AN: Wouldn't even know where to start explaining the gazillion month absence so I won't even try – but thank goodness it wasn't death or alien abduction, so I'm finally back. This time hopefully more consistently. So sorry for the long hiatus, life just turned the world completely on its head for me a bit. No worries, haven't forgotten about you guys or your amazing prompts, and I'm anxious to get back to having the enjoyable honor of filling them :)
This one I made quite long, have been told to stop apologizing for that…so I'll just go with that I hope you enjoy it? Thanks again for your guys' never ending support and kindness, means the world. Looking forward to resuming these journeys with you all, will try my best to do them the justice they deserve.
Hope you guys have been doing okay. Everyone take care and enjoy.
Prompt: Here's a prompt - Starts pre-relationship. A suspect returns to a crime scene which Sara is processing. She is hurt (not sure how bad- you can choose!) Cat is upset that Sara is hurt and this prompts her to recognize her true feelings for Sara. Conversations happen, Sara recovers and there is a happy Sara/Cat ending.
Submitted by: jlk-uk
PROMPT 10
There are certain events that hammer themselves into your memory. Ones that are so jarring, so jolting that they permanently carve themselves into your psyche, pieces of rock chipped away that can never be put back in place. You remember where you were when they happened, right down to every last detail of what you were doing and who you were with. The impact of receiving the news nearly equal in the impact of the news itself.
For Catherine, it had started out just like any other day. There were cases to solve and paperwork to complete. It was the latter that had her attention when the call came in. At her desk, buried under mounds of redundant forms, she didn't even bother glancing at the caller ID as she grabbed the receiver with one hand while balancing her pen, folder, and glasses with the other.
The words that were uttered from the other end of the line, however, had her immediately dropping all the other items onto her desk.
"Excuse me?" she questions, certain she's misheard. That the words she thought she'd heard could be nothing but a bad joke, a nasty trick of the ear.
But, instead, the same message is repeated back to her, just as sternly, but this time with just a hint of empathy seeping through. While it's not easy to receive such calls, no one appreciates making them either, knowing the way they're completely altering the person's day, and perhaps life, on the other end.
"I'll be right there."
Without a wasted second she tosses the phone back into the cradle, grabbing her keys and sprinting to the door as fast as her heels will allow.
The scene is awash in flashes of red and blue, the lights glaring and harsh against the otherwise blackened sky.
Making quick work of the crime scene tape, Catherine is through the front yard before she's stopped at the door by a young officer.
"Catherine Willows," she supplies, already pushing her way past the cop who nods at her in recognition.
It's crowded inside, numerous bodies each rushing to their tasks, focused and determined. It's a lot of people to work through, but Catherine's eyes don't take long to spot the member of her team amongst them.
"Greg," she breathes out, making her way quickly to his side.
When he turns away from the officer he was giving his statement to, his eyes moisten while his skin reflects palely in the dim lighting.
"I'm so sorry, Catherine," he gets out, voice nearly breaking. "I didn't see him, I thought the back was clear. I rushed over as soon as I heard her yell, but-"
"Greg," Catherine stops him gently, reaching out to take his cold hand in hers. "This isn't your fault. You hear me?"
Greg looks anything but convinced, his gaze just as heartbroken as it was when she first approached. While she's glad that Greg was the other CSI assigned to this scene, she also laments the fact that Greg is the CSI that will have the hardest time getting over this. He and Sara are close, very close, and he's going to have a lot to work through regarding moving past this.
"Where is she?" Catherine asks, keeping her grip on Greg's hand tight, squeezing it reassuringly.
"Out back," he gets out, eyes lowering. "They made me leave her so they could get her statement."
"I'm glad you were here," Catherine tells him gently. "I know you did everything you could for her."
"I didn't do anything," Greg grinds out, jaw tight and entire head now lowering to match his dropped gaze. "He'd already run off by the time I got to her. She was alone with him the whole time, without backup."
"It's not your job to be anyone's backup, Greg," Catherine tells him tightly. "You're not the cop on scene that was supposed to have cleared it. Your life was in danger just like hers."
"I wish it was my life that was in danger tonight," he breathes out, the sincerity dripping off them like the undercurrents of regret in his tone. "I wish it was me out there and not her."
Catherine gently places her hand along his cheek, heart clenching at his words. "Don't let her hear you talking like this," Catherine shakes her head gently. "Or she'll endanger your life herself."
There's just the barest hint of a smile that makes its way to the young man's lips before it's gone again.
Giving him one last reassuring glance, Catherine backs away, making a beeline for the back door.
The outside of the house is much less chaotic, almost eerie in its contrasting stillness. She knows it's a consequence of the scene having been corded off to prevent further contamination now that it's a new crime scene all its own. Mandatory personnel only.
Which, Catherine notes, includes Jim Brass who is anxiously watching the cop currently taking Sara's statement.
"She cleared by medical?" Catherine asks immediately, knowing what Sidle is trying to do, but refusing to let the younger CSI put her life in danger for the sake of the scene. Sara's dedicated to her job, but that dedication extends to the point of recklessness too often for Catherine's comfort.
"Yes," Brass confirms, barely taking his eyes off the brunette in question while answering. "I made sure of it myself."
While Sara can be reckless with her safety, Brass is someone that Catherine trusts entirely. Especially when it comes to Sara. In fact, there's no one on their team who she'd trust more with Sara's wellbeing that this man who's always shared a unique connection with the young woman, seeing her in a way that's always seemed to Catherine to feel more like family than colleague.
"Can I see her?" Catherine asks, trying to make out Sara's form in the dark of night that's just barely broken up by the poolside lamps the owners of this lavish house seemed to have picked more for styling than actual function. Catherine has penlights that are brighter than these idiotic, gaudy devices.
"She needs to finish her statement first," Brass states, his tone clearly not happy with the answer either. But, they both know protocol in these situations as much as anyone.
Swallowing, Brass turns more of his gaze to the blonde.
"I called you because once she's given her verbal statement someone's going to have to…" he trails off, not having the heart to finish.
Catherine nods, already knowing the reason it was her getting the call tonight instead of Grissom. While technically she's also Sara's supervisor, Gil is senior to her. But, Gil is also a male.
"I'll do the collections as soon as you give me the go ahead."
The words stick in her throat, hating to refer to this situation in such a clinical manner. But, Catherine fears if she allows herself to acknowledge even a fraction of the actual feelings coursing through her right now she'll crack. And, if Sara deserves anything right now, it's a steady and calm CSI who can keep it together long enough to help ensure they get the bastard that did this to her. Her falling apart right now helps no one, least of all Sara.
"Thank you," Brass breathes out, acknowledging the task he's burdened the older woman with.
While Sara and Catherine haven't always been the closest, he knows that Catherine respects the brunette immensely. And, the blonde has always had a protective streak when it comes to her fellow CSIs, and the haunted look in her eyes right now tell Brass that protective nature doesn't exclude Sara Sidle.
It's much sooner than either of them are ready for when the young cop closes his notebook and steps away, giving them a nod as he moves to exit back into the house.
"That's my cue," Brass states quietly, moving to follow the officer inside after giving Catherine's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Mine too," the blonde breathes out shakily, working to steady herself for what's about to come.
When she sees Sara up close, her careful composure she'd gathered on the walk over nearly instantly vaporizes. The walls she'd built around her heart in order to remain professional all but shatter, sending their jagged pieces directly into the organ itself.
"Sara."
The word is choked, tight, tense.
Drawing her head up, the brunette glances over Catherine's face, taking in the identity of this current visitor. Swallowing, she works to straighten herself up further, pulling her back flush with the brick of the house wall behind her.
"Hey," she gets out, trying to greet her supervisor with a tone that's strong, one that doesn't betray the exhaustion she feels.
"God, Sara," Catherine's head shakes back and forth as her eyes widen. "Are you sure you were cleared by medical?"
There's blood, a lot of it. Most of it is centered along Sara's face, but Catherine fears additional injuries likely hidden under the younger woman's clothing.
