Title: In Hell with Love
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its character. I'm just a fan.
Author's note: I missed you guys.
To jdcocoagirl (I'm glad you liked it. Sofia deserved a moment of niceness.) xoSnickerxo (I tried my best to update. Sorry it took so long. No more Sara torture, I promise. But recovery will be a hard process.) Rach5 (thanks for your review. That really encouraged me) necira (I was glad to see your review. Hopefully you'll be as pleased with this chap as you were with the previous) Melissa (I tried to add everyone. I'm glad you're happy with it. Btw I'm female, haha. But you can call me dude anytime.) kate2007 (thanks for your review.) Meg-Breanne (Hugs. I love it when you review. I just read a story from xoSnickerxo where she gave you a shoutout. You're always there to keep us sane and inspired. Love ya) leana9101 (here's the next chapter for you –grin- hope you'll like it) TenderWild (to my latest reviewer for the previous chapter, your review reminded me that I have a story to update. So thank you –smile-)
Special Shoutout: To angiesfan, thank you for writing a review. Knowing that you hardly write reviews made me feel really special when you wrote me one. I loved that you kept up with my story. I was worried that people will get turned off by the many chaps and words that I had to offer. Hope you'll enjoy this chap too. Hugs.
Phew. My shoutouts are getting longer and longer. But in a way, you guys deserve it – smile-
Chapter 21
… even though she was rescued, Sara never came home. They had lost her 2 years ago, and now, they're living with a ghost…
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Smoke flowed out through the open window. Slow and heavy, like being pulled out by a force against its will. His car hummed with a low intensity, vibrating his chair. He sat in his seat, thinking about his next move. He had been called for a psychiatric investigation on one victim: A victim he couldn't get his mind off ever since she went away…
Sara Sidle.
He was excited. In a few days, he'll walk through those doors and into her hospital room to evaluate her. He was called specifically by name. He was, after all, her PEAP counsellor, and there was no one else more qualified than he was.
Oh… the perks of being who he is.
He knew her strengths, her weakness, her joys and her fears. She will not be afraid of him. She would be too afraid to be afraid of him. He laughed at the irony. He had conditioned her not to tell a soul who he was. He had conditioned her to do what he says. He had complete control over her—his successful experiment. Surges of electricity flew through his vessels at the thought of seeing her again. He deeply inhaled the noxious smog… He had to smoke. Smoking helped calm him down, but it did nothing about the fear that came into his heart with a sudden realisation.
What if… what if she did confide in someone? What if she uttered his name for everyone to hear? What if they called him specifically to arrest him?
No, no, no… she wouldn't.
She knows what would happen to her if she did. She knows what would happen to her 'friends' if she talked. Sara was the kind of person who would protect anyone. Anyone… she thought worth protecting… she would protect even him, her tormentor. That was her weakness. He had exploited that. She wouldn't tell. She wouldn't.
For once, he felt afraid. Paranoid even. It was the first time he actually felt that he might get caught. He felt a little tint of anger at the possibility of being discovered, and the CSI were just jerking him around, inviting him for a mock evaluation. No one messes with him. No one. Sara wouldn't tell. She wouldn't tell…
She belongs to him…With the feeling of control slipping through his fingers like a heavy pile of goo, he threw the cigarette out the window and drove away from the hospital.
He'll be back in a few days…
And he'll do whatever it takes to take her back with him.
"No change in her condition, but the lack of deterioration is a good sign… Give her time, Mr Stokes," the doctor cleared his throat. "Like I said many times before, Ms Sidle has been through a lot. She may have spoken to you but that could mean nothing… For what she needed, you could have been anyone…"
Words had hurt him before, but that last line was the biggest blow of them all.
Nick could not understand, for a moment, how someone could trust him with a hug to avoiding him all together. He stood by her hospital window, unsure of whether he should enter. The glass had blurred his existence, like he was on a whole different universe and the window was the portal that separated his world from Sara's. He watched her thin form sitting in the corner, staring intently at a small section of the hospital's wall. Her fingers were tracing the hairline cracks on its surface, as if writing some spiritual incantation to ward off all evil.
Evil…Every now and then, he would call Warrick in the lab, giving them an update on Sara's condition in exchange for a lead in the case. He and Grissom had been working tirelessly, looking through Sara's writings on the wall, but none of them had pointed out who did this to her. The evidence never lies, but in this case, it's not speaking up. They knew it was just a matter of time before her tormentor comes back for her. Either they break the case and find out whoever did this, or it was up to Sara to tell them.
