Summary: After viewing a horrific accident, Sara makes some hard decisions
about her life. Obviously, a Sara-centered story, but with lots of
friendship and a little bit of G/S at the end.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 16 - At last to be identified!
The drive back to the lab had been quiet and uneventful. Grissom's mind kept drifting back to the feel of Sara's body in his arms, occasionally stealing glances at the woman sitting beside him. If she hadn't been so tense, he would have smiled at the memories. Well, there would be time for more memories later.
Pulling into the garage, he let Sara out and went to park in the lot. Reaching into the back, he removed a stack of old forensic journals. Grissom had selected some of his favorite articles that examined unusual cases or interesting evidence. If Sara got bored again tonight, at least he had something that could help alleviate it.
Dropping the magazines in his office, Grissom headed to the break room for coffee. He found Sara going through that night's offerings from the public. The amount was decreasing. "What came tonight?" he asked, causing her to jump. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."
Sara blushed deeply and muttered something so softly he couldn't make out what she said. He realized how embarrassing her nervousness must be. "It's okay," she finally said aloud, wrapping her arms around herself.
"It'll get better, Sara. It just takes time," he said kindly, wondering why she was giving him such a disbelieving look. After taking a deep breath, she handed him a gilded envelope.
"For you," she said softly. "For all you did tonight."
Opening the envelope, he found a gift certificate for L'Bonhomme, one of the city's more exclusive restaurants. He looked at her. "When do you want to go?"
"What?" Sara looked completely shocked. Grissom regretted the bluntness he had used to turn down her dinner request months ago. She still didn't trust him, apparently.
"When do you want to go?" Grissom repeated with a gentle smile. "It's good for dinner for two."
"I gave it you, Grissom. Take someone you want to go with," she said without any rancor.
"I think I just asked someone I want to go with," he replied.
Sara crossed her arms to stare at him in a mixture of confusion and pain. Before Grissom could think of anything to say, Catherine wandered in, yawning deeply. She glanced from one to the other, raising an enquiring eyebrow at Grissom. Walking over, she handed Sara her bag and cell phone. "Hey. Thought you might want these back," she said kindly.
"Thanks," Sara said, waiting a few moments before breaking her contact with Grissom. "Here, Cath. For you and Linds," the brunette moved through a stack of envelopes before picking some out.
Catherine took them with a curious expression. "Full spa service at Mandalay Bay and passes to the Tangier's amusement park," she said.
Sara held up several more envelopes. "Guess no one wanted Bellagio's to have all the free press," she said. The luxury hotel had been quick to take advantage of a last-minute wedding cancellation to offer the ballroom to host Friday's awards ceremony. They also supplied a suite for Sara's parents to use that weekend. "Passes to the Hard Rock Cafe for Greg, tickets to the fights at the MGM for Nick, Warrick can have the passes for the raves at the Sphere, bunch of free meals to whoever wants them."
"What are you keeping for yourself?" Catherine asked with a laugh.
"Nothing." Sara's tone was quiet but serious.
"Why not?" the blonde asked her, but Sara took advantage of Nick's arrival to avoid the question. Catherine moved to Grissom. "What's up?"
"I'm not sure," he whispered. "Want some coffee?" He called loudly when Sara turned to watch the duo's conversation.
Sara shook her head. "Do you have anything for me tonight?"
"Yeah. The effects from the Wang murder. Go over it for trace evidence," he said, watching as she hurried from the room.
"Guys, is Sara okay?" Nick asked quietly.
Neither of his supervisors could answer his question.
~~~~~~~~
A small groan escaped from Grissom's lips as he opened another folder. He would swear in court that it hadn't been that full earlier. Cursing the efficiency with which processed wood cellulose could procreate, he began determining which of this could be ignored for another night. His migraine had gone away for the most part, but an annoying remnant remained. Paperwork wasn't helping. Nor was the serious lack of sleep he'd had last two days.
