AN: You guys are beyond amazing...thanks for the continued sharing of your thoughts/theories! So happy you guys are willing to take the time to review. Means a lot.
Hope you are all doing well and your weeks are starting off on a good note.
Take care and enjoy.
CHAPTER 11
CATHERINE POV
Today my luck ran out. After successfully avoiding Sara for the better part of this week, I finally have to face her.
This shift, we have a case together.
Our first case since we broke up.
Looking down at the assignment slip, as if staring at it long enough will make the words change, I eventually sigh.
"Nick, where are you and Greg at on the 419 at WLVU?" I ask, keeping my gaze away from the brunette standing silently by the sink.
"I'm about to head back out to the scene. Greg's already at the college interviewing some more of the teachers," he answers, swallowing the coffee in his hand. "Hopefully we'll get lucky and find someone who saw something, otherwise we're gonna be in a rough spot."
Nodding, I let out a breath.
"Sounds good, keep me updated."
"Of course," he offers, sending Sara and I an oblivious smile before tossing his cup in the trash and heading out the door.
Sara doesn't comment, doesn't move, keeping her gaze averted to let me have control of the situation.
Just like she has every day so far.
I wish today I could simply tell her to continue working on her cases or send her out solo like I have every other morning since we broke up.
With another sigh, I shake my head.
"We have a scene."
Looking up in surprise, Sara glances briefly at me, taking in my words.
Then, she averts her gaze again, turning to rinse her mug in the sink.
"Okay."
Watching her back, I close my eyes briefly before she turns back around.
When she does, our eyes finally meet, and it's all I can do to keep myself together.
"Meet you in the car."
Without another word to her, I leave the room.
Looking over towards Sara as she drives, I can't get over how suffocating it feels to be in the same car with her.
In addition to our morning assignments, I had caught glimpses of her here and there in the lab the last couple work days, passing her in the hall or looking into a lab to find her at work at a layout table.
In those moments it was hard, trying to keep my eyes averted, trying to keep my heart from hammering out of my chest just from looking at her.
Now, alone with her in such a small, enclosed space for a significant period of time, I feel downright nervous.
Sara hasn't said anything since we got in the car, but despite the sunglasses masking her expression, I can tell that she feels the same tension that is making it hard for me to breathe.
Steeling myself, I allow myself to truly look her over for the first time since we broke up. Allow my eyes to remain on her for more than a passing glance.
As my gaze travels the length of her body, I find it strange to think that this is the woman I was so intimately involved with not so long ago.
In many ways, she looks exactly the same. But, in others, she is so very different.
She's lost weight, for one thing.
She was too thin before all this happened, but now she is downright gaunt.
There is also a guardedness to her posture, a barricade up around her that I haven't seen since the time before we were together.
She's adopted a bit of the old Sara back into herself, the Sara that had hardened herself against a world set to betray her at any moment, a world that had anything but her best interests at heart.
Which, I now find ironic, because in my world, she has embodied the role of the betrayer, not the betrayed.
In my world, she's the Judas.
As my eyes return to her face, her stark and hollowed features, part of me feels relieved to learn that our separation appears to have been just as hard on her as it has on me.
"Take the next left," I instruct, hating the way I put so much effort into calculating my tone to convey the perfect amount of disregard with the perfect amount of professionalism.
My dark companion doesn't say anything, silently directing the Tahoe across traffic according to my directions.
As I reassess the situation after a few more miles together, I realize that, while the situation is tense, it is also strangely cathartic.
After avoiding each other for so long and trying to get assigned with every other CSI possible, it is somewhat nice to finally be forced to get our first case together since our break up over with.
After all, we are both professionals who are going to have to work with each other at some point.
And work with each other civilly.
"Catherine?"
Sara's gentle prompt pulls me from my thoughts and I realize that we are approaching another fork in this very long desert road.
"Go to the right."
Again, Sara directs the car without a word. She is uneasy, but at the same time she still has the same calm and collected demeanor that is so uniquely her.
"It's going to be the third house from the end."
"Okay."
Sara pulls the car over to a stop in front of the specified house and cuts the engine. As she reaches out to open her door, I stop her motions with a hand on her arm.
Startled by the unexpected contact, she pulls away.
"Sorry," she says an awkward moment later, upset with herself for her involuntary reaction to my touch.
"It's alright," I tell her.
