Fic : Demons Part 13
Title: When Demons Come a Calling - Part 13
Author: Kimmi
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Sara/Catherine
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I only wished I owned Sara and Catherine. Unfortunately CBS does, I’m just borrowing them.
Summary: When Sara’s past comes back to haunt her it arrives with a vengeance.
Spoilers: Up to Nesting Dolls, after that it takes a sharp left turn.
Authors Notes: This is dark, full of angst and deals with themes of rape and torture, although I don’t think I got too graphic. I also do not have a beta so there will be errors.
Chapters | 1 | 2-3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7-8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 |
Part 13
“It’s been three days Griss and we’ve got absolutely nothing! Hell they’re most likely dead already and this bastard is drinking margaritas on a beach in Mexico right now!” Nick yelled at his former boss. He was slowly losing it and he knew that, but he just couldn’t stop himself from taking out his fear on those around him. He had been going for more than seventy-two hours with no sleep, very little to eat and enough caffeine to keep an elephant awake for a year. He was so close to his breaking point that he could see the cracks spreading.
The words were barely out of Nick’s mouth when he suddenly found himself face to face with a very pissed off entomologist. Fear shot through him like a bullet as he looked into the shorter man’s eyes and saw pain mixed with terror and blistering hot rage glaring back at him. He had never seen that much raw emotion on Grissom’s face.
“Shut up, they are not dead! And if you want to continue working here I suggest you get that through your head.” Gil was in a red haze. Having lived in abject fear for days his nerves had been ground down into razor sharp points, slicing him into jagged pieces. He had to believe that Sara and Catherine were alive and whole because if he didn’t then the shards of his sanity would lose what little cohesion they had left and he would fly apart.
Warrick stepped between the two men and tried to defuse the situation. “You both need to calm down. We’re not going to do Cath and Sara any good if we’re tearing each other apart.”
Nick hung his head in shame. He knew his words had set off the older man. Gil was already walking a tightrope of despair and he had all but pushed him off it. “I’m sorry Griss. I’m just tired, frustrated and scared out of my mind.”
“No I’m the one that should be sorry Nicky I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. I hope you will forgive me. But to be clear we are not giving up until Catherine and Sara are standing here with us.” Now that Gil had gotten a little of his equilibrium back he realized how close he had come to hurting the younger man. For a few moments all he had wanted to do was throttle Nick, make him take back those hurtful words.
“The fact that we haven’t found their bodies gives me hope. This guy wouldn’t hide them. He’d dump them where we were sure to discover them. He’s the kind of psychopath that would want to see the looks on our faces and gloat at our pain. So we keep looking.” Grissom understood how Nick felt, he was feeling the same way but he couldn’t let himself think that they weren’t still alive.
“What I don’t understand is why he called in the murders when he did. Why not wait until your shift started? That way Sara would have definitely been assigned to one of the cases.” That question had been on Nick’s mind ever since Brass had traced the 911 calls and found out that they had all come from the same payphone, only minutes apart. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out that Michael Thomas was the one that had placed them.
“He’s been watching Sara. That means he’s been watching us as well. He must have known that neither of our shifts could handle that kind of case load and would have to have help.” It was the only reason that made any sense to Grissom. Of course trying to find sane reasoning for the actions of a madman was pretty much pointless.
“Yeah, but how could he be sure that Catherine wouldn’t get someone from dayshift? I mean how could he possibly know she would call you?” For Nick it was something to focus on other than his fear for his two friends and he just couldn’t let it go.
“I don’t know Nicky, I wish I did. If I could figure out how this man thinks, I could find him.” The whole thing was tearing him up inside. Grissom was living in a hurricane of self-recrimination over not being able to put the clues together and find them.
The two men fell into an uneasy silence and Warrick watched over the both of them glad that they seemed to have already forgotten the fight. Just when it seemed as if the hush that was surrounding them would stretch on indefinitely it was broken by the shrill ringing of a cell phone. They all reached reflexively for their sides but it was Grissom that came up the winner.
Nick and Warrick looked on, almost afraid to hope, as Grissom listened to whoever was on the other end of the line.
“They found Sara’s car. It’s at an abandoned plastic’s factory outside of town. Highway Patrol spotted it about ten minutes ago. Get the others so we can head over there, Brass is already on the way.”
***
Catherine’s head snapped up from where it rested on her knees as the door to her tiny prison swung open. She hadn’t seen or heard from her captor since she had tried to escape and free Sara. This meant that she also hadn’t eaten or had any water since then either. But even as hungry and thirsty as she was, she knew without a doubt that it had to be nothing in comparison to what the brunette was going through.