Despite his condition, a sad smile formed. His discomfort wasn't anything compared to what Sara must be going through. If he lost some sleep in the process of helping her, he wouldn't complain. Overall, dinner had been nice. Afterwards had been even better. They'd have to do that more often.
Later. Grissom recalled Catherine's warning. He'd let Sara have some time first. She needed it. It was distressing to see her so upset. Sara was normally so in control. He'd call Philip in the morning for more advice. He wouldn't let Sara go through this alone.
Luckily, there had been some work for her to do tonight. Warrick's murder victim from Henderson had clothes that needed to be analyzed for trace materials. Given the intensity with which she had gone over that pick-up last night, Grissom was sure Sara would have isolated the individual sheep which had contributed to Wang's suit by morning.
He'd check with Catherine to see if Sara could stay with her again. The number of reporters outside the lab had dropped noticeably. After the memorial this evening and the awards ceremony tomorrow morning, Grissom hoped they would leave Sara alone. The funerals started on Sunday, maybe they would move on to those. He hoped she could start to relax once the media attention was gone.
A note caught his attention. This one couldn't be ignored. Sara wouldn't like it.
Heading to the Layout Room, he found her trying to pick up a fiber with a pair of tweezers. Her hands were shaking too badly and she couldn't grip the material. Grissom hated to bother her, knowing she would be ashamed to be caught like this.
"Sara?" As he thought, she jumped and blushed deeply. He gave her a gentle smile. "Sorry. Again. When Nick gets back, I need for you to review the evidence from the Baugher case with him."
"Why? I'm supposed to testify in that case next week," she said warily, trying to keep her voice calm. She had had another flashback from the blood spatter on Wang's clothes.
"Sorry. The defense attorney filed a motion. She's claiming her client can't get a fair trial with you testifying. You're a hero; it'll sway the jury. Anyway, rather than wait for this to die down, the DA wants to go ahead with Nick testifying instead. The evidence will get him," he said kindly. "I'm sorry, Sara. It's not my choice. Oh, I had a message from Philip. He'll call in the morning."
She nodded and gripped the table with both hands to prevent Grissom from seeing how badly she was shaking or the fear in her eyes. She couldn't go to a scene, she couldn't handle evidence, now she couldn't even go to court. What was left?
~~~~~~~~
"No good. This sample is too damaged," Doctor Robbins said, lifting his head up from his microscope. So far, he had been unable to pinpoint the exact cause of death for the Lawrence boy. On a gross scale, it was easy to determine what killed him: severe internal injuries. The boy's ribcage had been so badly broken it was almost nonexistent. Given the nature of the crash, it wasn't surprising. Reports from the scene indicated fire fighters had to cut the charred remains out of the twisted wreckage.
This was the child whose name had caused Sara's reaction in the morgue. It was the same child about whom a reporter was asking extremely detailed questions. The young CSI had been afraid she had left a child behind in the fire. Robbins hoped the autopsy would show the boy had died before the fire, for Sara's peace of mind.
Normally, a blood test for carboxyhemoglobin would show if the boy had died before the fire. The compound formed only when carbon monoxide was breathed in. But the heat from the fire had damaged the blood too severely to test.
Instead, they were checking the lungs. If there were soot present in the interior of the lobes, it would mean the boy had been alive during the fire. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to find a sample clear enough to answer their questions.
David prepared another piece of tissue for the coroner, and then bent closer to the body, examining the chest cavity in more detail. It didn't take Robbins long to let out a whoop. "Good job! This sample is perfect. Let's hope it tells us what we need to know."
The coroner's assistant looked up, with a sad smile before returning to his examination. A faint glint caught his eye. Moving in closer, David called out to the coroner. "Doc, I think you better look at this."
~~~~~~~~
In the Drying Room, Sara sorted through the items, looking for Winchell Wang's clothes. She had managed to finally bring her breathing back to something close to normal. Grissom's had startled her more than Sara liked to admit. She had slept, had very little caffeine today. She couldn't blame her nervousness on those. How could she ever hope to return to a crime scene if every noise made her jump?
