AN: Sorry for the delay. Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks again to the reviewers – this is for you.
Take care and enjoy.
CHAPTER 34
CATHERINE POV
Stepping up next to me, Sara's silent, resting her arms along the porch railing and looking out towards the setting sun.
We remain this way for quite awhile, neither one of us finding it within ourselves to break the quiet of the evening. All during dinner we exchanged few words, both of us lost in thoughts not ready to be shared.
Angling her body slightly towards me, I feel Sara's eyes look me over, feel her gaze assessing me.
Eventually, she reaches over with her left hand, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
"I'm here if you need me," she tells me quietly, not prying, simply supporting.
Turning to head back inside, I reach out and grab her hand before she's out of reach, the action causing her to stop and face me.
"I need to share something with you…but I don't know how to say it…" I trail off in defeat, barely able to meet her eyes.
Her eyes which hold so much gentle concern, so much kindness.
How can I bring yet another dark turn of events into this person's life? Hasn't she already been through enough?
"What happened?" Sara questions, her voice heavy with worry.
My heart clenches, knowing it's not me she needs to be worried about. That the truth I have to share is a sharp knife aimed in her direction, not mine.
"Sara, I…"
Again, I trail off, not knowing how in the world I'm supposed to do this.
"Catherine," she calls softly, lacing her fingers through mine. "Just tell me."
Taking a slow breath in, I steady myself. She deserves an answer, and she deserves a strong, steady person to stand by her and give her that answer.
"They're appealing some of your cases," I confess, forcing my voice to remain strong.
Eyes watching mine, Sara remains still, her mind no doubt taking in the words her ears just heard.
"Okay," she eventually gets out, voice strained but steady.
Keeping my grip on her hand firm, I watch her continue to try to process what she's been told.
"How many?" she whispers.
"Eleven so far."
Swallowing, Sara nods, working desperately to remain neutral.
"Rape cases?"
"Yes," I answer honestly. "A few parental abuse, but mostly rapes."
Nodding slowly, Sara's eyes finally lose their inner battle and look away from my own.
When she tries to pull her hand back, I tighten my hold.
"Stop," I tell her, shaking my head and reaching out to grip her belt with my other hand. "Don't do this."
"Do what?" she questions, swallowing tightly as I feel her breaths speed up beneath my fingers.
"Pull away from me," I answer. "Keep putting up walls."
Eyes flashing back to mine, Sara shakes her head tensely.
"What do you want me to do then, Catherine?" she questions.
When I don't answer, she renews her efforts to separate herself from me.
Trying to use her only free hand, I watch her clench her teeth as she attempts to pull my hand from her hip with her own injured one.
"Stop," I demand again, hating to see her hurt herself. "Stop, Sara."
"Let go," she warns, her tone dark.
"Stop doing this," I plead. "You can't keep shutting everyone out, pretending like you're fine."
"Please let go of me," she tries again, jaw clenched tightly.
"You can't keep turning to drugs and alcohol instead of the people in your life that care about you," I tell her sternly. "Can't keep-"
Before I can finish, Sara pushes against me harshly, wrenching her body free of my grasp.
Stumbling back, she grabs the porch rail to steady herself, body shaky.
"Sara," I whisper sadly, shaking my head but not making a move towards her. "Please let me help you."
"I'm fine," she counters. "I'm not the one who needs help."
"Sara…"
"No," she forces out. "Help the ones who need it."
Swallowing, she clenches her jaw.
"Help all those victims, Catherine, all those families who're going to watch their rapists and abusers go free."
She fixes me with a gaze so dark that I barely recognize the warm and gentle woman that I know her to be.
"Help all the women who're going to become their future victims."
Her features are pallid, stark.
"Help them, Catherine."
Closing my eyes briefly, I try to control my breathing, try to remain steady.
"I almost chose not to be a CSI because of this," she admits darkly, words reaching my ears. "I wasn't an idiot, I knew this could happen if I went into this career with a past like mine. But I was fucking selfish enough to do it anyway, and now, all those innocent people are going to have to pay the price."
When I open them again, I step towards Sara, reaching out for her.
"Honey, t-"
My words are cut short when she jerks away from me.
