Don't Shoot Me; I'm Only the Piano Player (Warrick/Sara)
- Thread starter quoth_the_raven
- Start date
Cordelia_GRS_Fan
CSI Level Two
OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG DON'T LEAVE IT THERE!!!!! WARRICK NEEDS TO RUN IN, SHOOT TREY AND SAVE SARA!!! We need more, like, NOW!!! Pleeeeeeeeeease!!!!
Fab writing, as per usual, you really have me sucked in! This is one of my all-time favorite fics!
lovelove
Xx Mia-Sara xX
Fab writing, as per usual, you really have me sucked in! This is one of my all-time favorite fics!
lovelove
Xx Mia-Sara xX
quoth_the_raven
Corpse
Thank you so much guys 
I'll update soon, I'm still trying to figure out a few things for the next chapter!
I'll update soon, I'm still trying to figure out a few things for the next chapter!quoth_the_raven
Corpse
Here's the next chapter, sorry for the wait!
Never look into their eyes.
Sara continued to silently chant this message as Trey tore off a large portion of her dress with an agonizing-sounding rip. She shuddered as a cold breeze brushed against the newly-exposed part of her legs, sending shivers up her spine that in turn brought a sickening wave of nausea. The last message she was able to utter was a desperate scream for Warrick; the sound had died in her throat along with any other hope she had left that she was going to get out of this.
She could feel Trey’s legs crushing her sides as he straddled her waist unmercifully; one strong arm sprawled across her waist to hold her hips down and to stop her pitiful attempts of escape. The only sound in the room was the sound of Trey’s ragged breathing as his hands traveled up and down Sara’s body, touching, squeezing, caressing any skin they came in contact with.
“I never imagined how beautiful you would be,” Trey growled, the anger still in his tone. “And you let him have you?” he hissed, one of his hands creeping under the opening of her dress between her legs.
“Stop it,” Sara finally managed to whisper, a tear descending down her cheek as she felt his hand slide up her stomach. Only Warrick could touch her like that. Warrick’s touch was soft and loving and gentle, a touch that she craved almost more than anything else, and this bastard’s touch was rough and demanding and cold. And the worst part of it, Sara knew, was that she couldn’t do anything to stop him from tainting her body with his filthy hands.
“You don’t mean that,” Trey told her, “You want this…every second of it,” he murmured, his hand slowly tracing across her stomach. “So shut up and enjoy it.”
An angry tear fell down Sara’s face as he towered over her and leaned down, pressing his body to hers. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and she let out an estranged cry as she was once again reminded of exactly what was going to happen to her. “Please don’t do this,” Sara whispered.
“Why…?” Trey asked. For a minute Sara felt relief swarm her body as his hands stopped in mid-grope until he was staring directly into her eyes, his gaze haunting. “This is what you want,” he hissed. “I’m giving it to you exactly the way you want it.”
“I don’t want you to, and I never have,” Sara said in a tone much more confident than she actually was. She balled her hands that were pinned to her sides into fists so she would not start shaking as she met his gaze.
Trey looked down at her, hurt flashing in his eyes for a brief moment. “All those times I touched you…” he whispered, bringing his hand up and brushing it against her cheek. “All those times…” She shuddered as she felt his breath on her neck. “You were enjoying every minute of it…”’
“No I wasn’t!” Sara said, jerking her body against his to try and buck him off of her. She wasn’t sure what it was- the fact that he had temporarily stopped touching her or that what he was saying was lies, but she suddenly felt the need to fight grow stronger.
“Bitch,” he hissed, immediately changing his mind and throwing his body down against hers, completely cutting off her ability to move as his weight suffocated her. “You want me,” he whispered into her ear, “And now you’re going to get me.”
“No one wants you,” Sara managed to whisper before she was able to stop herself. At that moment she cursed her stubbornness and knack for insulting and witty comebacks and remarks when smartass suspects set her off. But right now, this wasn’t an interrogation, and that realization was more than anything Sara had ever bargained for. She wasn’t sitting at the cold steel table across from a suspect with a uniform in the room by the door and Brass by her side. She was alone with this… monster, and she was the victim.
Only Warrick could save her from becoming a victim.
Opening her mouth to yell, Sara practically gagged as Trey took full advantage and forcefully pressed his mouth to hers, shoving his tongue deep inside her mouth as his hands began to move again. She tried to push him off of her as best she could but he only held onto her even tighter, his long skinny pianist fingers wrapping completely around her tiny wrists. When he moved away the only thing she was able to let out was a strangled cry of “War—“ before his mouth claimed hers against roughly.
Save me, Warrick, Sara thought to herself as she shut her eyes in attempt to detach herself from what she was currently being put through but mentally and physically. But she couldn’t, she realized, she couldn’t stop herself from fearing the inevitable, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling his hands on her body. She couldn’t… because she wasn’t strong enough. She couldn’t do it without Warrick.
She felt Trey’s hands push her back down onto the ground as she tried to escape once again, her head snapping back violently as brown hair rained down upon her face. Reaching down with his hand, Trey brushed her hair out of her eyes almost tenderly as he gazed into her terrified eyes. Brushing his hand against her cheek he smiled down at her before he caught another glimpse of the mark Warrick had left on her skin earlier that night, the mark Sara coveted among most anything else.