She knew she wasn't being kept in the lab because of the press. They wanted to make sure she was still stable after the accident. Sara could quote the statistics easily: ten percent of the population would develop post- traumatic stress disorder at some point in their life; many more suffered some of the symptoms, without meeting the clinical definition of mental illness. Women were more likely to suffer than men. She tried not to think of the recovery rates.
Pushing those thoughts down, Sara continued her quest. Work was all she had left. She would focus on solving this murder. Nothing could ever repair the damage she had done, but she would devote everything she had left to helping other victims.
Moving down the racks, Sara pushed past a set of heavily stained clothes. The smell of smoke paralyzed her. Startled eyes darted to the nametag: "Sidle, Sara". The jeans, shirt and jacket had been so bloodstained she hadn't recognized them as her own.
The smoke coming off the truck had been thick and oily. It couldn't cover the smell of viscera, though. The smoke started to fill the interior of the bus, limiting her vision. Her jacket sleeves had been soaked by the blood draining out of Hunter's body.
She stumbled to the door, grinning widely to suppress the gag reflex. The last thing she would do was contaminate a room full of evidence.
Eventually, she unsteadily made her way back into the room. Starting with another rack, she continued looking for Wang's clothes. Her breathing was ragged again.
~~~~~~~~
Philip Kane yawned deeply, despising the ritual he was about to start. His last physical had been less than stellar and he had promised his wife he would take up jogging. Now, every morning at dawn he got up and went on a circuit around the neighborhood. He didn't know why it surprised him that he could only go a short distance. It had been obvious for years that he had let his weight climb. Still, he was making steady progress.
Moving to the kitchen island, he spread out the morning paper, preparing to read it while doing his stretching exercises. He froze in his first stretch as he read the first story. Quickly scanning it, he winced when his muscles complained about being in the same position for too long.
He hurriedly changed clothes and headed to the crime lab. There wouldn't be any jogging today.
~~~~~~~~~
Nick wandered into the Drying Room just as the sun was rising. He rushed in when he saw Sara leaning against the doorframe, pale and shaking. "Hey, you okay? Sara, come on, sit down," he said. "What's wrong? Come on, girl. Talk to me. You're making me nervous," Nick said, concern filling his voice.
"Go away, Nick. Just leave me alone," Sara said, moving back into the Drying Room. She had had another flashback when she had to re-enter the room to find Wang's shoes. Her quest required her to return to her own smoke-scented clothing.
"Hey, what kind of friend would I be if I did that?"
Sara snorted a derisive laugh. "Friend? You don't have to pretend for my sake, Nick." How could anyone like her? She killed him. Once the truth was out, she'd have no friends left. What future did she have?
Hurt filled the Texan's eyes. "Hey, there, Sara. What are you talking about? I'm fussy about who I call 'friend'. If you weren't one, I wouldn't call you one." He moved closer to rub Sara's arms gently.
"Nick. Don't. Please. Go away," she whispered. This room was like the bus; long and narrow. The smell of smoke was filling it. Sara realized too late that she trapped herself in the Drying Room. Nick was blocking the only exit. She couldn't get out.
"Come on, Sara. I know you're stressed and I know you don't like the attention, but you done good ..."
"No I didn't!" Sara's exclamation caused him to jump. She turned on him, a hunted look in her eyes. "You don't understand! I'm not a hero. I'm not! It's a lie."
Nick regarded her in confusion. "Sure ya are, darlin'," he whispered reassuringly. "You saved those kids!"
"Not all of them, Nick!" Sara tried again to pull away from the other CSI. Her heart was racing.
"Sara, you rescued those kids," he repeated, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. Nick had never seen Sara like this. She seemed ready to snap.
"God, Nick, I left him behind. Don't you understand? I left that little boy behind."
"Sara, what are you talking about? The rest of the kids were dead," Nick said, trying to reassure himself as much as Sara.
"I don't know that!" Sara yelled. Nick grabbed her arms, trying to restrain her, but she fought against him. "I never checked for a pulse, Nick. I never checked," she cried, finally dropping her head to his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. "I never checked. I left him. I left him to die. I killed him."
