Title: The Breakdown of Sara Sidle
Pairings: Sara/Nick friendship, mention of Grissom/Sophia.
Spoilers: None, pre- Grave Danger.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, duh. Just the awesome card with them on it Amanda made me for my birthday. : )
Rating: T. There is no real language or sexual content in this, but it does deal with suicide and drinking. If you aren't ready for this, then DON'T READ IT! I don't want to up the rating, for I feel that most people can handle this. If you feel the rating should be higher, please tell me in a review. Again, if suicide or drinking bothers you, THEN DON'T READ THIS! Don't flame me about it, either, please. I've been told it is quite morbid, so... be warned!
A/N: Don't worry, I'm almost done. I felt that at some point, I need to write a happier story. Well, this isn't it. Sorry, maybe next time. It takes a lot of effort to get into a happy enough place to write happy stories. Anyways, I'm done - ON WITH THE STORY!
Everyone noticed: Sara Sidle just wasn't the same. There was no real reason, but soon, it was noticed around the lab that she wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping, and she always wore a long sleeve shirt. If she was approached about it, Sara would yell something about being independent, a big girl who could take care of herself. But, it was starting to get dangerous.
Sure, her friends had tried to talk to her about it. Greg, with his corny jokes; Warrick, with his charming smile; Catherine, with her motherly instincts. Even Grissom tried, but he was much to busy with Sophia to care about Sara. Nick probably tried the hardest, being her closest friend. But even he couldn't get through. Eventually, her friends started to give up. They came to terms with the fact that Sara just wasn't going to cooperate.
Then, Ecklie started to notice. He called her to his office, and explained it would be good for her to take a vacation. Naturally, she was pissed. She loved work, but she was just too tired to care anymore.
She drove home that morning, tears blurring her vision. She got out of her car, and stumbled into her house, searching for the friendly bottle of rum she had grown so fond of lately. Being unable to find a shot glass, she drank it straight from the bottle. Welcoming the sting of strong, cheap liquor on an empty stomach, she collapsed onto the couch.
Nick and Warrick were sitting in the break room, talking about the usual subject - Sara. Nick could never fully stop worrying about her. He felt like he should be doing something, anything. Warrick would go on to assure him, time and time again, that Sara could take care of herself.
Today, today was different. Nick could feel in the pit of his stomach, something was wrong. Even after hearing of her forced vacation, he felt no better. Nick vowed to visit her apartment after shift. No matter what she said, she needed a friend. Nick, he wanted to be that friend.
When Sara awoke from blacking out on the couch, she had a sour taste in her mouth, and racing pulse, and a splitting migraine. The fresh scars on her wrist were throbbing, the blood begging for release. She viewed her bleak surroundings this Friday night; her empty apartment was of no comfort. The stormy grey skies outside did nothing for her mood. And, that box cutter on the coffee table was looking more and more inviting. It called to her. But, Sara had gone for over a week without cutting. The increase of alcohol showed her anguish. The bad habits of her younger years were coming back. She just wished she knew why. She reached for the box cutter, and her eyes watered. She was at the end of her rope, and no one was there to save her.
Nick finally finished his shift, a double, sadly. He jumped into his Denali and sped off in the direction of Sara's apartment without a word to anyone. He hoped she was watching television or sleeping, but the knot in his stomach begged to differ. As he raced down the highway, he prayed for her safety. Something was happening, and it wasn't good.
Sara sadly stroked the handle of the box cutter. She took the blade and nicked her left palm. The red blood trickled out, and hit the dark grey carpet. The cut quickly clotted, and Sara sobbed in torment. It didn't give the release she needed. The physical pain couldn't release the anguish she felt.
'Well, it's down the highway, not across the street,' she thought bitterly to herself, 'Must make it count. Nothing else in my life has.' She contemplated writing a note, then decided no one would care. Why bother? She swiftly grabbed the box cutter and made a clean cut from wrist to mid arm, gasping at the cold tingle. She heard the faint crash of a door, and blacked out once again.
MUAHAHAHA! Sorry, hate to do that to ya. I figure, if I get 5 or more reviews, I'll post the rest of the story. Or, you can use your own imagination to make up the ending yourself. I'm just evil like that. So, review, tell me if you hate or like it. Or, if you hate me. Lots of people probably will.