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Present Time
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The rain continued to pelt down, feeding the rivulets and pools, churning into a river of mud, flattening everything in its path. As Sara gazed down at the car that had recently been her prison, the mirror she had torn from it clamped safely in her good hand, she felt the earth start to shift under her feet, shaking her from the dazed relief of her escape. Time to get to higher ground, Sidle. No use getting free only to be caught in a mudslide.
Each step was a struggle, as the saturated earth acted like quicksand, pulling at her feet and reluctantly releasing each with a sucking gurgle, the sound lost amid the pounding rain, howling wind, and crashing thunder. Slowly, painfully, she made her way up the slope of a nearby rocky outcrop. Better to get to a local high spot and wait it out than to try hiking farther in these conditions. Each step upward jarred her broken arm, and she fought to hold it near her body as the flowing water tried to wash her away. As she neared the top, the pull of the water decreased, until she was finally able to rest, leaning against a large boulder, meager protection from the pouring rain and swirling winds.
Panting, shivering with pain and cold, Sara laid her head against the rock face and tried to catch her breath. Her arm throbbing in time with her pulse, head aching from a combination of her fall and the drug, she listened as the roaring of water and mud grew louder below her even as the rain began to slacken. Okay. Made it out of there just in time. Gotta stay here a while... Let's take stock, Sidle... Broken arm -- could be worse, you don't walk on your arm... Pounding head -- probably clear up soon, don't think I got a concussion, just got to wait for the drug to pass out of my system... Any other major injuries? -- Don't think so. Arm's the worst, take care of it first.
Using her good arm and her teeth, Sara managed to strip the remnants of her light shirt off her body, tearing it along a rip made during her escape, and fastening the long piece including the two arms into a loose sling around her battered left arm. Okay. Good. What next? ... I'm so cold! Desert, ha! First I nearly drown, now I'm on the verge of hypothermia, great... Okay, got some shirt left, maybe covering my head will trap some heat in. It'll help once the sun comes up anyway.
Huddling in on herself, feeling the rain start to slow, she worked to regain control of her body, willing the shivering to stop. Okay. It's not cold. Mind over matter, Sidle! Think warm thoughts... Warm fuzzy thoughts... Lying on the couch with Bruno and Gil... Warm sunlight soaking into my chest, warm boxer snoring on my feet, warm fingers running through my hair, warm kisses peppering my forehead... yeah, that'll do...
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1987
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A small train winding round and round, threading past perfect tiny houses, little people waving it on as it passed. One house catching her attention.
"It's here."
"Yeah, I made that of our house. Do you see the kids? Those are the chosen ones. Soon I'll make one of you."
"It's wrong."
"What's wrong?"
"You only put ten sticks on the fence, there should be twelve... The tree is too short, it should be taller than the house... The window curtains are the wrong color... There's no tire swing, why don't you have the swing?"
"You're right, Natalie. It's all wrong. Wanna help make it right? I'll show you how."
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"Natalie, you can't push the other girls. You have to be a good girl."
"Your special girl?"
"Only if you're good. Why did you push Rosie off the slide?"
"I could see it."
"What did you see?"
"Like a broken doll... Hands curled up like in sleep. Legs on the grass. Red spilling on green."
"Natalie, do you see that a lot?"
"S-Sometimes."
"When?"
"That smell..."
"Do you see other things?"
flash
"Yellow tape -- 'Crime Scene - Do Not Cross.' Flashing lights, red and blue. A sky blue car, white stripes on the side, broken on a metal pole. Body falling from the window, black pants and red shirt, bald head. Green fluid dripping under the car. Red pool by the driver."
"That -- That was on the news last night. A drunk driver hit a light pole. When did you see that?"
"Bus from school."
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"Natalie, what do you do when you see things in your head? Things that haven't happened yet?"
"I-I-I just see them."
"Do you ... Do you make them happen?"
"S-S-Sometimes."
"Well, you have to stop making them happen. You need to be a good girl, and good girls don't do things like that. Do you promise?"
"I promise."
"What if you made things happen small, on my train instead of with real people? You can take all those pictures from your head and put them in a model. Things that already happened, too. Okay?"
"Okay."
"That's my special girl... Let's make the car first... for practice."
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Earlier Today
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As he rushed toward a meeting with the serial killer who held the key to finding Sara, the thunder rumbling across the dark, saturated sky seemed to echo his mood. Focus on what you know about her, Gil, blowing up won't help anyone... She's been shunted from home to home almost her whole life, no one willing to help her. She connected with Dell because he taught her, worked with her. Need to use that...
He stopped by the reception desk, "Have they brought in Natalie Davis for questioning?"
"They're on their way, sir. Just processing her now. It'll be interrogation room 3."
