Title: Bright Lights; Dig City Author: Jayke Manners

Category: Drama / Angst

Spoilers: Only received up to Ch-Ch-Ch Changes in Aussie – so pretty much anything up to there…

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or it's Characters. If I did Mr Will would be at the mercy of mine. (Bring the handcuffs CSI man)

Oh I made up Lisa.

Summary: Casefile / Angst / GS

FORTHY-THREE

Sara was silent for a few minutes, as if frozen – her eyes steely and shimmering beneath the lights. Corbett could see the thoughts as they passed over her face, like clouds crossing an open field and leaving shadows on the landscape. He was expecting any number of responses, but knowing Sara as he did, he really should have realized she would take the one option he hadn't considered.

She was leaving.

"Where are you going?" he demanded. This wasn't part of the plan.

"We're done," she answered. Not angry, not resigned, she could have been mentioning the weather.

Corbett half rose in his seat, "But I haven't told you anything yet," his voice betrayed a rising unease. "You haven't got your answers, Sara."

She smiled slightly, though there was no happiness in it. "I don't need answers from you Corbett," she told him. "I don't need anything from you. You're gonna rot in jail, and then you're gonna die. You'll die the same way you lived. Small. Insignificant. Nothing." She shook her head, somehow stronger than a few moments before. "You lost, Corbett. Class is over."

Sara turned and reached for the door, no longer ready to die. At least not for this.

"Hey!" Sara heard the threat in Corbett's voice. "We're not finished here!"

Sara paid him no heed. She turned and walked with calm, deliberate steps. Corbett's voice rose in anger and he along with it, knocking his chair back onto the floor. "Sara!" he demanded. "Don't you walk out on me! Who the hell do you think you are? We're not done here! We're not done!"

Sara looked back at him, only inches from the door, "Yeah," she answered. "We are." She turned away, her fingers on the door handle, her thoughts already of the world outside and what it offered.

If only Sara had pushed the handle, if only she'd stepped outside and walked away, things might have turned out differently. Perhaps, in some alternate universe, that's exactly what occurred. Perhaps somewhere out there was another Sara, another Grissom, and a place where their lives were not such as this.

It was the tone in his voice that stopped her - a low, menacing growl that felt like an icepick sliding down her back. "You think they'll make this stick, Sara?" he demanded. "You think they can keep me in here? You've got nothing. The only reason you're still alive is because I let you live. Do you know how many times I've stood outside your door? Walked past you in the street? I've been in your house, Sara. Watched you sleeping. Watched you shower. I know every inch of you. I know what you smell like, what you taste like. The only reason you're still in this world is because I allow it. Do you hear me, Sidle? You're still here because I choose for you to live." He was transformed now, the monster finally materializing – all traces of pretence discarded. His voice rose, shaking with a barely contained fury. "We're finished when I say we are, and I don't remember dismissing you. Now turn around, sit your little ass back in that chair and show me some GOD DAMN RESPECT!"

His final scream sent shockwaves through her. Sara jerked, her hands coming to rest against the door, breath flowing back onto her face, she was pressed so close against it. A familiar thudding began in her head, a pulsating, throbbing rush of blood that filled her ears and swept away the glimmer of the outside world. She'd been so close, only a step away. But of course, it couldn't be that easy. As much as she had hoped, dared in the last few minutes to think that it might be possible, there couldn't be a happy ending.

It was just as Corbett had promised. Someone wasn't coming out of this one alive.

FORTY–FOUR

"Sara!" Grissom was yelling at the top of his voice as he bolted down the hallway.

Brass, only a few steps behind, barked into his two-way, "323 this is detective Brass, report back on status of suspect."

The receiver crackled, a confused voice popping through the white noise. "Brass this is 323. Stood down by CSI Sidle, confirm…" it was all Brass needed to hear.

Grissom pointed to his office as they ran by, "Keys in the drawer." As Brass ducked away, Grissom flew down the corridor, praying to God it wasn't already too late.

FORTY-FIVE

The gun was shaking in her hand as it pointed toward Corbett's head. She was having difficulty seeing against the blur of tears that filled her eyes and fell unchecked down her face. How did it all come down to this? How had her life gone so far off course that this was how it all ended? She didn't even remember how she came to be standing here, with her hands shaking like a rookie and her heart pushed up into her throat.

"Think you can do it, Sara?" Corbett asked. He was slowly backing away. Sara followed as if pulled by an invisible thread, inching her way around the table, the pistol never shifting from its mark. "Think you've got what it takes to pull the trigger? Come on, show me what you can do little girl. You want it all to end? Here's your chance. I take from you, you take from me. We're connected Sara, there's only one way this can all be over. It has to be you."

A choked sob left her throat. She gritted her teeth, almost screaming in her effort to fight against herself. Her hand opened and closed against the grip. Do it Sidle. Do it! End it now. End it now! Her hand opened once again, finger coming down to rest against the trigger. Just squeeze Sara, one little tap and it's all over. Just one single movement of your finger.

"Sara!"

She was hearing things now. Why was it always about him? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? It's ok Sara, it'll all be over soon.

"Sara! Open the door! Sara! SARA!"

"Come on little girl," Corbett glanced quickly at the door, seeing the slip in Sara's eyes. "It's time this was all over. Just like a bad dream."

"SARA!" This time the voice was followed by a deafening bang as the door came crashing open. Sara swung her head, instantly screaming at Grissom to stay the hell out, her aim zeroed in on Corbett, only a few meters away. Her eyes turned back to the teacher, wild, erratic. Grissom stopped dead as Brass and three officers rounded the door behind him. Guns were drawn, yelling filled the air as Sara was commanded to drop her weapon and all the while, Corbett smiled, this was even better than he'd imagined.

"Sara," Grissom's voice softened and he held out a yielding hand toward Brass. As the detective silenced the officers, Grissom stepped further into the room, easing toward her as he spoke, his voice gentle. "Sara, honey. It's ok. Don't do this. Come on," his hand extended toward her, palm open. "He's not worth it Sara. He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt anybody."

"Get out, Grissom." It was intended as a command, but all Sara could manage was a plea. "Please, just get out. I can't…"

"I know honey," he whispered. "I know. But we've got them, we've got them all. It's over. It's all over."

"No." Sara shook her head, whether it was a refusal to believe him or to stand down, no one knew. Grissom took a step toward her, she didn't back away, but she didn't lower her weapon either. He took another step and when she finally turned to him, it was almost his undoing. She looked… defeated. Grissom's eyes brimmed and threatened to spill over, his hand only inches from her own.

"Please, Sara" he begged, voice cracking. It was all he could get out.

They stood that way for a full minute, simply staring into each other, as if somehow the answer might become clear. But it never arrived.

"I'm sorry, Grissom." Sara whispered.