"Looks worse than it is," Sara mumbles, self-consciously reaching to wipe at some of the blood that's traveled down from her nose, but catching herself at the last minute. After all, the purpose of remaining at the scene versus the hospital was to reduce contamination and increase the potential to get time sensitive evidence without it having been disturbed by the medical treatment process. It doesn't help if Sara disrupts that very evidence herself.
Swallowing, the younger CSI straightens to her full height, squaring her shoulders and adopting an indifferent expression as she lowers her hand back to her side.
"I'm ready when you are," she says tightly.
It's clear she wants to get this over with, just as uncomfortable as the blonde is at the upcoming tasks that need to be accomplished. Sara's never been one for coddling or hand holding, and Catherine respects her coworker's wish to not be treated with kid gloves. But, it's damn hard for Catherine to ignore the heart wrenching sight before her. She's never fond of seeing anyone she cares about hurt, but for some reason seeing Sara Sidle, someone who's always had an air of invincibility and invulnerability around her, in this state is nearly impossible to stomach.
Taking a deep breath, Catherine nods tightly, eyes still betraying her emotions, but granting Sara's wish.
"I won't put you through recounting what happened again, I can get the report from Brass. But, I'm going to need you to be honest about where you're hurt so I can document all the physical evidence possible so we can catch this guy."
Sara nods, eyes dark as she steps slightly away from the wall to give Catherine better access to her.
"You okay to stand for a few minutes?" Catherine asks, catching the slight sway to Sara's stance as much as Sara's trying to appear steady.
"I'm good."
Sighing, Catherine eyes Sara warily before she decides to allow it for now. But, at the first sign of real trouble she's stepping in. There's a limit to how far she'll let Sidle's stubbornness go.
"This is going to be bright," Catherine warns, raising the camera from its place around her neck.
Sara nods, narrowing her eyes slightly as Catherine begins documenting the injuries along her face and neck. It's a slow process despite Catherine's desire to make this as quick as possible, after all she also needs to be thorough.
Pausing briefly to push her hands into a pair of clean gloves, Catherine eyes the side of Sara's neck.
"I'm going to need to move your hair."
Sara nods wordlessly, eyes staring past Catherine to something over her shoulder. Hating the necessary evils of this intrusion, particularly when the blonde knows just how much the younger woman values personal space, Catherine gently moves Sara's hair off her left shoulder, exposing the skin of her neck beneath. Sure enough, there's a dark bruise there, the shapes of at least three fingers outlined in the pale skin.
Clenching her teeth, Catherine keeps Sara's hair back with one hand while she takes numerous photos with the other. Moving around to Sara's right side, she repeats the process.
Reaching up, she runs a hand gently through Sara's dark hair along the back of her head. Feeling the younger woman startle, she immediately stills her movements, cursing herself internally.
"Sorry," she apologizes, "I should have warned you. I just need to see if there're any injuries along the back of your head."
Sara's reply is a quiet but firm, "That's fine."
Catherine knows it's not fine, that the brunette is nowhere near as fine as she keeps professing she is. Sara's not one to admit weakness or pain, rarely ever complaining about anything at work, even when Catherine can tell the younger woman is not feeling well or exhausted after pulling another triple. Sara's always been stoic, insisting she's okay and often doing a convincing job of conveying it. But, this isn't a headache or a cold that Sara can hide. This is so much more than that, and this time Catherine can see right through the younger woman's falsehoods.
But, the last thing Sara needs right now is Catherine calling her out on it. In fact, that seems to be the last thing she'd appreciate when she's already clearly feeling vulnerable and in pain. Instead, Catherine suspects that Sara needs someone who will not make her feel any worse than she already does, someone who won't point out the exact vulnerabilities she's trying desperately to hide.
After all, Sara's body will speak for itself regardless of what the brunette states verbally. She can't deny the images under Catherine's lens.
"Where else are you hurt?" Catherine asks gently, backing up slightly to give Sara some space.
There's a momentary pause, but Sara knows she needs to be upfront with Catherine. Everything they collect today will be used to find, prosecute, and convict the man that did this. Sara's instincts may be to brush this off and deal with her injuries on her own, outside of Catherine's prying eyes, but that doesn't help her case. Or the victim's case. Sara has no doubt that the same man who murdered the couple living in this house was the same one who tried to add her name to his list of victims tonight.
With her heart rate accelerating slightly, Sara submits to what needs to be done.
"Hand, back, shoulder, hip."
Catherine's stomach churns at the list, as well as at the brunette's continued avoidance of eye contact as she provides it.
She hates that she's the one doing this, that she's the one who has to put Sara through this. Her team may not realize the way that this would affect her, figuring she and Sara are not the closest members of the team. But, they'd be wrong. This is slowly killing Catherine with each new photo that needs to be taken.
"I'll start with your hand," Catherine says tightly, trying once more to steady herself and give Sara the professionalism she deserves right now.
Without a word, Sara lifts her right, dominant hand, extending it for Catherine. The last two fingers are clearly broken, the knuckles across the rest of the digits red and purple, along with streaks of blood across the skin.
Catherine marvels at the young woman's pain tolerance, standing out here in the chilly night with broken bones and acting like it's nothing to her.
"You sure you don't want to do this at the hospital?" Catherine asks one last time, knowing this is going to take a while and that Sara's pain isn't likely to be able to end anytime soon out here.
"I'm sure," Sara affirms, eyes still on anything but Catherine.
Sighing, Catherine tries to keep her own hand steady as she reaches out, gently taking Sara's wrist to support her hand as she takes multiple photos from multiple angles.
"Keep it out," she instructs when she lets go, bending down to grab a swab from her kit.
Sara does as she's asked, keeping her hand extended as Catherine swabs the blood from the appendage, trying to be as gentle as she can around the worst of the injuries.
"Looks like you got some good hits in," she says proudly, noting some of the blood on Sara's hand isn't her own.
Sara nods slightly, "I tried."
"You did well, Sara," Catherine informs her warmly. "You did really well."
After collecting scrapings from under Sara's fingernails of both hands, she moves on to the next items on Sara's list.
"Your back," she prompts. "I'm going to have to lift your shirt a bit."
Sara nods, swallowing tightly as she steps further away from the wall to give Catherine better access to her back. Catherine is gentle, carefully lifting the hem of the t-shirt slowly, stopping when she sees what Sara was referring to. Holding it in place with one hand, she takes photos of the long, linear bruise with the other.
Putting the camera down, she reaches out, gently running her fingers across the discolored skin.
Feeling Sara stiffen, she stops her movements. "I'm just feeling along the bruise to be sure this doesn't extend up to where I can't currently see."
When Sara nods, she continues her movements, assuring herself that she's documented the injury fully.
Reaching up, she warns Sara before she touches her again.
"I'm going to move your shirt so I can see your shoulder, which one is it?"
"Right."
Gently, Catherine moves Sara's hair to the side, exposing her neck as she moves the edges of her shirt away towards her arm. It's not long before Catherine catches the edge of the injury, seeing the displacement of the bone underneath.
Moving around to Sara's front to get a better angle, she shakes her head tightly at the confirmation of what she'd feared she was seeing.
"I think this is dislocated, Sara."
Sara nods quietly, "I know."
"Goddamn it," Catherine curses, finally losing some of her tightly restrained composure. "That fucking asshole."
Sara doesn't comment, her jaw tight as Catherine holds the t-shirt in one hand and completes her photos with the other.
"You should have told me," she chastises gently but firmly. "Shouldn't have let me make you hold your hand out like that before."
Sara shrugs, but the movement is awkward, stilted, and definitely one sided.
"It's not a big deal, I dislocated this shoulder so many times playing sports in college that it comes out of place all the time, probably at least once a month," she says quietly. "The medics made sure there wasn't any restriction of blood flow to the rest of my arm or anything serious."
"So they just left it like this?" Catherine bites out, feeling her grip on her composure slipping. It may not be life threatening, sure, but it damn well has to feel excruciating until its put back into place. "Left you like this?"
For the first time since they started this process, Sara's eyes move to meet the blonde's.
"I'm alright, Catherine," she says quietly, gently. "Really."
"You and I have very different definitions of being alright, Sidle."
