Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or anything relating to them, I'm just borrowing them to satisfy my crazy imagination. As this is a piece of fiction, the content is not 100% accurate to real life...I'm exaggerating certain aspects for the interest of the story...call it creative license. Any references to real life events; anything I may have read, seen or heard are completely unintentional and coincidental. I gain nothing from this, so please don't sue me or threaten to kill me. Any and all mistakes are mine. Also, any names, places or references are purely fictional!
A/N: Hello, thanks for the review edge15684 !! I'm kinda at a crossroad here, I'm not satisfied with my work thus far on this story, but I still have many ideas I want to get out there...I'm contemplating the possibility of removing or re-posting some of the previous chapters once I revamp them a bit. I think I got too ahead of myself with this story and I just need to settle and get back to the basics. I don't want to break any rules, so I'm investigating what my options are. Thanks for sticking with me though and I apologize this wasn't my better work.
I really don't know what to say or do anymore...what else can life throw at me? My life is over. I don't know if it's part of the denial, but I honestly still don't believe that Gil is dead...not that it really matters anymore though.
According to the rest of the world, Gil is dead and I murdered him. Forget the whole presumed innocent until proven guilty crap...everyone went along with the quick and easy solution of believing I did it...and they sold the rogue, jealous CSI story to the jury...who enjoyed the theatrics and ate it all up.
That's right...I Sara Sidle have been convicted of first degree murder in the death of Gil Grissom and I have been sentenced to die by lethal injection.
I have never felt so vulnerable and exposed before in my life...and that's saying a lot given my past. In front of all those people...including the staff who I had considered my extended family, my whole past was brought up and all of my skeletons were exposed.
The prosecution even tried to bring down my character based on how I grew up constantly surrounded by abuse and how as a child I witnessed my mother brutally murder my father. They hinted that Grissom was taking the place of my father and that if they ever find his body, they will probably see that I stabbed him in a similar way that my father was. The way they painted and embellished the story to the jury, I'm not really surprised they bought it and sentenced me to die.
I really tried not to look at the team when my deepest secrets and pain were exposed...although I did catch a glimpse at Catherine who began to sob at the mention of the child abuse I experienced. I guess she knows now why I always 'lost it at the first sign of domestic abuse'...
After spending several days in holding, I was moved to the prison and was placed in my new cell with another inmate. We haven't talked or acknowledged each other much. At least she doesn't seem to recognize me.
I wonder how many women in this facility I've actually placed here as a CSI...I'm sure I'll find out soon enough...
I can't believe this is all happening, it still feels like a bad nightmare. Grissom, the love of my life is dead...and the last words I said to him were in anger...and everyone thinks I murdered him; I'm going to die because of it.
But at this point...my life is already over and not worth living anyway. I guess it's better this way...at least in death I'll be with my love again...I'll see Grissom again soon.
What I wouldn't give to be able to hold him right now. With even the simplest looks or gestures he'd be able to calm my entire being. I drew so much strength from him everyday...I wish I told him that more. I wasted so much time dancing around my feelings and putting off things until later...but there isn't a later for us anymore.
It kills me to think that his...body...is out there somewhere, tossed away like trash. That the very bugs he studied and revered are attacking the shell of what he once was.
I wonder what he thought and felt at the end. I hope to God that he wasn't in too much pain. I hope he knew how much I loved him.
When I'm hooked up in the death chamber, my last thoughts will be of him...I just hope he's up there waiting for me.
In the cold, dark windy desert; locked away unknown to all around him, Gil Grissom stirs once again.
Like wild flashes of energy, jumbled memories and thoughts slowly return as Grissom returns to the land of the living.
Where am I and what in the name of God is going on?! Am I awake? Is this even real?
Panic floods Grissom's body and the mixture of adrenaline and fear slowly starts to return his senses.
I wish I knew what the hell is going on! I am so horribly confused. What drug is this sadistic bastard giving me?
Since I'm apparently being drugged on and off I can't tell the passage of time...I have no idea what day it is or how long I've been here. I'm really trying not to panic, but how can I not!
