Chapter 2: Different perspectives
Spoilers: Nothing that hasn't already aired.
A/N: Again, many thanks to my Beta– Ace.
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Sara wasn't working that night, it was her night off.
After an eventless day of doing absolutely nothing but watching television and eating junk food, she decided to call it a day and go to sleep early. Honestly, she was absolutely exhausted, she hadn't managed to sleep for a few nights now, and the lack of sleep was clearly starting to take a toll on her body.
She climbed into her bed but spent the next couple of hours just lying there, staring at the ceiling.
As she lay there for what seemed like weeks, she began imagining the white ceiling above her as something alive, something that moved and breathed, something that was anything but just a plain, white, boring ceiling. She then imagined it to be a grey cloud that turned blacker and blacker, a cloud that started raining, raining on her head, raining on her body, and wetting her hair and clothes. She smiled widely, almost laughing at the vision before her. "Could I be any crazier?" she asked herself sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
When the picture faded and she could no longer keep the vision alive, the disturbing thoughts that she was getting more and more familiar with flowed through her head again, making her more than a little restless and more than a little annoyed.
Becoming more and more frustrated by the minute, she decided to go for a jog to clear her head of the persistent thoughts that kept her awake and to try and rid herself of the despair that was now sinking in, deeper and deeper, threatening to push her down an unknown district.
Lately she was finding herself going for those jogs, and more often than not, it was the only thing that really helped her. The sleeping pills had stopped working a long time ago along with some other failing measures such as alcohol or late night drives.
It was comforting to know that at least one thing still helped her find a small corner of peace in a world of pain and suffering.
She tried to remember the last time anything else helped her but failed miserably.
With a loud sigh, she rolled out of her bed, changed her t-shirt and pajamas for a black tank top and tight pants, slipped into her sneakers,and ventured into the kitchen.
She grabbed her windbreaker that was lying on the kitchen chair, zipped it up, and placed her wallet in its pocket.
She opened up her refrigerator wanting to grab a bottle of water, and as she was doing that, her eyes came across a bottle of beer.
For a long moment she just stared at it, her gaze shifting down slowly up and down the transparent bottle.
She was overcome with the temptation to reach for it, grab it, and swallow it up in a single gulp - tempted beyond words.
Her hand started to move slowly in the direction of the desirable beverage, but just before her long fingers could touch it, a little voice practically screamed at her, reminding her that she was planning on going out, and that the last thing she needed to add to the current list of her growing problems was an arrest for public intoxication. She moved her hand a few inches to the side, grabbed a bottle of water, and twisted the cap off in record time, bringing it to her lips and pouring large portions of it into her increasingly upset stomach. When she was done, she placed it back on the counter and closed the cap.
Sara glanced around the dimly lit kitchen. She hadn't even bothered to turn on the light, and as she stood there in the dark feeling more and more agitated as every second passed by, she suddenly became very claustrophobic and was starting to feel as if the walls of her apartment were closing in on her.
'I have to get out of here,' she panicked. Her body twisted around quickly, and she bolted out the door, slamming it behind her, and forgetting her water bottle along the way.
After practically flying down the stairs, she was out in a second; an Olympic runner couldn't have done it faster than she did.
Outside, she was met with the unusually cool, fresh air of the Las Vegas night that was a whole lot different from the suffocating atmosphere within her apartment, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
With the stars above and the full moon behind her, she headed for her normal route and began her running course.
Soon enough she was out there running slowly and steadily at first and then a little faster, increasing her speed with each passing mile.
A short while later, she was already sweating and breathing heavily, respiration forming on her forehead and dripping down to her eyes. She stopped in her tracks and wiped the wet spots on her face with her sleeves, taking off her windbreaker in the process and tying it around her waist.
As always, she changed her direction and headed for the little coffee house around the corner where the people were always really nice, and the tea was always really great.
It was one of the few reasons she still loved living in Vegas; everything was open 24 hours a day, and that nice little coffee house around the corner was no different.
She usually never drank their coffee because she didn't want to stay up even longer than she had to. After all, she was out there in hopes of catching a better sleep after returning home, so she always opted for her favorite decaf tea instead.
But as soon as the thought of sleep crept it's way into her head, she started feeling very tired again and began to have second thoughts about whether or not she should go there.