He growled angrily and Sara could see the hatred in his eyes once more as he looked at her, his lips curled over his teeth in a snarl. “You let him mark you,” he hissed, “Why?” he demanded of her, his booming voice echoing throughout the office.
“Because I love him,” Sara whispered, returning his unwavering gaze in defiance.
He growled again, grasping her neck with his two large hands. “Don’t you dare…” he whispered, “Don’t you dare say that!”
Sara realized that she would probably get into even more trouble than she was already in if she said it again, but she loved Warrick more than anything or anyone else in the world, and she was not going to lie about that. Warrick was her entire life, and without him she knew she would slowly wither away and die like a flower desperate for water. She wouldn’t only be lying to herself if she didn’t say she loved Warrick, she would be lying to Warrick himself. And she was not prepared to do that.
“I love Warrick,” Sara whispered again, the determination and passion she had for him evident in her eyes.
And Sara pulled the trigger and set off the gun that was Trey’s wrath. Before she was able to comprehend what was happening he had slapped her across the face once more, her head snapping to her left as she felt him tugging at her clothes. She felt the sinking sensation in her stomach present again that had seemed to disappear for a few moments before and truly realized what sort of situation she was in.
But this wasn’t right. Only Warrick could see her this way.
Sara felt another tear run down her face as she heard a zipper being undone, bracing herself for his entry, for the burning, agonizing pain that was rape. But she didn’t realize that the sound was coming from her own dress until Trey had begun tugging it down her shoulders. As she felt another cold burst of air brush against the now-exposed parts of her body she felt adrenaline surge through her offering one last burst of energy, her last attempt at escaping him.
But you couldn’t always escape the Boogeyman.
Trey had her thighs in his hands and they slowly slid up, touching her in the one place she was dreading the most. More tears fell down her face as she was helpless to stop him from hurting her, shuddering at the feeling of his hands against her. Tears blurred her vision as she felt him slide her underwear down her legs to her ankles, the fabric leaving a burning sensation along her calves, the sting of fear shooting throughout her entire body.
As a river of tears flooded her eyes and descended down her cheeks Sara let out one final cry as she felt his finger violently, brutally tear its way inside of her.
“I’m sorry about the wait, Sir,” the bartender told Warrick, handing him the chilled bottle of wine he had asked for over thirty minutes ago. “On the house,” he told him, shooting him a small smile that betrayed the disappointment of not getting a tip that he was actually feeling.
“Thanks,” Warrick said, a smile once again gracing his lips. Despite the amount of time it actually took to get the bottle he now held in his hands, he felt it was well worth the wait. All he could think about was the look on Sara’s face as he scooped her up into his arms from behind, already hearing her teasing remarks she would give him as he carried her out of the club.
With a smile Warrick headed to the back of the club where Sara had been unhooking the equipment from the performance, every now and then dodging the swaying drunks that proved to be obstacles on his way toward Sara. It was like the light at the end of the tunnel for Warrick whenever he saw Sara; she was his light. She was his everything. She was a goddess, a beautifully perfect descendent of God that had chosen him.
Warrick wanted nothing else but to spoil Sara silly for the entire weekend. If she wanted something at 3 am in the morning, he would run out to every grocery store in town until he found it. He loved her more than anything else and he wanted to show her exactly how grateful he was for her being in his life.
Humming a cheerful tune to himself, Warrick headed over to the back of the club with a grin on his face. “Hey Sara…” he teased, poking his head around the corner. He frowned when he saw that she wasn’t in the same place she had been when he had left her. A small smile crept its way around the corners of his mouth as he assumed she was hiding. “Come on, Sara… don’t make me beg…” he said, looking down at the outlets she had been kneeled down in front of before.
They weren’t all unplugged.
Warrick frowned, swallowing hard as a wave of panic began to wash over him. “Sara?” he asked, looking around, almost forgetting about the bottle of wine in his hands. “Sara?” he asked a bit louder, his voice growing louder than the music blaring from the speakers just to the right of him.
Then he spotted the door just in front of him. He thought he heard something coming from inside… voices. Putting his ear against the door, his eyes widened when he heard sobbing.
Sara’s sobs.
The bottle of wine in his hands dropped to the floor, shattering into pieces onto the ground as he heard her whimpers and cries coming from the closed door in front of him.
“SARA!” Warrick yelled, pounding on the door with his fists, cursing himself for leaving her alone. Goddamn it, why had he left her alone?
“Warrick,” he heard her whisper from inside, “Warrick, help me, please.”
Without another thought Warrick backed up and kicked the door open which practically flew off its hinges as he stormed inside. The sight of Sara on the floor in tears made him almost lose it right then and there. A pained expression etched on her face was all the other motivation Warrick needed to pummel the man who was sitting on top of her.
Pure rage filled Warrick’s eyes as he shoved the man who was still continuing his assault on the woman he loved off of her, watching as he tumbled to the floor. Before he was able to even look at Warrick he had straddled his waist and was punching the man in the face with his fists.
But before he was able to knock the man into unconsciousness, Warrick felt a light tugging on his sleeve. Turning around with a scowl on his face and hatred and anger in his eyes, Warrick’s eyes and features immediately softened as he noticed that it was Sara, her tear-stained eyes almost pleading with him. She looked so weak, and when she moved to crawl toward him she tumbled over.