She hadn’t heard Sara in so long that she had almost convinced herself that the younger woman was dead. The only thing that gave her any hope was the fact that she herself was still alive. Surely if Thomas had killed the lanky brunette then he would have come to finish off Catherine as well. But now he was back and she had the feeling that her time might be up as he silently crossed the short distance between them and roughly pulled her to her feet by the arm.
Michael couldn’t help the grin of triumph as he propelled her down the hall. His Sara was finally ready and this bitch was going to get everything she had coming to her. She had defied him, tried to ruin his plans and steal his mate away from him. He was going to greatly enjoy watching his mahogany-eyed goddess rip her apart, just like in his dream.
The grip the tall man had on her arm was not only painful but it was at such an angle that Catherine had to nearly run on her tiptoes to keep up with him and not be dragged down the corridor. And when he stopped abruptly it was only his bruising hold on her that kept Cath from falling.
The door before them gave a shrieking protest as Thomas nearly ripped it from its hinges and Catherine’s fear was momentarily overshadowed by puzzlement. It was obviously a janitor’s closet but she couldn’t think of a good reason for him to bring her there, unless he intended to make this her new cell. The lithe blonde didn’t have time to ask, even if she had wanted to, before he shoved her inside and stepped up to a large utility sink.
Even though she wanted to run there was no way Catherine could possibly get past the man and out the door. All Thomas would have to do was stick his arm out to stop her in her tracks. It wasn’t immediately obvious what he was doing but it became clear soon enough when he turned a water hose on her.
The ice cold water hit her full force in the chest and Cath couldn’t bite back a yelp. It took a few moments for her brain to get over the sudden shock and realize she was missing a golden opportunity. She managed to swallow quite a bit of water before her forced cold shower was over, enough to ease the soreness in her throat and the dull the aching of her empty belly.
As she stood there shivering, teeth chattering painfully, Catherine couldn’t miss the predatory look in Thomas’ cold eyes as his gaze raked up and down her wet body. And suddenly Catherine wasn’t just shaking from the cold. But before she could wrap her arms around her chest to shield herself from that hungry look she was being propelled out of the room at a dizzying pace.
He led her back down the hall, past the door where she had been kept to another room. This one was a little bigger than her first cell but it was completely bare except for a set of chains attached to the wall. The sight of them cranked her fear up to volcanic levels and she made a desperate last ditch effort to escape. Twisting her arm with all her might Cath tried to pull away from him, but she didn’t have a chance against his superior strength.
One tug was all it took for him to bring her back to his side and before she could try again she was seeing stars from the blow he landed to her head. Her vision was still swimming when the rapidly swelling lump on the back of her skull hit the wall and sent a new round of lights dancing across her eyes. Before Catherine could get her vision to clear her hands were being lifted above her and secured to the chains with the same kind of leather straps he had used to tie her to the cot. He slapped a piece of duct tape over mouth and gave her a huge toothy grin before turning on his heel and striding quickly out of the room.
A few minutes later Catherine would have gasped, if it hadn’t been for the gag, when the dark haired man returned guiding Sara in front of him. It was her first look at the younger woman since she had driven away from the CSI Lab and the changes in the brunette were nothing less than startling and terrifying.
Sara’s eyes had sunk into her face and sported large dark bags under them, giving her an almost skeletal look. They were so dead looking that Cath couldn’t help the shudder than ran through her body, it was as if the light that normally shined in those deep brown eyes had been put out from the inside. Her cheekbones shown in stark relief under the meager light making Cath doubt she had been given any food or drink the entire time she had been there. Her normally olive skin was so sallow and pale the blonde was sure if she were closer she would be able to see the intricate network veins running beneath. In short the formally healthy and whole young woman looked like a zombie, like the walking dead.
Sara was wearing shorts and a small white tank top that only accentuated the dark bruises covering her body. Catherine had to close her eyes as she noticed cuts running up and down the brunette’s long legs. Tears were burning to be shed at the thought of the many horrors the young woman had been made to endure at the hands of the madman standing behind her.
Michael smirked at the look in the blonde’s eyes. She was hurting for his Sara but she wasn’t yet afraid of her. That would soon change. “I have a gift for you my love. Take a long look at her, she belongs to you.”
Sara raised her eyes where the voice directed her and felt something stir within her. It was a brief flash, almost a memory, then it was gone. She grasped at it desperately wanting something other than the murky cloud that surrounded her. It was so hard to think, to feel anything other than the dull ache of her body. He had given her something, something for the pain he said. It had eased the agony but it had also wrapped her mind in a thick shroud of darkness that she couldn’t seem to penetrate. All she could do walk were he told her to walk, stand where he told her to stand, do what he told her to do.
“She’s the one that has caused you all this pain. She’s just like your mother Sara. She degrades you, she hurts you, she makes you feel like nothing. She’s the reason you’re here.” Michael told her softly, his lips only a breath away from her ear.
