Chapter 8

Sara's dream was always variations on the same theme. She would hear her mother screaming and she would run towards the sound. She was always in their old house, but it looked nothing like it, in the strange way of dreams. She would run through door after door following the sound of her mother's screams. Some nights she never reached her mother. Those were the better ones. It left her feeling tired but not as drained. Not like the ones where she finds her mother. She would burst through the door and her mother would be kneeling next to the body of her father. Some nights he would be shot, others stabbed. But there was always a lot of blood. Sometimes other people were also in the room. People she remember from that time or her childhood. Her social-worker telling her she must go and pack. A faceless policeman telling her that there was nothing to be afraid of. Various foster parents, their faces blurry with in distinction, telling her to behave and be quiet. But her mother never spoke to her. No matter how Sara asked or begged she would cry into her hands, never even looking up. Sara had realized that she could not remember what her mother looked like. She was unsure how she felt about it and that in itself made her feel guilty.

That night's dream was different though. The dream started off in its normal pattern, she even reached the room with her mother in it. But when she opened the door, she found Grissom watching her mother cry. He then calmly started making notes on his clipboard. Walking to the wall he beckoned Sara over and started explaining to her how the blood spatter indicated a high velocity wound, probably from a gunshot. She started to tell him that it was her father's blood, but every time he looked at her, she would start crying, unable to speak. He put his hand on her shoulder and told her not to worry; it was only empathy she was feeling.

Sara woke up in tears, something that has not happened since high school.

Never before had it been so vivid, and never before had Grissom been in it. When she got out of bed and into a shower, she vaguely wondered if telling him about her past had prompted it. She let the warm water run over her back and sooth her sore muscles and aching mind. She was still very tired but sleep held no appeal now.

She dressed in her running track-suit and sneakers and walked next door to pick up Chris. Chris was one of the real light points in her life. She never had pets growing up, and although she had always liked animals, she had never seen herself as a pet owner.

Then, one afternoon as she was waiting at the lift to go running, an old woman in a wheelchair rolled over, a border collie on a leash tied to her chair. The dog started wiggling its whole body and dancing around her as if she was a long lost friend. Kneeling down the dog had licked Sara all over her face. That's how she had met Chris. It turned out that the old woman, Mrs. Milligan, had been her neighbor for the last two years. She had had Chris for a few months, having taking him in after he was confiscated from his previous owners. The animal had been badly abused, and was extremely fearful of strangers, and took a long time to trust people. Mrs. Milligan was astounded by his reaction to Sara, as was Sara herself once she heard the dog's story. Mrs. Milligan was taking Chris for a call of nature, and on a whim Sara offered to take him along for her run. She has since then never taken a run without him. Chris was the first creature to show Sara unconditional love. During her life she frequently had her heart and her love thrown back into her face.

Mrs. Milligan was a writer who worked from home. She gave Sara a key to her flat, and told her to come fetch the dog any time, day or night. Slipping the key into the lock and opening the door, Sara found that he was already waiting for her. Slipping the leash onto his collar, she locked the door again. Chris always remained calm till they were out of the flat before starting to dance his excitement, making small squeaky noises, and wiggling his whole body from nose to tail in rapid figure-s movements. Sara never waited for the lift with Chris, as he made to much noise and always jogged down the stairs with the dog leading the way. Outside they always stopped at Chris's favorite tree at the entrance of the apartment building to mark his spot before setting of at a gentle. From the beginning Sara was amazed at how well behaved he was. He never pulled at his leash, as most dogs was prone to do, but jogged beside her, glancing up at her every few steps, as if constantly seeking her approval. His only problem was that he tensed whenever he saw another jogger. The hair on his back would rise and he'd move so close to her that he was at risk of becoming entangled in her legs. But he never launched at the person or even barked. Sara marked it down as a response to his painful past, and was rather proud that this seemed to be the only emotional scars he bore. He would start whining when he wanted to pee and Sara was more than happy to go to the nearest tree.

Today even the run barely broke through the dream-induced fog in her mind. Chris seemed to sense her anguish and kept very close to her, tripping over his own feet as he kept looking at her. She went further than normal but Chris seemed to want to keep going. By the end of their run, Sara could feel the endorphins released by her body starting to untangle some of the knots in her mind.

She gave a grateful Chris a long drink of cold water at her apartment before taking him back to Mrs. Milligan's. She opened the door just enough to let Chris in and locked it behind him. She did not have to stomach to face Mrs. Milligan today. The old woman always seemed to hear more than what Sara was telling her though luckily, she never pried for which Sara was grateful.

Back at her apartment she took another long shower before heading to the lab. It was still several hours before the start of her shift, but Sara wanted to do some work on the rhino-case. It had been bugging her. If she was brutally honest, the fact that Ecklie had told her to leave it alone, only made it more appealing. Yet Sara Sidle had always been a champion of the underdog.

Arriving at the lab, she quietly made her way to the evidence room, grateful that she met no one on the way. Booking out her 2 boxes of evidence, she noticed the officer in charge had them already waiting for her when she arrived. Giving him a grateful smile she signed and made her way to an empty lay-out room. She wanted to follow-up on some ideas she had. She was cross-referencing the telephone records of the dead agent, the murdered woman and the gang-banger whose gun had been used. Ecklie was unwilling to spend more lab resources on a case that he saw as unimportant, so Sara didn't log these hours. Rubbing her eyes, she stopped after a couple of hours, checking the time she packed up. She was reluctant to let the others know how much time she was still spending on this case. Coming back into the lab after dropping the boxes back in the evidence lock-up, she nearly walked into Greg as he was sauntering into .the building.

"Hi Greg"

He gave her a knowing smile as he looked over her shoulder in the direction she had just come from, the corridor leading to the evidence locker. She had the decency to flush slightly.

"Learn anything new?"

"No" she answered dejectedly

"Don't worry, next case I'll let you work with me!" He said, draping his arm companionably over her shoulder.

"Oh, really…"

She broke off mid-sentence as Grissom came round the corner. His blue eyes shot daggers at Greg, who quickly removed his arm as if caught doing something illegal. For all the world, he looking like a teenager caught smoking.

"There's a 4-19 out in the suburbs, Sara you're with me. Nick is waiting for us at the car. Greg you're with Catherine, she's in the breakroom" he said as he briskly walked past the two.

"I'll just get my kit," Sara answered to his retreating back.

"Someone has his tail feathers all in a bunch," Greg observed, but softly so that only Sara could hear.

"Better get my kit," Sara sighed again as she and Greg walked deeper into the lab.

This was going to be another long shift, she thought.