Shaking her head, Catherine works hard to steady herself, to not completely lose it when they've made it this far.
"I'm sorry," Sara offers, eyes almost regretful as she watches the older woman who appears to be slowly cracking to pieces before her eyes. "I'm sorry that Brass called you to do this. This is the type of assignment no one wants, sorry you're the one that got stuck with it."
"No," Catherine shakes her head sternly. "Don't you dare apologize to me, Sara. I'm the one who's sorry. Sorry this happened to you, sorry that I'm losing my shit over here, and definitely sorry that I'm probably the last person you'd want to have doing this."
Sara's gaze is hard to read, and Catherine is about to break her own eye contact, move away and start on the last item on their list when Sara's quiet words stop her.
"You're not." Straightening up slightly with a pained hitch to her breathing, Sara keeps her gaze firm. "You're not the last person, Catherine. I…"
Shaking her head, Sara's eyes are dark, but honest. "I trust you. Always have."
The quiet words hang between them, the night silent and still despite the chaos that permeated this space not long before.
Catherine closes her eyes against the emotion rising there, at hearing words she'd never thought she'd hear from the woman standing before her. Her and Sara's past is rocky, filled with more landmines and trigger points than she can ever recall having had with another person. But, she'd also always respected the brunette immensely, valued her brilliance and her character. She'd always felt that despite their differences, there was something unique between them, a different feel from what she had between herself and the guys.
It was special, cherished, and Catherine had always presumed one sided.
"Thank you," she gets out between the tightness in her throat. "That means a lot, coming from you."
Sara nods, eyes lowering slightly as the moment becomes nearly too weighty.
Knowing she's not going to be able to keep herself together much longer, and knowing Sara is in a lot of pain despite the stoic woman's attempts to downplay it, she clears her throat.
"What do you say we check out your hip and get the final part of this over with?" she poses gently.
Sara nods, grateful for the break in the mood.
"Sounds good."
Assessing the woman's stance, Catherine can guess which hip it is that's bothering the taller CSI. It's subtle, but Sara's definitely favoring her left leg.
Stepping forward, she raises her eyes to Sara's.
"May I?" she asks, gesturing towards Sara's waist.
Swallowing, Sara nods, looking away as Catherine's hands make their way to her hip, gently moving along until Sara flinches, teeth clenching tightly. Knowing she's hit the correct spot based on Sara's involuntary reactions, she notes the location.
"This is going to be easier if you're laying down," she says tentatively, knowing Sara's going to be less than pleased with the suggestion.
Indeed, Sara's eyes darken slightly before she nods, clearly wanting to get this over with more than anything.
Reaching out, she takes hold of the wall behind her as she moves to lower herself. But, between the injuries to her dominant hand and shoulder, as well as her limited ability to put weight on her hip, she doesn't make it far.
"Hold on," Catherine intercedes, seeing the flashes of pain across Sara's expression. "Let me help you, Sara."
Moving into the brunette's space, Catherine moves slowly as to not startle Sara, gently taking hold of her good arm while wrapping her other arm around Sara's upper torso, careful to avoid her hips.
"On three you're going to let go of the wall and let me lower you down, okay?" Catherine directs, leaving little room for arguments. "One. Two. Three…"
Feeling Sara surrender some of her control, Catherine carefully takes the brunette's full weight in her arms, not allowing the brunette to back out. Gently lowering her down, she angles Sara away from the wall so that she can lay her flatly on her back.
"You okay?" she questions, noting Sara's tension at the vulnerable position.
"Let's just do this," Sara gets out, jaw set tightly as her eyes go back to avoiding Catherine's.
"Fair enough," Catherine promises, "I'll be as quick as I can."
Moving her hands to Sara's waist, she hesitates at her belt.
"I'm going to undo your pants, but I'm only going to move them down far enough to see your hip, no lower."
Waiting for Sara's nod of permission, she moves carefully and gently. As she lowers Sara's jeans, she's careful not to expose any more than needed, keeping her eyes focused on Sara's left hip. As soon as she has the hip bone free, she stops, seeing all she needs.
"What did you hit this against?" Catherine questions darkly, hating to see the deep gash and bruises surrounding the prominent bone.
"The gate behind the pool," Sara answers quietly. "When he first grabbed me, he pushed me against it and tried to wrestle me for my gun, kept slamming me into it trying to knock my grip from my holster."
Catherine's blood is boiling as she takes multiple photos, holding the waistband of Sara's jeans out of the way. She's thorough, taking swabs of multiple locations along Sara's belt and clothing as well, trying to pick up on any transfers that happened during their struggle.
"Have I mentioned how badly I want to castrate this fucker?"
Sara smiles slightly, "Only if I don't get to him first."
Shaking her head, Catherine finishes the last of her photos, refastening Sara's jeans and belt.
"That it?" she asks, searching Sara's gaze to be sure the younger woman is being honest with her.
Nodding, Sara pushes out with her good arm, moving herself to a sitting position. Before she can proceed further, Catherine reaches down, gently taking hold of the younger woman by the waist and lifting her upwards until she's on her feet.
"Thanks," Sara mumbles, clearly hating to need the help.
Catherine simply nods, keeping one hand on Sara's good hip as she notes the slight sway in the younger woman's stance.
"What do you say we get you out of here and to the hospital?" Catherine poses, wanting nothing more than to see the younger woman out of this cold air and finally getting some medical assistance.
She at last gets confirmation of just how much pain the younger woman is in when Sara doesn't fight her on it, simply nodding quietly as Catherine gently leads her towards the house.
It's not long before Sara is released from the hospital. In fact, it takes Catherine longer to collect statements from the rest of the people involved in this case, including the hospital staff that she gathers the rest of the physical evidence from.
Seeing Sara's bloodied clothing in the bag she's currently holding, Catherine lets out a sigh. While processing the young women herself was one of the hardest things the blonde has had to do during her career, she knows that the hard parts are far from over. She's going to have to go through Sara's clothes, the physical evidence collected during her treatment here at Desert Palms, as well as the evidence collected from the scene itself.
It's going to be awhile before they can all put this behind them, including Sara herself.
She watched Sara get released earlier, immediately greeted by Nick and Greg who jumped into protective brother modes. She smiles as she remembers their caring and concerned expressions as they hugged her, briefly talking before each taking an arm and escorting her protectively out to their waiting car – all the while Sara groaned at the attention and reminded them rather firmly that she's not an invalid.
Chuckling slightly at the memory, the members of this team that have become family, Catherine takes a deep breath as she places the evidence in her hands into her own vehicle. Instead of heading home, however, she's heading straight to the lab to get a jump on processing. Every minute that goes by is another minute the perpetrator who placed her team member in harm's way is out on the street.
She's not going to rest until he's behind bars where he belongs and Sara Sidle has the justice she deserves.
"You should go home."
The tight tone stating the words isn't nearly as surprising as the voice behind them.
"What are you doing here?" Catherine questions, her own tone holding its own share of tension.
"I was released yesterday," Sara counters, eyes glancing over the items on the layout table. "Grissom already cleared me to be back in the lab."
"Grissom's an idiot."
Sara smiles slightly, her expression breaking just enough for Catherine to feel her own follow shortly. "Seriously, Sara, you should be at home resting. You have to be feeling like shit right now."
"You don't look like you're too far behind," Sara again counters, eying her supervisor. "How long have you been here?"
"Not long enough," Catherine says, the frustration at not having a name yet to go on even after all the evidence she's already sent to be processed. She's just hoping that some of the latest samples will come up with a hit.
Sara steps slightly closer, again eying the table but careful to keep her distance. She knows she can't be involved in any of this, knows the rules against working your own case. But, this case was her victims' long before it was hers. And it's killing her to have to take a back seat while someone else solves the murders she was sent to investigate.
"You're not going to listen to me, are you?" Sara questions, eyes finally moving up from the table to meet the older woman's.
"Are you going to listen to me?" Catherine returns.
Sara's eyes acknowledge the message, the fact that they're both far too stubborn to be sitting idle at home right now.
