Chapter 63

Sara's Story

Gil decided to take her to his home rather than her own. It seemed like the right thing to do – seemed safer. At his home, she couldn't go and fix herself a drink, and that's what he'd dreaded. Something deep inside told him it might be the first thing she'd want to do when she got to her apartment.

Sara was quiet on the journey, not that he blamed her. Anyone in her situation would have been just as silent. As he drove, he snuck a glance at her, examining the bruising around her neck that had begun to appear from her struggle with the suspect. He felt an ache of guilt throb through his veins.

I should have been paying more attention, I could have prevented any of this from happening…but as usual…I wasn't noticing what was going on – right under my nose…

The walk up the path to his house seemed to take years, he walked beside her, slipping his arm around her shoulders, suddenly not caring what the neighbours might think. He kissed her temple, and led her to the front door, this time, he didn't have to fumble trying to differentiate which key was which. The door was opened, and they stepped inside the dark cave of the hallway.

Sara remained beside him in the dark, he felt her hand grip his, he heard her let out the softest sigh. Gil closed the front door with his free hand, and turned to look at her, she was silhouetted, barely visible in the light that was seeping through the open blinds.

They stood like that in the dark for some moments. Gil didn't know what to do next. He wanted to switch on the light, but for some reason, he resisted doing so. He wasn't sure who was supposed to speak first. Sara, or himself.

She's the guest, you're the host, you should be turning on the lights, leading her to the couch, and making her drink herbal tea to calm her down after what she's just been through, he thought at himself. So why aren't you doing that?

Sara shifted from foot to foot in the darkness, she gave another soft sigh. He reached over to take her in his arms in the darkness, and felt her cave against him, as if she was relieved to have him hold her.

Gil wrapped his arms around her to hold her to him close as he could without hurting her, he felt her bury her face between his shoulder and neck, felt her hot uneven breath tickling his flesh.

Let her speak when she's ready, he told himself. I already think I know the basics…she can fill in the blanks when she's ready to do so.

He stroked her hair tenderly, listening to the sounds of her breathing, trying not to let the tickles of her breath on his neck get under his skin. It was strange, suddenly, he'd never wanted to make love to anyone so much.

It's her vulnerability, he thought. It's a turn on, because I'm a man and men find vulnerable women irresistible…but it's wrong. I can't think about this now…

It seemed too late to tell himself this, his body was already reacting, his hands were instinctively sliding up the back of her jacket and under her shirt to caress her soft skin.

Am I taking advantage here? He wondered. As if in response to his thoughts, Sara placed a soft kiss on his neck, her hands following his, up behind his shirt, touching his hot flesh. Okay, so maybe I'm not the only one taking advantage, he thought, he craned his neck to touch his lips softly to hers, and they stood kissing in the dark for several moments.

He broke the kiss, stepping away from her, taking her hands to lead her towards the bedroom. As wrong as his mind was telling him this was, it definitely didn't feel wrong, in fact, it had never felt more right.

"We can stop at any time," Gil murmured to her as he led her through the open door into his bedroom.

Sara's silhouette gave a gentle nod, and they kissed once again, moving down towards the bed.

Clothes were shed and discarded to the floor, kisses and caresses were shared with the most gentle care. They made love slow and tenderly, losing track of time and space around them, losing themselves in each other until spent, they lay in each others arms in the dark beneath the blankets, a tangle of arms and legs.

There was a silence for the longest time in the room afterwards, Gil lay with her against his chest, stroking her hair and lost in his own thoughts until she began to speak. When she did, it came out easily, like it had been rehearsed for hours and hours until the words came like fluid from her lips.

"I was six when it started…"

Gil stared off into space, listening, determined he wouldn't speak a word until she'd finished what she had to say.

"Six going on seven. Just a little girl…I didn't even understand what it was he was doing…"

The room fell into an eerie silence save the ticking of an old clock on the bedside cabinet.

"It wasn't all the time…sometimes months went by…and then there he'd be…regular as clockwork, always one thirty am, right on the dot…" Sara said distantly, "I can remember everything he did as clear as crystal. I remember the things he'd say, the things he made me do for him. He made it sound so innocent…like it was a game. 'Touch daddy'. 'Good girl, Sara. You're such a good girl'. I remember how it sounded, this…this moan…every time I think of it now it makes me shudder…makes me feel cold inside…"

Gil felt the emotion build in his throat and he had to swallow hard to force it back down again.

Sara fell silent for a moment, Gil still said nothing, knowing she was still searching for the next words to say. "It stopped…for a while…for almost a year…and then it started again…and then so did the beatings…"

Gil continued to stroke her hair, he could almost visualize it all in his head as she spoke, see it play out like a movie he'd rather not see.

