Chapter Three: Unthinkable

She had never felt this sick before. Sara leaned over, her hands gripping her knees as she panted lightly. At least she couldn't remember ever feeling this sick before. Forcing herself up, Sara staggered back to her couch, sitting down with a heavy sigh. She had less than twenty minutes to get to work, and at this rate, she wouldn't get there until at least an hour later.

Sara had woken up to the pounding headache, the one so familiar for the last several weeks now. At least she had slept some, or maybe she had passed out. Then again, did it make any difference?

Groaning, Sara rubbed her forehead, trying to rub the ache from the confines of her pulsing skin. Nothing had been different, then why, all the sudden, did she feel so horrible?

She didn't know how long the episode lasted, she hadn't seen the time when it first started. It wasn't like she was watching the clock, waiting for it to happen. The single thought reminded her, her eyes drifted up, staring at the digital readout, the red numbers seemingly floating.

Closing her eyes, she gave her head a few shakes, trying to clear things up. She felt like she could lie like this forever, just to curl up here, and slowly wish the pain away. The only thing that got her too her feet the first time was the unexpected heaves, and pure habit.

But if she didn't show up at work, the others might wonder. She laughed bitterly, turning her head to the side, resting it up against the armrest. What did they care anyways? Grissom was obviously attracted to Sophia, that much wasn't hard to see. Whenever he talked with her it was light, flirty even.

An opposite tone with her; Sara could still remember a few days back. Only a few short hours after fighting with Greg, she had been walking down the hallway, going to meet up with Archie to pull some video footage. She had ran into Grissom, turning around the corner, she had actually walked straight into him.

Mumbling a soft sorry, Sara continued one, her pace even faster than when first begun, a sad attempt to put distance between him and her. The only thing that stopped her was his voice.

"Sara, can I see you for a moment?"

She let out extended breath of air, turning around slowly. Grissom pointed wordlessly in the direction of his office, his meaning clear enough. For a split second, Sara thought about dodging him, telling him she was busy, that she would come later. For only a second though, then the thought passed, knowing better than to argue.

She led the way, Grissom falling in step next to her. Sara sped her pace up a little, so that she was in front, the last thing she wanted to be was equals, even in step. Walking inside, she didn't wait for an invitation to sit, knowing already he would tell her to do so. The less of a conversation, the better.

"You've been busy lately, so I hear."

Sara only stared at him, her hands folded, rather clasped in front of her. If he was as observant as he claimed to be, he would have noticed.

"Greg tells me you've been working sick, is this true?"

Sara's mind was fuming at the thought of Greg going behind her back. He could tell all the stories he wanted, she would play along.

"Why would he say that? I'm fine."

She kept her answers short, her eyes down at a slight angle, to avoid direct contact. She could hear Grissom lean back in his chair.

"What case are you working?"

Slowly, she raised her eyes, her mind working quickly, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"The Barren's case."

"The Barren case was closed last week Sara. Why are you still working on it?"

Her mouth was dry, as she tried to formulate an answer. To say that she had reopened it, he would demand to know where she got authorization to do so, and for what reasoning. To say that she didn't know that, he would query on how she was feeling, if she was okay. Sara wanted neither.

"I uh, I mean the…"

She was stuttering now, her mind racing for an answer.

"The Jones' case?"

Sara had nodded as soon as Grissom had mentioned it. Waving a hand she faked a smile.

"I just got them mixed up."

He didn't believe her, she could see it in the way he looked at her, looked into her eyes. Sara turned away, uncomfortable. Still, he didn't press the matter; he only nodded, telling her she could go. Sara was thankful for the escape.

Sara's eyes snapped open, focusing on the clock again, only to groan, seeing she had only a few minutes until work started. They were working on an arson case; she, Greg and Grissom, Sophia was off tonight.

Still, Sara did not want to meet up with Grissom, not tonight. Still, she knew if she did nothing, one or the both of them would stop by to check up on her. It was their nature, especially Greg, an irritating one at that. The last thing she needed was them harping on her.

Pushing herself to a sitting position, she shuddered, waiting for the sickly feeling to pass before getting to her feet. Her kitchen was only a short walk away, thankful that at least one thing in the world made sense. Reaching for the phone she punched in the number for work, unsurprised that Jenny answered.

Sara dully told her that she wasn't coming in that night, and Jenny promised to pass it on. Hanging up the phone, Sara held onto the counter as she slowly made her way back, reminding herself that the couch wasn't all too far away. Something caught her eye though, on the counter as she walked by. Coming to a stop, Sara stared at the object, a silent battle going on in her mind.

Reaching for it, she grasped the handle, pulling the knife from its stand. The silver blade gleamed lightly under the lights as she turned it over in her hands. Seemingly satisfied, she continued her trek to the couch, sitting this time instead of lying down, clutching the knife to her chest as she fought the waves of dizziness that threatened to cling to her.

She wasn't really sure what she was doing; it was as if someone else was controlling her mind. Someone else who was rolling up her sleeve and someone else that held the blade against her skin, dragging the knife slowly, the small droplets of blood beading along the cut before rolling down her arm, pulled by gravity.

Dropping the knife in one sudden movement, Sara stared in shock at the blood that ran down her arm, falling into a small pool on the cushion below. What had she done? What was she doing? Hastily she wiped at the cuts, drawing her hand through the blood trails on her skin in a meager attempt to make it go away. It only served for more blood to come out.

Stumbling first to her feet, and then into the bathroom, Sara dug a washcloth out, drenching it in water before pressing it against her arm, flinching at the slight sting. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Sara shook lightly, her body trembling as a few drops of water blood ran down her limb, falling into the sink.

What had she done?

TBC