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 16 - At last to be identified!
The drive back to the lab had been quiet and uneventful. Grissom's mind kept drifting back to the feel of Sara's body in his arms, occasionally stealing glances at the woman sitting beside him. If she hadn't been so tense, he would have smiled at the memories. Well, there would be time for more memories later.
Pulling into the garage, he let Sara out and went to park in the lot. Reaching into the back, he removed a stack of old forensic journals. Grissom had selected some of his favorite articles that examined unusual cases or interesting evidence. If Sara got bored again tonight, at least he had something that could help alleviate it.
Dropping the magazines in his office, Grissom headed to the break room for coffee. He found Sara going through that night's offerings from the public. The amount was decreasing. "What came tonight?" he asked, causing her to jump. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."
Sara blushed deeply and muttered something so softly he couldn't make out what she said. He realized how embarrassing her nervousness must be. "It's okay," she finally said aloud, wrapping her arms around herself.
"It'll get better, Sara. It just takes time," he said kindly, wondering why she was giving him such a disbelieving look. After taking a deep breath, she handed him a gilded envelope.
"For you," she said softly. "For all you did tonight."
Opening the envelope, he found a gift certificate for L'Bonhomme, one of the city's more exclusive restaurants. He looked at her. "When do you want to go?"
"What?" Sara looked completely shocked. Grissom regretted the bluntness he had used to turn down her dinner request months ago. She still didn't trust him, apparently.
"When do you want to go?" Grissom repeated with a gentle smile. "It's good for dinner for two."
"I gave it you, Grissom. Take someone you want to go with," she said without any rancor.
"I think I just asked someone I want to go with," he replied.
Sara crossed her arms to stare at him in a mixture of confusion and pain. Before Grissom could think of anything to say, Catherine wandered in, yawning deeply. She glanced from one to the other, raising an enquiring eyebrow at Grissom. Walking over, she handed Sara her bag and cell phone. "Hey. Thought you might want these back," she said kindly.
"Thanks," Sara said, waiting a few moments before breaking her contact with Grissom. "Here, Cath. For you and Linds," the brunette moved through a stack of envelopes before picking some out.
Catherine took them with a curious expression. "Full spa service at Mandalay Bay and passes to the Tangier's amusement park," she said.
Sara held up several more envelopes. "Guess no one wanted Bellagio's to have all the free press," she said. The luxury hotel had been quick to take advantage of a last-minute wedding cancellation to offer the ballroom to host Friday's awards ceremony. They also supplied a suite for Sara's parents to use that weekend. "Passes to the Hard Rock Cafe for Greg, tickets to the fights at the MGM for Nick, Warrick can have the passes for the raves at the Sphere, bunch of free meals to whoever wants them."
"What are you keeping for yourself?" Catherine asked with a laugh.
"Nothing." Sara's tone was quiet but serious.
"Why not?" the blonde asked her, but Sara took advantage of Nick's arrival to avoid the question. Catherine moved to Grissom. "What's up?"
"I'm not sure," he whispered. "Want some coffee?" He called loudly when Sara turned to watch the duo's conversation.
Sara shook her head. "Do you have anything for me tonight?"
"Yeah. The effects from the Wang murder. Go over it for trace evidence," he said, watching as she hurried from the room.
"Guys, is Sara okay?" Nick asked quietly.
Neither of his supervisors could answer his question.
~~~~~~~~
A small groan escaped from Grissom's lips as he opened another folder. He would swear in court that it hadn't been that full earlier. Cursing the efficiency with which processed wood cellulose could procreate, he began determining which of this could be ignored for another night. His migraine had gone away for the most part, but an annoying remnant remained. Paperwork wasn't helping. Nor was the serious lack of sleep he'd had last two days.
Despite his condition, a sad smile formed. His discomfort wasn't anything compared to what Sara must be going through. If he lost some sleep in the process of helping her, he wouldn't complain. Overall, dinner had been nice. Afterwards had been even better. They'd have to do that more often.