"Look, Sara," I state after a moment, knowing I have to say something to her.
That I cannot let this awkward silence continue to dictate our every interaction, at least not at a crime scene where we owe it to the victim to put our personal lives aside for the sake of the case.
I am the superior in this situation, and something needs to be said.
"I don't want things to be so uncomfortable between us," I state honestly. "We can't do our jobs if we're tiptoeing around each other afraid to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing."
Nodding, Sara's face is unreadable.
"Agreed."
I sigh, knowing there is still a lot I haven't made up my mind about regarding Sara. But, there is one thing of which I am certain.
"I don't hate you, Sara," I tell her honestly, letting out a sigh. "As much as I've tried to, I don't and I don't think I ever will. I loved you too much for that. I'm hurt. I'm angry. But what happened is over and done with and I just want to move on. And I certainly don't want to let what happened between us personally affect us professionally."
Sara turns away, her eyes closing in what almost appears to be pain.
Turning back to me after a moment, she offers me her best attempt at a casual nod.
"Okay."
Realizing that I am talking to Sara Sidle and am likely not to get more of a response than what I have already gotten, I send her a forced smile of my own.
"Okay."
Stepping out of the car, I truly hope that somehow Sara and I can move on from all of this. That I can move on from this deep sense of loss that threatens to consume me merely by sitting next to her in a goddamn car.
SARA POV
Loved.
She said she 'loved' me.
Past tense.
As in 'loved', but no longer 'loves' me.
I will love Catherine Willows until the day that I die.
Present tense.
But then again, Catherine didn't cheat on me. Perhaps infidelity has a way of dampening one's allure.
I just can't get the word 'loved' out of my head. All day working at that scene, in the car ride home, it just kept repeating over and over and over and over and over.
I don't think she even realized that she said it or that my world as I knew it came crashing to a halt the moment that it left her lips.
I know it's not fair for me to feel so grieved at the fact that she no longer loves me. I mean, after all, what did I expect after what I did?
But it still hurts.
Especially because I feel like no matter what Catherine could ever do to me, part of me would always still love her.
Grabbing the bottle of tequila off the edge of the fire pit, I finish off what is left.
Before I am even conscious of what I am doing, I hear the bottle shatter against the nearest rock, shards of glass skittering through the air before falling to the yard below.
Leaning forward, I run a hand through my hair, grabbing the tangled tresses in a fist.
"Fuck it all to hell," I mutter, swallowing against the tightness in my throat.
Reaching over, I grab an unopened bottle from the chair next to me, not even looking at the label before pulling off the cap.
NANCY POV
Glancing around me, I don't see Sara anywhere. Trying the front door, I find it locked, and no one answers when I knock.
Letting out a breath, I run my fingers through my hair, essentially at a loss for what to do.
Sara's car is in the drive, so there aren't really many places she could be.
Looking to my left, I catch sight of the trail leading through the back of the neighborhood. Deciding it's as good a place to start as any, I begin walking, wishing I had thought to bring some water.
Sun blazing down on my shoulders as it peaks above the mountains, I only wish the bright rays would do something to lift the chill in the air.
Shielding my eyes from the harsh glare of the early morning light, I do a double take when I spot a figure ahead after about a mile.
To be honest, I didn't really expect to find Sara at all, let alone on my first try.
Reaching what appears to be an old train trestle, I carefully approach the brunette sitting and staring at the drop below.
"Sara?" I question cautiously, not wanting to startle her when she is sitting atop the railing as she is.
Turning slightly, Sara casts a glance over her shoulder before turning back around.
"What are you doing here?" she questions in a tone that's nearly impossible to interpret.
"I felt bad about how we left things the other day," I tell her honestly.
"Why?"
Furrowing my brows, I come to stand against the rail, careful to give her her space.
"Because if you need help, approaching you like I did isn't going to help anyone in the least."
Sara shakes her head.
"No, Nancy, you're here because you haven't been able to figure anything more out about what happened that night, and so now you need another go at it."
Finally turning around, Sara drops from the railing to stand before me.
Her gaze is almost as hard as her tone.
"Sara?" I question, her out of character behavior catching me off guard.
The brunette only shakes her head, moving to step around me and walk away.
Reaching out, I grab her arm to stop her.
The moment I make contact, Sara spins on her heels.
"Don't," she nearly growls at me, ripping her arm from my hand.