Warrick immediately engulfed her in his arms, scooping her up into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly and protectively around her. Kissing the top of her head, the only sounds that filled the room were Sara’s pained sobs. “I’m so sorry, Sara,” Warrick whispered, gently rubbing her back, “I’m so, so sorry…”
The shattered bottle of wine in the doorway lay broken and forgotten as the liquid poured into the room, becoming mixed with Sara’s tears.
Never look into their eyes.
Sara continued to silently chant this message as Trey tore off a large portion of her dress with an agonizing-sounding rip. She shuddered as a cold breeze brushed against the newly-exposed part of her legs, sending shivers up her spine that in turn brought a sickening wave of nausea. The last message she was able to utter was a desperate scream for Warrick; the sound had died in her throat along with any other hope she had left that she was going to get out of this.
She could feel Trey’s legs crushing her sides as he straddled her waist unmercifully; one strong arm sprawled across her waist to hold her hips down and to stop her pitiful attempts of escape. The only sound in the room was the sound of Trey’s ragged breathing as his hands traveled up and down Sara’s body, touching, squeezing, caressing any skin they came in contact with.
“I never imagined how beautiful you would be,” Trey growled, the anger still in his tone. “And you let him have you?” he hissed, one of his hands creeping under the opening of her dress between her legs.
“Stop it,” Sara finally managed to whisper, a tear descending down her cheek as she felt his hand slide up her stomach. Only Warrick could touch her like that. Warrick’s touch was soft and loving and gentle, a touch that she craved almost more than anything else, and this bastard’s touch was rough and demanding and cold. And the worst part of it, Sara knew, was that she couldn’t do anything to stop him from tainting her body with his filthy hands.
“You don’t mean that,” Trey told her, “You want this…every second of it,” he murmured, his hand slowly tracing across her stomach. “So shut up and enjoy it.”
An angry tear fell down Sara’s face as he towered over her and leaned down, pressing his body to hers. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and she let out an estranged cry as she was once again reminded of exactly what was going to happen to her. “Please don’t do this,” Sara whispered.
“Why…?” Trey asked. For a minute Sara felt relief swarm her body as his hands stopped in mid-grope until he was staring directly into her eyes, his gaze haunting. “This is what you want,” he hissed. “I’m giving it to you exactly the way you want it.”
“I don’t want you to, and I never have,” Sara said in a tone much more confident than she actually was. She balled her hands that were pinned to her sides into fists so she would not start shaking as she met his gaze.
Trey looked down at her, hurt flashing in his eyes for a brief moment. “All those times I touched you…” he whispered, bringing his hand up and brushing it against her cheek. “All those times…” She shuddered as she felt his breath on her neck. “You were enjoying every minute of it…”’
“No I wasn’t!” Sara said, jerking her body against his to try and buck him off of her. She wasn’t sure what it was- the fact that he had temporarily stopped touching her or that what he was saying was lies, but she suddenly felt the need to fight grow stronger.
“Bitch,” he hissed, immediately changing his mind and throwing his body down against hers, completely cutting off her ability to move as his weight suffocated her. “You want me,” he whispered into her ear, “And now you’re going to get me.”
“No one wants you,” Sara managed to whisper before she was able to stop herself. At that moment she cursed her stubbornness and knack for insulting and witty comebacks and remarks when smartass suspects set her off. But right now, this wasn’t an interrogation, and that realization was more than anything Sara had ever bargained for. She wasn’t sitting at the cold steel table across from a suspect with a uniform in the room by the door and Brass by her side. She was alone with this… monster, and she was the victim.
Only Warrick could save her from becoming a victim.
Opening her mouth to yell, Sara practically gagged as Trey took full advantage and forcefully pressed his mouth to hers, shoving his tongue deep inside her mouth as his hands began to move again. She tried to push him off of her as best she could but he only held onto her even tighter, his long skinny pianist fingers wrapping completely around her tiny wrists. When he moved away the only thing she was able to let out was a strangled cry of “War—“ before his mouth claimed hers against roughly.
Save me, Warrick, Sara thought to herself as she shut her eyes in attempt to detach herself from what she was currently being put through but mentally and physically. But she couldn’t, she realized, she couldn’t stop herself from fearing the inevitable, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling his hands on her body. She couldn’t… because she wasn’t strong enough. She couldn’t do it without Warrick.
She felt Trey’s hands push her back down onto the ground as she tried to escape once again, her head snapping back violently as brown hair rained down upon her face. Reaching down with his hand, Trey brushed her hair out of her eyes almost tenderly as he gazed into her terrified eyes. Brushing his hand against her cheek he smiled down at her before he caught another glimpse of the mark Warrick had left on her skin earlier that night, the mark Sara coveted among most anything else.
He growled angrily and Sara could see the hatred in his eyes once more as he looked at her, his lips curled over his teeth in a snarl. “You let him mark you,” he hissed, “Why?” he demanded of her, his booming voice echoing throughout the office.
“Because I love him,” Sara whispered, returning his unwavering gaze in defiance.
He growled again, grasping her neck with his two large hands. “Don’t you dare…” he whispered, “Don’t you dare say that!”
Sara realized that she would probably get into even more trouble than she was already in if she said it again, but she loved Warrick more than anything or anyone else in the world, and she was not going to lie about that. Warrick was her entire life, and without him she knew she would slowly wither away and die like a flower desperate for water. She wouldn’t only be lying to herself if she didn’t say she loved Warrick, she would be lying to Warrick himself. And she was not prepared to do that.
“I love Warrick,” Sara whispered again, the determination and passion she had for him evident in her eyes.
And Sara pulled the trigger and set off the gun that was Trey’s wrath. Before she was able to comprehend what was happening he had slapped her across the face once more, her head snapping to her left as she felt him tugging at her clothes. She felt the sinking sensation in her stomach present again that had seemed to disappear for a few moments before and truly realized what sort of situation she was in.
But this wasn’t right. Only Warrick could see her this way.
Sara felt another tear run down her face as she heard a zipper being undone, bracing herself for his entry, for the burning, agonizing pain that was rape. But she didn’t realize that the sound was coming from her own dress until Trey had begun tugging it down her shoulders. As she felt another cold burst of air brush against the now-exposed parts of her body she felt adrenaline surge through her offering one last burst of energy, her last attempt at escaping him.
But you couldn’t always escape the Boogeyman.
Trey had her thighs in his hands and they slowly slid up, touching her in the one place she was dreading the most. More tears fell down her face as she was helpless to stop him from hurting her, shuddering at the feeling of his hands against her. Tears blurred her vision as she felt him slide her underwear down her legs to her ankles, the fabric leaving a burning sensation along her calves, the sting of fear shooting throughout her entire body.
As a river of tears flooded her eyes and descended down her cheeks Sara let out one final cry as she felt his finger violently, brutally tear its way inside of her.
“I’m sorry about the wait, Sir,” the bartender told Warrick, handing him the chilled bottle of wine he had asked for over thirty minutes ago. “On the house,” he told him, shooting him a small smile that betrayed the disappointment of not getting a tip that he was actually feeling.
“Thanks,” Warrick said, a smile once again gracing his lips. Despite the amount of time it actually took to get the bottle he now held in his hands, he felt it was well worth the wait. All he could think about was the look on Sara’s face as he scooped her up into his arms from behind, already hearing her teasing remarks she would give him as he carried her out of the club.
With a smile Warrick headed to the back of the club where Sara had been unhooking the equipment from the performance, every now and then dodging the swaying drunks that proved to be obstacles on his way toward Sara. It was like the light at the end of the tunnel for Warrick whenever he saw Sara; she was his light. She was his everything. She was a goddess, a beautifully perfect descendent of God that had chosen him.
Warrick wanted nothing else but to spoil Sara silly for the entire weekend. If she wanted something at 3 am in the morning, he would run out to every grocery store in town until he found it. He loved her more than anything else and he wanted to show her exactly how grateful he was for her being in his life.
Humming a cheerful tune to himself, Warrick headed over to the back of the club with a grin on his face. “Hey Sara…” he teased, poking his head around the corner. He frowned when he saw that she wasn’t in the same place she had been when he had left her. A small smile crept its way around the corners of his mouth as he assumed she was hiding. “Come on, Sara… don’t make me beg…” he said, looking down at the outlets she had been kneeled down in front of before.
They weren’t all unplugged.
Warrick frowned, swallowing hard as a wave of panic began to wash over him. “Sara?” he asked, looking around, almost forgetting about the bottle of wine in his hands. “Sara?” he asked a bit louder, his voice growing louder than the music blaring from the speakers just to the right of him.
Then he spotted the door just in front of him. He thought he heard something coming from inside… voices. Putting his ear against the door, his eyes widened when he heard sobbing.
Sara’s sobs.
The bottle of wine in his hands dropped to the floor, shattering into pieces onto the ground as he heard her whimpers and cries coming from the closed door in front of him.
“SARA!” Warrick yelled, pounding on the door with his fists, cursing himself for leaving her alone. Goddamn it, why had he left her alone?
“Warrick,” he heard her whisper from inside, “Warrick, help me, please.”
Without another thought Warrick backed up and kicked the door open which practically flew off its hinges as he stormed inside. The sight of Sara on the floor in tears made him almost lose it right then and there. A pained expression etched on her face was all the other motivation Warrick needed to pummel the man who was sitting on top of her.
Pure rage filled Warrick’s eyes as he shoved the man who was still continuing his assault on the woman he loved off of her, watching as he tumbled to the floor. Before he was able to even look at Warrick he had straddled his waist and was punching the man in the face with his fists.
But before he was able to knock the man into unconsciousness, Warrick felt a light tugging on his sleeve. Turning around with a scowl on his face and hatred and anger in his eyes, Warrick’s eyes and features immediately softened as he noticed that it was Sara, her tear-stained eyes almost pleading with him. She looked so weak, and when she moved to crawl toward him she tumbled over.
Warrick immediately engulfed her in his arms, scooping her up into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly and protectively around her. Kissing the top of her head, the only sounds that filled the room were Sara’s pained sobs. “I’m so sorry, Sara,” Warrick whispered, gently rubbing her back, “I’m so, so sorry…”
The shattered bottle of wine in the doorway lay broken and forgotten as the liquid poured into the room, becoming mixed with Sara’s tears.
quoth_the_raven
Corpse
Tini said:
God, Raven you did it again *shakes head* and don`t play dumb, you know exactly what I`m talking about! Shame on you!!!!! :lol:
I give you one chance to make it better in your next chapter.
