Sorry for the extremely long wait in updating. It's been hard in between both jobs and real life to do much writing. I am getting a little bit of a break coming up, so I'm hoping to be writing more. The next chapter has already been started, and I'm hoping to have it up much sooner than this one was. Thank you to everyone for being so patient, and for all of those still reading this.
I love feedback, so don't be shy; it helps me to become a better writer :)
Chapter Six: What You Don't Know
It wasn't supposed to be like this. When Greg left the crime lab, he had nothing more planned than a hot shower, followed by a date with his pillow. He hadn't expected to arrive at his apartment complex to find it swarming with cops, CSI's and none other than Ecklie, the leader of the days himself.
The commotion was taking place on the far side of the building; Greg knew that he could, and should avoid the hectic scene as much as possible. But curiosity had the better of him. And it wasn't long before Ecklie had him turned around and headed back into work; yet this time for an entirely different matter.
It hadn't taken Greg long to pick Sara up. She had been awake, sitting in the old worn easy chair that had been passed down through his family. Sara had always joked about getting rid of it, but Greg had never taken any of her threats seriously. After all, it was the one place he could always find her whenever she couldn't sleep. Except for this time there was no need to ask what was keeping her up. She was already dressed, pausing long enough to slip on her shoes, and within minutes they found themselves back on the road.
They sat quietly now, side by side in the waiting room, just past the receptionist office. Brass had offered for them to stay in the break room, but neither had accepted. Sara hadn't said a word, and Greg's focus was on nothing other than his girlfriend, and the obvious worry that clung to her like a heavy cloud filled with rain. She had barely even looked at him, and her eyes were dim, her gaze withdrawn, and it was all Greg could do to keep from pulling her into a hug, afraid that if he did, he just might break her.
He could only wonder, only imagine what could possibly be going through her head. After all he had promised her that everything was fine. They lived in a safe enough place, right? No one would have tried to break in…there were plenty of other apartments, ones more readily accessible than their own. Not only that, but there were others that flaunted and gabbed about their so-called priceless possessions; flat screen TVs, gaming systems, the latest surround systems. Any thief would have been after that without a doubt. What it came down to was the simple fact that they had nothing worth stealing.
Unless they had a certain something someone wanted. Greg's mind unwillingly drifted to what Randolph had told him earlier. Randolph had seemed almost certain that they would be safe, but even so it could be possible that Tom still held a grudge against them. Save for a fact he still had till Friday before his release. Greg closed his eyes, letting out a bitter sigh. That of course crossed that idea off the list.
He could feel Sara grip his hand, and Greg opened his eyes to meet her worried stare. "What is it?" she asked breathlessly.
For a brief moment he started to answer her, then forced himself to stop, shaking his head instead. He knew Sara deserved to know about Tom. Even if Greg was one who had been hurt the most in the end, the man still had harmed Sara, had still threatened her. He was just as much involved in her past as he was in Greg's. But Greg also knew that now wasn't the best time to talk about it.
She ran the back of her hand along his face, turning so her fingertips grazed his chin. "What's wrong?"
Her voice was strained, and he couldn't tell if it was due to her worry, or just plain exhaustion, or both perhaps, but he forced a smile, shaking his head. Later….he would tell her later.
"Just thinking," he whispered, reaching up to meet her wandering hand. "Just thinking."
"I've been thinking too," Sara responded, her eyes flicking back towards the door. She had waited until the hallway emptied one more before turning back towards Greg. "I can't believe that I was so worried about the possibility someone was in our place…"
"I was worried too," Greg cut her off, not wanting her to feel as though she had been overreacting. If it had been him, Greg more in likely would have phoned Brass straight off. "It's a violation of privacy. There's no reason you shouldn't feel worried."
"A woman's in the hospital Greg," she shook her head. "Our neighbor…someone who lives just on the other side of the complex was attacked…her entire place ransacked. We have no right to feel…what you said…violated. Nothing happened to us…they didn't even take anything from our apartment."
"That doesn't matter," Greg counted quickly. "What happened to Jessie was horrible, you're right about that. What they did to her place, the things they took; that only shows how much more heartless they are. Don't blame yourself for being upset, or worried, or scared even. That is still your right."
"They're saying she might not make it," Sara whispered, obvious now that she hadn't been listening. There were tears forming in her eyes and it worried Greg. Worried him because he knew it took more than just this to upset her. Worried him because if she broke down now…he wouldn't be able to carry her weight.
He hated to admit it; he was scared. Terrified; someone had taken a knife to the young woman; only a few years younger than Sara herself. Jessie had lived alone, and like Sara, had been fairly independent. The attack had nearly killed her, and even now the young woman was fighting for her life. Still…the only thing Greg could think over and over was that it had been her…and not Sara. And he hated himself for it.
He needed Sara to tell him he was wrong. He needed to her hear say that it would be okay. In his mind he knew this much, but he needed to hear it in her own words. Even if he didn't hear it right now that was all right. He could wait…but Greg knew that if she started crying now, then they would only drown in their tears.
His finger rested on her chin, and he tilted her face towards his, their lips locking tentatively. He could feel her pull away at first, but just as he was letting her go she returned, and he felt himself melt into her warm embrace. They broke apart after only a few mere seconds, Sara moving to rest her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Greg rubbed her back, holding her firmly in his grasp as they waited. He was hoping that they statements would already be taken by now. Ecklie and his team were going to dust and photograph their apartment while they waited, and there was no doubt in Greg's mind that they would be finished by now. The team at the very least; it would surprise Greg if Ecklie had stayed around to snoop a little.
He closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. Normally it would have bothered him, but for some reason Greg couldn't help feel but a little smug. The man, after all, had been doing his best to find something to oust either him or Sara for the last several years. Now he had more than a perfect opportunity to find a reason, but Greg knew they had nothing to hide.
Greg didn't even bother to glance up when Brass appeared in the doorway. He knew that the questions were standard procedure in a case like this. No one would think of them as suspects, or even accomplices, but they had still been connected. They still knew the victim, and even more so, there place had been broken in to. It wasn't for certain, but coincidence was all too high.
It wasn't until Brass touched his shoulder that Sara pulled away, and the detective nodded to the both of them, taking a seat across from them. There was a grim look on his face, and he tried with little success to wash it away with a smile. "We'll make this short and sweet," he told them both, pulling the tape recorder from his pocket.
Greg glanced at Sara who nodded; her eyes now clear, with no traces of worry etching her face. He could only smile, grateful to see the strong-willed woman he knew sitting next to him now. Even still her fingers sought out his hand, and he clasped it gently, nodding towards Brass as well.
With a click of the button, the questions began.
"You know," Greg muttered quietly, "we can stay somewhere else."
"This is fine," Sara answered back, her voice steady and unmatched. The earlier shakiness had worn off and Greg wasn't sure if it was because she was indeed doing better, or just wanting to portray it that way. He longed to ask her, longed to know for sure, but at the same time he didn't want to start a fight. Instead he just listened, not ready to offer up an argument. If Sara felt comfortable with staying here, then so did he.
Here being their own apartment. The place was as different as night and day; earlier it had been a living nightmare, jammed with so many people you couldn't even move. Now it was just empty. Remnants of the Crime Scene tape fluttered in the wind just off to the side of the young woman's apartment. The scene for now had been released, as had their place.
He waited for a moment before turning off the car, watching Sara who was glancing out the window uneasily, her eyes scanning the area as if she were expecting someone to show up. Greg cleared his throat, noting the way she flinched at the minute sound. "Are you sure you don't want to stay somewhere else? I know a good motel a few blocks away."
"We're not paying anything to stay in a cheesy dumpsite when we have a perfectly good, clean bed right here," Sara snapped angrily, "Nothing's going to happen, we're fine."
He held out his hands shrugging, offering up a truce. Greg knew that Sara was tense, and exhausted. Two deadly combinations at the moment. Sara hadn't much more to add to her last statement, and instead climbed out of the car, slamming the door with added effect. Greg followed at a much quieter and slower pace, giving her both the room as well as the time to blow off some much needed steam.
Their place was just as untouched as it had been the last time they set foot in it. Not exactly clean, but neither was it overly dirty. Somewhere along the line they had called a truce; Sara kept up with living and bed room, as well as the laundry, while Greg's responsibility covered the kitchen and bathroom. Between their hours, and motivation, they were able to keep the small place looking halfway decent. Of course that never meant they always had clean dishes or clothes.
Greg dropped his keys on the counter, moving to the fridge. There was some leftover pizza in there that he knew would still be good, and he was already pulling it out as well as a bottle of water. "How many do you want?"
"I'm not hungry," came her blatant reply, Sara pulling a hefty forensics book from the shelf. She sat down in the corner, in the same chair Greg had found her in earlier, and began rifling through the pages.
"You haven't eaten today," he reminded her, biting into one the slices, not bothering to even warm it up. "How many?"
"What part of 'I'm not hungry' don't you understand?"
"The same part of 'you haven't eaten' that you don't seem understand," Greg shot back, answering in between mouthfuls. "I don't know if you're on some sort of health craze or what, but you need to start eating again. I'm not going to let you waste away into nothing. Besides, this is this vegetarian primo thing you wanted. If I have to eat, then so do you."
"I just don't feel that great right now Greg," Sara said with a sigh, closing the book. "I think I might be coming down with something. Stomach flu's going around you know."
"If you wont eat then go get some sleep then," he prodded, finishing the slice he had. "And don't even try to tell me you're not tired either."
She made a face at him, holding herself back from making a more obscene gesture; he was right after all, and she knew it. Scowling she dropped the book on the coffee table, her expression softening as she approached him. "I am tired," she admitted softly, fingers lightly tracing his arm. She moved in to kiss him, soft in gentle, a striking comparison to her recent mood. "And I'm sorry, just because I am doesn't give me the right to be a bitch to you."
"You never are," Greg smiled, kissing her back. He lingered here for a moment longer, before pulling away. "Let's just say it's a fair trade for all the stress I've put you through."
"Really?" Sara smiled, "Well, I wouldn't trade any of it for anything in this world. There's a reason why I love you Greg…and sadly it has nothing to do with your charm, or your foul taste in music and clothes."
"I do not have foul taste in music or clothes," he defended himself, arms wrapped around her neck. She had her own around his waist, kissing his jaw before resting her head on his shoulder.
"That all depends on whose viewpoint you look at it from. It just so happens that my viewpoint is the right one."
"Since when did we decide that?" Greg asked, curious now. He could feel her laugh, and he pulled her closer, holding her tight. "We'll call it a fair trade," he continued softly. "Because I love you too, Sara."
TBC