"Don't."
Eyes wide at her reaction, I put my hands up in a position of surrender, heart hammering in my chest as I find myself beyond anxious or concerned.
Seeing my expression, Sara swallows, a trembling hand raising to rub her temples.
"I'm sorry," she gets out, dark eyes trying to find the will to stay on mine.
Shaking her head, she backs away from me, reaching into her pocket.
"I need to go," she whispers into the night, pulling out her keys. "I can't be here right now…like this."
Eyes shifting, she turns to make her way down the steps towards her car.
"Sara, please," I nearly beg, words reaching her through the still night air.
"I'm sorry."
Without another word, she enters into her car, taillights soon disappearing into the distance.
NANCY POV
"Slow down," I call into the phone, already understanding enough of what Catherine's trying to tell me to grab my keys and half run towards my car.
"God only knows where she is, what she's doing to herself…"
"Catherine," I call, turning on the engine and tossing my work bag in the back as I pull out of the hospital parking lot. "What aren't you telling me?"
There's a pause, and I know my hunch was correct. Catherine called me in a panic, explaining what happened at work and, more troubling, what happened when she told Sara about it.
But, under her words was a distinct current of fear that extended beyond concern.
"She's drinking again," she breathes out into the phone, the confession not what I was expecting to hear.
Certainly not what I was hoping to hear.
"What kind of drinking?"
"The kind where I found her downing a whole bottle of vodka by herself at three in the morning," she tells me. "The kind where she hid the bottle back in the cupboard when she was done."
"Shit," I mutter, trying to pay attention to traffic as I weave my Civic from one lane to the next.
"Nancy," she all but whispers into the phone. "She has her gun."
My heart slams in my chest.
"It'll be okay," I promise, hoping in the end it doesn't prove to be an empty one. "It'll be okay."
Tires kicking up dust, I skid to a stop, inwardly rejoicing that I finally found Sara's car. Inwardly cursing that it took me two hours to do so.
Jumping out of the driver's seat, I glance around me, squinting into the darkness to try to figure out which way Sara would've gone.
Deciding to head towards the ravine we've previously sat at, I take off at a jog.
Once I get closer, the sound of glass breaking draws my gait to a walk.
Soon, Sara comes into view, the scene illuminated by the light of a nearly full moon.
And, what I see, draws me from a walk to a full stop.
Standing there along the edge, Sara is motionless, a nearly full bottle of alcohol in her right hand.
What has my attention, though, is her service weapon held tightly in her left.
Taking a couple steadying breaths, I swallow the panic the site stirs up from within me.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I send a text to Catherine, letting her know where we are and kindly suggesting that she get here as quickly as she can.
Sending up a silent prayer to anyone listening, I take a cautious step forward, noting how close Sara's standing to the edge.
"Sara?" I call out gently.
Immediately, Sara whirls around, gun pointed directly between my eyes.
Hands raising, I stay where I'm at.
"Sara," I try again, noticing the slight sway to her stance, knowing I need to get her away from the edge before she loses her footing.
Seeming to realize who I am, Sara's brows furrow slightly, but she promptly lowers her gun back to her side.
"You shouldn't be here," she tells me, voice hoarse and rough.
Or, at least that's what I think she said, her words not only strained, but heavily slurred.
"Neither should you," I tell her.
Stepping slightly closer, Sara matches me and moves further back.
"Christ," I get out. "Stay put, Sara. You're inches from the edge."
"Don't do this," she warns. "I'm here to be alone."
"Yeah?" I question. "To do what, exactly?"
Chancing a small step closer, Sara's gun is instantly drawn back up to my face.
"I mean it, Nancy."
Holding my hands up for the second time tonight, I take a breath, knowing deep down that Sara would never hurt me, but hating to have a loaded gun pointed at my head all the same.
Especially when the person holding the gun is more than a few sheets to the wind.
Our silent standoff continues until Sara eventually lowers her weapon. Eyes remaining fixed on me, she raises the bottle to her mouth, amber liquid nearly gone by the time she lowers it back down.
Glancing behind her, I note multiple bottles shattered along the ground, giving me confirmation that this isn't anywhere near Sara's first for the night.
"What are you doing here, Sara?" I ask her quietly, eyes trying to adjust to seeing my best friend in such a state of darkness.
The fact that she's here, the fact that she's drinking, the fact that she's standing at the edge of a ravine with a loaded gun.
Shaking her head, Sara lets out a breath before finishing the rest of the alcohol.
"I need you to go home," she tells me, her voice almost saddened in its tone. "You can't be here for this."
"For what?" I ask sternly, both terrified and desperate for her to say the words aloud.
Words I think somewhere deep down she needs to admit to, but words that I dread hearing this friend that I love say.
"Go be with Catherine," she tells me, swallowing tightly, her eyes finally leaving mine. "She's going to need you."
"I'm not leaving you," I tell her, shaking my head firmly. "Not like this."
Chancing a step closer, I move within a couple meters of her before stopping, not trying to push my luck.
"I'm not leaving," I repeat to her. "I love you, Sara, and I-"
Immediately, her dark gaze shifts back up to mine.
"Don't."
"What?" I question. "Don't tell you I lov-"
"Don't!" she gets out. "Stop saying that shit to me!"
I shake my head, my heart breaking for the brunette trying so desperately to push everyone in her life away from her.
Trying to distance herself from the love and respect she still deep inside feels she doesn't deserve.
"It's the truth," I tell her simply, refusing to back down.
Sara clenches her jaw, grip tightening on her gun.
"We're not family, Nancy," she says darkly. "Stop acting like I'm some honorary Willows or Flynn."
Her eyes are smoldering as they remain fixed on mine.
"I'm a Sidle."
My heart clenches at her words, at the struggle she is obviously fighting with herself, a struggle I think she's been fighting ever since she was a child, and now again with everything that happened with Liam.
"Yes you are," I agree. "You're Sara Sidle, the woman that my sister loves more than anything on this planet. The woman who saved my life. The woman who I consider my best friend. The woman-"
My words are cut off by the sound of glass shattering as Sara angrily heaves the bottle against a rock behind her.
"Fuck you, Nancy," she gets out, words slurring almost to the point where I can't understand them.
Her stance wavers as she turns back around to face me.
Cringing, I note the awkward way she's holding her right arm.
"I don't n-"
Her words are cut off as her eyes start to lose their focus, her body swaying dangerously.
Moving cautiously but purposefully towards her, I get myself within reach of her immediately.
"Back off, N-" she tries to get out, her words again cut short as she clenches her eyes shut in what almost appears to be pain.
Not missing the opportunity, I step forward and encircle her tightly in my arms.
Feeling her initial struggles against me, I work to keep us both out of the trajectory of her gun.
Soon enough, Sara's struggles weaken, her body growing limp in my arms.
"I…never wan…wanted…"
"Shh," I whisper into her hair, holding her firmly against me as her legs completely give out. "Relax, sweetheart."
Sara's breaths grow ragged, her body slowly succumbing to the alcohol coursing through her system.
"Relax, Sar."
Watching her eyes all but roll back, I hold her firmly until I'm sure she's lost consciousness.
Not wasting a moment, I pull us away from the edge, placing more than ample distance between it and ourselves.
Reaching a flat spot void of rocks and glass, I lower us both down to the desert sand.
Eyes glancing up as headlights cut across the scene, I have just enough time to pull Sara's weapon from her hand before my sister approaches us at a near run, eyes desperately trying to make sense of the sight before her.
CATHERINE POV
Running my fingers softly through dark locks, I watch the pale oranges of the rising sun as it continues its journey towards the edge of the mountains.
The blanket covering our bodies lifts and falls gently, its edges caught by the crisp morning breeze.
Hearing a groan, I smile lightly as I swear I've never heard a more beautiful sound in my life.
Shifting in my arms, Sara's features furrow as she struggles to open her eyes against the early morning light.
Finding her surroundings unfamiliar and her movements restricted, her struggles become stronger.
"You're alright, Sara," I whisper to her, watching her actions pause at the unexpected sound of my voice so near.
"Cath?" she questions, voice rough from sleep, alcohol, or some combination of both.
Angling her head, she tries to get a better look at me.
"I'm here," I tell her, gently guiding her head back down to its former place on my shoulder.
Wrapping my arms back around her waist, I resume my former position of holding her tightly against my body.
I don't know why, but I can't bear the thought of letting her go.
Not now, not after last night.
It takes a few minutes, but the tension in Sara's body slowly lessens somewhat, head angling out towards the mountains.
"What happened?" she asks quietly after a moment.
"You don't remember?" I ask her.
Although, judging by the number of bottles it looks like Sara ingested, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't even remember her own name right now.
"Some."
I don't ask her which parts the 'some' includes. Whether it includes the part about her taking her loaded service weapon up here to do things that I can't bear to even think about.
"You got drunk," I settle on saying for right now.
Sara nods slowly, then thinks better of the action as her features pale and her eyes squint.
Neither one of us speaks, and I'm honestly not sure either one of us breathes.
"I couldn't do it."
Sara's whisper breaks through the morning air, my body stiffening at the words, at the reference that is ever so thinly veiled. At the answer to whether she remembers what she apparently came here to do.
"But you considered it."
"Yes."
"And not for the first time."
She pauses a moment this time before answering.
"Yes."
Nodding slowly, my eyes stare numbly out at the sky, the moisture falling soundlessly from my lashes.
"The promise you made with Liam…" I stop, needing a moment to take a breath, to steady my words. "With your brothers…it…included this."
Again, another pause, another silence that is filled by the thundering of my heart.
"Yes."
Closing my eyes, I clench my teeth together, trying to bite down on my emotions, my reaction to her confession.
Feeling my tension, Sara shifts in my arms, pulling herself upright with her good arm.
Putting some space between us, she remains silent as I sit up as well.
"You made a suicide pact."
I need to hear the words aloud, need to stop speaking in veiled references. Need to stop dancing around the issue that demands addressing, and addressing head on.
"Yes."
I nod slowly, wondering why this never occurred to me before. Sara had two brothers, both of whom died essentially at their own hands. She'd already told me about their agreement to go through life in solitude, to not enter into relationships lest they carry on their parent's legacy.
What better way to end their family's legacy than end their family all together?
"It was supposed to end with me. All our negative impacts on this world…they were supposed to end with me."
My brows furrow at her words, the words that partially mirror my own thoughts, but seem to have a glaring hole.
"But Parker had a wife, children."
Whether or not they changed their name back from Sidle, those children would continue the family.
"Operative word being had," Sara says quietly, voice interrupting my thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
Sara shrugs.
"I got notified a couple years back about acquiring part of his estate," she says. "The letter stated that all his heirs were deceased. Thus making Liam and I the only ones left."
Her head shifts to the side, watching nature waking up around us, her tense posture betraying the nonchalant attitude she's trying to portray discussing this particular topic.
"What happened?" I ask, knowing Sara would have looked into it, would never be satisfied with the vague information in the letter.
"Thirteen car pileup on an interstate."
I take a breath, adjusting to the new information, to the implications of the new information.
"I'm sorry," I tell her honestly.
"I didn't know them."
I nod slowly, deciding to let her answer go. I know Sara is more affected by the topic than she's willing to admit, but now isn't the time.
"So it's just you?" I confirm. "When you die the Sidle line ends?"
"Yes."
I readjust my position on the ground, sitting back and studying the woman sitting with me. The woman who I feel I know so intimately, yet hardly at all.
"So you tried to make that happen last night? After what I told you about the cases, you decided to end it once and for all?"
Her eyes narrow slightly, but they still don't meet mine.
"Sara," I get out. "Let's not dance around this. Your fucking loaded gun is sitting five feet away in the car."
She is silent for a few moments before swallowing and steeling herself.
"You already know the answer, Catherine."
Raising a brow, I swallow as well, my eyes also having a hard time remaining on her, but for entirely different reasons.
"What stopped you?" I question. "Or did you just pass out before you could finish the job?"
My voice sounds cold, I know it does, but I can't help but let the anger, the fear, the myriad of other emotions I've been fighting to keep at bay start to creep back in. There's only so much I can hold back and only so long I can do so.
"I couldn't…won't…do that to you, Catherine," she shakes her head, tormented eyes finally fixing on mine. "Never."
The remaining tears trapped behind my eyes escape, my body nearly crumbling beneath me. The anger quickly giving way to devastation, to the deep sadness the events of tonight have wrought within me.
"Then why?" I get out, voice breaking. "Why this, Sara? Why the hell…"
"I thought I could," she admits, her own voice near breaking. "But when it came time to pull the trigger...I couldn't do it...couldn't do that to you."
"But do you want to?" I counter, hands shaking as I wipe at the tears near my eyes. I need to see her for this, need to see her clearly as she answers. "Is a feeling of obligation to me the only thing keeping you here? Because if it is…"
"No," she cuts me off, allowing me to search her eyes.
She's quiet, her good hand opening and closing into a tense fist, the weight of the emotions pulling at her clear to read.
"I kept seeing us, Cath," she confesses, jaw clenching as she fights against the moisture in her own eyes. "Gun to my temple, and all I kept seeing was the life we had together."
She looks away, hand shaking as she runs it through her hair.
When her gaze returns to mine again, her eyes stay on my own, jaw tight.
"I kept seeing the life I want to try to have again with you."
She studies me, body still as the wind gently plays with wisps of her dark hair.
"The life where we're old as dirt, sitting together on the porch of our nursing home bickering about misplacing our false teeth." Her head bows, letting out a breath. "The life where we can barely walk, decrepit and old, but so damn happy because we've been blessed with the years needed to become old, all of which we've spent together."
Closing my own eyes, I don't even bother to wipe the moisture from my face when they reopen.
Reaching over, I gently lift Sara's face, hand not leaving her jaw.
"I've always wanted that life with you," I tell her honestly, voice a whisper. "That ending with you."
Swallowing, I shake my head.
"So you can't do this type of shit to me, sweetheart. When you came up here with your gun…when I saw you lying lifeless in my sister's arms when I finally got to you…I thought…"
"I'm sorry," Sara whispers, fighting hard to keep her eyes on mine. "It doesn't come close to covering something like this, but I'm sorry."
"I know you are," I tell her, eyes softening even as my grip on her jaw remains firm. "But honey, this isn't something we can just ignore."
She stiffens slightly, and her eyes tell me she knows exactly where this is headed.
"You've tried so hard and so long to handle all of this yourself, to fight against all this internally while convincing everyone on the outside you're doing just fine when you're not."
I watch her eyes shift, her body begin to tremble beneath my fingers.
"You're not fine, Sara," I whisper.
She doesn't say anything, her eyes focusing beyond my shoulder, her body tense, eyes tortured.
"Babe," I call to her, reaching up to hold her face with both my hands. "You're not fine, and it's okay."
"You've spent so much of your life holding everyone around you together," I tell her. "Supporting them, caring for them, protecting them. For once you need to focus on yourself."
Leaning forward, I place a gentle kiss into her soft hair, placing my lips near her ear.
"For once, you need to let me take care of you."
At first my whispered request goes unanswered, but, finally, I start to feel her body shift beneath my fingers.
Pulling back slightly, I run my thumb across her cheek, tilting her head up as I do so.
Eyes finally meeting mine, Sara swallows, body still trembling beneath my touch.
"I'm losing myself," she admits, looking away as a lone tear escapes to trace a path down her cheek. "It's so dark…inside…and I keep trying to fight it…"
She turns away, swallowing against the emotion threatening to choke her.
Against the darkness and torment stirring deep inside her.
I watch her inner struggle, a battle with herself and her demons that she's been fighting on some level all the time I've known her.
"I need help."
Eyes shutting at her confession, I let out a long breath, my heart feeling about a thousand times lighter when I reopen them.
Reaching forward, I close the distance between us, turning her face towards me and gently forward until my lips meet with her own.
When I pull back, her eyes search mine, traveling from my gaze to the smile pulling at my lips.
"Cath?" she questions, brows furrowed.
"The strongest person I've ever met," I tell her, my tearful smile expanding, "Just showed me she's a hell of a lot stronger than I even imagined."
AN: Thanks for reading. There may be the potential for some hope and happiness in this story afterall...*shrug*...guess we'll see...
