cute and very preschool. I ask Laura if her Kindergarteners are like Amber's age group, and she chuckles. "They're a little more advanced than three and four year olds, Gil…"
I shake my head, turning to lock eyes with my daughter, who waves at me from the risers, even though she shouldn't be, and then signs 'I love you'. I grin and sign it back. "She's pretty advanced in her own right."
Despite my fervent belief that I will be able to sleep in the next day and spend some time with my children, I'm woken at four thirty by Dr. Gerard, frantically asking me something about a body… the body of the girl… the body I transported. I blink blearily, sitting up in my bed, despite the cold of the air outside my blankets.
"Phil, I dropped it off before I went to consult on Olson's scene, with the bugs… I filled out all the paperwork and everything."
"Well, the body is not here, Gil, so I suggest you get your ass down here and find it."
So, I went in and, after some hours, we located the body. I had filled out the wrong case numbers, and she had been transferred to the next county over—Luckily, they had noticed the mistake and hadn't touched her, so all evidence was preserved. Gerard talked to me in his office, but I felt a little closer to my mentor's level now. I knew what I was doing, and my mistake had been minor. Having a CSI at the end of a double transport a body and fill out paperwork they're unfamiliar with because it isn't their job, before sending them off as a consult on yet another case, without sleep… He could only expect human error when he pushed that hard, expected that much. To my great astonishment, he agreed with me. I took the next day and night off and received no argument.
Finally, some time with my family.
Sweet Sixteen
Jim and Marlene remembered my birthday this year, and with a jolt of surprise I realized that I'd been in one home for over a year now. I'd never stayed in one place for so long… My heart swelled at the thought, and I hugged them both warmly for the cake she had baked and the new clothes I had received. Jim had even bought me a small book of Shakespearian Sonnets—he said he'd noticed me looking for something to read, but he didn't think a sixteen year old should be reading romance novels. I'd smiled and blushed, not wishing to inform him that Shakespeare had hardly been a prude, and felt really, really good on my birthday.
Tyler had promised me a night out, but Marlene had wanted to cook, so he came over and ate with us, which was a first. Jim talked to him about fishing and sports, and though Tyler was not big on either thing, he managed to remember that Jim liked the Raiders rather than the 49'ers, and the conversation went smoothly. The next night, he brought me to his house, where I unexpectedly had dinner waiting for me, and another cake.
"Sara, sweetheart, happy birthday!" his mother said as I entered, pulling me into an affectionate hug. "Sweet Sixteen, never been kissed?" She asked me playfully, and my blush and the awkward flickering of my eyes to Tyler was enough to make her laugh and glance at her son, who chuckled too. I failed to see the humor, but I appreciated her kindness. I ate with his family, and I didn't feel nervous or judged… I just felt like they knew I was important to him, and that made me important too.
It was finally the third night, two days after my actual birthday, that he got around to taking me out to eat. I wore the black dress I'd bought for the funeral, but it had better memories attached to it—I'd had to shake the sand out of it for nearly fifteen minutes before I could stick it in the washing machine. We ate, we went to a movie, and we ended the night on our spot on the beach. I chuckled softly, much more at ease with discussing our sex life now that we appeared to have one, even if it was technically not yet consummated. "So what, you think you can get some every time you bring me here?"
He laughed, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my hair. "I just feel at home here… the best memories of my life are here."
I turn my head and kiss him, softly, but he pulls away. "You're leaving in less than a year…"
"I'll still be in town, working. Maybe Jim and Marlene will still want to keep me, after I graduate…"
"You have more than enough money saved to keep you from spending an extra year here… You know you're going away. You already have the applications in your backpack."
I swallow hard, wondering if I should have hidden that. "It's just to see if I get in… what kind of aid I can get. If I don't get accepted, or if I can't get enough aid… well, then, at least I know where I stand…"
"What if… What if you get accepted, with a full ride and then some… excess aid for living expenses? Are you telling me you wouldn't go?"
I bite my bottom lip. How could I be sure I would have the same golden opportunity the following year? I would have to take it, wouldn't I? My silence betrays my assent.
"I'm… Sara, I'm afraid of what I'm going to do, when you leave… I don't know how to live without you anymore."
He looked sad, desperate, wracked with worry and pain. I search for the answer to wipe the distortion from his features. "You could… you could come to Harvard the next year. We can survive a year apart, I know we can."
He scoffed. "You know I couldn't get into Harvard, Sara. Even if I somehow managed to… my parents can't afford to send me out of state. They make too much money for me to get grants… I'm stuck in California, unless I want to skip school altogether to follow you…"
I look down. He couldn't sacrifice school for me—he was brilliant. He was going to do so much in this life… but for the first time, I realized that it might not be possible for me to be a part of that brilliance. I had avoided considering this problem because I loved how I felt, enveloped in the warm and loving glow that was everything he was… but the light flickered feebly now, like a dying flame, and I realized that I was the moon to his sun. I wasn't even visible without him shining on me. How was I going to leave him?
I didn't realize that tears were streaming down my cheeks until I felt him brushing them aside, his face repentant. "I'm sorry Sara. Don't cry, honey. We'll figure something out. We will, I promise. Don't cry, sweety, please?"
I cried myself sick that night, my fists pounding weakly into his chest, unable to see a way out of this. I couldn't not go to school… couldn't give up an opportunity if I was given one… I only had one shot in this world and it was working my ass off and taking every opening I could find. He had to understand that, didn't he? He had to understand that I couldn't end up some housewife, like my mother, unable to support herself and so unable to leave a man who beat her and her children? It was not that I thought he would ever do such things… I just couldn't let myself be so powerless.
I believe this is called an impasse.
