Chapter Title: Rain
Chapter Author: Emily ([email protected])
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: CSI and it's characters do not belong to us. This is a work of fiction, written for enjoyment purposes only, and we are not profiting in any way.
Author's Note: This is chapter one in a round robin. Please note that I am the author of this chapter alone. Also, this chapter was inspired by the song 'Picture' by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow.
~*~*~*~
The rain pelted against the glass window, the thunder rumbled loudly in the background, and bursts of lightning illuminated the small motel room where Sara Sidle lay in bed, pillow clutched tightly against her trembling body. Tears slowly traced paths down her cheeks, matching the steadily falling rain outside.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, and silently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake the man sleeping soundly beside her. She headed towards the balcony, but paused, turning back and grabbing the bottle of cheap wine and her purse from the nightstand. She pulled the handle on the glass door and it opened with a loud clatter, and Sara quickly turned back to make sure her companion was still asleep. He rolled over and his soft snoring grew louder, and she knew she didn't have to worry.
She cautiously stepped out onto the balcony and closed the door behind her, walking out further and leaning against the railing. Her hair whipped into her face as the fierce wind and rain screamed around her, but she didn't care. She took a deep breath, her eyes taking in the lights of Las Vegas as she took a swig of the bottle in her hand.
She looked down at the people rushing around, hailing cabs even at three thirty in the morning as they fought to stay dry in the relentless rain. A week before all anyone could talk about was the scorching heat and unyielding sun, praying for rain. The weathermen had predicted the storm, and people had rejoiced. But it had been raining nonstop for so long, and all anyone could do was pray for it to end.
Sara let out a cold, humorless laugh. Hypocrites. All of them. Nobody was ever satisfied with anything anymore. It was always too hot, too cold, too dry, too wet. But never a happy medium. People prayed for it to rain, and when the rain came, they prayed for it to stop. Once they got what they wanted, they suddenly desired something else. Much like someone she knew, Sara thought to herself, before pushing the thought away and taking another swig of the wine bottle.
But she had always loved the rain. Loved the comforting, rhythmic sound as it hit the roof at night, loved the familiar scent of it when it had gone, loved the feelings it evoked in a person. Her lips curled into an ironic smirk, recalling the last time it had rained like this. Recalling the arms that held her as the torrents fell from the sky. Recalling the hot kisses trailed down her neck as he told her he loved her.
'So much for that,' she thought, taking another gulp from the bottle. She opened her now soaking purse and pulled out a crumpled picture. A soft smile crossed her lips as she remembered the day it had been taken. It had been right after they had started dating, at Catherine's Christmas party. Standing under the mistletoe, his chiseled arms around her shoulders as she looked up at him, and him offering the camera a lopsided grin as he kissed her cheek. She had always loved that picture and kept it with her at all times.
Sara turned her head and glanced into the room, where he was still sleeping. She thought his name was Tim, or maybe Tom. She couldn't be sure; it had happened so quickly. She quickly looked back at the picture in her hands, a raindrop falling on his smiling face as she brushed a stray tear from her eye and tore it up, sprinkling the pieces across Las Vegas.
"Good-bye, Nick," she whispered, her tiny voice lost in the howling wind.
~*~*~*~
Nick laid in bed, unable to sleep with the rain pounding relentlessly on the window. He glanced quickly at the woman sleeping soundly beside him, her blonde tresses spread seductively across the pillow, her lips curled into a small smile as her chest rose and fell with each breath she took.
Ashleigh was beautiful and kind and funny, and yet Nick couldn't feel anything but guilt and shame for being with her. He wished that he could go back to three days ago, three days ago when Sara hadn't known, three days ago when he could have ended it and Sara wouldn't have to find out.
No, he thought to himself, he wished he could go back to four months ago, four months ago before their world fell apart with the doctor's one regretful shake of the head when he told them the news that left them heartbroken.
Nick shook his head as he grabbed the whiskey bottle from the nightstand and took a gulp. No, he told himself as he wiped his mouth with his wrist, no, he wouldn't think about that again, nor would be blame what was happening on that. He had screwed up, and he had to pay. Nick stole another glance at Ashleigh, still sleeping beside him, and smiled half-heartedly. He turned and looked at the framed picture on his nightstand, taking it in his hand and studying it as he took another swig of whiskey. He studied Sara's face smiling up at him, her gap-toothed grin sending a familiar warmth through his body. His face suddenly fell into a frown and pulled open the drawer, stuffing the picture inside.
He couldn't look at her, not when he was lying next to Ashleigh.
Nick rose from the bed, untangling himself from the sheets, suddenly sick with himself. He walked towards the window and leaned against the cool glass as he gazed out at the rain falling steadily over Las Vegas.
He knew that somewhere she was awake, watching the rainfall as he was, probably cursing him, possibly crying. He let his forehead rest on the glass as he wondered where she was, how she was doing, how much he had hurt her. Catherine knew where she was but wouldn't tell him, not that he could blame her. He knew that he didn't deserve her. Not after all that had happened.
He took another swig of the whiskey bottle and closed his eyes, as the memories came flooding back.