Sara shook her head. He was always talking about her parents, making her tell him about the horrible things they had done. She didn’t want to remember them and what had happened in that house, remembering brought back all the hurt they had heaped upon her tiny body and young mind. The woman in front of her was familiar, but she couldn’t seem to place her. How could the blonde have treated her like her mother did and her not remember it?
“Yes she is.” Thomas took her movement as denial. “How many times has she put you down? How many times did you reach out only to be kicked away like a dog?” It was amazing what he had learned about the two women’s relationship after a few sessions with Sara. “She’s like your father too. She wants to hit you, to break your bones, she wants to kill you.”
Another flash, this one deeper, crisper, clearer. ‘I admit there have been times I’ve wanted to shake you senseless when you get so wrapped up in a case that you forget that anything else exists. I have entertained thoughts of strangling you when your attitude gets out of control. Once I even had a daydream of bending you over my knee and spanking you for acting like an overgrown petulant child.’ Could it be true? Was it a memory or just a nightmare? Could the woman in front of her have told her that? Sara couldn’t be sure but it seemed to ring true. Something about the blonde was sending mixed signals bouncing through her battered mind. She made her feel angry, scared and safe all at the same time. But which emotion could she trust?
He could see a spark of recognition in her eyes. “You’re almost there.” Michael whispered in the brunette’s ear. “I know you want her, reach out and take what you want. She can’t deny you now, won’t deny you. Look at her, she’s waiting for you Sara.”
She shook her head. This was wrong, but it was true. She could feel her hands shaking, wanting to obey. There was something clawing at the back of her head, trying to dig its way out, something that screeched and wailed. But Sara wasn’t sure if it wanted her to do as he said or if it was trying to stop her.
“You’ve wanted her, loved her, for five years and for five long years she has stabbed you in the heart. She whored herself to thousands of men, selling her body to their eyes. She gives everyone around you a piece of herself, but for you? Nothing. Not a kind word, not a pat on the shoulder, not even glance in your direction. Take her. Take her now. End your pain.” His voice rose with each word until he was nearly screaming. He was so close, so very close, to having everything he wanted, to attaining his iny
“No.” Sara’s voice was raw. The screams that had been tore from her throat had ripped and shredded it until it wasn’t even recognizable as hers. “I can’t.”
“You can! It’s the last step and you will be reborn. All the pain will end, no one will ever be able to touch you again, to hurt you. It’s already there inside you Sara. Your father beat his family and his violence lives within you. Your mother murdered him and her blood pumps through your veins. You are a born killer, designed by nature and nurtured by pain. I helped you along your path the night I took you. Your soul has festered, rotted and decayed, until I came back to complete metamorphosis.” Michael knew she wanted it, he could see it in her eyes. The desire was shining brighter than the sun. All she had to do was overcome that last shred of what weak people who were too afraid to take what they wanted in life called humanity.
Catherine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was no way that any of that could be true. Could it? ‘You know ... every time we get a case with a hint of domestic violence or abuse, you go off the deep end. What is your problem?’ Suddenly her own words were coming back to haunt to her. There had been huge neon signs hanging over Sara’s head and she hadn’t put the pieces together. This was what the brunette and Grissom had alluded to back in the lab. Regret and guilt forced her eyes closed for a second and Catherine vowed that if she got the chance, she would make up every cross word, barb and cold shoulder she had ever thrown the younger woman’s way.
She opened her eyes just in time to see Thomas give the brunette a shove, making her stumble forward. Sara came to stop just before she crashed into her, their faces mere inches from each other. Catherine tried to catch her gaze, tried to communicate with her, tell her not to do what he wanted but the normally shining eyes were flat, dead. It was as if Sara wasn’t even there, and her body was walking around on its own.
“Touch her,” Michael demanded his voice forceful and hard.
Sara could see her arm rising without her consent. The thing just seemed to have a will of its own. She wanted to stop but could only watch as it reached out for the blonde in front of her. The feel of the soft downy cheek under her fingers sent a bolt of lighting through her and she regained control of her traitorous limb and snatched it away before it could betray her again. There were so many conflicting emotions running rampart through her she didn’t know what to feel. She wanted to touch this woman, was drawn to her, but she knew it was wrong. Guilt was clashing with desire and she didn’t know which would win.
Michael stepped up beside his protégé. Finally she was giving in. A few more minutes and she would be his forever. He drew his knife and began cutting the buttons off the blonde’s still damp shirt. “Touch her there.”
Once again there was no will, just action. Sara had learned to obey, when she did as she was told, the pain was taken away. But she also wanted to do as she was told, wanted to feel that soft skin again. Her hand was shaking as she let it run down the woman’s body, between the valley of her generous breasts and over her toned stomach before falling away at the waistband of her jeans. The guilt returned a thousand fold but it didn’t stop the pleasure she felt from touching the blonde.