"Can I at least offer you a coffee or something before you pass out onto that table?"
Catherine smiles slightly at the younger woman, "Only if you join me."
Sara considers the terms, finally nodding as she waits for Catherine to secure the evidence.
"You sure know how to treat a lady right," Catherine laughs, seeing Sara leading the way to the deserted break room, the lab a near ghost town at this off hour.
Sara smirks slightly, raising a brow as she turns her attention back to the coffee pot, "Hold your judgement until you taste it."
"I've tasted it," Catherine counters, "for about ten years now that I've worked here. Just tastes shittier every year if you ask me."
"Mmm hmm," Sara hums absently as she continues to work with the machine with her good hand, taking a step back as it purrs to life, beginning the brewing process.
Knowing her younger colleague isn't really listening to her complaints, Catherine simply rolls her eyes good naturedly and sets herself along the couch, sighing in relief as she rests her head back against the soft cushions.
She's not entirely sure how much time has passed before she's gently roused awake by a warm hand on her shoulder.
"I let you sleep a bit, but didn't want it getting too cold," Sara says quietly, hand extending a still steaming mug.
"Thanks," Catherine says gratefully, knowing letting her sleep would do more harm than good at this point anyway. She just needs to power through until she's achieved real progress in this case.
Sara leans against the table, settling her weight slightly on its hard surface.
"Holy fuck," Catherine's eyes widen, swallowing the liquid in her mouth. "What is this?!"
Sara smirks slightly, a knowing smile on her face.
"Still think I don't know how to treat a lady?"
Catherine's cheeks redden slightly at the deserved retort, eyes moving back down towards her coffee as if it will provide the answers directly itself.
"You stole Greg's stash. And then did something fucking magical to it."
Sara shrugs slightly with her good arm, "I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation."
The coffee tastes like heaven, and definitely not the standard crap they usually serve. Whatever the hell Sidle did to make this godly brew, she's not going to argue.
"Thank you," Catherine offers instead, "you're pretty much my hero right now."
Sara smiles slightly, her dark features lightening somewhat before she shakes her head. "The least I can do."
Catherine enjoys a few more swallows of her coffee before she eyes the young woman before her.
"You know you don't owe me anything, right?" she questions. "I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. Not to mention the same thing you'd do for me if the situation were reversed."
"I would," Sara affirms without hesitation. "But it's hard being on this end of it, just sitting here while…"
Catherine reaches up, placing her hand on Sara's uninjured arm.
"You aren't just sitting here, Sara," Catherine shakes her head darkly. "You were attacked and physically assaulted at a crime scene. Do you understand that?"
"I just…" Sara trails off, hesitating to voice what she wants to say. "I just wish there was more I could do."
"Sara," Catherine breathes out. "You're always here busting your ass for everyone else, your team, the victims. For once, let us take care of you. Yeah?"
Sara swallows, jaw tight. "I'll try."
Smiling slightly at her younger colleague's expression that can best be described as stubborn dejection, Catherine carefully squeezes Sara's arm.
"Now," the older woman eyes her colleague, causing Sara's expression to shift to something slightly more wary. "Why don't you tell me how you're really doing?"
Catherine can see Sara's confusion at the question, its wording, hazel eye's searching blue and then dropping to the cup of coffee in her own hand.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean how you're doing, how you're feeling, all of it." Catherine's eyes hold firm. "I mean no lying to me or bullshitting about how you're 'fine' or other nonsense like that."
"What if I really am fine?" Sara challenges, body stiff.
Catherine simply eyes the brunette, keeping her gaze on the younger woman until she sees Sara practically squirm under her gaze, clearing her throat as the younger woman looks hesitantly at her.
"I'm okay," Sara gets out. "A little sore, but okay."
"That's the best you got?" Catherine shakes her head. "A little sore?"
"What do you want from me?" Sara cuts back, voice now as tight as the blonde's sharp gaze. "What do you want me to say?"
Catherine simply waits, seeing the anger flashing through Sara's expression, seeing her normally stoic coworker losing the grip on her ever present composure. She knew there was a risk of this happening, in fact part of her welcoming it if it helps the younger woman realize she's not nearly as 'okay' as she thinks she is.
In the silence, Sara's anger is reflected back at the brunette, standing harsh and out of place in the otherwise peaceful room.
"Fuck," Sara breathes out, taking in a long breath and clenching her uninjured fingers tightly around her coffee mug as she pushes herself to a stand.
The moment is too much, the proximity to her supervisor, to the one woman who always seems to rattle her, much too close. Moving to the counter, Sara closes her eyes, back to the room as she works to collect herself.
She wants to say something, do something, to make this moment less uncomfortable. To make her outburst go away, to make the silence now hanging between them less oppressive. There have always been a lot of things she wished she was better at regarding the blonde. But, so far in their career, their relationship has been brief glimpses of comradery interrupted by moments just like this – explosive, uncomfortable, and tense. Perhaps it's just the way things are always destined to be between her and Catherine.
"I'm," Sara swallows, trying to take the shakiness out of her voice. "I'm going to go get started on my open cases." Tossing the rest of her coffee back in one swift motion, she places her mug in the sink.
"I'm sorry," the younger CSI offers quietly before leaving, hoping it somehow works to rebuild the schism between them that seemed to have only just widened further.
Watching Sara leave the breakroom, gait stiff with a noticeable favoring of her left leg, Catherine lets out a tired sigh. She took a chance trying to get Sara to open up to her, and it's safe to say it pretty much blew up in her face.
Taking the few swallows remaining of her own coffee, Catherine decides to focus her energy on a problem that has a much higher chance of being solved than the mystery and defensiveness that is Sara Sidle. Placing her mug beside Sara's, the blonde strides out of the room, renewed focus on solving this case and putting this all behind them.
It takes three days, three long shifts filled with more coffee than sleep, but they finally have a name. And, what's better, Brass called just a few minutes ago to let her know they also now have a location. Brass is already on his way, and Catherine, jogging to her Tahoe, is not far behind.
It took a lot of work, a few lucky breaks, and a brave young CSI who was able to get her just enough evidence of her attacker to make a DNA match. A brave young CSI who Catherine has barely crossed paths with since their altercation in the break room.
Needless to say, Catherine is beyond grateful that this case is finally coming to a close. She can only hope that she and Sara also have a chance to close the issues that have seemed to linger between them these last few days, just beneath the surface.
As she pulls up to the location Brass gave her, a shoddy looking motel along the south side of the Vegas strip, the scene in front of her can only be described as chaotic. There's yelling, sirens, and from somewhere to her left, the blaring of a police horn.
Heartrate increasing and eyes narrowing, Catherine jumps from her Tahoe, eyeing the surrounding activity. Grabbing the first cop she sees, she asks for an update.
"We got him," is the simple reply.
"And where is he now?" Catherine questions, wondering why in the hell there is so much chaos around them if the suspect is already in custody.
"On his way to PD as we speak," the officer states, heading towards his cruiser. "Brass gave the all clear about two minutes ago."
"Then why…" Catherine gestures around her, at the loud voices coming from inside what she guesses was the suspect's motel room. "Why all this?"
The cop grows uncomfortable, hand hesitating over his car door.
"Ask Brass."
Without further comment, he gets in his vehicle and pulls out of the chipping asphalt lot.
"What the hell…" Catherine mutters, now wanting more than anything to get behind whatever is going on here.
Quickening her pace, she heads towards the motel room with its door broken open, sharp shards of wood hanging off the chipping frame, figuring it's a good guess as to the location of the yelling and the suspect's former hideout.
Coming around the door jam, the room is dim, lit by the slits of bright sunlight that have managed to penetrate their way through the tears in the dingy curtains covering the front window. The few beams are bright enough to offer enough light for Catherine to quickly make out the occupants in the room, one in particular giving her pause.
"Sara?" she questions, "What the hell are you doing here?"
The two people in the room continue their stare down of one another, not even acknowledging her presence.
It's clear she walked in on a very heated argument between them, Brass's face looking a deep shade of red that borders on unhealthy. Sara herself is the opposite, pale features standing out in the grimy lighting. But, she looks just as angry.