Later. Grissom recalled Catherine's warning. He'd let Sara have some time first. She needed it. It was distressing to see her so upset. Sara was normally so in control. He'd call Philip in the morning for more advice. He wouldn't let Sara go through this alone.
Luckily, there had been some work for her to do tonight. Warrick's murder victim from Henderson had clothes that needed to be analyzed for trace materials. Given the intensity with which she had gone over that pick-up last night, Grissom was sure Sara would have isolated the individual sheep which had contributed to Wang's suit by morning.
He'd check with Catherine to see if Sara could stay with her again. The number of reporters outside the lab had dropped noticeably. After the memorial this evening and the awards ceremony tomorrow morning, Grissom hoped they would leave Sara alone. The funerals started on Sunday, maybe they would move on to those. He hoped she could start to relax once the media attention was gone.
A note caught his attention. This one couldn't be ignored. Sara wouldn't like it.
Heading to the Layout Room, he found her trying to pick up a fiber with a pair of tweezers. Her hands were shaking too badly and she couldn't grip the material. Grissom hated to bother her, knowing she would be ashamed to be caught like this.
"Sara?" As he thought, she jumped and blushed deeply. He gave her a gentle smile. "Sorry. Again. When Nick gets back, I need for you to review the evidence from the Baugher case with him."
"Why? I'm supposed to testify in that case next week," she said warily, trying to keep her voice calm. She had had another flashback from the blood spatter on Wang's clothes.
"Sorry. The defense attorney filed a motion. She's claiming her client can't get a fair trial with you testifying. You're a hero; it'll sway the jury. Anyway, rather than wait for this to die down, the DA wants to go ahead with Nick testifying instead. The evidence will get him," he said kindly. "I'm sorry, Sara. It's not my choice. Oh, I had a message from Philip. He'll call in the morning."
She nodded and gripped the table with both hands to prevent Grissom from seeing how badly she was shaking or the fear in her eyes. She couldn't go to a scene, she couldn't handle evidence, now she couldn't even go to court. What was left?
~~~~~~~~
"No good. This sample is too damaged," Doctor Robbins said, lifting his head up from his microscope. So far, he had been unable to pinpoint the exact cause of death for the Lawrence boy. On a gross scale, it was easy to determine what killed him: severe internal injuries. The boy's ribcage had been so badly broken it was almost nonexistent. Given the nature of the crash, it wasn't surprising. Reports from the scene indicated fire fighters had to cut the charred remains out of the twisted wreckage.
This was the child whose name had caused Sara's reaction in the morgue. It was the same child about whom a reporter was asking extremely detailed questions. The young CSI had been afraid she had left a child behind in the fire. Robbins hoped the autopsy would show the boy had died before the fire, for Sara's peace of mind.
Normally, a blood test for carboxyhemoglobin would show if the boy had died before the fire. The compound formed only when carbon monoxide was breathed in. But the heat from the fire had damaged the blood too severely to test.
Instead, they were checking the lungs. If there were soot present in the interior of the lobes, it would mean the boy had been alive during the fire. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to find a sample clear enough to answer their questions.
David prepared another piece of tissue for the coroner, and then bent closer to the body, examining the chest cavity in more detail. It didn't take Robbins long to let out a whoop. "Good job! This sample is perfect. Let's hope it tells us what we need to know."
The coroner's assistant looked up, with a sad smile before returning to his examination. A faint glint caught his eye. Moving in closer, David called out to the coroner. "Doc, I think you better look at this."
~~~~~~~~
In the Drying Room, Sara sorted through the items, looking for Winchell Wang's clothes. She had managed to finally bring her breathing back to something close to normal. Grissom's had startled her more than Sara liked to admit. She had slept, had very little caffeine today. She couldn't blame her nervousness on those. How could she ever hope to return to a crime scene if every noise made her jump?