Sara was mesmerized by the rapid rise and fall of the woman’s chest and everything else melted into the background until she felt something cold and hard being pressed into her hand. She looked down and the knife ensnared her. She had seen one like it before, big and wickedly sharp.
Her father had been sprawled on the bed, passed out drunk once again, unaware that death was stalking him. Her mother stood next to him, a warped smile distorting her face into a demented caricature. Sara cowered in the corner Laura Sidle had thrown her in, hoping that the enraged woman wouldn’t remember that she was there, wouldn’t come for her too. The knife flashed sliver in the moonlight, winked at her, and like a beacon it drew her eyes as it rose swiftly in the air. Crimson sprang from the gash in his chest, staining his white t-shirt. The knife rose again, covered in gore and dripping blood. As her mother plunged the blade into her father over and over the viscous liquid flew off it, covering her mother, the walls and even her own thin body.
“Cut the rest off of her.”
The voice was cold, but it was also excited as it pulled her out of the memory. Sara looked up into tearful blue eyes filled with fear, fear of her. Something dark twisted and snapped deep within her soul and she raised her hand.
Catherine wanted to close her eyes, she wanted all this to be a horrible nightmare. But it wasn’t. Sara was standing before her with a knife in her hand looking like she was ready to kill her, wanted to kill her. When the brunette had touched her it was as if she didn’t even realize she was doing it, like she was a puppet on a string, a life sized marionette. Even then she didn’t think Sara would hurt her, couldn’t believe that the tall brunette would ever harm her. Now Sara’s dead eyes were alive again and burning with a hatred she could never have imagined in the normally soft brown depths. Now she wasn’t just afraid of her, she was terrified.
The move when it came was so fast Cath could hardly follow it. She didn’t even have time to blink as Sara whirled, knife raised, and sank the blade into their tormentor’s shoulder with a strangled growl. She fell on him, striking out with her fists, raining down blows in quick succession. It was as if she was trying to return every hit he had given to her, every ounce of pain she had suffered at his hands. The fury erupting from the young woman was frightening to see but Willows was glad that it was being directed at him.
Sara hit until she could no longer raise her fists. She looked at the knife still stuck in Michael’s shoulder and thought about pulling it out and shoving it into his black heart but stopped herself. If she did that, she would be lost forever. She stood up and stepped away so she wouldn’t be tempted again. “I told you that you would never make me like you. I am not a rapist, I am not a killer.”
Catherine felt hot tears burning their way down her face. She wasn’t sure if it was relief that it was over or grief at how close Sara had come to becoming the things she hated the most.
It was the fear in the blonde’s eyes that had cut through the fog blanketing her mind and brought Sara back to herself. She had never wanted to inspire that in anyone. She had been afraid all her life, first of her parents, then Michael Thomas and men like him, then everyone. She had never made anyone fear her and it made her physically ill to think that she had evoked that emotion in Catherine.
Cath was still crying as Sara released her wrists. She fell into the younger woman needing to feel her, needing reassurance that their ordeal was truly over and that the brunette was all right. She became aware as her sobs lessened that the lithe woman was saying she was sorry, over and over again. She leaned back and brought her hands up to cup Sara’s remarkably untouched face. “It’s okay sweetheart, everything’s all right. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Catherine was forgiving her, how could she after what she had almost done, after everything she had allowed to happen? She searched the blonde’s eyes and saw that the fear was gone, replaced by relief and tenderness. She didn’t deserve it.
Catherine was confused as Sara pushed off her and backed away shaking her head. “Sara what is it? What’s wrong?”
Sara held up her hands to ward the blonde off. She couldn’t be near her, not now, she couldn’t be trusted. “Please Cat, just stay away. You have to stay away from me.”
Catherine wanted to go to her, hold her, take away all her fear and pain. But before she could take a step forward or convince the younger woman to let her help her, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. “Sara look out!”
Whirling at the blonde’s scream, Sara found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. She backed up slowly, trying to put herself between Thomas and Catherine. She hadn’t been able to protect her before, she was going to make sure she did it now, even if it was only for a few seconds.
Cath stared at the gun over Sara’s shoulder. She recognized the Glock 9mm. Of course she ought to, it was the gun she carried nearly every day. He was going to shoot them with her own piece.
“You stupid bitch. You betrayed me for that whoring piece of shit? I was going to make you a queen among the swine of this world. Now you have to die, but you’ll watch this slut die first.” Michael was enraged. Sara was supposed to be his mate, the other half of his soul, his perfect woman. Instead she had become his Judas.
Sara turned and pulled Catherine to her, covering her with her own body a split second before an inferno ripped through her shoulder.
TBC
Author: Kimmi
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Sara/Catherine
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I only wished I owned Sara and Catherine. Unfortunately CBS does, I’m just borrowing them.
Summary: When Sara’s past comes back to haunt her it arrives with a vengeance.
Spoilers: Up to Nesting Dolls, after that it takes a sharp left turn.
Authors Notes: This is dark, full of angst and deals with themes of rape and torture, although I don’t think I got too graphic. I also do not have a beta so there will be errors.
Chapters | 1 | 2-3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7-8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 |
Part 13
“It’s been three days Griss and we’ve got absolutely nothing! Hell they’re most likely dead already and this bastard is drinking margaritas on a beach in Mexico right now!” Nick yelled at his former boss. He was slowly losing it and he knew that, but he just couldn’t stop himself from taking out his fear on those around him. He had been going for more than seventy-two hours with no sleep, very little to eat and enough caffeine to keep an elephant awake for a year. He was so close to his breaking point that he could see the cracks spreading.
The words were barely out of Nick’s mouth when he suddenly found himself face to face with a very pissed off entomologist. Fear shot through him like a bullet as he looked into the shorter man’s eyes and saw pain mixed with terror and blistering hot rage glaring back at him. He had never seen that much raw emotion on Grissom’s face.
“Shut up, they are not dead! And if you want to continue working here I suggest you get that through your head.” Gil was in a red haze. Having lived in abject fear for days his nerves had been ground down into razor sharp points, slicing him into jagged pieces. He had to believe that Sara and Catherine were alive and whole because if he didn’t then the shards of his sanity would lose what little cohesion they had left and he would fly apart.
Warrick stepped between the two men and tried to defuse the situation. “You both need to calm down. We’re not going to do Cath and Sara any good if we’re tearing each other apart.”
Nick hung his head in shame. He knew his words had set off the older man. Gil was already walking a tightrope of despair and he had all but pushed him off it. “I’m sorry Griss. I’m just tired, frustrated and scared out of my mind.”
“No I’m the one that should be sorry Nicky I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. I hope you will forgive me. But to be clear we are not giving up until Catherine and Sara are standing here with us.” Now that Gil had gotten a little of his equilibrium back he realized how close he had come to hurting the younger man. For a few moments all he had wanted to do was throttle Nick, make him take back those hurtful words.
“The fact that we haven’t found their bodies gives me hope. This guy wouldn’t hide them. He’d dump them where we were sure to discover them. He’s the kind of psychopath that would want to see the looks on our faces and gloat at our pain. So we keep looking.” Grissom understood how Nick felt, he was feeling the same way but he couldn’t let himself think that they weren’t still alive.
“What I don’t understand is why he called in the murders when he did. Why not wait until your shift started? That way Sara would have definitely been assigned to one of the cases.” That question had been on Nick’s mind ever since Brass had traced the 911 calls and found out that they had all come from the same payphone, only minutes apart. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out that Michael Thomas was the one that had placed them.
“He’s been watching Sara. That means he’s been watching us as well. He must have known that neither of our shifts could handle that kind of case load and would have to have help.” It was the only reason that made any sense to Grissom. Of course trying to find sane reasoning for the actions of a madman was pretty much pointless.
“Yeah, but how could he be sure that Catherine wouldn’t get someone from dayshift? I mean how could he possibly know she would call you?” For Nick it was something to focus on other than his fear for his two friends and he just couldn’t let it go.
“I don’t know Nicky, I wish I did. If I could figure out how this man thinks, I could find him.” The whole thing was tearing him up inside. Grissom was living in a hurricane of self-recrimination over not being able to put the clues together and find them.
The two men fell into an uneasy silence and Warrick watched over the both of them glad that they seemed to have already forgotten the fight. Just when it seemed as if the hush that was surrounding them would stretch on indefinitely it was broken by the shrill ringing of a cell phone. They all reached reflexively for their sides but it was Grissom that came up the winner.
Nick and Warrick looked on, almost afraid to hope, as Grissom listened to whoever was on the other end of the line.
“They found Sara’s car. It’s at an abandoned plastic’s factory outside of town. Highway Patrol spotted it about ten minutes ago. Get the others so we can head over there, Brass is already on the way.”
***
Catherine’s head snapped up from where it rested on her knees as the door to her tiny prison swung open. She hadn’t seen or heard from her captor since she had tried to escape and free Sara. This meant that she also hadn’t eaten or had any water since then either. But even as hungry and thirsty as she was, she knew without a doubt that it had to be nothing in comparison to what the brunette was going through.