Lifting his bound hands gingerly up to his face, he manages to run his hand down the side of his cheek and feels the stubble of his beard.
I guess I've been down in this dungeon for a while...Whoever kidnapped me must be drugging the food or water... I don't seem to have any new needle punctures...but why would they even go through the trouble?
Shifting his body weight enough to the side given his bonds, Grissom manages to sit himself up and prop himself against the cold cement wall behind him.
One of the few things that does ease my stress level just a bit is the fact I know the team is looking for me...just like they did for Nick.
I just hope to God that Sara's okay...that she's taking this better than I would if our roles were reversed. She's such a strong woman...but I know inside she's torturing herself to death. I just hope the rest of the team are helping her out...they are like our extended family.
Wiping a tear that he didn't know he shed out of his eye, Grissom closes his eyes and pictures Sara's smiling face.
I'm going to allow myself this time to feel bad...and sorry for myself...but then I have to be more productive. Until I can figure out when and how I'm being drugged, I don't know how much time I have of coherent thought. I need to make the most of the time I have...I try to plan an escape.
With his eyes adjusted to his dark confines, Grissom is able to make out the definitions of the room. The cold damp cement walls tell him that he must be underground.
I have every confidence in my team and their skills...but I also have to help myself out. If I'm underground, how will they find me?
Panic grips him again and he finds himself instinctively hyperventilating. His mouth goes dry and his body begins to quiver. Looking a few feet in front of him he sees a bottle of water and reaches for it with his bound shaky hands. He maneuvers the lid open and takes several long gulps before closing his eyes and resting his head back against the wall.
After several minutes of deep breathing and mental chastising, Grissom's head begins to slump forward and he unwilling reenters the realm of sleep.
Back in the prison, the sounds of women yelling and swearing jerk Sara awake from her tenuous sleep. She jumps slightly and it takes several moments for her to figure out where she is.
This isn't my room...where...oh God, it wasn't a nightmare...
Quietly glancing around the room without moving, Sara tries to judge if her cellmate has woken up as well. The light snoring that emanates from the bunk above her tells her she's safe still.
Well, I survived my first night in the Nevada state prison. It actually wasn't that bad all things considered. Granted the food sucked and the bed is uncomfortable...but not a whole lot happened. I'd rather stay under the radar.
Loud clinking of the cell doors opening followed by the booming voices of the guards jerks Sara out of her silent contemplation.
Guards storm down the halls in front of their cell and the inmates are all systematically let out into the mess hall for chow. Sara can't help but feel a mixture of confusion and fear as she follows the group of women down the hall.
Where am I supposed to sit? Is there a rule? I have no idea what to do. God, this almost feels like high school with all the cliques and groups that clutter together...I hated high school...
They are herded like cattle to the kitchen and a big burly woman slops some green mush unto her food tray and hands her a milk. Sara quietly finds an unoccupied table in the corner of the room and sits down glancing at the foul looking concoction on her plate.
I can't believe my attorney didn't get me off...I'm sure that Ecklie, the sheriff and the pressure of their best CSI being killed had a hand in my being found guilty so fast. I guess I was the perfect scapegoat.
I know it had to have some degree of inside involvement...in the normal world there is no way a CSI with no history of breaking the law or criminal involvement would be charged and sentenced to the murder of a fellow CSI and be put on death row...without even a body being found.
But you know what, since all I have left right now is time anyway, I'm going to pour my remaining energy into finding who really murdered Grissom...at least then when I meet him in the next life, I'll know I served his memory well.
Oh God Gil, I miss u so much baby...I hope you're watching over me...help give me the strength to see this through to the end...please...I don't want to be alone...
Suddenly her thoughts are interrupted as a fellow inmate walks closely past Sara before stopping and getting in her face. The woman doesn't say a word but pierces Sara with her ice like light blue eyes before spitting on Sara's shoe and storming away.
So much for flying under the radar...this isn't going to be good. How did my life come to this?! I guess some people aren't meant to be happy...