It was something she always did, and she was scared that if she broke that cycle, her last helping resource would stop working. That thought frightened her beyond belief.
So, exhausted but determined to reach the coffee house, she resumed walking, taking another turn and crossing a road before finally reaching her destination.
As she was putting her windbreaker back on, she entered carefully through the glass doors of the small building and was instantly enveloped by the pleasant aroma that hung in the air.
She closed her eyes for a brief second and sucked in a deep breath of the familiar scent, enjoying every atom of it that was now flowing through her system, doing wonders for her mood. She opened her eyes again and made her way to the counter.
"Oh, hey, Sara!" an elderly woman greeted her with a wide smile.
"Hey, Rosa, " Sara waved, giving the woman a slight smile and making an effort to make it genuine.
"How are you doing tonight?" Rosa asked worriedly, "Still can't sleep?" she questioned her.
"Yeah, well, no…," she mumbled, scrambling for the right words, "I'm fine….really," she lied, giving the woman her best reassuring smile.
The friendly woman behind the counter tilted her head, her eyes narrowing and regarding Sara skeptically.
"Uh, hmm…if you say so, " she agreed with her, knowing very well that the opposite was true.
Since she owned the coffee house, Rosa was there almost every night. She had gotten to know Sara pretty well over the last couple of months, in a distant friendly kind of way, not that it was very easy though, Sara wasn't much of a talker, and she had a tough time squeezing anything out of her.
But Rosa had a way of getting people to talk even when they didn't really want to. So, even though it took some time, her persistence eventually paid off, and she managed to get the more than reluctant Sara to open up a little.
She had many regular costumers, but Sara was different. She was different in a very unique and interesting kind of way. She learned of her work in the Las Vegas Crime Lab, and Sara was always willing to share interesting facts, and funny anecdotes - not about the actual cases she worked on but about some of the processes she had to go through in finding evidence.
She discussed the weird experiments that she and Grissom were working on and the adventures that she and Greg shared. She had also told her about the two-faced Catherine, Warrick and Nick, and mentioned some other people she had close bonds with.
Through her stories she had gotten to know the people that Sara worked with very well, and she found it odd that they were the only people she had ever talked about. Sara had never mentioned her family, so she knew not to ask.
She had really grown to like the young woman with the beautiful, gap-toothed grin and sad eyes. She had wondered about those sad eyes, those big, sad eyes that seemed to have known such horrors and devastation.
Oddly enough when Sara would talk about her supervisor, sometimes those sad eyes would light up and fill up with joy, and sometimes those eyes would become darker and darker and sadder, if that was even possible. Rosa wondered about that man, the man that seemed to bring Sara so much joy and so much heartache all at the same time. She wondered how that man was missing the greatest thing that could ever happen to him, how he was missing such happiness with that wonderful bright woman that stood before her. She didn't understand why they weren't together because she had asked Sara some questions, and Sara responded, telling her he wasn't married, divorced, or involved. So she didn't understand why they weren't already married, since Sara obviously had strong feelings for him, and considering the stories that Sara had told her about him, it seemed like he cared for her a great deal as well.
Rosa was angry at that man, even though she had never seen him or met him in her life, she was angry that she was witnessing Sara's slow decent to nowhere, and that he was not there for her, helping her. She wanted to help her, but all she could do was listen and hand her advice from her own long life experiences. It was all she could do really, so she did just that. She told Sara about her children and grandchildren and made her laugh through her stories about her lazy husband and her smelly cat. She was glad she could at least do that, make her laugh, and forget her troubles, even if it was for just a second.
But lately, even that didn't help.
"So, the usual, right?" Rosa asked rhetorically.
"Yep," Sara answered with a slight nod.
"Alright," the energetic woman said loudly, "coming right up!" she announced.
Sara then turned around and took a seat at a small empty table near the entrance, allowing her body to relax and sit comfortably in the chair.
In the mean time while waiting patiently for her order, she watched the comings and goings of people.
Sara was there almost every week, but the number of people that were out there that late at night never ceased to amaze her. There were many of them present during the day also, but the small place was never busier than at night.
In a way it served as a certain comfort, knowing she wasn't the only one with severe insomnia and a lost soul.
