Chapter Four: No More

Three cuts, similar in length and width, rested against her skin. The pale flesh quickly changing color as her blood began to run down her arm. Rolling of her arm, it fell onto the couch, landing in separate drops, staining the pale brown material. In the silence she could hear her heart pounding, beating with a furious drive. She was terrified. What was happening to her? This wasn't her, she didn't know this person, this…this suicidal freak…

"Sara?"

She turned towards the voice, glancing at him for only a moment before she turned her attention back down to the paperwork. There was no reason to acknowledge him; she knew that he would continue to talk. She could hear the hesitancy in his voice as he came further in to the room. He was nervous, afraid even, and why shouldn't he be? After what he had done to her, telling Grissom on her. Just because Greg Sanders was perfect, didn't mean that she, a lowly human being, wasn't allowed to make a mistake every now and then.

"I thought you weren't coming in tonight," he stated, taking a seat opposite of her. Leaning forward, he put most of his weight on the table, causing it to shift some.

She gave him a sharp glare, and he backed off, leaning back in his chair now instead. Sara didn't give him an answer, only concentrating on the papers. She had been her for over an hour now, and had been able to concentrate on nothing but what had transpired before.

She felt sickened, empty. It was a different feeling from before, the one that was filled with jealously, rage, and hurt was now replaced by fear, and doubt. A hollow feeling that she could not explain. A bitter taste was in the back of her mouth, it tasted like blood, and her mind was racing at top speeds. She was close to her breaking point.

"Sara?" Greg questioned again, watching as she trembled unnoticeably. "Don't do this to me, please. I was only trying to help you."

"I don't need to be babied Greg," she snapped, her voice tense. She could see him flinch slightly and she smiled inwardly to herself. Maybe he would take the hint and finally let her have some peace.

"I'm not babying you," Greg said after a moment, collecting himself. He noted that she was still pale; her eyes were withdrawn, bags nearly concealing them. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that she hadn't slept in over a week now. Yet it wasn't only that, it was her weight. Her clothes hung loosely now, and she was shivering, although it had neared triple degree heat earlier today, and the simple fact she was dressed in long pants and a thick mauve sweater. Her hair was hanging against her face, tangled in one big mess.

"I'm worried about you," he said softly, "you're a great friend, and I don't want to lose you."

Sara laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Well, it might be too late for that," she told him, ignoring the look of surprise on his face. "Always too late," she muttered, willing her eyes to focus on the small black print.

The comment had both hurt and surprised Greg. He knew that Sara hadn't actually meant that, knew that deep inside she was hurting. More than anything, he wanted to help her, he wanted to see her smile again, wanted to hear her precious laugh. The Sara he once knew was gone, and in her place, a demon had taken over. He was desperate to bring her back.

Still, the words had more impact than he could have imagined. He tried to fumble for the right words, but his mind drew a complete blank. Opening his mouth he tried to say her name, but she cut him off.

"Just leave me alone," she told him, "I don't want to be bothered. Least of all you, you've messed up enough already."

The statement shocked Greg. "I messed things up?" he questioned, his voice a tad higher than normal. He was even more stunned to watch her nod. In the next moment, his shock and confusion was replaced by anger and rage.

Standing up quickly, he nearly knocked the chair over, earning a look of surprise from Sara this time. "If that's how you feel, then I'll just go," he told her. "Forget it; if you don't want my help, then don't ask for it."

She seemed to be taken aback, but only for a moment as she forced a nod, meeting his gaze evenly. "I never did," she told him quietly.

Greg paused long enough to hear her last comment, then he left the room is such a rush, it unnerved her. Within the next second, his words finally registered, her mind catching up with the events. Resting her forehead on her hand, she closed her eyes, willing herself not to start crying.

Things now were only getting worse, now she had chased off her only friend, the only person in the world that could have possibly cared for her, cared enough to at least notice that she was a living, breathing thing. And now he was gone, just like that.

Running her hand over her sleeve, and up her arm, she flinched as they came in contact with the cuts. What more could possibly go wrong? What else could she screw up? It was then she couldn't help the tears that ran down her face as she broke down emotionally.

She couldn't take this, coming here had been a mistake. She thought that she could handle it, but she was wrong. Pushing herself up, she hurried out the door, not even bothering to finish up the reports, or telling anyone of her actions. She couldn't bear to talk to anyone right now; no one would listen, or understand. It wasn't as if she could blame them either. Pushing past the last set of doors she drew in a deep breath, the warm night air hitting her harshly. Stumbling to her car, she fumbled for the handle, her vision swaying at the sudden movements. She felt beyond sick, her stomach heaving although there was nothing inside, and she found herself spiraling, the concrete slamming into her hands and knees.

Letting out a prolonged sob and gasping for air at the same time; Sara reached up, pulling door open shakily. She needed to get out of here, and now, her mind nowhere near rationalization as she drug her exhausted body into the car, pulling the door shut behind her.

After a few meek attempts, she was able to get the car started, pulling out in one long turn. The darkness surrounded her, the road barely visible through all her tears as she gunned the vehicle towards the main road, failing to hear the sharp warning that was sounded from oncoming traffic.

TBC