A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed, I was really shocked at how many reviews I got for the first chapter. You guys are all very encouraging and you seriously made my day. I was squee-ing my head off for hours! Hope you guys like this new chapter, Warrick appears in this one!
Chapter One: Tears of Alcohol
"Would you like another one?"
Sara looked up at the bartender who took her empty beer bottle from her. She nodded quickly.
"Keep them coming."
What had happened the night before was something Sara definetly did not want to remember. She knew drinking probably wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do at the moment, but she didn't have a lot of options. One night, one horrific ordeal...and one decision: she wanted to be numb. And so she was going to be numb.
Thank god she still had time before she had to go back to work. When she had woken up, she had looked around only to discover that she was in her apartment. So great, that meant that whoever had done that to her knew where she lived. The bathroom of her apartment was a mess- she was so exhausted to do anything when she had come to that she didn't bother to pick up any discarded clothing. So in the bathroom lay the torn remains of her clothes, mostly anything and everything that had to do with the horrific details of the night before.
Except for the physical reminders of what she went through. That damn rope sure had done a number on her wrists. Dark purple and red rings encircled her wrists, along with scabs from where the rope had dug into them. She had a nasty bruise on her right remple and various bruises and cuts,- the bruises mostly resembling fingers- on different parts of her body.
She didn't go to the hospital. But she had a reason not to. She didn't want to make a big deal over this, it was a stupid mistake on her part. If only she hadn't decided to work that stupid case at the lab she knew would give her nightmares, or gone to that bar and gotten trashed, being too tired to check where the bus was going before she got on, this wouldn't have happened to her and she wouldn't have this giant secret to hide from everyone.
She was weak.
And she made a stupid choice.
She couldn't get over how stupid she had been! She was the one always going on about how she was trained in weaponless defense, and there she was unable to do anything to defend herself.
"Ma'am, are you okay?"
Sara blinked when the bartender looked over at her.
"Would you like a tissue?" he asked her.
Sara didn't even know she was crying. He handed her a tissue and she thanked him, drying the streaks of tears that were running down her cheeks.
She wasn't going to let anyone know about this. They couldn't. They would think of her as...stupid, weak, pathetic. And that was not the image Sara Sidle wanted her coworkers, and friends, to see her as.
So she was going to be strong. Or at least she was going to appear strong.
Because...the truth...was that Sara was terrified. Horrified that such a thing could've happened to her, terrified that it would happen again and she wouldn't be able to stop it. Disgusted that someone took advantage of her like that, and afterwards had no feelings or remorse or sorrow. She was a trophy for her assailant.
And 'assailant' wasn't even the right term. It was 'rapist'. But she hated that word. She wanted to gag when she heard it. And she couldn't bare the thought that now she was just another rape victim. A statistic in a record book.
Sara was getting more and more angry with herself with every thought that crossed her mind. Picking the brown bottle in front of her up, she gulped down the rest of it and called the bartender over. As if on cue, the bartender removed her empty bottle and slid a new one in front of her, which she took greedily.
And so she sat. And she drank. And she tried to wash the horrible memories away with a few sips of alcohol.
Warrick Brown had seen a lot of things in his lifetime. Being a criminalist, he had gone to crime-scenes and had seen the most outrageous things. He had seen suspects that were still at the scenes with no clothes on, he had seen bodies that had been butchered with each seperate body part wrapped in plastic bags. Really, there was almost nothing he didn't think he had already seen.
Except for what he was about to see tonight.
He was currently in his Tahoe, driving along the Strip listening to some music. It had been a long night, another long shift, and all he needed right now was a drink. Sure, he could just run to a liquor store and buy a six-pack to take home, but he wanted to get out, maybe even chat with a few people. He had felt like he was being suffocated in the lab, he had been in there for some odd-hours straight and he needed to get some space and some time to himself.
And it wasn't like he had anything or anyone to go home to anyways. Tina and Warrick had officially divorced, she actually threw the ring at his head, it was a wonder it didn't hit him. Warrick had loved Tina, but...there was a part of him that had been suspecting that their marriage wasn't going to work out. The second he slid the ring onto her finger he knew that this wasn't right, it didn't seem right and it didn't feel right. It just wasn't going to end well, he knew right then and there.
And besides, she looked happy with the 'birthday planner' she had been with. Yeah, birthday-planner-Warrick's-ass. They looked pretty friendly in the casino, and even more friendly when Warrick had come home and walked in on them in their bedroom.
His bedroom. Where he slept. It was sickening...what if they had done that...before he caught them, and he slept in that bed...?
So needless to say Mr. Brown had a lot on his mind.
Turning the radio off, he pulled his car over to the side of the road right behind another car and put it in park. He grabbed his keys and put them in his pocket and opened his door, getting out. After closing his door, Warrick locked the car up and walked across the street to the bar. It was actually a bit cold that night, and it was started to sprinkle.
Walking inside, Warrick tugged down the sides of his black leather jacket, playing with his keyring in his hands. Walking through the building, he smiled a few people sitting down, he had certainly gotten more than woman's attention. Walking over to the bar, he sat down on a stool and motioned to the bartender to come over to him.
"What can I get for you, Sir?" the bartender asked.
"Rum and Coke," Warrick said.
"Coming right up."
Warrick looked around as he waited for the bartender to come back with his drink. The bar was a fair size, not too small, not too large. There were flashing lights and music was playing in the background, but it wasn't deafening which he found nice. The bar also wasn't that busy, so that would give him time to sit and think.
"Here you are, Sir," the bartender said, setting his drink down in front of him.
"Thank you," Warrick said, reaching into his pocket for some money. Setting a few bills down on the counter, he looked across from him and saw someone sitting across from him. Their face was hidden behind a beer bottle, but it was a woman, he could tell by the long brown hair of the person. She looked to be alone, and looked as if she had been there for a while.