As she continued watching them, she was reminded how much she loved observing people, their expressions, and their reactions. It was her thing, it was her hobby, and it was what she did. Some people might have described it differently, and in a more negative way, but she just called it practice. She thought about it as good practice, something that could only cause her to get better at her job, something that could even help her detect danger.
When the tea arrived, she thanked the waiter and started blowing softly on the cup, her gaze still remaining fixed on the building's glass doors.
She watched the doors as they opened up slowly, revealing a beautiful tall young woman with short black hair, hazel eyes, and a charming smile; a woman that could have been her sister in another life. She entered the small, intimate place as a slightly older man with grey curls, green eyes, and an equally charming grin followed her every step.
The two of them were holding hands, exchanging warm looks and bright exuberant smiles, their expressions filled with desire for one another.
Sara had no doubt that these people were in love, deeply and madly in love, and judging by the shy smiles and the seemingly comfortable silence, it was a newfound love, something that she could only dream of, something that she craved more than water or food.
They took a seat right across from her, their fingers still tangled, never leaving each other's grip.
As they sat there with their constant grins that were glued to their faces, looking extremely happy and irreplaceable, her heart filled with jealousy. 'They look so happy,' she thought bitterly, and felt bile rising up her throat.
She stood up fast, almost knocking over her cup of tea, took out her wallet, paid in a hurry leaving a hefty tip along the way, and fled the building without even taking one sip of her tea.
When she returned to the cool Las Vegas night, she found herself having one of those horrid moments where everything seemed like such a waste and everything felt so empty. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears that were starting to form in her eyes.
Her jaw clenched with anger, and she wished the earth would just open up and swallow her whole, right then and there, so she would never have to be seen or heard of again.
She wished she was never born; she wished she was dead.
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A young man had just exited a nearby bar; the love of his life had dumped him only a few hours earlier.
Drowning in his sorrow, he made his way back to his van, swaying from side to side.
He reached for his pocket in an attempt to get his keys out, but he couldn't get his hand in the right place or his eyes in the right direction.
After a few futile attempts, he finally managed to get them out, almost stumbling to the ground in the process.
Eventually, after losing his way a few times, he reached the big black van and stepped up into the driver's seat, all the while ignoring his inner voice that told him he drank way too much, and that maybe it wasn't a good idea for him to drive.
He struggled to get the key into the ignition, and after releasing a few cusses, he finally succeeded, started the car, and drove away, blissfully unaware that his bad day was about to take a turn for the worse.
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Sara was on her way home when she unwillingly entered a trance of flowing memories, painful memories, memories of rejection, memories of chained events that conspired to bring her down further into a darker dimension.
She wrapped her arms around herself, remembering the words like they were spoken yesterday.
"Somebody young and beautiful shows up. Somebody we could care about. She offers us a new life with her but we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her."
"I couldn't do it..."
"I don't know what to do about this."
"I'm not worried, I'm concerned."
"I want to know why you're so angry."
She shook her head, trying to chase away those memories, wishing to forget everything that he had ever said to her and everything that he had ever done or hadn't done to her - she wished she would just forget him.
She wished a lot of things.
Sara was so caught up with those burning emotions and the subsequent feelings of regret and guilt that she never saw it coming. She never saw the large vehicle behind her, advancing towards her at rapid speed.
All she saw was bright lights and bright stars as the van slammed into her, taking her by surprise and knocking the wind out of her. In what seemed like forever but was actually only a fraction of a second, her whole life flashed before her. Images, so many of them, changed so quickly in her head like a broken movie screen, changing so quickly, way too quickly.
After that, there was nothing.
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The young man fled the scene, leaving Sara's broken body on the pavement, leaving her like she was nothing more than a wounded animal.
Fortunately for her, a bystander had witnessed the entire scene unfold and had called an ambulance only a few seconds later.
Soon after, she was already at the hospital being treated for her injuries. Doctors and nurses worked frantically to fix her, to bring her back from her unconsciousness, to bring her back from the dead.
Whatever they did seemed to work, and Sara was finally coming back into the world of the living, painfully slow, and unsteadily, but coming back nonetheless.
Yes, she was. She was coming back,
Coming back from hell, coming back with a whole new perspective…
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TBC…
