Act 49: Sara
I could say that I'm surprised to find Sidney at the front desk when I'm exiting the lab but I'm not really.
He doesn't say anything when I'm at his level, simply holds out his left hand. I drop my car keys in them and continue walking to my car knowing he's following me.
The ride back to my place is silent, the first words are pronounced once the door of my apartment is closed behind us.
"Shower, snack, teeth, bed," he orders softly.
I do as I'm told, to drained and tired to argue. Twenty minutes later I'm showered, wearing a shirt and shorts, staring at the light breakfast Sidney cooked.
"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks when I finally pick up the half of toast in my plate.
I shake my head.
Yesterday I had a black out, I didn't know what had happened for several hours, but from the state of my living room I could tell that I had had a fit of rage. I figured things were almost completely out of my control and that it would be wise for me to stay away from work for a few days, the less triggers I faced the better. I was somewhat honest with Grissom and being Grissom he was understanding, granted me a week off on a short notice.
I finish the toast and drain the glass of milk but don't touch anymore food. Sidney sighs in disapproval but doesn't push.
"Teeth, bed," he reiterates his previous order, once again I follow without a protest.
Ten minutes later I'm lying on my bed under the cover. Sidney moves the armchair in one of the corners of my room so it's next to my bed. He sits down and opens a book he brought back from the living room. "When he was thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow…"
I focus on his voice, it floats in the room, surrounds me like a warm and comforting embrace, like an armour against the nightmares.
When I wake up again my heart is beating wildly in my chest and cold sweat running down my spine. After a minute, when I've resituated myself I sit up. Sidney isn't in the armchair anymore so I get out of bed and go look for him.
He's sitting on my couch watching the TV with the sound muted. "How are you feeling?" he asks without tearing his eyes off from what looks like a rerun of Kim Possible.
"Like crap," I reply grumpily. "And thirsty."
He finally looks up. "You do look like crap."
I roll my eyes. "Thanks bro."
He stands up and goes on the kitchen side of my counter. I sit on one of my stools and wait. He offers me a tall glass of water and let me drain it before speaking again. "Want to try eating?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Toast and eggs it is," he nods firmly, I briefly wonder what the point of asking me a question is if he's not going to consider my answer at all.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Four hours," he replies after checking the clock on the wall. "Barely one on your own though."
I rest my forehead on the counter and close my eyes. I don't really feel rested, but I guess I have a lot of sleep to compensate so four hours straight can't really do the trick even though it's the longest I've slept in a while, at least without the help of alcohol.
I lift my head up and prop my left hand up to rest it. I watch Sid cooking for a few seconds then my gaze wanders off. I sigh heavily when I notice empty bottles next to my trash bin. Apparently Sid took it upon himself to get rid of all alcoholic beverages in my apartment.
He turns around and places a small plate filled with scrambled eggs and a toast cut in two triangles in front of me.
"Was it really necessary?" I ask tilting my chin toward the bottles.
"Eat," he simply answers.
I glare at him. "You do know I paid for those, right?"
He tilts his head "Ask yourself this question: is it really an argument I want to have right now?"
I sustain his gaze for a few seconds in defiance but then cave in and look down at my plate. "Eat your food," he repeats then leans against the other counter with a book in his hands.
I eat half of a toast and a forkful of egg then start pushing my food away. "Is Charlie mad?" I finally ask.
Sidney looks up from the book he was reading. "He's worried. You've blacked out, that hadn't happened in a very long time."
I keep pushing my food around but stop when I feel Sid staring at me.
"When are you due back to work?"
"I took a week off."
"Good."
No further words are exchanged, I return and force myself to finish my plate, if only to avoid having him force feeding me – something I know he'll do if I don't make efforts on my end.
After I'm showered we watch some cartoons, then he decides that we should go to the gym, there we box, and even follow a MMA training class, then we go back to my place to shower and have lunch. We spend a quiet afternoon both reading in our corner, then we round up the day with a long run. By the time we're back to my place for the evening I'm physically exhausted.
We have a quiet diner, watch a movie then I go to bed. Like the previous day he reads to me and I let the sound of his voice soothe me into sleep.
The next two days are spent in the same fashion with Sidney exerting me during the day and then watching over me while I sleep.
On day four I feel finally rested for the first time in a long time. I feel miserable, but rested. I keep mulling over things, thinking about Catherine, about the state of our relationship, about the fact that the Damocles' sword hanging over my head is about to fall.
Unlike the past days Sidney hasn't forced me out of the apartment. I must say that my body feels sore from the grinding exercising my brother has put me through. I'm aware that he did it to lessen the chance of me having fit; it doesn't hurt that physical exertion generally leads me to dreamless sleep.
I'm numbing my mind with cartoons when he plops down on the couch next to me.
"I'm all ears," he says after a while.
I shrug and keep watching the TV. I know I'm being petty right now, after all Sidney has done been taking care of me since he got here, never pushing for a conversation so the least I could do now is be easy about that talk he wants to have.
He waits before speaking again. "Rueben said you've been calling him regularly."
"I call each one of you regularly," I mumble.
He takes a deep breath as if to refuel his patience. He grabs the remote then turns off the TV and moves to sit on the wooden coffee table so we're facing each other.