"This was irresponsible," Brass gets out, voice raised. "Irresponsible and a violation of a direct order that I gave you to stay in the car! You put your life and the lives of all these people in danger!"
Sara's jaw is tight, her hands clenched.
"I knew what I was doing-"
"You're not a cop!" Brass yells, his own finger pointing towards Sara's chest. "You were out of line, Sidle, and you're damn lucky you didn't get yourself killed!"
Eyes narrowed, Sara shakes her head. "So I was what, supposed to just let him escape out his bathroom window? Yell for backup, which would arrive just in time to see him disappearing down the alley behind this shithole?!"
"You were supposed to let us do our fucking job and you were supposed to obey my fucking orders!"
Seeing the rage building between the two, Catherine steps forward before things can get even further out of hand than they already are.
"Hey, that's enough," she states sternly, making her presence more than known. "Both of you."
Moving between them, she looks back at Brass.
"Why doesn't someone explain to me what the hell is going on."
Though, the sinking feeling in her stomach at Brass's words assures Catherine she already has a pretty good idea of what happened here. But, God, she hopes she's wrong.
She desperately hopes she's wrong.
"Why don't you ask vigilante Sidle over here?" Brass shakes his head in anger. "I'm sure she'd love to explain to both of us what the hell she was thinking."
Sara's jaw is clenched so tightly that Catherine moves slightly closer to her.
Reaching out, she places a hand along Sara's chest, trying to get her to take a step back, put some distance between her and the police captain.
"Relax, Sara," Catherine orders, feeling the barely contained rage all but vibrating through the younger woman's body under her hand. "Let's all relax."
Sara doesn't exactly relax, but she does allow Catherine to push her a step back, placing a slightly larger gap between her and Brass.
"Now, someone tell me what happened. Perhaps starting with what Sara is even doing here when she is supposed to be on lab duty due to her injuries."
For the first time, Brass is the one who looks slightly hesitant. But, just as quickly as the hesitance flashes through his eyes, it's quickly replaced by the anger that's overtaking all else.
"I took her out for a coffee, she'd been working nonstop in the lab and I felt she needed a break." Brass shakes his head. "While we were out the call came in that the suspect was located. We were the closest unit so I made the decision to respond. But," he tightens his mouth into a tense line, his hand rising to again point angrily at Sara. "I was clear that I'd only respond if she agreed to stay in the car. It was a direct order and she gave me her word."
Catherine knows Sara isn't perhaps the best with authority or orders from her superiors, but this was reckless, even for her.
Turning to the brunette in question, Catherine keeps her hand firm on the taller woman's chest, this time holding her in place so she doesn't get any ideas of walking out on this conversation like she tends to do when things get uncomfortable. After all, the last time they themselves interacted, Sara did just that, walking out on their argument before either of them had a chance at resolution.
"Explain what happened," Catherine orders the younger CSI, trying to refrain judgement until she gives Sara a chance to speak for herself. "Why you disobeyed Jim's order and ended up an active participant on this call."
Sara's body is tense, her eyes still narrowed at Brass as she meets his burning gaze head on.
"Now, Sidle," the blonde bites out, having no patience for the stare down the other two seem to refuse to back down from.
"As we pulled in I noted that the motel units all have back windows that face the alley, connecting them to the strip," Sara offers, eyes still on Brass. "I exited the car so that I could maintain visual on the back windows as no one was covering that potential point of egress yet."
"And?"
Sara shakes her head darkly, "And sure enough, that bastard was kicking out the back window of his motel room as our guys were trying to break down the front door. By the time they got through it would've been too late, he'd have reached the crowds on the strip and been gone."
"So you decided you'd intercept him yourself instead of calling out to Brass or any of the other officers on the scene?"
"There was no time."
"That's bullshit," Brass cuts in angrily.
"Captain." Catherine's voice interrupts Brass's comments before they can go any further. "I need to hear the answers from Sara. I'm the superior on this case and I'm going to be the one handling the repercussions, so I need her statements to be directly to me."
Sara tenses at Catherine's statement regarding repercussions, body shifting to push the blonde's hand off of her.
"Fuck this," Sara bites out, but not getting far before Catherine's grip is returned to her shirt, even tighter this time.
"No you don't," Catherine bites out impatiently. "You're going to stand here and answer every single damn question I have for you. Do you understand me?"
"Do you understand that that asshole would've gotten away if I didn't do what I did?! Why the fuck are we all still arguing about this?!"
Catherine's eyes narrow, "You're going to take a breath, Sidle, and you're going to amend the tone that you just used to address a superior. You are never to speak to me, or any other supervisor in this department, like that ever again. Am I clear?"
Sara's eyes darken, her expression a cross combination of frustration, anger, and betrayal.
"Am I clear?" Catherine bites.
Sara shakes her head, eyes now leaving Brass, leaving Catherine, leaving everyone to burn holes in the wall beside them.
"Yes, ma'am. Crystal clear."
Catherine hates the position she's put in right now, having to pull rank on any of their team is never comfortable. But, pulling rank on Sara, whom she's worked hard to try to obtain a cordial working relationship with, is particularly hard. She knows this will likely chip away at the progress the two of them had made. But, she has a job to do, no matter how she feels about the person in question, and the job takes priority.
"Did you have time to call for backup?" Catherine questions directly.
Sara's eyes remain dark, her features filled with shadows from the window.
"I didn't think so at the time."
Catherine searches the younger woman's eyes, trying to get any sort of gauge on Sara's honesty. The brunette is stubborn, reckless, but she's not a liar, not when it comes to the job. At least not that Catherine's ever witnessed.
"Did you try?" Catherine asks. "Or did you at least notify anyone when you made the decision to intercept the suspect so they could redirect their focus to your location?"
"No."
There's no regret, no hesitation. Sara's decisions were clear to her, and the younger woman doesn't appear the least bit regretful of any of them.
"Why not?"
Sara shrugs, "I had it under control."
But, the action itself reminds the blonde of just how asinine the younger woman was. Sara can't even shrug properly, her right arm still mostly useless to her as she heals.
"So you feel that a CSI, let alone an injured CSI, is the best person to commandeer a fleeing, violent suspect."
Sara's head shakes in frustration, "I was the only one who could've reached him in time. It doesn't matter whether I'm injured or not, I had a duty to stop him before he could get away and hurt more people. And, you're all ignoring the fact that I wasn't wrong! I got him, did I not?"
Sara's eyes are burning when they turn to meet Catherine's.
"Why are you all acting like me standing by like an invalid while he got away would've been the better outcome?" Sara's gaze is as tense as her body. "You can say anything you want to me, Catherine, give me any sort of punishment you deem fit. But I don't regret what I did. Not for one second. I made a decision that prevented that madman from getting back onto the street. And for that, I'm not the least bit apologetic."
Catherine lets out a breath, shaking her head at Sara's stubbornness that blinds the younger woman to why anyone would find these events concerning. Why her actions were out of line, regardless of whether they were ultimately successful.
"You were lucky, Sara," Catherine bites out. "You were damn lucky. And, luck does not excuse your lack of judgement."
Sara straightens to her full height, eying the blonde.
"Then there's no point in arguing this further, is there? You both see this how you want to see it, and nothing I say is going to change your mind. So, do whatever you need to do to punish me so I can get out of this fucking room and we can stop having this useless argument." Sara's eyes narrow. "Ma'am."
Catherine's jaw clenches, eyes boring into Sara's as she directs her next words to the person behind her.
"Brass, will you give us a minute alone?"
Brass grunts, "Gladly."
As he leaves, he pulls the broken door closed behind him.
"What in the hell is going on with you?" Catherine demands the moment the door slams shut.
"Me?" Sara scoffs, frustration rolling off her in waves. "It's not my sanity that appears in question here."
Catherine's arms cross firmly over her chest. "Do you seriously not see how this looks from our side of things, Sara?" Head shaking, she chances a step closer to the younger woman. "Do you really fail to see any problem with what you did?"