She hadn’t heard Sara in so long that she had almost convinced herself that the younger woman was dead. The only thing that gave her any hope was the fact that she herself was still alive. Surely if Thomas had killed the lanky brunette then he would have come to finish off Catherine as well. But now he was back and she had the feeling that her time might be up as he silently crossed the short distance between them and roughly pulled her to her feet by the arm.
Michael couldn’t help the grin of triumph as he propelled her down the hall. His Sara was finally ready and this bitch was going to get everything she had coming to her. She had defied him, tried to ruin his plans and steal his mate away from him. He was going to greatly enjoy watching his mahogany-eyed goddess rip her apart, just like in his dream.
The grip the tall man had on her arm was not only painful but it was at such an angle that Catherine had to nearly run on her tiptoes to keep up with him and not be dragged down the corridor. And when he stopped abruptly it was only his bruising hold on her that kept Cath from falling.
The door before them gave a shrieking protest as Thomas nearly ripped it from its hinges and Catherine’s fear was momentarily overshadowed by puzzlement. It was obviously a janitor’s closet but she couldn’t think of a good reason for him to bring her there, unless he intended to make this her new cell. The lithe blonde didn’t have time to ask, even if she had wanted to, before he shoved her inside and stepped up to a large utility sink.
Even though she wanted to run there was no way Catherine could possibly get past the man and out the door. All Thomas would have to do was stick his arm out to stop her in her tracks. It wasn’t immediately obvious what he was doing but it became clear soon enough when he turned a water hose on her.
The ice cold water hit her full force in the chest and Cath couldn’t bite back a yelp. It took a few moments for her brain to get over the sudden shock and realize she was missing a golden opportunity. She managed to swallow quite a bit of water before her forced cold shower was over, enough to ease the soreness in her throat and the dull the aching of her empty belly.
As she stood there shivering, teeth chattering painfully, Catherine couldn’t miss the predatory look in Thomas’ cold eyes as his gaze raked up and down her wet body. And suddenly Catherine wasn’t just shaking from the cold. But before she could wrap her arms around her chest to shield herself from that hungry look she was being propelled out of the room at a dizzying pace.
He led her back down the hall, past the door where she had been kept to another room. This one was a little bigger than her first cell but it was completely bare except for a set of chains attached to the wall. The sight of them cranked her fear up to volcanic levels and she made a desperate last ditch effort to escape. Twisting her arm with all her might Cath tried to pull away from him, but she didn’t have a chance against his superior strength.
One tug was all it took for him to bring her back to his side and before she could try again she was seeing stars from the blow he landed to her head. Her vision was still swimming when the rapidly swelling lump on the back of her skull hit the wall and sent a new round of lights dancing across her eyes. Before Catherine could get her vision to clear her hands were being lifted above her and secured to the chains with the same kind of leather straps he had used to tie her to the cot. He slapped a piece of duct tape over mouth and gave her a huge toothy grin before turning on his heel and striding quickly out of the room.
A few minutes later Catherine would have gasped, if it hadn’t been for the gag, when the dark haired man returned guiding Sara in front of him. It was her first look at the younger woman since she had driven away from the CSI Lab and the changes in the brunette were nothing less than startling and terrifying.
Sara’s eyes had sunk into her face and sported large dark bags under them, giving her an almost skeletal look. They were so dead looking that Cath couldn’t help the shudder than ran through her body, it was as if the light that normally shined in those deep brown eyes had been put out from the inside. Her cheekbones shown in stark relief under the meager light making Cath doubt she had been given any food or drink the entire time she had been there. Her normally olive skin was so sallow and pale the blonde was sure if she were closer she would be able to see the intricate network veins running beneath. In short the formally healthy and whole young woman looked like a zombie, like the walking dead.
Sara was wearing shorts and a small white tank top that only accentuated the dark bruises covering her body. Catherine had to close her eyes as she noticed cuts running up and down the brunette’s long legs. Tears were burning to be shed at the thought of the many horrors the young woman had been made to endure at the hands of the madman standing behind her.
Michael smirked at the look in the blonde’s eyes. She was hurting for his Sara but she wasn’t yet afraid of her. That would soon change. “I have a gift for you my love. Take a long look at her, she belongs to you.”
Sara raised her eyes where the voice directed her and felt something stir within her. It was a brief flash, almost a memory, then it was gone. She grasped at it desperately wanting something other than the murky cloud that surrounded her. It was so hard to think, to feel anything other than the dull ache of her body. He had given her something, something for the pain he said. It had eased the agony but it had also wrapped her mind in a thick shroud of darkness that she couldn’t seem to penetrate. All she could do walk were he told her to walk, stand where he told her to stand, do what he told her to do.
“She’s the one that has caused you all this pain. She’s just like your mother Sara. She degrades you, she hurts you, she makes you feel like nothing. She’s the reason you’re here.” Michael told her softly, his lips only a breath away from her ear.
Sara shook her head. He was always talking about her parents, making her tell him about the horrible things they had done. She didn’t want to remember them and what had happened in that house, remembering brought back all the hurt they had heaped upon her tiny body and young mind. The woman in front of her was familiar, but she couldn’t seem to place her. How could the blonde have treated her like her mother did and her not remember it?
“Yes she is.” Thomas took her movement as denial. “How many times has she put you down? How many times did you reach out only to be kicked away like a dog?” It was amazing what he had learned about the two women’s relationship after a few sessions with Sara. “She’s like your father too. She wants to hit you, to break your bones, she wants to kill you.”
Another flash, this one deeper, crisper, clearer. ‘I admit there have been times I’ve wanted to shake you senseless when you get so wrapped up in a case that you forget that anything else exists. I have entertained thoughts of strangling you when your attitude gets out of control. Once I even had a daydream of bending you over my knee and spanking you for acting like an overgrown petulant child.’ Could it be true? Was it a memory or just a nightmare? Could the woman in front of her have told her that? Sara couldn’t be sure but it seemed to ring true. Something about the blonde was sending mixed signals bouncing through her battered mind. She made her feel angry, scared and safe all at the same time. But which emotion could she trust?
He could see a spark of recognition in her eyes. “You’re almost there.” Michael whispered in the brunette’s ear. “I know you want her, reach out and take what you want. She can’t deny you now, won’t deny you. Look at her, she’s waiting for you Sara.”
She shook her head. This was wrong, but it was true. She could feel her hands shaking, wanting to obey. There was something clawing at the back of her head, trying to dig its way out, something that screeched and wailed. But Sara wasn’t sure if it wanted her to do as he said or if it was trying to stop her.
“You’ve wanted her, loved her, for five years and for five long years she has stabbed you in the heart. She whored herself to thousands of men, selling her body to their eyes. She gives everyone around you a piece of herself, but for you? Nothing. Not a kind word, not a pat on the shoulder, not even glance in your direction. Take her. Take her now. End your pain.” His voice rose with each word until he was nearly screaming. He was so close, so very close, to having everything he wanted, to attaining his iny
“No.” Sara’s voice was raw. The screams that had been tore from her throat had ripped and shredded it until it wasn’t even recognizable as hers. “I can’t.”
“You can! It’s the last step and you will be reborn. All the pain will end, no one will ever be able to touch you again, to hurt you. It’s already there inside you Sara. Your father beat his family and his violence lives within you. Your mother murdered him and her blood pumps through your veins. You are a born killer, designed by nature and nurtured by pain. I helped you along your path the night I took you. Your soul has festered, rotted and decayed, until I came back to complete metamorphosis.” Michael knew she wanted it, he could see it in her eyes. The desire was shining brighter than the sun. All she had to do was overcome that last shred of what weak people who were too afraid to take what they wanted in life called humanity.
Catherine couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was no way that any of that could be true. Could it? ‘You know ... every time we get a case with a hint of domestic violence or abuse, you go off the deep end. What is your problem?’ Suddenly her own words were coming back to haunt to her. There had been huge neon signs hanging over Sara’s head and she hadn’t put the pieces together. This was what the brunette and Grissom had alluded to back in the lab. Regret and guilt forced her eyes closed for a second and Catherine vowed that if she got the chance, she would make up every cross word, barb and cold shoulder she had ever thrown the younger woman’s way.
She opened her eyes just in time to see Thomas give the brunette a shove, making her stumble forward. Sara came to stop just before she crashed into her, their faces mere inches from each other. Catherine tried to catch her gaze, tried to communicate with her, tell her not to do what he wanted but the normally shining eyes were flat, dead. It was as if Sara wasn’t even there, and her body was walking around on its own.
“Touch her,” Michael demanded his voice forceful and hard.
Sara could see her arm rising without her consent. The thing just seemed to have a will of its own. She wanted to stop but could only watch as it reached out for the blonde in front of her. The feel of the soft downy cheek under her fingers sent a bolt of lighting through her and she regained control of her traitorous limb and snatched it away before it could betray her again. There were so many conflicting emotions running rampart through her she didn’t know what to feel. She wanted to touch this woman, was drawn to her, but she knew it was wrong. Guilt was clashing with desire and she didn’t know which would win.
Michael stepped up beside his protégé. Finally she was giving in. A few more minutes and she would be his forever. He drew his knife and began cutting the buttons off the blonde’s still damp shirt. “Touch her there.”
Once again there was no will, just action. Sara had learned to obey, when she did as she was told, the pain was taken away. But she also wanted to do as she was told, wanted to feel that soft skin again. Her hand was shaking as she let it run down the woman’s body, between the valley of her generous breasts and over her toned stomach before falling away at the waistband of her jeans. The guilt returned a thousand fold but it didn’t stop the pleasure she felt from touching the blonde.
Sara was mesmerized by the rapid rise and fall of the woman’s chest and everything else melted into the background until she felt something cold and hard being pressed into her hand. She looked down and the knife ensnared her. She had seen one like it before, big and wickedly sharp.
Her father had been sprawled on the bed, passed out drunk once again, unaware that death was stalking him. Her mother stood next to him, a warped smile distorting her face into a demented caricature. Sara cowered in the corner Laura Sidle had thrown her in, hoping that the enraged woman wouldn’t remember that she was there, wouldn’t come for her too. The knife flashed sliver in the moonlight, winked at her, and like a beacon it drew her eyes as it rose swiftly in the air. Crimson sprang from the gash in his chest, staining his white t-shirt. The knife rose again, covered in gore and dripping blood. As her mother plunged the blade into her father over and over the viscous liquid flew off it, covering her mother, the walls and even her own thin body.
“Cut the rest off of her.”
The voice was cold, but it was also excited as it pulled her out of the memory. Sara looked up into tearful blue eyes filled with fear, fear of her. Something dark twisted and snapped deep within her soul and she raised her hand.
Catherine wanted to close her eyes, she wanted all this to be a horrible nightmare. But it wasn’t. Sara was standing before her with a knife in her hand looking like she was ready to kill her, wanted to kill her. When the brunette had touched her it was as if she didn’t even realize she was doing it, like she was a puppet on a string, a life sized marionette. Even then she didn’t think Sara would hurt her, couldn’t believe that the tall brunette would ever harm her. Now Sara’s dead eyes were alive again and burning with a hatred she could never have imagined in the normally soft brown depths. Now she wasn’t just afraid of her, she was terrified.
The move when it came was so fast Cath could hardly follow it. She didn’t even have time to blink as Sara whirled, knife raised, and sank the blade into their tormentor’s shoulder with a strangled growl. She fell on him, striking out with her fists, raining down blows in quick succession. It was as if she was trying to return every hit he had given to her, every ounce of pain she had suffered at his hands. The fury erupting from the young woman was frightening to see but Willows was glad that it was being directed at him.
Sara hit until she could no longer raise her fists. She looked at the knife still stuck in Michael’s shoulder and thought about pulling it out and shoving it into his black heart but stopped herself. If she did that, she would be lost forever. She stood up and stepped away so she wouldn’t be tempted again. “I told you that you would never make me like you. I am not a rapist, I am not a killer.”
Catherine felt hot tears burning their way down her face. She wasn’t sure if it was relief that it was over or grief at how close Sara had come to becoming the things she hated the most.
It was the fear in the blonde’s eyes that had cut through the fog blanketing her mind and brought Sara back to herself. She had never wanted to inspire that in anyone. She had been afraid all her life, first of her parents, then Michael Thomas and men like him, then everyone. She had never made anyone fear her and it made her physically ill to think that she had evoked that emotion in Catherine.
Cath was still crying as Sara released her wrists. She fell into the younger woman needing to feel her, needing reassurance that their ordeal was truly over and that the brunette was all right. She became aware as her sobs lessened that the lithe woman was saying she was sorry, over and over again. She leaned back and brought her hands up to cup Sara’s remarkably untouched face. “It’s okay sweetheart, everything’s all right. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Catherine was forgiving her, how could she after what she had almost done, after everything she had allowed to happen? She searched the blonde’s eyes and saw that the fear was gone, replaced by relief and tenderness. She didn’t deserve it.
Catherine was confused as Sara pushed off her and backed away shaking her head. “Sara what is it? What’s wrong?”
Sara held up her hands to ward the blonde off. She couldn’t be near her, not now, she couldn’t be trusted. “Please Cat, just stay away. You have to stay away from me.”
Catherine wanted to go to her, hold her, take away all her fear and pain. But before she could take a step forward or convince the younger woman to let her help her, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. “Sara look out!”
Whirling at the blonde’s scream, Sara found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. She backed up slowly, trying to put herself between Thomas and Catherine. She hadn’t been able to protect her before, she was going to make sure she did it now, even if it was only for a few seconds.
Cath stared at the gun over Sara’s shoulder. She recognized the Glock 9mm. Of course she ought to, it was the gun she carried nearly every day. He was going to shoot them with her own piece.
“You stupid bitch. You betrayed me for that whoring piece of shit? I was going to make you a queen among the swine of this world. Now you have to die, but you’ll watch this slut die first.” Michael was enraged. Sara was supposed to be his mate, the other half of his soul, his perfect woman. Instead she had become his Judas.
Sara turned and pulled Catherine to her, covering her with her own body a split second before an inferno ripped through her shoulder.
TBC