"A month and a half ago, you were high on happiness, in love, an idiot smile permanently attached to your lips. You were ready to talk to Catherine," he speaks with a soft voice. "I've seen her when I came to pick you up and she looks as miserable as you do if not more which lets me know that you haven't talked to her at all."
I break the eye contact and stare at my hands.
"Hey look at me," he demands gently. He doesn't continue until I'm looking at him again. "Something happened to make your fits more frequent and intense, you've been calling Rueben a lot meaning you're having nightmares about that night again, and those are intense enough for you to tip the bottle to numb yourself on the regular, which by the way isn't the smartest move you could have done and you know it. This all leads us to you blacking out."
I know that he's not judging me and he's only stating the facts but the more he talks the more I feel ashamed of myself.
"What happened to trigger this?" he lays a comforting on my knee. "Scout, talk to me."
I take a minute to gather my thoughts then I finally speak. He listens silently and waits patiently for me to be done.
"She said something about some criminal, you took it personally and shut her out without so much as an explanation," he sums up. He briefly closes his eyes and exhales a short breath. "Do you need me to say that out loud again or does it sound stupid enough the first time around?"
"Screw you!" I retort immediately and go to stand up but he snap and point his finger at me.
"You can your attitude right now," his voice is calm but firm. "I might be here to hold your hand but don't think I'll have a conscience case about kicking your ass. Whether you like it or not you're hurting her and right now it sounds like it's for some callous excuse needless to say that doesn't sit well with me."
I look away and clench my jaw not to let any unfortunate word slip. "This is not a way to treat people, least of all people you care about. You know better than that, so you don't get to be petty right now," he continues.
"It's not a callous excuse. Don't you see that I'm like that guy?"
"Unless you've killed people for sports in your spare time, you're nothing like that guy."
"Please…"
"You're nothing like that guy!" he says more forcefully.
"You know what I did!" I explode effectively silencing him. I stand up and start to pace. "I stabbed Dad! I beat several people in fits of rage and you were there every time, you're the one who stopped me!"
I'm heaving now, saliva filling my mouth like some rabid animal. "You're going to stand there and tell me I'm different?"
"Yes, you are!" he almost shouts. He stands up and comes to stand right in front of me.
"If it wasn't for me, Mom…"
"If it wasn't for you Rueben would be dead!" he cuts me off sharply then sighs. "Scout, you need to let this go."
There's a long pause and when he speaks again he's calmer. "He was enraged and he was killing Rueben, you stabbed him in the shoulder to make him stop. What Mom did after… it wasn't your fault, she did what she had to in order to protect us…" he sighs. "You need to stop thinking there was any good outcome possible that night cause there wasn't."
He pauses and licks his lips. "Those other times? You always snapped because someone was hurting one of us."
He puts his hands on my shoulders. "You might see a monster but what I see is someone whose protective instincts took over in violent ways because of circumstances. And back then you didn't know how to handle things differently."
"It's not okay…" I shake my head.
"I didn't say it was. But you were acting to protect someone and that makes the difference."
"I still have fits…"
"That doesn't make a monster out of you, Scout."
"I think she'll beg to differ," I let out a depreciative snort.
"Scout…" he sighs.
"What if she leaves me?"
"She's going to leave anyway if you don't talk, what other choice do you have?" he asks rhetorically. "I'm not letting you walk away from this. I'll drag you to her place by the skin of her ass if I have to, you'll go kicking and screaming but you will talk to her."
"What if she leaves me?" I repeat my question with more anguish.
He pauses. "Then she leaves you."
I exhale a shaky breath and tears fill my eyes because that answer does very little to assuage my fears.
"Life will go on, it will be excruciatingly painful and long, but just like for everything else you'll eventually get over it.'
He gently frames my face in his hands. "You say you love her, then trust her. It's not love or trust, it's both or none at all."
He lets his words sinking in. "Scout, you can't make her stay by only showing the good. She has to be with you on her own terms, it's her decision not yours. The only things you can do is being completely honest with her and trust her. Trust that what you have is strong enough, trust that what she feels is strong enough to accept this. Trust her."
He sighs. "And if it's not enough, then it's not enough; but at least you'd have given it a real, fair chance."
I nod in defeat, he kisses my forehead in response then wraps me in a hug.
No words are added on the subject and the rest of the day goes quietly. He takes care of me, and I absorb as much comfort as I can, mentally preparing myself for what is to come.
As if not to let me the opportunity to flee, Sidney drives me to Catherine's house the next day. We've been parked near her house for the past five minutes, and I've been trying to find the strength but my body feels like lead right now.
"Hey," Sidney calls me softly. I turn to look at him, expecting him to find the right words like he always seems to, but instead he pretends to steal my nose and stick his tongue out. I snort and managed a barely there grin. He smiles satisfied with himself then silently leans in to kiss my temple.
I take a deep breath and open the door, there not much point to delay the inevitable except making me more nervous.
I walk to Catherine's door like one would walk to the gallows, my heart is beating erratically, my palms are sweaty and there's a big lump in my throat, I clench my jaw so much I feel sick when the bell rings. When the door is opened two minutes later Catherine seems very surprised to see me, if I wasn't on the verge of a panic attack I'd probably laugh.
"Hey."
"Hi," she replies a stunned expression still on her face.
"Are you busy?" she shakes her head and I nod. "We need to talk."
After a pause she steps aside and lets me in.
This is it.
Fuck.
The book Sidney reads to Sara is 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee
