Title: Supernova
A/N: To forewarn any readers, I haven't made a decision about whether there will be any relationships in the story (I'm pretty sure the story has a mind of its own…) Any and all feedback is appreciated. Please forgive me for my grammar and/or spelling errors. This has been edited (twice!) but there is always something that slips through…
Thanks for all the reviews – I appreciated everyone who took the time to read and review! Thank you to adpi 24 and Burked for noticing my inadvertent use of LA to describe Las Vegas (I have *hopefully* changed it so to avoid further confusion.) Thanks to Greggo'sGirl for the encouragement. Thank you to pdhtgal and SAR for their feedback on my writing style.
Disclaimer: The television program 'CSI: Crime Scene Investigation' still does not belong to me.
Spoilers: "Playing with Fire," "Inside the Box"
***
The drive back to the lab was quiet; traffic on the back streets of Vegas was rarely busy, but tonight there was barely a car in sight. Sara absently changed the radio station as she waited for a light to turn green, searching for something to fill the silence. After discarding several stations, she heard the smoky voice of the DJ announce a dedication.
"This song goes out to Madison. It's Savage Garden and "You Can Still be Free."
***
Cool breeze and autumn leaves
Slow motion daylight
A lone pair of watchful eyes
Oversee the living
Feel the presence all around
A tortured soul
A wound unhealing
No regrets or promises
The past is gone
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
***
Sara never was a fan of Billboard music, but the light changed before she could find another station. As her tires swished noisily through a lonely puddle in the middle of the road, she listened to the lyrics.
***
Time now to spread your wings
To take to flight
The life endeavor
Aim for the burning sun
You're trapped inside
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
But it's a long long way to go
***
As she turned into the lab's parking lot, she laughed slightly at the stream of lyrics pouring from the speakers, obviously intended to have a motivational or provocative effect. Still, when she had found a parking spot and carefully negotiated into it, she waited in the car, listening to the song.
***
Keep moving way up high
You see the light
It shines forever
Sail through the crimson skies
The purest light
The light that sets you free
If time will set you free
***
There was something slightly haunting about the song. Behind the distinct pop music, the lyrics resonated soundly within her. It reminded her of her mother, simultaneously whimsical and inspiring, but eerie nonetheless. It reminded her that, despite her decisive resolution that she didn't care whether Grissom wanted a relationship with her or not, she was still chained to him. She had worshipped him too long and been in love with him too long to move away from him. It would take time to leave him behind, time to move on to someone new.
***
Sail through the wind and rain tonight
You're free to fly tonight
And you can still be free
If time will set you free
And going higher than mountain tops
And go high the wind won't stop
And go high
Free to fly tonight
Free to fly tonight
***
Sara shut the ignition off abruptly. Glancing at her watch, she hurried towards the entrance. She was late.
As she approached the inner office, she observed the lab was quiet. Greg, tucked away in his lab as usual, was unusually subdued. Even though Grissom was absent, Greg's stereo remained silent. Briefly, Sara wished wistfully that his ridiculous music was blaring into the hall. The halls, silent except for the occasional click of someone's shoes, appeared institutional. It reminded her of the nursing home she'd visited as a child, a place full of life but devoid of soul.
Nick burst out of the break room, moving rapidly towards her at a half job. He halted beside her, and spoke brusquely.
"Come on. We're needed in the morgue."
Sara followed, surprised by his terse request. Nick was one of the most affable individuals she'd ever met. It was rare to see him without a welcoming smile. His gruff manner was completely out of the ordinary.
Nick spoke swiftly as she jogged to keep up with his quick pace.
"We have a triple homicide. Catherine's unreachable, and Grissom's out for a family emergency. Warrick's got a guy from the dayshift with him and they're going to take another call. This investigation really is a four-person job, but it's just the two of us now. Brass is calling in Ecklie to take charge of the other investigation so Warrick can give us a hand."
A response wasn't necessary from Sara. It was understood that if Brass was worried enough to risk Grissom's wrath by calling in Ecklie to cover a night shift case, the investigation must be huge.
At the door of the morgue, Nick turned to face Sara.
"This isn't going to be pretty," he warned.
Sara frowned. Dead bodies rarely were pretty. What made these bodies particularly bad?
Dr. Robbins nodded in the general direction of Nick and Sara when they entered the morgue. Nick approached the table in the centre. To its left lay two body bags on separate tables. Dr. Robbins was carefully extracting a sample of fluid from the eye of the victim when she reached the table.
The body of the table looked vaguely familiar, but Sara couldn't tell beneath the bruising on the face. She peered closer, looking for an identifying feature. A closer look at the eyes was all she needed. Sara glanced up at Nick, looking for some acknowledgement that her identification was correct.
Nick nodded slowly.
Sara shook her head in disbelief. This investigation wasn't just huge, it was going to be front page, twenty-four hours a day news coverage too. Nick was right when he said this wasn't going to be pretty. The girl lying lifeless on the table wasn't just another girl. It was local piano prodigy Brooke Matthews, who also happened to be the mayor's daughter.