"Everyone got hit, my mother…my brother…" she swallowed, "even me…" she confessed. "There were… trips to the hospital…frequently. My mother always said she was accident prone…and that me and my brother were fighting…hurting each other. In between all the beatings, sometimes there were happy times…times when nothing would go wrong. And just when I thought things were fine…it'd start all over again. Violent beatings…stuff no kid should ever have to see…or live through," she blinked tears, she took in a shaky breath, "I can still see every single bruise he ever gave my mom so clearly in my head. Every black eye, every bust lip…every bruise on her arms and legs. I still have nightmares, seeing her lying on the floor and him kicking her in the stomach…I still see him slamming her face against the wall and breaking her nose…"

Gil chewed on his lip, he didn't want to hear anymore, and yet at the same time, he had to hear it, had to know it all to understand.

"I thought it was the way every family lived…y'know? I just figured the other kids…the other moms…that they just hid it better…that there was nothing wrong with us. On and off, it continued, for years…when I was twelve, that's when things started to escalate…"

Gil had to swallow the emotion back again, his heart was thudding in his chest, aching for her in ways he hadn't thought possible. Now he knew why she hadn't wanted to talk about it. It was painful for her, he could hear it in her voice, feel it in the way she was trembling against him.

"By that time, I knew what was wrong with what my father was doing. We'd been told about it in school, educated on how we should tell our parents…" she explained, "but I wasn't about to tell my mother what he'd done to me…I knew she'd be beaten if she should bring it up in front of him…he was like that…he'd get this…this dangerous look in his eyes, like a completely different person was behind them…all it took was for something to piss him off…and there was a lot that did…" she explained. "This…one night I remember he came to my room. Hottest day of the summer. His hands were…all over me, he was rough, like he didn't care. That was the first time he took it further than touching and getting off. That was the first time he raped me."

Gil took her hand within his and kissed her fingers tenderly, he waited for her to continue.

"I was crying…it hurt…more than anything I think I'd ever felt…it was my crying that woke my mom up…she came running through, they screamed at each other until I couldn't even make out the words anymore…I remember being curled up in the corner of the room in tear, hurting, curled up wishing the pain would go away, wishing everything would go away, wishing my father would just…die…"

Gil sucked in a deep breath, he could picture it, Sara as a child, curled up in the corner in tears, watching her parents scream at each other incoherently.

"And then…mom had the knife…I don't remember seeing her come in with it…but it was there…in her hand…and she lunged at him, and I saw it slide through him…first through his shoulder…then through his chest…and she kept going, kept stabbing…I remember the blood splattering on my yellow walls…and on mom's pale blue nightdress. I felt it splatter on my face…" the emotion grew stronger in her voice, the trembles became stronger still.

Gil wanted to stop her from speaking, wanted to stop her from going on, could tell this was becoming far too painful for her.

"That…was the last time I saw my mother…" Sara said in a sigh, "the neighbours heard everything…called 911…everything then…was a flurry of police officers, and social workers…in my head I can still hear the sirens…can still see the flashing of the lights outside of the police cars and the paramedics. I can still hear my mothers sobs as she watched me and my brother being taken away…"

Gil kissed her fingers again, he wanted to tell her how sorry he was but sorry just didn't make it better, didn't make anything better.

"Every time…I'm on a domestic abuse case…or a child abuse or molestation case…it all comes back…its like you said…trying to forget won't fix it…or make prevent it from coming back and haunting me…" she twined her fingers with his absently, and let out a soft sob, as finally the emotion she'd been trying to contain broke free.

Gil lay looking up at the ceiling, he could feel his eyes watering over, something he hadn't felt for a very long time was the intense pain that came to his head from trying to hold back tears. One tear escaped, sliding down his left temple. And there it was. He was crying. He'd never cried for any woman, but here he was with Sara Sidle in his arms, and he was crying for her, for a childhood that had been stolen from her.

Sara never saw the tears in his eyes, never saw that tear escape. Gil wasn't sure what he might have felt if she had. Sara never raised her head to look at him, she cried upon his chest until the sobs faded and exhaustion dragged her into a dreamless sleep.

Gil didn't sleep that night. He wondered somberly, after what he'd heard, if he'd ever sleep again.

OOC again, yeah, I know. This was a hard chapter to write and yet it flowed out easy. Ah, I don't know.

Yeah, I know it isn't precisely in line with what happened in "Nesting Dolls". (We all add our little parts to fanfic, this is mine).

Thanks to the people who reviewed. I found 16 reviews in my inbox when I got online tonight. What a wonderful surprise. A few of them were even more than 2 lines long (I love those the best :) ) As per, I'll mention the names of the lovely reviewers in 64 :)

djkittycat: coffee CAN actually start and irritate migraines, it happens with me every so often, and my mothers best friend can't even drink coffee because it starts migraines (in fact, even eating cheese gives her migraines, lol). Sometimes coffee can help, but it depends on the person I guess.

Ash