But so far…Sara had been silent…For the past day or so, Catherine and Nick had been trying to get Sara to talk to them. Taking turns, one hour at a time, to sit in her room and try. Their progress was slow, but they didn't give up. There were times when she ignored them completely, while on several occasions, she would look at them with a little hint of recognition. Tiny reactions like these prompt them not to give in, believing that she would come around in no time. But, according to the higher officials, slow progress means that nothing can be done and they are to surrender this case to the psychiatric division once her PEAP counsellor arrives.
Nothing can be done for her…all those years of getting to know Sara will vanish, taken away by the arms of men with white coats and rimed glasses.Nick traced Sara's outline onto the glass window, hoping that mimicking whatever she's doing will help him understand her more. It was his turn with her. Catherine had gone downstairs to get some coffee. He was told that her PEAP counsellor is coming in today, and he wanted to get through to her before he would lose her forever.
With his shaking hand gripping a food tray, Nick entered Sara's room…
"I don't understand. 'No man sinned'? Sara is not a religious person. What on earth could this mean?" Grissom asked, practically talking to himself.
The picture with those words was placed in the centre of the wide table, with several other evidences branching out like a messed-up family tree. On a board adjacent to the table were the doctor's reports of Sara's injuries, and other photographs that constantly reminded them that this case wasn't a dream. There were so many that some had to be placed over one another or pinned at smallest of corners, swaying pitifully. Others had fallen onto the marble floor, neglected by the CSI team, who refused to pick them up unless they had a reason to.
"We'll figure it out." Warrick began, flipping through the photographs. One fell to the floor and he bended down to pick it up.
All Grissom heard after that was a sigh. An extremely heavy sigh. He watched Warrick through glasses that sat at the tip of his nose, as the younger CSI stood up from under the table. He was staring so hard that the photo that Grissom had to ask what was wrong.
"How much pain do you have to be in to leave scratch marks like these on the walls?" Those words alone were enough to get Grissom's attention. He grabbed the photo from Warrick. Several claw-like indentations on the copper-red wall were photographed with such detail that Grissom swore he could smell the rust and blood through the picture.
Both of them stared. Grissom, at the picture, and Warrick, into empty space.
"Lots…" He finally said. With a bit of hesitation and disgust, he gave the photo back to Warrick, "Right now, I don't care about anything. We'll find him and make him pay for what he did to Sara." Waves of silence fury came over the older man like heat, and Warrick knew exactly what Grissom wanted to do right then. He knew because he felt it too, twisting and turning in his gut, ripping through.
They wanted revenge. It was that simple. They wanted to make it slow, and they wanted to make it last. But first, they have to find out who did this.
And that… wasn't so simple.
From this point on… this is the crucial stage. Everything will be dependent on her recovery. She's probably stressed out right now. The shock seemed to be a little too much, but there's no rushing or giving up. The aim here, is to get her relaxed. Her recovery has just begun…
Easier said than done.
Nick cautiously walked into the room. The blinds of the window facing the beautiful view of Nevada had been pulled down, the sunrays barely squeezing through. The table lamp glowed, but even with the light coming in from the corridor, Sara's room was darker than a janitor's closet. Her room, from the corridor window, looked like a small animal enclosure. Within its walls however, Nick felt as though he had entered a cave of some sort, with the lamp radiating a fire-orange warmth of a home forgotten a long time ago. The hospital was nice enough to provide them with a private ward, so they would be left undisturbed by the world outside, which had decided to move on without them. As he walked closer to the hunched figure, she became aware of his presence and stopped tracing the cracks, as if frozen in fear.
Fear…Ever since she woke up, Sara had chose to lie in the darkest corner, on the hard hospital floor than remain on the soft hospital bed. A small makeshift loft made up of a messy blanket pile marked the only spot she was comfortable with. But even in her comfort zone, she hardly slept, and the only time she closes her eyes long enough to be considered sleep was when the doctor comes by to sedate her.
Her eyes were red from all the crying, and they reminded him of the ones he had seen on victims during their cases. Their eyes watching, yeaning and pleading for help. He wondered how much drugs Sara had been given, both before and after her rescue.
The tray shaking in his hands shook him out of that thought. The metal spoon was making too much noise against the saucer. He imagined himself in her eyes and wondered if he looked like a massive and scary closet monster to her, or even worse…
With that thought in mind, he forced a smile upon his face.