He moved down the hall, taking a seat on the bench, placing his head in his hands. Sara was in the system too, and she let it strengthen her. Her experiences could have broken her, but they didn't. Briefly he allowed the memory of Sara, surrounded by the deep purples of her apartment, struggling not to break down as she admitted to the horrors of her past. So strong... What was different about Natalie? She too was obviously a strong woman, but ... Psychopath? Sociopath? If so, it would be important to focus on her, feed into her feeling of being special, a 'chosen one' as Ernie called them... Approach like Ernie, not like her father.
He raised his head as Brass walked up, followed by two officers escorting Natalie. Without saying a word, he stood and joined Jim at the observation window, allowing the officers to settle her at the table, and watching as she got comfortable. Brass was quietly seething beside him. You made a grave mistake when you chose to mess with Sara, Natalie. This is a side of Jim rarely glimpsed. The thought would have amused him if he wasn't so close to the boiling point himself.
Brass simmered over first, "I don't want to waste time screwing around with this nutcase. I'm going to get some bleach and drip it on her until she gives up the location. And they can't accuse us of police brutality for that."
God, I understand the sentiment... but it won't help Sara. -- Natalie wanted my attention, well she's got it. He turned to his friend, "I want to talk to her, Jim. Alone." Something of his determination must have shone through his eyes. After a moment, Brass simply nodded and watched as Grissom walked in to greet the woman who had stolen his life.
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1991
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"Mr. Dell, I'm sorry to hear about your wife. Unfortunately, with you working full time and already caring for a teenage son, you no longer meet the requirements for fostering."
"She loved them kids. It's hard."
"I understand Mr. Dell."
"We only got six left. Can I keep 'em 'til you find 'em new homes?"
"Sure, you two did wonders for those kids. I'm so impressed with Natalie's progress in particular. Yours is the first home with multiple children where she's been able to remain more than a week or two. Whatever method you used, it definitely seemed to work."
"Gave her attention. Let 'er help me out. She's good with her hands. Good memory too."
"Well, it would be good for her if you can keep in touch with her. I know you can't continue to care for her, but it would be good for her to know she's still special to you."
"Yeah, my special girl. The one thing I done right."
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"Natalie, I gotta let you go, sweetie. They won't let me keep you now that momma's dead and Lionel's in trouble and I gotta work to pay off her damn hospital bills, not that them fancy doctors did 'er any good."
"I-I-I've got to g-g-go away?"
"Yes, honey, but I still want to see you, whenever you need me. You know the number, you call whenever you want. Maybe we can work together on weekends, build some more models. 'Kay?"
"I'm still your special girl?"
"Yes, honey, you'll always be my special girl. Love you."
"Love you too."
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Earlier Today
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I can't believe I... I screwed it up. I knew -- KNEW -- not to make it about Sara. I knew it. But it IS about her... How could I find out where she is without making it about her? I don't know. I just don't know... As Grissom berated himself, part of him watched in fascination as the officer guided Natalie down the hall, still muttering that dreadful song under her breath. She had slipped away into the depths of her mind, and he could find no way of bringing her back.
He turned slowly as Brass finally succeeded in gaining his attention, "I just got off the horn with Search and Rescue. We have three choppers in the air with night vision and IR. Now the weather's getting cooler, so a warm body will be easy to find."
I know that tone. He's treating me like the panicked relative of a missing person... Well, he's not far off... Forcing a calm he didn't feel, he injected a little realism into the conversation, "If Sara's under the car, the metal will conceal her." Sorry, Jim, I appreciate the effort, but...
"Maybe she got out."
He barely heard his friend's second attempt to calm him, as an alert tone from the television caught his attention, "...severe weather... with the latest on this update." He moved closer, trying to hear over the bustle of the police station.
"Three thunder storms are converging and heading right for us. So, up to 3 inches of rain. They're expected to hit in the next eight hours. Flash flood warnings have been issued for the city and surrounding desert areas."
Half listening to the reporter, his attention was focused on the screaming tagline, underlining her words, making them real. SEVERE WEATHER ALERT FOR THE LAS VEGAS AREA THROUGH THE REMAINDER OF THE EVENING... HEAVY RAINS ARE EXPECTED... FLASH FLOODING COULD BE SEEN IN LAS VEGAS...
Oh God! No! NO! -- He spun and strode from the station, hurrying through the rain which had begun to fall, back toward the lab and the miniature replica of the desert surrounding Sara. Gil, think! -- Okay, what does this mean? It could mean that she has a ready supply of water if she's not in the path of a flood. Keep her hydrated...or it could mean she -- No! Don't think like that... Never assume, trust the evidence... Natalie's models have always been perfect, down to every last detail, she'd have the topography right.
He grabbed a beaker from Trace as he passed, filling it hastily with distilled water, and almost ran to the layout room, barely pausing to flick on the lights. Not really wanting to know, dreading the answer, he slowly poured the water onto the hills above the car, hoping -- praying -- that it would run off, spill out on to the lighted table, watching in horror as it puddled beneath Sara, her hand twitching feebly then stopping -- stopping. Oh God! God, Jim, I hope you're right.
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TBC
A/N: Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome.