Sara shifted on the hard plastic, hearing it crinkle beneath her like a Twinkie wrapper. Twinkies, she thought with an unvoiced sigh. In her haste to cover more ground, she'd skipped both breakfast and lunch. She twisted her body slightly to catch sight of the setting sun behind her. It seemed as if dinner would be a pipe dream, too.

Her eyes had barely begun to scan the room when a happy voice interrupted her thoughts. "I just ... I can't believe it. My Sara." Her mother set down their coffee cups, reaching out to pat Sara's cheek. "You're here. You're really here."

Sara's mouth twisted into a smirk, which she tried to force to become a smile. "I'm really here. It's...good to see you. Mom," she added as an afterthought.

"You, too, baby." Laura Sidle sank down into the chair, smiling broadly at her daughter. "I can hardly believe it's been so long. Why haven't you come to visit sooner?" she chided.

"Work," Sara disclaimed immediately. "You know, I'm always on call. And there was--" She almost mentioned Grissom, but bit her tongue at the last moment, giving a shrug instead. "I'm sorry." Sara frowned slightly. "I wish I could've come."

Laura smiled sadly, perhaps seeing Sara's discomfort and understanding the reason for her long absence. "So am I." She clapped her hands together lightly. "But you're here now, and that's all that matters. Catch me up on your life, baby. How's the crime-fighting?"

"It's..." Sara tilted her head, wondering how to explain the last year to her mother. "I took a leave of absence. I still love the job, but I've seen too much death."

Laura narrowed her eyes, but apparently decided not to intrude further. "Well, that's good. Maybe you'll find something in the meantime that's not so grim."

Grim like my life, you mean? Sara chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I hope so. My bank account won't last forever." She frowned, worry lines creasing her forehead. She hadn't really thought about what to do after resigning.

"You'll find something," her mother said decisively. "So does this leave of absence mean you can stay a while?"

Sara balked, but kept her face neutral. "I'm...not sure. I thought I'd play it by ear." Before her mother could respond, she went on. "Did I tell you I got a dog?"

"Oh, really? What kind?"

"He's a mastiff mix. His name is Hank." Sara smiled, producing a picture of the dog from her wallet.

Laura cooed over the photo. "So where's this handsome grandson of mine?"

"Staying in Vegas with...friends," Sara said. "I didn't know how many hotels out here accept pets."

"Well, you'll just have to bring him next time, hm?" Laura handed the picture back, scrutinizing Sara's face as she did so. "You look exhausted. Have you been sleeping?"

Sara thought about lying, but decided against it. "No," she admitted. "It's been a rough few months."

Frowning, Laura said softly, "I'm sorry. This vacation will be good for you, then. Nothing to do here but eat, sleep and swim. Do you still surf?"

"I haven't since I moved," Sara said wistfully. "Maybe I should."

Laura was still frowning, and she crossed her arms. "You've gotten thin," she said, almost accusingly. "You haven't been eating, either, have you?"

"I eat," Sara protested. Sometimes. Just not today.

As if reading her mind, her mother filled in, "Occasionally? Well, that, anyway, I can fix. Do you still like ham?"

Sara cringed. "Actually...I'm a vegetarian."

"Oh." Laura cleared her throat. "Macaroni and cheese?" she offered.

"Perfect." Sara smiled, feeling something in her relax slightly. Maybe, just maybe, she'd come through this unscathed.

------

It's amazing, Gil. It's like nothing has changed; she's exactly how I remembered her, right down to the denial. She didn't want to hear about my work, I could tell. We talked extensively about the weather and my brother's new baby, all with this huge elephant sitting in the easy chair between us. I wonder if anything will ever change...

------

Don't assume you know what she's thinking, Sara. She may see the elephant, too...

------

"Mom..." As the closing credits of their movie rolled by, Sara reached for the remote, muting the sound. "Mom, can we--"

Laura smiled brightly, rising to her feet quickly. "You want some more coffee, baby?"

"No," Sara said, stifling her sigh. "No, thanks. I'm just gonna to head to bed."

"Okay. No, no," Laura waved her off when she would've taken their dishes from the coffee table. "I've got these. You get some rest, sweetheart."

Sara smiled thinly. "Thanks, Mom." She headed up the stairs and soon lay beneath the covers in a bed that reminded her altogether too much of the bed she'd slept in as a child, in a room that looked, felt and even smelled like her childhood home.

It took hours for Sara to fall asleep without the sounds of Vegas filtering in through the window, twisting the ring she kept on her left hand - why, she asked herself for the thousandth time, but she had no good answer. When it came right down to it, she could ignore the elephant just as well as her mother. The apple didn't fall far from that tree. Once she was asleep, though, the nightmares took only minutes to grab hold in her subconscious.

She woke to her mother shaking her shoulder, calling her name while she groaned and thrashed. "Sara," Laura tried again, cupping her daughter's cheek. "Sara, baby, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Sara blinked a couple of times, tears obscuring her vision. "Mom?"

"I'm here." Laura sat back, looking relieved. "Are you all right?"

Scooting up in the bed, Sara shook her head, but responded in the affirmative. "Just a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Laura stood, offering a comforting smile. "If you change your mind, I'm right down the hall." She stepped into the doorway.

"Mom," Sara called, stopping Laura, who turned back immediately. "I just--" That was all she got out before the tears started to fall. "If you...if you don't mind?"

Shaking her head, Laura moved back to the bed and sat down. "Tell me, baby. The monsters are never as bad once you've talked about them."

Sara's harsh laugh startled them both. "You have no idea," she whispered, her voice thick with the tears that coursed over her cheeks. Laura laid a hand on Sara's shoulder, which just made Sara sob harder. The levee across her soul broke under the weight of repression, and the story she'd shared only with her soulmate came pouring out: the horrors she'd faced professionally, how they'd all come home to roost in the person of Natalie Davis and the trauma she'd suffered during her trek through the desert.

Laura sat speechless through Sara's outburst, one hand clamped firmly over her mouth, until finally Sara was done, shaking with now-silent sobs. Laura gathered her daughter in her arms, murmuring soft assurances. "Oh, honey. Oh, Sara. If I'd known..."

Sara shook her head, sniffling. "No, I know. It's not your fault. I just..." She cried harder. "I could have gone on forever, I think. I had just about learned how to keep it from affecting me. And we were good," she babbled. "Really good. I've never been that happy. And then," Sara's eyes darkened with anger, "she came along and ruined it. And I was so mad, for such a long time, Mom. Not at Natalie, but..." Sara ducked her head, murmuring, "at you."

"At me? Why, baby?"

"Because..." Sara sniffled again, swiping at her nose with a tissue Laura had dug out of the night stand. "Because of what you did."

"Sara..."

Sara met her mother's eyes, sorrow connecting the pair. "I know it's not fair. You were just defending yourself. But...why didn't you run, Momma?" In her tears, Sara had reverted to the name she'd used as a child. "If you'd just gotten us out of there, maybe I wouldn't have..." Wouldn't have this stupid obsession with saving every victim, everywhere, because no one was there to save me. "Why did you do what you did?" She still couldn't bring herself to use the proper words; "kill", "murder", "stab"...they were all so heinous.

"Run?" Laura shook her head. "There was nowhere to run, baby. He pulled all my strings."

"There were shelters, even then. Pro bono lawyers. We could've gone underground. Maybe gotten new names. I've always wanted to be a Jennifer." Sara tried to laugh, but it became a hiccuped sob.

Laura reached out, wiping Sara's tear tracks away with her thumb. "I was too scared."

Sara went from sobbing to almost screaming in the space of a heartbeat. "Not too scared to stab him in front of me and Tony!"

Laura turned her face away, and when she looked back, tears were forming in her eyes. "He...I never wanted you to know this, sweetheart. I know you saw what he did to me, but he was still your daddy. Do you know what changed that night?" She didn't wait for a response. "He threatened you, Sara. I--" She choked back a sob. "I couldn't let him touch you two. You were my life."

Sara inhaled sharply. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Laura smiled wanly, squeezing Sara's hand. "Seems there's a lot we don't know about each other. Let's work on that, okay?"

"Okay." Sara wiped at her tears, passing her mother a clean tissue.

Laura smiled tenderly. "Come on downstairs, baby. I have a feeling neither of us will be able to sleep tonight, and we have a lot to discuss. I want to hear all about this 'we'."

"Huh?" Sara replied, frowning in confusion.

"You said 'we were good'. I want to know about the other half of 'we'." Laura smiled gently.

"Oh." She'd walked into that one. Somewhat reluctantly, Sara climbed out of bed, padding after her mother. "You remember Gil Grissom?"

------

Thanks for your advice. It was a good talk. There was so much I didn't see back then, things I couldn't have known. I feel like some of the ghosts have been laid to rest. I miss you. It took all her strength not to hit the "delete" key.

------

Sara left her mother's house with a lighter heart. She couldn't change her past, but some of the things she'd learned might help her cope better with the pain she held within herself. As she drove, she turned up the radio and sang along, pushing aside the elephant in the passenger seat. Gil would wait.

THE END