Raising my hands in surrender, I feel my eyes widen.
"I'm sorry…" I trail off, at an absolute loss for what to do.
Meeting her eyes, I furrow my own. Watching silently, I see her take in a deep breath before turning somewhat unsteadily back around to walk back toward the house.
"Sara, wait," I call, stepping up alongside her.
"Why?" she questions again, turning to face me. "I think we've both said everything we have to say to one another, Nancy."
"So that's it?" I ask her in disbelief. "You just turn your back on me, on Catherine?"
Watching as her jaw clenches, I cross my arms over my chest.
"I thought you loved her, Sara. I thought you cared about her a-"
Before I have a chance to finish my statement, Sara steps dangerously close to me.
"Fuck you, Nancy," she grinds out, cutting me off. "Don't you dare come here and say more shit like that to me like last time."
Eyes furrowing in confusion, I shake my head. "I'm just being truthful…"
Sara's teeth clench together, and I can tell she is working hard to keep herself restrained.
"Go home, Nancy."
Narrowing my eyes, I set my own jaw.
"No, I'm not going to give up like you are."
Shaking her head darkly, Sara starts to turn away again.
"Yeah, fine Sara," I call out. "Just walk away from this. From me. From her. Give up on the woman who you promised you would love forever w-"
Spinning around, Sara's finger points dangerously close to my chest.
"I'm not the one who gave up!" she yells, finally snapping as her voice nearly breaks with strain. "I'm not the one who stopped loving her."
Eyes widening at her reaction, I slowly shake my head in confusion.
"Sara…" I trail off, not knowing what to say, what to do.
"She told me to stay out of her life," Sara gets out. "She told me she wants to move on."
"Sara," I start again. "She's upset. Of course she-"
"She told me she wished she never met me," she continues, cutting off my statement.
Clenching her fists, she takes in a jagged breath.
"She said she 'loved' me, Nancy. Loved."
With that final admission, I find my heart clenching tightly in my chest, the breath literally pressed out of me.
I don't know what to say.
Seeing my expression, Sara shakes her head.
"So no, Nancy. Don't you dare come here and keep saying shit like that to me. Like I've turned my back on her."
Her focus shifting, Sara reaches out to steady herself.
"I cheated on her, for heaven's sake. So when she tells me that she wants me out of her life, when she says she wants to move on from what we had together, what the fuck am I supposed to do?" she questions sincerely, her voice hoarse.
"It's her decision where we all go from here," she gets out. "Not mine, not yours."
With one final glance, Sara shakes her head.
"And I think she's made her decision quite clear."
Stepping away, Sara starts unsteadily down the path, her limp almost the worst I have ever seen it.
Catching up with her easily, I shadow her movements for a few yards before throwing caution aside and taking hold of her shoulder.
Stiffening under my touch, she doesn't snap at me this time, instead stopping and turning her dark gaze away from me.
Reaching out, I take hold of her jaw with my free hand and force her eyes to mine.
Assessing her silently for a moment, I finally let out a breath.
"You've been drinking, Sara."
Jaw tensing under my fingers, Sara doesn't look away.
"You've been drinking," I repeat in a defeated whisper, watching her eyes that cannot quite focus properly.
I should have known from the first moment Sara raised her voice with me, something she would almost never do sober.
I'm worried for her, concerned regarding the fact that she's drinking enough during the night that she still isn't sober come morning. That she's drinking alone. That she's sitting on top of fucking bridges after she gets drunk.
All of the above.
"Come on," I tell her quietly. "Let's get you home."
Sara takes in a steadying breath, her eyes leaving mine to look somewhere off to my left.
Removing my hold from her jaw, I use both hands to hold her by the arm instead, not trusting her unsteady legs.
Sara is silent for a moment or two, no doubt debating the best way to handle this.
At last, Sara seems to decide the best way to deal with the current situation is to not deal with it at all.
Allowing me to keep a grip on her, we walk slowly back towards the house. Neither one of us says anything, too lost in our own heads for words.
When we reach her house, Sara sets herself down on her porch steps, her head bowing and her dark features cast in shadows.
Sitting next to her, I let out a breath.
"I'm sorry, Sara."
She doesn't say anything for awhile, the wind the only sound around us.
Finally, she shakes her head with a tense shrug.
"Whatever. Now you know."
AN: Thanks for reading.
