A/N - So here it is, the final chapter. I, unfortunately, will not be writing fanfiction anytime soon. I am moving and I have yet to get a laptop so writing will be put on hold for now. However, I will be keeping track of my stroies the old fashioned way, through paper and pen. So enjoy the final chapter, reveiw and I'll see you all very soon. Oh and before I forget, thank you all for everything. Over the last few months, my writing has improved. while it is not up to a standard of some of the writers on this website, it is getting better and better with every new idea. So thank you for the encouragment and even the critism. It has all helped. So read, reveiw and tell me what you think!
Chapter Six – Finding Reason To Believe
It was more then Sara had expected it to be. For some reason, she had expected to see high fences, barbed wire and patrolling officers, a little like a prison. That was definitely the view she got from what Catherine had told her about The Messengers. Instead it was all green grass and delicious silence. There was a fence but it was the kind that you would find in any home anywhere in Vegas, right down to the slightly creaking hinges when she had opened it. They had sat in silence when the truck engine stopped, each preparing themselves for what they had to do. Sara could feel the determination rolling off Grissom, in waves that seemed to float around the car. She herself wasn't quite sure how she felt. She was torn between hatred and fear.
"Are you ready?"
Sara nodded and let herself fall into Grissom's arms for a quick hug, trying to take solace in the stability that was Grissom. She breathed in the familiar scent of toothpaste and talc off his shirt and smiled as a picture of grinning Amelia came into her mind. Now she could do this. She got out of the truck, straightened her jeans and T-shirt and she and Grissom strode side by side up a pebbled path to a large house that perched at the top. It looked like something out of a romantic movie, all wood logs and large windows. It was completely silent and not for the second time. Sara wondered where the children were. She allowed Grissom to step in front of her and knocked on the solid wood door, hopping slightly from foot to foot with impatience. The door was opened by a very small demure woman, who immediately lowered her eyes when she saw Grissom.
"Hi. Can we please talk to Jonathon?"
The woman immediately turned on her heel and moved away from the door as a large man approached, one that Sara knew was Jonathon Collin's. In normal life, Sara supposed that Collin's reminded her slightly of Grissom. He was distinguished, tall and handsome, but knowing what he had done, what he was doing, made him extremely unattractive.
"Yes?"
"Jonathon Collin's?"
"Depends on whom is asking."
Grissom produced his ID while Sara stood behind him, determined to leave hers where it was around her neck. He wanted to see it; he would have to ask her, why should she make it easy on him? As it was, his eyes didn't leave Grissom, almost as if she wasn't there at all.
"What do you want Mr. Grissom?"
"We have some questions for you regarding the death of Jaime Cullins."
"Who sorry?"
Grissom produced a picture from his pocket, handing it to Collins, who smiled slightly.
"Her name here was not Jaime. It was Dhelia."
"Ok, so Dhelia then. May we come in or did you want to speak out here?"
Collin's finally glanced at Sara who gave him a bright smile.
"I'm going to walk around outside, if that's ok with you Mr. Collins."
Collins said nothing so Sara set out towards a large oak tree in the distance, turning around a few seconds later to see Grissom's leg disappear into the house. She almost stumbled over the small girl that was reading a book under the tree, her feet slipping slightly on the damp grass before she could fall.
"Oh hello. I'm Sara."
The girl looked frightened, glancing around the grounds before smiling slightly.
"I'm Violet. Except here they call me Helen."
"Nice to meet you Violet. Can I sit with you?"
Violet nodded and shuffled over slightly on the blanket she had under her, making room for Sara.
"What are you reading?"
"The Bible. Jonathon tests people on it everyday and you don't know when he's going to do it, so you have to be ready."
"Do you like living here?"
"No. But I have nowhere else to go. I don't want to disappear like the others did."
Sara nodded and looked around at the expanse of green in front of them.
"Would you like to leave with me and my partner?"
"I cannot. He will find me. He always finds the others."
"How did you come to live here?"
"My mother married Jonathon about four years ago. I had no choice."
Violet lowered her face, her pretty blonde hair falling forward slightly.
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen. I am not married though. I refused the offers over and over again."
Sara took Violet's hand and clasped it in hers, feeling the same warmth she always felt with Amelia's.
"Well if you want to, you can leave with me."
"Where will I go?"
"What about your father?"
"He's around. He tried to visit me here but they would not let him in. The don't like strangers. Can I go home to him?"
"I am sure we can arrange something."
Sara glanced up to see Grissom all but being pushed out of the house, his eyes searching for her over the grounds.
"If you want to come with me, we have to go now."
Sara could see the internal battle going on in Violet before the girl gave Sara a small smile and stood up.
"Lets go."
And that was how Sara found herself doing something that she was sure fell only just short of kidnapping. She strode purposefully towards the truck, pushing Violet into the car and telling her to lock the doors before closing it behind her. During this time, Jonathon Collins had ordered a young man in a robe to stop Sara but she had her gun out and pointed at his chest before he got closer then a few feet.
"Back off."
Seeing the failure in this, Collins turned his anger to Grissom who was standing calmly before him, as if Sara had shared her plan all along with him.
"I show you hospitality and this is how you repay me?"
"How old is your youngest wife Jonathon?"
"I don't see-"
"How old?"
"Fourteen. In the ways of the Bible, girls are ready to marry the moment they begin their menstrual cycle."
"And do you commit incest?"
"They are my children and I will do with them as I please."
Far from anger now, he almost said these words with pride and Sara had to resist the horrible fleeting urge to point her gun at him and pull the trigger.
"And did you kill Jaime?"
"She disgraced us. She had The Chosen One within her and she did not leave her where she belonged."
"And what were your plans for this so-called Chosen One?"
"I was to marry her when she was old enough and create a more perfect race."
Grissom turned from Jonathon, his face contorted in a way that Sara had never seen before. It was terrifying. Jonathon watched as they hopped into the vehicle, leaning forward and tapping on the window. Sara let it go down a crack, her hand still on her gun.
"I lose nothing from letting you have Helen. But make no mistake; I know you have the child. And I will stop at nothing to bring her back to where she belongs. With me."
Grissom said nothing as he drove back towards the office, the silence spreading like a horrible disease. Sara got the impression that once again, she had disappointed him with her impulsiveness, but for some reason, she felt more justified in it then she had with the Amelia situation. She hadn't had time to think about what the options were, Violet was at risk. Grissom said nothing as they pulled into the HQ car park, opening the door for Violet, guiding her with a gentle hand on her elbow. They ran into Brass and he and Grissom had a hurried, whispered conversation before Brass began to talk to Violet, Grissom finally turning his attention back to Sara.
"My office please."
Sara followed him without a word, balancing on the edge of her seat as he settled in his.
"What is with this sudden impulsiveness?"
"How do you know that I'm not impulsive?"
"Because I know you Sara."
Sara narrowed her eyes at him, feeling suddenly exposed.
"Do you now?"
"Yes I do. I know you better then you think I do."
"Ok, let's put that theory to the test, shall we? What's my favourite colour?"
Grissom answered without hesitation, happy to put up with Sara's questions and doubts.
"Blue but it changes all the time. You once had an obsession with yellow when you were ten and you wore nothing but yellow for almost a month before a boy said that you looked like a giant banana."
"Worse habit?"
"That drumming thing you do with your fingers when you think."
"Am I a morning person?"
"Hell no. That's too easy, I live with you."
Sara, who had run out of the list of impromptu questions, sat silently as Grissom studied her carefully.
"What else do you want to know? That you have a passion for The Killers, Scissor Sisters and Nickelback? And that you always play the CD's when I'm not home because you don't think I would like the music. You love old detective novels because they don't call for a lot of correction on the forensic side of things and you have huge weakness for pasta and cookies and cream ice cream."
Sara's smile got wider and wider as he reeled off the facts that summed her with practised ease. She often forgot that when he paid attention he absorbed things like a sponge.
"So I repeat, what is with this sudden impulsiveness?
"I have no idea. I really don't."
Grissom nodded and studied her again, as if considering his options.
"I know that in theory the joy of impulsiveness is not thinking about your actions, but please do it for my sake, if not for yours. Last thing I want to ever do if fire my girlfriend."
Sara shifted in her seat as the light and easy mood in the room sunk and the more menacing thoughts floated to the top.
"Do you think Collins was serious about that threat?"
"I don't know. Maybe we should just be careful from now on, ok?"
Sara nodded as she relaxed a little more into her seat, her eyes catching Grissom's. He was being terribly patient considering the crap he had put up with from her. She found herself wondering just how in the world had she managed to keep him by her side.
It was a normal Sunday. There was absolutely nothing unusual about it. Sara had gotten up early and gotten some fresh bagels for her and Grissom and a soft croissant for Amelia, who was now on solids. Grissom had headed to work a little earlier then normal, hoping to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that Sara had seen the day before. She had put on her CD's, turned them up loud as she danced around, with Amelia in her arms, giggling like crazy. Grissom had told her that babies get more intelligent when they listen to music but she was fairly certain that he was talking about Mozart or Bach, not The Killers or Nickleback. Amelia was still squealing, demanding more long after Sara had run out of breath, feeling slightly dizzy from all the spinning and turning.
"You have too much energy, my love. Mommy needs to sit."
Sara turned the music down and sat with Amelia on her lap as she sipped at her glass of water, her head resting on Amelia's tousled hair.
"We should go and visit daddy later, shouldn't we? Go and take him something to eat."
Amelia perked up again as Sara mentioned Grissom before falling back into her normal nonsense chatter. She came out with words she occasionally recognised but mostly, Amelia spoke a language that either she or Grissom understood. Sara had approached Catherine about Amelia's lack of language but Catherine had waved off her concerns reassuring her that kids will talk when they are ready and there is nothing that she, as a mother, could do about it. And she had been right. Amelia came up with words now and then but seemed to prefer her baby talk. Which was cute, regardless of what age she was. It was the loud bang that snapped her out of her seat, her hand going to the top of the large bookshelf in the living room where she housed her gun. She kept one hand holding Amelia in place, the other clutching gun at her side. It was silent again and Sara felt her body begin to relax and she sunk back into her seat, trying to tell herself that it had been a backfiring car or a slamming door. Nothing to be worried about. It was then that she heard the creaking step that led to the front door. Grissom had repeatedly said he was going to get it fixed but he never got around to it. Sara eased quietly out of her seat and faced the door, her gun by her side. Which is why, when it burst open, she was in a way, prepared. It had been a long time coming but she had always known she would have to face him.
"Hello Collins."
"Miss Sidle, we meet again. I'm sure you remember my other two aides."
The two men flanked either side of Collin's, their eyes on Amelia, who clung to Sara.
"What do you want?"
"What do you think we want? I've come for my daughter."
He stepped forward but Sara pointed her gun at him.
"She is my daughter. I am her mother."
"I am her father."
"You signed away your legal rights when she was born."
"Jaime forged that."
Sara kept her gun level to his chest, her grip on Amelia tight.
"You are not taking her to be some sort of pawn in your game. I will kill you first."
Collins smiled and looked at the gun as though it was harmless.
"You could not kill me Sidle. I've known people like you all my life, the ones who hide behind their weakness."
"And what is my weakness?"
"Your emotion. You feel too much."
Sara felt like laughing in the man's face but instead settled for raising her gun slightly to his head.
"So is that how you do things? Devoid of emotion?"
"And it works. You can't cling to something if you don't want it. Now if you would just hand me my daughter, we'll be on our way."
He made a move forward at the same time that Sara stepped back.
"I will shoot you. Willing to test me?"
Collin's obviously didn't make much of her threat because he continued to advance on her and Sara made the decision to shoot. She lowered the gun slightly, moved her hand to cover Amelia's ear, pressing the other to her chest and pulled the trigger. Collin's seemed stunned as he watched the blood ooze from the wound and down his side. He stared at her with wide eyes before collapsing on the ground. Sara turned her eyes to the other two men who seemed torn with what to do next. It only took them a second to decide before they dashed out of the front door. Sara propped the now crying Amelia over her shoulder, bopping her slightly to try and calm her, her gun still aimed at Collin's. She eventually made her way over to the phone and called 911, praying that she was too late, that Collin's was dead. She hadn't bothered to feel for a pulse, settled for watching his blood pool on the floor, the exact same way that Jaime's had. After giving the operator her address and the situation, Sara sat back in the seat she was in before the attack, rocking Amelia gently in her arms, humming slightly under her breath. She didn't feel any remorse or anger anymore. She felt nothing at all. The police and ambulance officer's came into the house at the same time, filling it with white and blue bits of activity. She felt a hand on her shoulder and a familiar warm voice in her ear.
"Are you ok Sara?"
Brass moved to crouch beside her, his hand moving from her shoulder to her knee, his eyes finding hers.
"I told him he wasn't going to take Amelia but he kept trying. So I shot him."
"You did the right thing. Do you want me to take Amelia?"
Almost against her will, Sara's gripped tightened on her daughter.
"No, I'm fine Jim. Is Grissom coming?"
"He's on his way. You need to come to the hospital, get checked out."
"I'm fine Jim."
Brass moved his hand to under her chin, forcing her to focus on him.
"Humour me."
Sara said nothing as she continued to rock Amelia, her hand making lazy circles on the child's back. She wasn't asleep, Sara could feel her breathing, light and regular on her neck but at least now she was calm. She watched as Collin's was hauled out of the room, a various number of tubes and machinery on him and the police bagged her gun. She heard Grissom's footsteps and the next moment he was by her side.
"Sara are you ok?"
"He tried to take Amelia."
Grissom said nothing as he gently pulled her from her chair and led her out the door and to the truck. He slipped Amelia from her arms and into the car seat in the back before guiding Sara into the front seat and clipping on her seatbelt. It was like watching a zombie. She sat in white-faced silence, looking out the window but not seeing anything. He parked a bit crookedly at the hospital and pulled Sara and Amelia once again out of the truck and into the thong of nurses and doctors.
It was a few hours before Sara heard that Collin's had indeed died from his gunshot wound. It turned out that Sara had inadvertently hit a large artery in his leg. She had spoken to the police and they were pretty confident that she would not be up for murder considering what the evidence said. What got Sara was how she felt. She thought that killing Collin's would make her feel good, to know that she was saving all those people from him. But it turned out that killing him had the same effect that killing any other human being had. It sucked. She actually shed tears for him, wondering how in the world she was giving a damn about this devil of a man. But she knew that he must have been good once. Must have been kind and decent. Maybe she was crying for that part of him. Either way, the attack had left her nerves a little more then frazzled. She had become completely neurotic. The hospital staff, more under Brass's insistence so that the house could be cleaned, gave her a room for the next forty-eight hours, which Sara begrudgingly took. On one condition. Amelia would stay with her. Grissom didn't seem to mind, understanding that all she needed right now was the reassurance that her daughter was ok but it was hell on the nurses. She would not let anyone near Amelia and it drove them crazy. When the time was up, Sara was almost as happy to leave, as they were to see her go.
She had to appreciate the consideration that was Grissom. Blood is a hell of a thing to clean up. You can get to the surface area easily enough but the blood that seeped through the floor was impossible to get without tearing the whole thing out. He had done his best, reworking the furniture so that you couldn't see where the action had taken place, where a man's life force had seeped onto and through their floor. He had signed her off of work for the next week and set about spoiling her rotten with breakfast in bed and loads of her favourite foods but she could not cheer up. She had a wonderful partner; a wonderful daughter and she still felt like she was mourning the life she had taken. Maybe Grissom realised this more then she had figured because he went to work one day and Brass had taken his place by her side.
"Grissom's worried about you."
Grissom's always worried about me. He's a worrywart."
Brass offered her a beer that he withdrew from the dozen that he had sat beside his feet.
"Killing someone is never easy. Scum of the earth or not."
Sara sipped at her beer and let him speak.
"I have killed more then I have ever wanted to, ever dream I would when I was a rookie. I still remember the first guy I killed. His name was Hector Jones. He was forty-two and had a wife and two young daughters."
"Why did you kill him?"
"It was only my first month on the job. My partner, Sam Cooper and I went to a routine B&E and Hector shot Sam and then came after me with a knife. I shot him once in the chest and he bled to death. I still remember the way he looked at me when his life slipped from him."
Sara felt a tug of sympathy for the world battered cop.
"You were protecting yourself."
"And so were you. Why is it any different?"
Sara, not quite finding an answer for his question, sipped at her beer.
"You were protecting yourself and your child. And I guess the one true question is if you were faced with the same choice, the same situation, would you change anything?"
Sara sipped at her beer again as her eyes drifted over the view from the window where they both stood. It was turning out to be a nice day and she could feel the heat of the sun already beginning to burn her skin through the clear glass.
"No."
They moved seats to the window and had spent the rest of the day there. Amelia came and went as Sara and Brass took turns feeding her, changing her and keeping her entertained. It was soothing to have him there, back in her life, even if it was just for a day. He was the sarcastic, battered, grumbly cop that calmed her. He didn't tell her that her state of loss was silly or that she was overreacting. He himself had been there; to the dark dessert with the rolling cold winds, the place where the dead are and the living mourn. He was also there to pull her out and she let him. By the time Grissom arrived home that evening, Sara felt better It would be a little while before she could truly move on from this but at least she could find solace in that the worst of it was over. She could rest easy knowing that there were no monsters coming after her little girl and that Jaime's death had in some way been avenged. So as Sara put Amelia to bed that night, whispering sweet promises in her small ear, Sara felt at peace. She cleaned up the remnants from dinner, loaded the dishwasher, showered and hopped into bed next to Grissom, who was reading the latest forensics journal.
"Anything interesting in there?"
Grissom closed the book and took off his glasses.
"Not really."
They settled themselves under the covers, Grissom's arms tight around her waist, her head against his chest, raising and falling with his breaths.
"Hey Sara."
"Yes."
"Do want to get married?"
Sara felt the smile creep over her face, her head moving back to look him in the eye.
"Really?"
"I figured we could finally make us a family. I called Sophie yesterday and signed the papers to make Amelia my daughter too. So what do you say? Fancy being Mrs Grissom?"
Sara moved in a kissed him, all the feelings that she had felt for him came tumbling out into that kiss, making almost as passionate as the first all those months ago. The electricity was still there between them and her skin still burned where he touched her and she still wanted him even after her body was satisfied. She didn't think there would ever be a point she could not want him, not after knowing what being without him would cost her. She broke the kiss and smiled at his confused expression.
"As good as that was, was it a yes?"
"Yes."
Sara didn't think she could sleep again and continued to stare at the ceiling, her head still resting on Grissom's chest, counting the raise and fall. She was too happy to imagine what life would be like when the sun rose, happy to just be here with the man she loved, the man she was going to marry, the man who wanted her as well as the daughter he had grown to love. Much to her disbelief, Sara did feel sleep begin to tug on her eyelids, after all it had been a long day. She drifted to sleep, the wedding march weaving in and out of her dreams.