Oh no, you caught me! :lol: :lol: *runs and hides in bushes* Don't hurt me!! :lol:
Zan, don't be coy, you know exactly what's going to happen
quoth_the_raven
Corpse
New chapter finally! Sorry guys, I went on vacation for two weeks
Her entire body ached… why did it hurt so much to move? All Sara could focus on was the pain she was feeling- for a second or two she forgot all about how she got these injuries. All she could focus on was the pain and fear she felt…and how good the warmth emanating from the two strong arms around her felt.
Then she remembered and the clod of pain that had been fogging her mind evaporated. This was his scent, and that was all she needed before she broke down into more gut-wracking sobs. It hurt… god it hurt, and all she wanted was for him to take the pain away. Her hands squeezed his shirt collar painfully as she cried into his chest, her tears staining his white dress shirt.
“Sara…” he finally whispered. “It’s okay…” But that was a lie and he knew it. Nothing was okay. Not anymore. Not only had he left the most important person in his life alone in a dangerous place- the place he swore she would never go back to, nonetheless- because he was too busy worrying about some godforsaken wine, the bastard who had caused Sara so much pain was too close. Too close to both of them. Even Warrick wanted him out of his sight; the mere glimpse of a human being this repulsive made his stomach turn with nausea and his knuckles turn white with pent-up anger and revulsion.
And the realization that Warrick had let this happen to Sara was more painful than anything he had ever felt before in his life. There she was- there Sara was- this perfect, beautiful creature who had graced him with her presence for all this time, who had graced him with her love for all this time, and he let this happen to her. He wasn’t a man; he wasn’t even a person anymore. He was pathetic, and she didn’t deserve to hurt anymore.
But this wasn’t time for the Warrick Brown pity party, he knew… but if he could just—
“Warrick,” Sara whispered, speaking for the first time in what seemed like hours. This one word took more effort to ground out through Sara’s mottle of emotions than holding back her tears. She was letting them flow freely now; they were coming and she couldn’t stop them. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted them to stop anymore.
“What is it, Sara?” Warrick whispered back, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. He had to keep it together for Sara; he had to be strong for her.
“C-Can…” She bit her lip in frustration that she couldn’t even say what she wanted to without sounding terrified. But the truth was that she was still terrified. But not only terrified… there was the overwhelming sense of disgust that she felt, both with Trey and herself. And there was the horrific realization that this had happened to her. It wasn’t just a nightmare anymore. It was reality. “Can… we leave…?” she finally managed to whisper.
Idiot. He was a total idiot, Warrick thought. How was he supposed to take care of Sara if he couldn’t protect her, let alone know to take her away from the man who had hurt her the most? No, he then thought, this man, standing right in front of her, had hurt her the most. “Of course, Sara,” Warrick managed to reply. Shifting Sara in his arms, he got to his feet and started to carry her out of the room, his arms linked protectively around her waist.
He could feel her shaking in his arms, her cold, clammy skin shivering under his fingertips. Removing his jacket, Warrick carefully wrapped it around Sara’s shoulders in vain hope that somehow this 50% silk and cotton piece of clothing would take away her pain. How could someone dare lay a finger on this person with intention to harm her? Warrick didn’t understand, and all he wanted was to make the person who had suffer.
Then he heard it- a groan coming from the far corner of the room which at this moment was the deepest, darkest corner of Hell. Warrick tightened his hold on Sara as he realized they were still standing in the doorway. He was here now, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her ever again. Without so much as a turn of the head Warrick fixated his faze on the swaying figure as they got to their feet.
And there standing in the room in front of Warrick was the man responsible for causing Sara so much pain. Warrick completely forgot about himself; this man, standing right in front of him was the devil himself. Warrick’s eyes narrowed with a hatred and anger never before seen upon his face. He couldn’t protect her before… but at least now he could make sure this man never harmed anyone ever again. Now he could do the right thing.
About to take a step forward, something shimmered in the light and caught Warrick’s attention from the corner of his eye. That was when Warrick saw it- a gun. Redemption. Sweet, sweet redemption.
All the bells and alarms in Warrick’s mind were going off now, but Warrick did not hear them. He lost all traces of reality and what was rational and what was not as he stared into the metal barrel. Was that gun even there before? It were almost as if Warrick’s mind was trying to stall him for time to make him realize exactly what he was doing… or was about to do. Rational or not, Warrick didn’t seem to care.
He felt like he left his body completely; he suddenly felt very light, like he was floating above it all just observing like some celestial force above. He watched as he threw one more disgusted glance at the disoriented figure in front of him and then reached for the gun. With his free hand he grabbed it between his fingers, feeling the leather grip mold to his hand in gruff confidence. The metal barrel stared straight ahead at its target, its gaze- no, glare- unwavering. All it took was one shot. One shot…
Hearing approaching footsteps behind him, Warrick quickly slid the gun into his pants pocket, his eyes widening as he realized what he almost just did. Turning back around, Warrick squeezed Sara in his arms, getting ready to protect her from whatever or whoever it was that was walking toward them if they posed a threat. Then he noticed two uniforms running up to him, both with their hands on their holsters positioned on their hips.
“We got a call,” the younger of the two said, looking from Sara, to Warrick, to Trey who had now collapsed on the floor. “Someone said they heard screaming,” he explained, “What’s going on around here?”
“I’m with the crime lab,” Warrick immediately said, throwing a glance at Sara from the bottom corner of his eye. She was still laying in a silent huddle against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if protecting herself from the unwanted gazes of others. Its okay, Sara, Warrick thought, just don’t look at them… With his other hand Warrick reached into his pocket and flashed his badge as confirmation for the two cops. Putting it back into his pocket, Warrick felt the cold steel of the barrel of the gun under his sweaty palm. It only took one shot…
“Is anyone hurt?” the second cop asked, the veteran of the two judging by his age. Throwing a suspicious glance at Sara, the man looked back up at Warrick.
Strike three, that was the third time he had done something stupid tonight and Warrick doubted it would be the last. Because bases were loaded, and he had just struck out. So caught up in getting revenge, Warrick had neglected the one he was getting it for. “We’re going to need an ambulance,” Warrick dumbly said, holding Sara tightly to his chest, as if shielding her from the cop’s eyes. And don’t you dare stare at her…
“No,” Sara finally spoke up. All she wanted was to go home and take the longest, most painful shower of her entire life. She didn’t want to wait in a hospital for some strangers to touch her and shake their heads in pity and click their tongues in frustration with her stubborn attitude. What happened to her didn’t even qualify as rape, let alone a reason to be taken to the hospital… right?
And then Sara wondered if this was some sort of karmic lesson; justice for Pamela Adler, the rape victim she couldn’t help. Because what happened to her most definitely was rape… and everyone knew it. Sara knew it as she took samples from her prone body, she knew it the second she looked at her broken form laying motionless on the white hospital bed…and Sara was unable to get the one responsible for it for the time they deserved to serve- what was 48 months in a juvenile detention center? It was an eternity for Pamela Adler. And Sara.
Was this justice for what she had put that innocent woman through? Sara had been the stranger touching her and getting samples, she was the one. Was she any better than the perpetrator himself?
“Sara…” Warrick started, not noticing the tears falling down her face until she turned and looked at him. “Hey…” he whispered, reaching over and brushing away her tears with his fingertips. “Okay… it’s okay,” he whispered. It was her choice… and if Sara didn’t want to go to the hospital, Warrick wasn’t going to push the issue any further than he already had… and he wasn’t going to force her to do something that ultimately caused her more pain… and so far that was what all of his mistakes had done. Well he wasn’t going to do that anymore.
“I… just want to go home,” Sara whispered. She couldn’t go home. You don’t deserve to go home. You don’t deserve Warrick, either. But you deserve what HE did to you. Each thought shooting daggers into her heart, Sara squeezed her eyes tightly shut in hopes it would stop more tears from spilling over, when in reality it just made them rebel against her closed eyelids even more.
“Okay,” Warrick told her, gently planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Okay, I’ll take you home,” he whispered, pushing past both puzzled uniforms in order to exit the room. Warrick didn’t know what he was going to do exactly when he got Sara home… but he was going to try his best to make her feel comfortable again- to make her feel safe again… and to help take away her fear.
Stepping through the doorway, Warrick heard a loud crunch coming from the ground and he lifted up his shoe, sighing as he thought he had squished a bug. You’re destroying everything. But it wasn’t a bug; it was the glass from the wine bottle he had spent almost an hour trying to get from the bar in order to surprise Sara. The wine bottle he had wasted time getting while she was suffering.
Warrick swallowed down the bile that was forming in his throat as he tried to walk away merely brushing it aside… but it wasn’t working.
Walking both Sara and himself past the large crowd of people in front of him that seemed to automatically move out of his way, like he were Moses parting the seas, Warrick tried to ignore all the ‘What’s going on?’s’ and ‘is she okay’s’ coming from the crowd of people. Just ignore them, Sara… he wanted to say. Just ignore them all… But the truth was Warrick knew that everyone was staring at her like a caged animal, that everyone was going to home tonight, bursting through their front doors barely able to contain themselves as they screamed, “Honey, you will not believe what I saw tonight!”
But this made Warrick realize that maybe not going to the hospital was a good idea. If he took her the hospital… then Sara would become a victim and a name on a file. She would become ‘that Sidle woman in room 38B’ and nothing else… and Sara didn’t need that. She didn’t deserve any of this.
About to walk straight out of the club, Warrick stopped reluctantly when he felt a stubborn tugging on his shirt sleeve. Turning around, the bartender and club manager were staring at him wide-eyed, the manager’s eyes somewhat larger from his glasses magnifying his pupils. “Sir, what’s going on?” the bartender was the first to speak. “Is she alright?” he asked, motioning toward Sara.
“She be one of my best dern performers,” the club manager spoke up, taking out his handkerchief- by which the looks of it had been washed last god knows when- and blowing his nose with a loud snort. “Ya can’t just expect to take ‘er outta ‘ere like that, Son! Don’t go all willy-nilly on me!”
Sara let out a whimper the second the bartender started talking. Why had Warrick stopped? Why didn’t he keep walking? They were staring at her like she was… like she was a victim.
Warrick narrowed his eyes the moment he heard Sara’s whimper, followed by the club manager’s bad stuffy-nosed southern drawl. “You know what?” he hissed, “She’s not just a ‘she’ or a ‘performer’,” he growled, “She has a name. And I love her,” he said firmly, “So why don’t you go find someone else to be one of your dogs you keep on a leash? Because Sara’s never coming back here again,” he said harshly, storming past them and throwing the rather flimsy door open, almost blowing it clear off its hinges as he walked out of the club.
I’m sorry, Pam, Sara thought, laying flat against Warrick’s chest and shivering a little as the cold night air hit her skin despite Warrick’s jacket wrapped around her. Her eyes remained closed as she realized just exactly what that woman had to go through. Up until now to Sara it had just been a nightmare that had haunted her for the past few months, something she would pop a few pills every night to get rid of. But now Sara was living it… the nightmare had become reality.
And a few pills weren’t going to make that change.
Her entire body ached… why did it hurt so much to move? All Sara could focus on was the pain she was feeling- for a second or two she forgot all about how she got these injuries. All she could focus on was the pain and fear she felt…and how good the warmth emanating from the two strong arms around her felt.
Then she remembered and the clod of pain that had been fogging her mind evaporated. This was his scent, and that was all she needed before she broke down into more gut-wracking sobs. It hurt… god it hurt, and all she wanted was for him to take the pain away. Her hands squeezed his shirt collar painfully as she cried into his chest, her tears staining his white dress shirt.
“Sara…” he finally whispered. “It’s okay…” But that was a lie and he knew it. Nothing was okay. Not anymore. Not only had he left the most important person in his life alone in a dangerous place- the place he swore she would never go back to, nonetheless- because he was too busy worrying about some godforsaken wine, the bastard who had caused Sara so much pain was too close. Too close to both of them. Even Warrick wanted him out of his sight; the mere glimpse of a human being this repulsive made his stomach turn with nausea and his knuckles turn white with pent-up anger and revulsion.
And the realization that Warrick had let this happen to Sara was more painful than anything he had ever felt before in his life. There she was- there Sara was- this perfect, beautiful creature who had graced him with her presence for all this time, who had graced him with her love for all this time, and he let this happen to her. He wasn’t a man; he wasn’t even a person anymore. He was pathetic, and she didn’t deserve to hurt anymore.
But this wasn’t time for the Warrick Brown pity party, he knew… but if he could just—
“Warrick,” Sara whispered, speaking for the first time in what seemed like hours. This one word took more effort to ground out through Sara’s mottle of emotions than holding back her tears. She was letting them flow freely now; they were coming and she couldn’t stop them. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted them to stop anymore.
“What is it, Sara?” Warrick whispered back, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. He had to keep it together for Sara; he had to be strong for her.
“C-Can…” She bit her lip in frustration that she couldn’t even say what she wanted to without sounding terrified. But the truth was that she was still terrified. But not only terrified… there was the overwhelming sense of disgust that she felt, both with Trey and herself. And there was the horrific realization that this had happened to her. It wasn’t just a nightmare anymore. It was reality. “Can… we leave…?” she finally managed to whisper.
Idiot. He was a total idiot, Warrick thought. How was he supposed to take care of Sara if he couldn’t protect her, let alone know to take her away from the man who had hurt her the most? No, he then thought, this man, standing right in front of her, had hurt her the most. “Of course, Sara,” Warrick managed to reply. Shifting Sara in his arms, he got to his feet and started to carry her out of the room, his arms linked protectively around her waist.
He could feel her shaking in his arms, her cold, clammy skin shivering under his fingertips. Removing his jacket, Warrick carefully wrapped it around Sara’s shoulders in vain hope that somehow this 50% silk and cotton piece of clothing would take away her pain. How could someone dare lay a finger on this person with intention to harm her? Warrick didn’t understand, and all he wanted was to make the person who had suffer.
Then he heard it- a groan coming from the far corner of the room which at this moment was the deepest, darkest corner of Hell. Warrick tightened his hold on Sara as he realized they were still standing in the doorway. He was here now, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her ever again. Without so much as a turn of the head Warrick fixated his faze on the swaying figure as they got to their feet.
And there standing in the room in front of Warrick was the man responsible for causing Sara so much pain. Warrick completely forgot about himself; this man, standing right in front of him was the devil himself. Warrick’s eyes narrowed with a hatred and anger never before seen upon his face. He couldn’t protect her before… but at least now he could make sure this man never harmed anyone ever again. Now he could do the right thing.
About to take a step forward, something shimmered in the light and caught Warrick’s attention from the corner of his eye. That was when Warrick saw it- a gun. Redemption. Sweet, sweet redemption.
All the bells and alarms in Warrick’s mind were going off now, but Warrick did not hear them. He lost all traces of reality and what was rational and what was not as he stared into the metal barrel. Was that gun even there before? It were almost as if Warrick’s mind was trying to stall him for time to make him realize exactly what he was doing… or was about to do. Rational or not, Warrick didn’t seem to care.
He felt like he left his body completely; he suddenly felt very light, like he was floating above it all just observing like some celestial force above. He watched as he threw one more disgusted glance at the disoriented figure in front of him and then reached for the gun. With his free hand he grabbed it between his fingers, feeling the leather grip mold to his hand in gruff confidence. The metal barrel stared straight ahead at its target, its gaze- no, glare- unwavering. All it took was one shot. One shot…
Hearing approaching footsteps behind him, Warrick quickly slid the gun into his pants pocket, his eyes widening as he realized what he almost just did. Turning back around, Warrick squeezed Sara in his arms, getting ready to protect her from whatever or whoever it was that was walking toward them if they posed a threat. Then he noticed two uniforms running up to him, both with their hands on their holsters positioned on their hips.