She knew she wasn't being kept in the lab because of the press. They wanted to make sure she was still stable after the accident. Sara could quote the statistics easily: ten percent of the population would develop post- traumatic stress disorder at some point in their life; many more suffered some of the symptoms, without meeting the clinical definition of mental illness. Women were more likely to suffer than men. She tried not to think of the recovery rates.
Pushing those thoughts down, Sara continued her quest. Work was all she had left. She would focus on solving this murder. Nothing could ever repair the damage she had done, but she would devote everything she had left to helping other victims.
Moving down the racks, Sara pushed past a set of heavily stained clothes. The smell of smoke paralyzed her. Startled eyes darted to the nametag: "Sidle, Sara". The jeans, shirt and jacket had been so bloodstained she hadn't recognized them as her own.
The smoke coming off the truck had been thick and oily. It couldn't cover the smell of viscera, though. The smoke started to fill the interior of the bus, limiting her vision. Her jacket sleeves had been soaked by the blood draining out of Hunter's body.
She stumbled to the door, grinning widely to suppress the gag reflex. The last thing she would do was contaminate a room full of evidence.
Eventually, she unsteadily made her way back into the room. Starting with another rack, she continued looking for Wang's clothes. Her breathing was ragged again.
~~~~~~~~
Philip Kane yawned deeply, despising the ritual he was about to start. His last physical had been less than stellar and he had promised his wife he would take up jogging. Now, every morning at dawn he got up and went on a circuit around the neighborhood. He didn't know why it surprised him that he could only go a short distance. It had been obvious for years that he had let his weight climb. Still, he was making steady progress.
Moving to the kitchen island, he spread out the morning paper, preparing to read it while doing his stretching exercises. He froze in his first stretch as he read the first story. Quickly scanning it, he winced when his muscles complained about being in the same position for too long.
He hurriedly changed clothes and headed to the crime lab. There wouldn't be any jogging today.
~~~~~~~~~
Nick wandered into the Drying Room just as the sun was rising. He rushed in when he saw Sara leaning against the doorframe, pale and shaking. "Hey, you okay? Sara, come on, sit down," he said. "What's wrong? Come on, girl. Talk to me. You're making me nervous," Nick said, concern filling his voice.
"Go away, Nick. Just leave me alone," Sara said, moving back into the Drying Room. She had had another flashback when she had to re-enter the room to find Wang's shoes. Her quest required her to return to her own smoke-scented clothing.
"Hey, what kind of friend would I be if I did that?"
Sara snorted a derisive laugh. "Friend? You don't have to pretend for my sake, Nick." How could anyone like her? She killed him. Once the truth was out, she'd have no friends left. What future did she have?
Hurt filled the Texan's eyes. "Hey, there, Sara. What are you talking about? I'm fussy about who I call 'friend'. If you weren't one, I wouldn't call you one." He moved closer to rub Sara's arms gently.
"Nick. Don't. Please. Go away," she whispered. This room was like the bus; long and narrow. The smell of smoke was filling it. Sara realized too late that she trapped herself in the Drying Room. Nick was blocking the only exit. She couldn't get out.
"Come on, Sara. I know you're stressed and I know you don't like the attention, but you done good ..."
"No I didn't!" Sara's exclamation caused him to jump. She turned on him, a hunted look in her eyes. "You don't understand! I'm not a hero. I'm not! It's a lie."
Nick regarded her in confusion. "Sure ya are, darlin'," he whispered reassuringly. "You saved those kids!"
"Not all of them, Nick!" Sara tried again to pull away from the other CSI. Her heart was racing.
"Sara, you rescued those kids," he repeated, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. Nick had never seen Sara like this. She seemed ready to snap.
"God, Nick, I left him behind. Don't you understand? I left that little boy behind."
"Sara, what are you talking about? The rest of the kids were dead," Nick said, trying to reassure himself as much as Sara.
"I don't know that!" Sara yelled. Nick grabbed her arms, trying to restrain her, but she fought against him. "I never checked for a pulse, Nick. I never checked," she cried, finally dropping her head to his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. "I never checked. I left him. I left him to die. I killed him."