"Hey Sara… I got you some food. You must be hungry… you have not eaten in a while." His voice sounded like a fake cheer. Nick placed the tray as close as he could to Sara, before taking one step back. Several strands of her hair flowed to the front of her face, but she made no effort to push them aside. Unmoving and still in her slouching position, her eyes shifted as if to see what it was, before staring at him suspiciously.
Nick's eyes shifted between Sara and the tray.
"Oh…the food is yours." He said, rising his hands in mock surrender. "I haven't done anything to it. I promise it's not a trick. I'm not going to take it away from you at the last second or anything. You can trust me on that. Come on… you've got to eat something."
Or else we have to feed her through a tube… the doctor's words echoed in his head, but he refuse to say it out loud. Sara doesn't need anyone to do anything to her. The last thing she needs right now is someone forcing food down her throat. He would not allow anyone to take away anything else from her. He took another step back, and turned around, knowing that he would appear less threatening if his back was facing her.
It worked.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sara, her knuckles dragging across the floor and grabbing the closest piece of bread. The soup that came along with it sat untouched, as Sara nibbled slowly on the only food product she had touched since she was admitted. There was a tremendous pressure weighting down on his chest, as part of him knew that even simple actions like eating would be painful for this strong woman. It took a lot of will for Nick to control himself from running towards the abused figure and giving her a hug—a hug that will take away all her pain and suffering.
"That's it…" Nick whispered brokenheartedly, his throat closing, his words choking him. He crouched down, a few feet away from her, down to her level and looked at her bruised face. His chest tightened painfully. He clenched his fists tightly, attempting to centre himself, before speaking.
"I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but just to let you know… you're the first person I wanted to see ever since I got here."
Sara looked at him for a fraction of a second. Her body tensed up, as she realised that he was talking to her.
"The man who took you… he can never hurt you again. I don't know what he did to you and I can't possibly understand what you're going through. But I'm going to make him pay. I promise you…"
Enough with the promises… His mind mocked. Sara slowly turned away like she was thinking the same thing. The bread in her hand didn't appeal to her anymore.
"I know that you've been through a lot. I know what its like to feel like its never going to end. I know how it's like to hate the person who did this and having to relive every memory… but you have to understand… This wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself for everything that happened to you."
Nick shook his head slightly as he corrected himself. "…For everything that is happening to you. You don't need to hide now. He can't hurt you anymore. Its over."
Initially, Nick was encouraged —in a way, ordered—not to talk about whatever happened to Sara. The doctors had made it clear—43 times— that "the human mind is a fragile thing". Apparently, to doctors, if you didn't possess a medical degree, you're an idiot, and would most likely fall into the nearest ditch unless there's a doctor to tell you that your eyes were made for sight. He had been obedient so far, but today, being the last time he would see Sara, Nick decided to give it a try.
"The man who hurt you…he can't touch you now. I won't let him. I won't allow it. Right now, I need you to try and remember. I need you to remember who you are. Your name… Can you remember your name?
No response.He hesitated, not really sure of what to say. Before he knew it, words were coming out like a gentle stream, with truth flowing out of his mouth.
"Your name is Sara Sidle. You're a Level 3 CSI working in Clark County, Nevada. You specialised in material analysis. You used to work in San Francisco, but Grissom called you to investigate the Holly Gribbs case. You remember Grissom? He's our boss…"
The room was so still and quiet that Nick could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. His collar had this unnatural heat that radiated around his neck.
"You were born and raised in California. Your birthday's on September 16… and you hate celebrating it every year because, to you, every year brings you closer to death and away from life."
Why did you have to bring up death?Nick felt like a boy trying to climb a flight of stairs 3 steps at a time, only to fall before he reached the top. He kept going, following the momentum that was pushing him down.
"Your mother's name is Laura Sidle. Your father's na… – I don't know your father's name—but when you were young… your mother killed your father in self-defence. You were dumped into the foster care system. You never really got over it, but you've found ways…"
As Nick spoke about the past, Sara became upset when she heard how her life was and how her life turned out to be. Renewed tears started to form in her eyes.
"I know this because you told me… you told me all these things about you because I told you I was afraid. I was afraid after my kidnapping… and you helped me…you didn't even ask anyone for help and yet you helped everyone you meet. That's you. That's you Sara Sidle. That's who you are."
'So let me help you… just talk to me. Please… just talk. Why won't you talk to me?' His mind screamed in his skull like a panicked bird fighting to get out of its cage. He wasn't blaming Sara though… he was blaming himself."2 years ago, we were attacked by an unknown man… in an alleyway close to where we worked. We were attacked… but only you were taken. We don't know why… but you had been missing for 2 years Sara…"
The heart monitor beeped, and he could tell that she was still mad with fright, her heart pounding frantically in her chest. He pulled back slowly, giving her space before continuing.
"There were times when… we felt that we should have given up. I can honestly say that there were times we have accepted the fact that you were gone for good. But then… a thought of you… a thought of you telling us a joke or coming back to work made us hope again. We curse ourselves for thinking this way… We had no excuse…"
She turned away from him and leaned her forehead against the wall's surface. Her body shook as she tried to suppress her sobs, her bony fingers barely covering her face. Nick could not help but feel a little jealous of the wall, as Sara would rather cry on its cold, hard surface than his warm, comforting shoulder. He decided to try a different approach.
"When I was taken, placed in a glass box and left for dead, I kept thinking to myself, 'Nick…any minute now, the guys will solve the case and come get you. The next minute from now, you –Nick Stokes – will be rescued.'"
His voice sounded like a commercial with a Texan cowboy telling kids not to play with guns, but it slowly became serious. "…And then… that minute will go by, and then the next and the next… and before you know it, hours had passed… hours had passed, and you're still where you are."
He looked up as he thought about his own nightmarish experience. The fluid in her IV bag dripped into her tube like tears. Somewhere in the room, a piece of bread laid forgotten on the floor.
"I understand the disappointment. It must have been so hard for you to think that… tomorrow will be your day of rescue, only to wake up… still in hell. At first, you'll ask yourself, 'what have you done to deserve this'. For the longest time, you were optimistic that everything will be okay… but it didn't, did it? … In fact, it got worse … Days will pass… weeks even, and nothing had changed. Finally, you became convince that … no one's coming… no one's coming to get you… you have been forgotten…"
His eyes started to hurt.
"That's why you wanted me to let you die. When I came to get you, you wanted to die because, to be forgotten was worse than a torture of a thousand cuts… worse than what you have been through…"
Nick swallowed hard and felt his own hands shaking.
"You were not forgotten. I… We thought about you everyday… And I could only hope… hope that you thought about us too. Please…please tell me that you haven't forgotten us… forgotten me. I could only hope…"
He inched closer and placed his hand on the small of her back. He could feel the bones, the scars, and the xylophone-shape of her spine. She was breathing so hard it was like she was trying to breathe through the cracks on the walls.
"I know how it's like to come out of this, feeling like you have nothing. Right now, you may feel lonely and apprehensive about everything, but I'll always be by your side. I will always protect you no matter what. So please, let me trust my last hope with you…"
His voice was close to a whisper. He slowly took her hand and she made no attempt to push him away. He held it gently and carefully opened her clenched fist. His hand was warm and soft. His thumb brushed her fingers as she relaxed, opening her hand.
"I'll make him pay for what he did to you…"Her tears fell, and she could feel the coldness of the wall on her bare cheek. She began to cry convulsively, her body aching. Her wounds felt like tearing, her stitches felt like popping. Her mind was still overwhelmed by the whole situation. She wept. But not because of the pain or confusion…
It was because he understood…Slowly, she pushed herself off the wall and into his arms. Her head leaning against his chest as she cried herself out. Nick's arm around her tightened, but he didn't interrupt her. She needed this. She had to let it out…
He kept his promise…By now, his face was wet with tears, but he didn't make a sound. He didn't want her to know that he was crying too. Crying for her…
He kept his promise to her. He kept his promise to the team. Even though it was just a small part of her… Nick brought Sara home.
As Nick held Sara in his arms, the man responsible for all of her sufferings stood outside her window, watching them. The glass between them had made him practically invisible from the inside. He clenched his fist. Well hidden in his pockets were 2 syringes filled with the strongest tranquillisers he could find.
She belongs to him…With anger placing murder in his heart, he walked away from the hospital window.
He'll be back in a few hours…
And he'll do whatever it takes to take her back with him…
Even if it means getting rid of anyone who gets in his way…
TBCI missed you all... I know I have this habit of apologising for late updates, but I'm really sorry. As an apology, I wrote this long chapter for you all. I really hope you'll like it.
-cough- a review would be nice –cough-
"That's why you wanted me to let you die." -- For the confused and lost, Remember chapter 11 and 12?
This chapter goes out to anyone who has ever felt forgotten or alone. I may not know who you are or what you're going through… but I mean it when I say, 'I love you all'. Hugs.