"The only failure I see here is your and Brass's inability to recognize what would've happened if I let that man go free." The tension in Sara's jaw is visible to the blonde despite the distance remaining between them. "Who in their right fucking mind would let that man have a chance at freedom, of killing more people after everything he's already done?"
"Who in their right fucking mind would chase after an armed suspect when they can barely walk and have only one functional arm?!" Catherine counters, voice just as stern as the brunette's. "Not to mention disobeying a direct order and nearly getting themselves killed."
"I didn't nearly get-"
"Bullshit!" Catherine yells, voice rising as she loses the last of her carefully held composure. "You knew exactly the risk you were taking, Sidle. How absolutely ludicrous your plan was. And, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were purposefully trying to put yourself in harm's way."
Sara turns, giving Catherine her back. "That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" Catherine presses, advancing on the younger woman until they're mere inches apart. "Look at me and tell me you didn't have some sort of death wish back there."
Sara's body is rigid, her hands clenching in fists, her injured one cradled near her hip as she puts pressure on the broken fingers still held tightly in a splint.
Losing some of her anger, Catherine's gaze searches over the tormented woman before her, taking in everything her eyes reveal.
Sara looks exhausted, body nearly shaking as it appears to take everything within her to keep herself together right now. The brunette's shoulders are hunched, her body favoring her injuries as if it's seeking the relief its owner refuses to give it. It's clear Sara hasn't been resting these past days, clear she hasn't been giving her body the time it needs to start getting better. Sara looks like she's struggling, and not just with the injuries that Catherine's eyes can see. No, she's struggling with something much deeper inside than that.
"Talk to me, Sara." Her voice is nearly a whisper this time. "Tell me what the hell is going on with you."
Sara's head bows, dark hair falling across tense shoulders. But, she remains quiet, any explanations or revelations she may hold remaining buried deep inside the young CSI.
"I want to help you," Catherine breaths out her frustration. "But I can't do that if you won't let me in."
Reaching out, she places her hand on Sara's good shoulder, feeling the woman tense as she keeps her eyes on the stained carpet beneath their feet.
There's no give, no word uttered by Sara, the minutes ticking by slowly between them in silence. Catherine's tried pushing, she's tried yelling, she's tried quiet pleading, now she's tried silence. Clearly, none of it working.
While she'd love to brush this under the rug, make this go away and give Sara time and space to figure out whatever the hell is clearly going on with her, she can't do that. She knows what she has to do, even though it's killing her to do it.
"Until you're willing to be more forthcoming with me," she tells Sara, voice heavy with a mix of emotions, "I have no choice but to put you on disciplinary leave. It's going to be Brass's decision as to what formal action he takes, how far this goes from here."
Sara's body is still, completely motionless and silent.
"Understood?"
Finally, Sara steps away from Catherine's reach, the blonde's hand falling down heavily to her side.
"Yes, ma'am," the brunette responds, this time sounding nothing but empty.
Without another word, Sara pulls her weapon from her hip, placing it on the motel room bed that now stands between them. Grabbing her badge from her belt, she tosses it down alongside the weapon.
"Sara, I'm sor-"
The younger CSI doesn't wait for the rest of Catherine's sentiment, pushing the door open and disappearing out into the blinding Nevada sun.
"I'm worried about her."
"You and me both," Catherine agrees as she sets her exhausted body down into the chair across from Brass's desk.
"Sidle is one of the best CSIs I've ever worked with," Brass lets out a tired sigh. "I hate having to add anything less than exemplary work into her file. This just feels wrong for so many reasons."
"You didn't force her to disobey a direct order," Catherine counters, acknowledging the tough spot Brass is in right now. Trying to separate his personal feelings from his job. "Make her recklessly chase after a violent suspect in her condition."
Brass lets out another breath, this one more defeated than the first.
"Would either of us really have done anything differently if it were us?" Brass asks, finally voicing the question that's been on both their minds. "Are we being hypocritical thinking we'd have obeyed if we were in her position?"
"I don't know what I would've done," Catherine answers honestly. "But I sure as hell wouldn't think it was a good idea at least, especially if I were as injured as she is. I may or may not have taken the same action, but if I had my attitude about it would've been a whole hell of a lot different than hers." Catherine's head shakes in frustration. "It's like she doesn't seem to care at all the risk she took today, like it doesn't faze her in the least that she could've gotten herself killed."
"I don't think she cares," Brass confesses. "I really don't. And that's what has me the most worried."
Catherine nods, knowing that deep down this is what has her and their police captain the most upset.
Sara's actions were of questionable judgement, surely. But, the rights and wrongs could be debated. It's really the brunette's attitude about the whole thing that has them both the most on edge. Sara was reckless, placing her life in jeopardy, and yet her dangerous behavior seemed to have absolutely no effect on the woman carrying them out.
For them both, that reality is the most terrifying.
"I doubt your doctor would approve."
Sara's eyes are dark, along with her expression, tossing her workout towel onto her porch as she reaches for the half-filled beer bottle resting on the railing.
"I doubt you have jurisdiction over my actions both at work and outside of it. Pretty sure what I do on my own time is still under my own discretion. Or, did you come here to dictate over that as well?"
"Relax, Sara," Catherine holds up her hands. "I come in peace."
Sara looks anything but convinced, eyes narrow as she takes a few deep swallows of the amber liquid.
When it becomes clear Sara isn't planning to say anything anytime soon, Catherine lets her reason for coming be known, lest they both stand out here in silence for the next hour.
"We got him," Catherine supplies. "Full confession along with all the evidence that matches back to him. It's done."
Sara's expression is hard to read, the brunette not really giving much away as she continues to sip from the bottle in her hand. Catherine knows she must be feeling something, probably a lot of somethings, about the person that violently assaulted her finally being caught and charged. Not to mention the initial homicides being brought to a close.
But, Sara's expression is void of anything easily interpretable. Instead, it's almost like the younger woman is hollow, empty. It does nothing to relieve the blonde's concern for her colleague.
"Thanks," Sara states after a few more tense moments of silence. "For telling me."
She gives Catherine a slight nod, downing the rest of her beer as she reaches to take hold of her headphones that are dangling from her neck.
Sensing where these actions are headed, to a swift dismissal, Catherine reaches out, stilling Sara's movements with her hand.
"That's not all," she says. "We still have the issue of your suspension to discuss."
Sara's body language remains stoic, Catherine's heart increasing in worry as Sara doesn't even attempt to step back from her reach like she almost always has.
"I'm sure you and Captain Brass will proceed how you deem appropriate. I will honor whatever decision is made."
The empty, void tone is still present, sending chills all the way down into the deep places inside Catherine. She suspected something was very off before, now she's sure of it.
"Sara," Catherine is nearly pleading. "Stop this. Whatever is going on with you, please talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about," Sara supplies, her voice quiet, hollow.
"You're scaring me, Sara," Catherine confesses honestly. She may have a complicated relationship with Sara, but she's beyond worried about the other woman, and that takes precedence over all else. She's not too proud to admit to her own feelings of fear and concern, even while her companion seems hell bent on doing the exact opposite – tucking her own emotions so deep inside Catherine wonders if either of them have the ability to reach them anymore. "I'm worried about you."
Sara's brows furrow, confusion the only emotion making its way into her hazel eyes.
"Do you know what it was like for me?" Catherine asks, letting out some of what's been weighing on her own mind for these past days. "Seeing you like that at that scene? Knowing how hurt you were, knowing…"
Catherine clears her throat, trying to get through this.
"Knowing how easily we could've lost you that night?"
Sara's eyes remain dark and the younger woman remains silent.
"When I had to process your injuries, had to see the strongest, noblest person I know be put through everything you went through," Catherine's eyes search the brunette's. "It nearly destroyed me, Sara."
Mustering her courage, Catherine offers her last bit of truth, the final confession flowing from her lips.
"But, that fear pales in comparison to the fear I'm feeling now, have been feeling ever since you ran head first into that scene and came out this empty shell of a person that I don't even recognize."
Sara's throat tightens as she swallows, the first and only sign that Catherine's words have had any effect on the younger woman.
"This person is cold, distant, empty. This person is void of all of the passion and emotion that I loved about my friend. This person doesn't seem to give a shit about herself, and that scares the shit out of me, Sara."
The blonde lets out a tired, nervous breath.
"I hope the Sara that I knew and loved is still in there somewhere. I sincerely hope she's not lost for good. Because, out of everything that's happened, that would be the biggest tragedy of all."
Descending Sara's porch steps, Catherine knows there's really nothing more to be said, nothing more to be done, until Sara decides to let her in.
The knock comes two nights later, just as Catherine is sitting down with a book after putting on some tea.
Glancing at the time, she narrows her eyes to look through the peephole before opening the door at this late hour. It's dark out, but it doesn't take much light to see who's standing there.
Heartrate immediately picking up speed, she pulls the door open.
"Sara?" she questions. "Are you okay?"
Sara nods absently, like she wasn't really paying attention to the question.
"I'm sorry to come by so late."
"Don't worry about it," Catherine waves off the apology. "I was just sitting down to read. Do you want to come in?"
Sara looks hesitant, but the brunette must realize she also can't just keep standing there in the darkness all night.
"Sure," she breathes out quietly. "Thanks."
"Tea?" Catherine offers, gesturing to her own steaming cup she just made that's sitting on the end table.
"No, thanks."
"Coffee?"
Sara hesitates, eyes still not meeting the older woman's.
"I'll consider that a yes."
"You don't have to-"
"Nonsense," Catherine is already half way to the kitchen. "It'll just take a second. Make yourself at home."
She's not sure what exactly Sara's been up to the last two days since she's seen her, but she's positive it isn't sleeping. The young CSI looks like she's about two seconds from dropping from exhaustion. She's not exactly sure coffee is the best idea right now, but she's honestly a little nervous of what'll happen without the much needed caffeine.
When the cup is finished brewing, Catherine fixes it how Sara likes it, carrying the mug carefully out into the living room.
Where she finds Sara in the exact same spot she left her.
"Make yourself at home means you can actually sit on the furniture," Catherine supplies, slight smile gracing her lips.
"Sorry," Sara offers quietly, her tone the complete opposite of the empty, void tone the brunette had mastered lately. In fact, it sounds almost strangled under whatever feelings the brunette is struggling with.
While the blonde is glad to see Sara's stoic façade having been lifted, at least for the moment, what's been revealed underneath is setting alight a whole different set of concerns within the older woman.
"Sit, Sara," Catherine directs, realizing Sara still hasn't moved.
Sara complies, placing herself on the opposite end of the couch, accepting the mug when it's offered to her.
"Thanks," she says, taking what appears to be a long, grateful swallow.
"What's going on, Sara?" Catherine asks after a few moments of silence. "I know I make some wicked fine coffee, but I'm pretty sure that's not why you stopped by at this hour."
Sara nods, taking a deep breath as her head seems to lower slightly.
"I wanted to apologize."
The words are spoken evenly, and were probably the last words Catherine expected to hear.
"I was out of line," Sara continues. "With you. With Brass." She shakes her head, "I don't regret what I did at that scene, I'd do it again if I had the chance. But, the way I handled everything, for that I am sorry."
Catherine lets out a breath, knowing Sara's being honest with her, and knowing that she can't fault the girl for her honest admission regarding her actions at the scene. Her main issue with everything that transpired has been Sara's attitude, and if Sara's here to address that, Catherine can learn to let the other part go.
"I was beyond disrespectful to you, Catherine. You are my supervisor, and you deserved better from me."
"Sara," Catherine breathes out. "Let's forget formalities for the time being. I'm not your supervisor and you're not my subordinate right now, you're my friend. You talk to me tonight openly, say whatever you need to say. Everything is off the record and just two friends having a conversation. Okay?"
Sara looks uncomfortable, but she eventually nods.
"Good. Now, please, tell me what has been going on with you?" Catherine nearly begs.
While Sara's apologies for her treatment of Catherine and Brass is a good starting point, it's not the true area of concern for the blonde. It's not what's had her lying awake at night worrying about her colleague. Hell, she'd take Sara yelling at her or disrespecting her any day over the vacant and hollow alternative that's taken over her friend ever since.
"I needed to feel something."
The words are so quiet, so low, that Catherine has to play them though her mind a few times before she fully comprehends them.
"Feel something?" she questions, not quite understanding what Sara is saying.
"At the scene, going after the suspect. It was to catch him, of course, but I also needed…to feel." Sara's eyes are low, staring through the coffee in her hands. "Danger, fear, pain. Anything. I just needed to feel something."
"When did you stop feeling things?" Catherine questions, starting to get the barest glimmer of what Sara's confessing to her.
"A little bit here and there," Sara says quietly, voice almost sounding ashamed. "Then, after the assault at the scene…"
Catherine's eyes close briefly under the weight of the emotions running through her. "You stopped feeling altogether," she finishes for the brunette.
Sara nods, eyes dark and heavy. "I felt the pain of the injuries, but also this numbness, slowly taking over until it just…took over everything." She clears her throat, shaking her head slowly. "It's how I've always coped with things, in the past. My body shuts down, then my mind, until it's like watching the world around me from the bottom of the ocean. I'm there, but…removed."
Sara's hands tighten on her mug.
"I'm sorry that I scared you," she says. "I'm not used to…having people notice when it happens."
Catherine releases a short breath, "Of course I noticed, Sara. One of the things I love most about you is your passion, that stubborn Sidle spirit and dogged determination that's always smoldering right beneath the surface. When that light inside you went out, you're damn right I noticed."
Sara's eyes lift, searching the woman next to her – for what, Catherine isn't sure.
"I need you to promise me something, Sara," Catherine states into the silence between them.
Sara's eyes leave hers, but the younger woman nods.
"When it happens to you again, the next time something happens to make you feel numb and detached, you come and find me. You come talk to me, you tell me." Catherine places her hand on Sara's thigh. "What you don't do is go head first into the first dangerous situation you can find to try to force yourself to go back to feeling something."
Catherine's free hand reaches out, tilting Sara's chin up until the younger woman is facing her.
"Promise me."
Sara swallows, head shaking slightly, "I don't want you to see me when I'm like that, Catherine."
"And I don't want to see you in a body bag on Doc Robbins' table," Catherine counters sternly. "So you promise me, Sara Sidle."
The searching look is back in the brunette's eyes, but this time perhaps she finds what she seeks in Catherine's.
"I promise."
Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, the blonde does what she's been waiting what feels like a lifetime to do. Pulling Sara in, she wraps her arms around the taller woman, mindful of her injuries, but holding her tightly.
"I thought I'd lost you," Catherine whispers out, eyes closing into the material of Sara's shirt. They both know the multiple meanings behind Catherine's words.
"I'm sorry," Sara breathes out.
"Never again do you do this to me," Catherine states tightly, holding Sara firmly. "Never again."
Sara nods, her silent promise to the older woman.
Sara keeps her promise, though somewhat hesitantly, over the next six months. The occurrences are few, but they're equally jarring both times. One precipitated by an anguishing case, a perpetrator known to have murdered and assaulted nearly fifteen college women, escaping any charges due to a technicality. The second was a victim, just a child, that the team just wasn't smart enough, wasn't quick enough, to save.
Each time there was the anger, Sara escaping immediately after shift to hit the nearest gym, trying to purge her emotions out through pushing her body to its very limits. But, all that did was empty her, until there was nothing left.
Both instances found Sara on Catherine's porch, eyes dim and bordering on vacant. Both times Catherine knew instantly what was happening, ushering the young CSI inside without a word. It usually took some finesse, some creativity and a fair amount of time, but Catherine finally ushered the brunette back into a normal headspace both instances.
Watching the woman each time it happened, Catherine also began to understand just a little bit better what was going on. It's like Sara's mind needed to find an escape, shutting itself down until it was ready to cope with what it was that sent it retreating. Protecting itself, and its owner, from harm until it could forge its way through the situation and the emotions successfully.
It's a coping mechanism Catherine has seen before, usually in those who've experienced traumatic events – ones so severe they cause the mind to separate from reality because it simply cannot fathom or process through the events around it. She wishes like hell she knew what it was that first formed this response in the woman she now considers a close friend.
But, she never asks.
And, perhaps that respect of privacy is why Sara trusts her enough to keep coming back. Keep upholding her end of the promise.
Including tonight.
Except tonight, Catherine, for the first time, isn't sure she can bring Sara back. She's tried everything that has previously worked, but this time with no avail. She even went so far as to gather the young woman into a freezing cold shower, trying to jolt her back into the present when her gentler tactics all failed miserably. Perhaps not the safest of approaches, but she'd grown desperate.
But, instead, all it did is leave her friend wet and shivering, no closer to seeing any sort of recognition in those hazel eyes.
Debating the rights and wrongs of her one last idea, Catherine finally goes for it, knowing she can debate the ethics of it later. Once she has Sara safely back.
Slowly, gently, she places her lips against Sara's forehead, then her cheek, finally ghosting over the younger woman's lips. Sara's body is still, quiet, motionless. Running her hand through the taller woman's still wet hair, Catherine deepens the kiss, giving it one final shot. If Sara still isn't responding, then this plan that already felt a bit violating certainly becomes so.
Just as she's about to pull away with a sigh, Sara's body responds, slightly angling her head down to deepen the kiss. The movements are slow, tentative, but they're there.
Then, suddenly, Sara is pushing away.
Eyes glancing around her, Sara notes their placement in Catherine's bathroom, her clothes dripping cold water onto the tile floor.
"Cath?" she questions, voice nearly a whisper as her eyes drop down to the blonde's lips, hand tracing over her own, fingers trembling.
"I'm sorry," Catherine immediately responds, watching Sara try to work through what just happened. "I didn't know what else to do."
Something passes through Sara's eyes, the brunette stiffening slightly as she takes a step back to place a few more inches between them.
"Oh," she gets out, taking a deep breath.
"I'm sorry if I overstepped," Catherine apologizes, taking in Sara's slightly dismayed expression. "I didn't mean to offend you."
Shaking her head, Sara keeps the distance between them. "You didn't."
Then, glancing up, Sara's cheeks redden slightly before she looks away again. "I should go," she says quietly, "I've already inconvenienced you enough for one day."
"Sara," Catherine responds gently, wanting to put a stop to this dance they always seem to do after these encounters. The dances that are equal parts shame and embarrassment from Sara, no matter how many times Catherine insists that she's glad to help, honored and proud that Sara is keeping up her end of the bargain. But, the private brunette usually just ignores those sentiments, much like she appears to be doing now, and excuses herself from the blonde's presence the first possible moment.
Catherine gets it, she herself hating to appear vulnerable and in need to those around her, but she wished Sara wouldn't keep running away from these moments.
"You okay?" Catherine asks instead, wanting to be sure that Sara's enough in the present now to drive safely home.
"Yeah," Sara nods, taking a steadying breath in before lifting her eyes back up to Catherine's. "Thank you."
"Always," Catherine responds.
Sara steps slightly to the right, trying to avoid dripping on Catherine's floor as she moves past the older woman.
"Will you please at least let me give you some dry clothes?" Catherine follows her out of the bathroom. "You're going to freeze to death on your way home."
Sara's brow lifts slightly as she looks for her keys, "It's like sixty something degrees outside, Catherine. Freezing to death seems highly improbable."
"Alright, smartass," Catherine rolls her own eyes, "but it doesn't mean it's comfortable."
Lowering her voice the blonde picks up the brunette's keys in her hands from their place near the kitchen table, holding them tightly.
"Before I let you go, please tell me we're okay," she requests, watching Sara's eyes move from hers to the keys held hostage in her hand.
"Why wouldn't we be?" Sara questions evenly, tone impossible to read.
"I kissed you, Sara."
Sara's eyes narrow just slightly enough for Catherine to notice.
"Well, like you said, you were just doing what you had to do, right?" Sara's voice is tight.
It's then that Catherine has two options, to run and brush this under the rug like Sara seems to assume will happen. Or, she can be honest. With herself. With Sara.
"What if it was more than that?" Catherine questions into the quiet house, gaze desperately searching Sara's. "What if…"
Taking a deep breath, she takes the leap.
"What if I said I wanted to do it again?" Catherine's heart bangs nervously in her chest. "What if I said I've wanted to do it ever since that night I got that call saying that we almost lost you? What if I said I've wanted to do it nearly every time I saw you between now and then?"
Sara is quiet, eerily so, her body stiff and her hands in motionless fists.
"What are…," the brunette swallows, "what are you saying, Catherine?"
"I'm saying I've been an idiot, ignoring what I knew all along right in front of me, assuming I had more time to figure things out. And then I almost lost that chance, and you."
"If this is you feeling guilty for some reason, or trying to cope with-"
"Sara," Catherine cuts in, moving closer to place them nearly inches apart. "Shut up and listen to what I'm telling you."
Reaching out, she places her hand along the brunette's cheek, tracing her thumb down the cool skin atop her cheekbone.
"I have feelings for you, Sara Sidle," Catherine spells out evenly, voice wavering slightly at the vulnerable position she's placed herself in. "I'm not feeling guilty or having some sort of coping mechanism of my own after nearly losing you. I'm just finally doing something about it because I had a wakeup call that night about just how quickly the people around us can be taken away. I don't want something to happen to me or to you and never have told you how I feel."
At Sara's continued silence, Catherine grows increasingly insecure. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should've just kept these feelings to herself where they belong. Especially when Sara's still going through all the stuff she's currently dealing with. After all, she just barely got back to fully physically recovered from her injuries a few days ago, now Catherine is dumping this at her feet?
"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Catherine backtracks, "and you don't have to say anything in response. I shouldn't have even brought it up, at least not now when you've had such a shitty night, not to mention year-"
"Catherine."
"I was out of line to say something, especially when you've trusted me with helping you through these events, and now I go and violate that trust by-"
"Catherine."
Sara reaches over, placing her hands on Catherine's arms, the physical contact finally drawing the blonde's words to a stop.
"Now you're the one who needs to 'shut up and listen' to what I'm going to tell you."
Catherine's eyes are nervous, her whole body nearly shaking as she realizes the significance of what she's done. That years of hiding from this have come to an end. And, that her relationship, friendship or otherwise, with Sara likely is about to be coming to an end as well.
"I feel the same, Catherine."
Catherine blinks, then blinks again.
Smiling slightly, Sara takes in her confused expression.
"How could I not?" Sara shakes her head in disbelief at Catherine's confusion. "One of the smartest, kindest, funniest, and most beautiful women I've ever met. I just," Sara shrugs slightly. "I just always assumed you were so far out of my league that I didn't even allow myself to go down that road."
"What are you saying, Sara?" Catherine states, inadvertently repeating Sara's earlier words right back to her.
Leaning in, Sara hovers just shy of Catherine's lips, hesitating a brief moment before closing the distance and kissing the older woman. It's gentle, soft, and filled with so much adoration that it takes Catherine's breath away.
"That's what I'm saying," Sara whispers, eyes closed as she returns her lips to the blonde's.
When they finally pull apart, their breathing is heavy, their gazes even more so. So many unspoken thoughts, feelings, bottled up all those years.
Catherine can only pray they now have a lifetime to unravel them, together.
"I'm sorry," Sara gets out, drawing Catherine's eyes narrow in confusion. Gesturing downward, Sara grimaces slightly. "I got you all wet."
Catherine notes her now damp clothing, not caring in the least.
Raising a brow at the wording of Sara's statement, she can't help but smile, "Got me all wet, huh?"
Realizing the double meaning, Sara's cheeks redden. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"
Catherine laughs, letting out a relieved smile along with it, still in disbelief that they're here in this moment, together, feeling the same way.
"Never said I minded, Sidle," Catherine takes hold of Sara's waist with a playful wink, pulling her back up against her. "Now, kiss me again, and this time…please don't stop."
Sara smiles warmly, nudging her nose gently against Catherine's before leaning down to reconnect their lips, much more passionately, "Yes ma'am."
THE END
AN: Thanks for reading.