And the bottle was taken away and Warrick saw who this woman was. It was none other than Sara Sidle.
But what was she doing here? It was her week off, but that was beside the point, her alcohol problem was over and done with. She was seeing a counselor about that, he knew, he had overheard Grissom talking about it over the phone to Brass. So why was she here...? He thought she had been doing so well, she always seemed to go straight home after work and she declined all of Catherine's invitations to go out and get a drink.
From what Warrick could see, Sara looked absolutely horrible. She had bags under her eyes and her hair was messy. She looked absolutely exhausted.
He sighed a picked his drink up, deciding to go see how she was doing. He had never seen Sara like this before, she was always so full of life, and...this wasn't the Sara he knew.
He stared at the shadow of what she was, and stared at the person she had become. Where had the old Sara Sidle gone?
Walking over to Sara, he noticed she lifted her head and made eye-contact with him. It took her a moment to register that he was actually there, and he offered a small wave of his hand to greet her. But the second the realization that one of her coworkers was witnessing her drinking so much had hit her, she immediately got up out of her seat.
"Whoa, Miss, careful," the bartender told her, offering a hand to help her steady herself as she swayed back-and-forth. "Do you have someone to drive you home?" he asked her.
Sara completely ignored the voice of the bartender. Everything was muted out except for the tiny voice in her head that was screaming at her to get out of there. It's Warrick! He sees you, he knows what you're doing! He's going to ask you what you're doing, and then why! Your drinking problem was supposed to be gone, imagine what's going to happen! You're going to get in trouble with Grissom and Ecklie! Get the hell out of there!
"Sara...?" Warrick asked, tilting his head as he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with...an emotion Warrick couldn't make out. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
GET OUT OF THERE! Sara's mind screamed at her. That was the only other motivation Sara needed, and as Warrick took a step toward her she bolted for the back exit.
"Sara!" Warrick said, quickly setting his drink down and running after her.
He can't find out, he can't know why you were drinking... Sara thought, running out of the bar, the door flung open behind her. He can't find out about what happened...
"Sara, stop!" Warrick yelled, running out the door. It was now pouring down rain if that was even possible (Warrick didn't see how it could be since it seemed like only moments ago that it had started to sprinkle), and the ground was soaked with water, making it slippery. Sara was fast, but he was catching up quickly. But why was she running in the first place? "Sara, stop! I want to talk to you!"
You can't talk to him, he'll find out what happened and you can't afford to let that happen. He can't know that you made such a stupid mistake! Sara told herself, rounding a corner.
"Sara, stop!" Warrick said again. He rounded the corner after her, watching as she continued down the sidewalk, her hair now sopping wet and sticking to the sides of her face.
Keep going! Keep going, you have to! Sara thought, running still.
Warrick was finally centimeters away from her after running what seemed like a few miles. Finally catching up to her at the side of a 7-Eleven, he wrapped his arms around her waist to stop her from going any further, his grip tight but gentle.
"Let go of me!" Sara screamed, kicking and thrashing against him.
"Sara, stop!" Warrick yelled again, tightening the hold he had on her. Why was she struggling against him, why was she running in the first place? It didn't make sense.
"Let me go, leave me alone!" Sara yelled. She turned around and threw a few punches at him- weak ones, Warrick might add- landing blows to his chest.
"Sara, dammit, stop!" Warrick yelled as she continued to try and swing at him. He grabbed onto her wrists to keep her still. She winced, trying to tear her wrists away from him, and this did not go unnoticed by Warrick. Looking down at Sara's sopping-wet shirt sleeves, he reached down and slowly lifted one of the sleeves up to reveal her bruised wrists. "My god, Sara..." he whispered. "What happened?"
Sara just stared up at him, finally not struggling anymore against Warrick. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes, her bottom lip starting to quiver as she fought back the tears that were threatening to fall.
"Sara..?" Warrick asked again, letting go of her wrists and putting a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Sara, just tell me what happened.." he quietly told her, looking into her eyes.
And that was when Sara broke down and started to cry. She was already on the verge of tears and seeing his concerned puppy-dog eyes looking into hers made her crack. She buried her face against his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his back as she cried.
"Sara..." Warrick whispered, wrapping an arm around her and burying one hand in her hair to gently rub her head. "It's okay, Sara..." he told her, though he still didn't know why she was crying. "It's okay, Sara, you can tell me.." he whispered, resting his head against hers.
"Take me home," Sara whispered. "Please...I just want to go home..."
"...Okay," Warrick told her, beginning to pull away from the embrace to get out his keys.
"No," Sara whispered, squeezing him even tighter. "Don't let go," she said, her knuckles beginning to turn white from how tight her hold on the loose ends of his shirt was. "Please, don't." She felt like she was naked in front of a crowd, she just felt...exposed. And it was unnerving, she felt as thought the second she let of him, or he let go of her, she was going to be unsafe, in the line of fire.
"Okay," Warrick told her. "It's okay," he said. "I'm going to pick you up, okay?" he quietly asked. Sara just nodded. Turning Sara around, Warrick scooped her up into his arms, one arm holding onto her legs and the other propping her back up. She rested her head against his chest and kept her hold on his shirt. "I'm going to carry you to the car," he told her, starting to walk back.
"Thank you," Sara whispered, closing her eyes.
"No problem.." Warrick told her. Now he knew something was definetly wrong, but what? Looking down at her, Warrick could see that the layers of make-up she had on were washed away from the rain, exposing a rather large and nasty-looking bruise on her right temple. Warrick winced, gently brushing his fingertips over it. What the hell had happened to Sara? Warrick didn't know.
But he did know one thing.
If someone hurt her, he was going to kill that son-of-a-bitch.