“We got a call,” the younger of the two said, looking from Sara, to Warrick, to Trey who had now collapsed on the floor. “Someone said they heard screaming,” he explained, “What’s going on around here?”
“I’m with the crime lab,” Warrick immediately said, throwing a glance at Sara from the bottom corner of his eye. She was still laying in a silent huddle against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if protecting herself from the unwanted gazes of others. Its okay, Sara, Warrick thought, just don’t look at them… With his other hand Warrick reached into his pocket and flashed his badge as confirmation for the two cops. Putting it back into his pocket, Warrick felt the cold steel of the barrel of the gun under his sweaty palm. It only took one shot…
“Is anyone hurt?” the second cop asked, the veteran of the two judging by his age. Throwing a suspicious glance at Sara, the man looked back up at Warrick.
Strike three, that was the third time he had done something stupid tonight and Warrick doubted it would be the last. Because bases were loaded, and he had just struck out. So caught up in getting revenge, Warrick had neglected the one he was getting it for. “We’re going to need an ambulance,” Warrick dumbly said, holding Sara tightly to his chest, as if shielding her from the cop’s eyes. And don’t you dare stare at her…
“No,” Sara finally spoke up. All she wanted was to go home and take the longest, most painful shower of her entire life. She didn’t want to wait in a hospital for some strangers to touch her and shake their heads in pity and click their tongues in frustration with her stubborn attitude. What happened to her didn’t even qualify as rape, let alone a reason to be taken to the hospital… right?
And then Sara wondered if this was some sort of karmic lesson; justice for Pamela Adler, the rape victim she couldn’t help. Because what happened to her most definitely was rape… and everyone knew it. Sara knew it as she took samples from her prone body, she knew it the second she looked at her broken form laying motionless on the white hospital bed…and Sara was unable to get the one responsible for it for the time they deserved to serve- what was 48 months in a juvenile detention center? It was an eternity for Pamela Adler. And Sara.
Was this justice for what she had put that innocent woman through? Sara had been the stranger touching her and getting samples, she was the one. Was she any better than the perpetrator himself?
“Sara…” Warrick started, not noticing the tears falling down her face until she turned and looked at him. “Hey…” he whispered, reaching over and brushing away her tears with his fingertips. “Okay… it’s okay,” he whispered. It was her choice… and if Sara didn’t want to go to the hospital, Warrick wasn’t going to push the issue any further than he already had… and he wasn’t going to force her to do something that ultimately caused her more pain… and so far that was what all of his mistakes had done. Well he wasn’t going to do that anymore.
“I… just want to go home,” Sara whispered. She couldn’t go home. You don’t deserve to go home. You don’t deserve Warrick, either. But you deserve what HE did to you. Each thought shooting daggers into her heart, Sara squeezed her eyes tightly shut in hopes it would stop more tears from spilling over, when in reality it just made them rebel against her closed eyelids even more.
“Okay,” Warrick told her, gently planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Okay, I’ll take you home,” he whispered, pushing past both puzzled uniforms in order to exit the room. Warrick didn’t know what he was going to do exactly when he got Sara home… but he was going to try his best to make her feel comfortable again- to make her feel safe again… and to help take away her fear.
Stepping through the doorway, Warrick heard a loud crunch coming from the ground and he lifted up his shoe, sighing as he thought he had squished a bug. You’re destroying everything. But it wasn’t a bug; it was the glass from the wine bottle he had spent almost an hour trying to get from the bar in order to surprise Sara. The wine bottle he had wasted time getting while she was suffering.
Warrick swallowed down the bile that was forming in his throat as he tried to walk away merely brushing it aside… but it wasn’t working.
Walking both Sara and himself past the large crowd of people in front of him that seemed to automatically move out of his way, like he were Moses parting the seas, Warrick tried to ignore all the ‘What’s going on?’s’ and ‘is she okay’s’ coming from the crowd of people. Just ignore them, Sara… he wanted to say. Just ignore them all… But the truth was Warrick knew that everyone was staring at her like a caged animal, that everyone was going to home tonight, bursting through their front doors barely able to contain themselves as they screamed, “Honey, you will not believe what I saw tonight!”
But this made Warrick realize that maybe not going to the hospital was a good idea. If he took her the hospital… then Sara would become a victim and a name on a file. She would become ‘that Sidle woman in room 38B’ and nothing else… and Sara didn’t need that. She didn’t deserve any of this.
About to walk straight out of the club, Warrick stopped reluctantly when he felt a stubborn tugging on his shirt sleeve. Turning around, the bartender and club manager were staring at him wide-eyed, the manager’s eyes somewhat larger from his glasses magnifying his pupils. “Sir, what’s going on?” the bartender was the first to speak. “Is she alright?” he asked, motioning toward Sara.
“She be one of my best dern performers,” the club manager spoke up, taking out his handkerchief- by which the looks of it had been washed last god knows when- and blowing his nose with a loud snort. “Ya can’t just expect to take ‘er outta ‘ere like that, Son! Don’t go all willy-nilly on me!”
Sara let out a whimper the second the bartender started talking. Why had Warrick stopped? Why didn’t he keep walking? They were staring at her like she was… like she was a victim.
Warrick narrowed his eyes the moment he heard Sara’s whimper, followed by the club manager’s bad stuffy-nosed southern drawl. “You know what?” he hissed, “She’s not just a ‘she’ or a ‘performer’,” he growled, “She has a name. And I love her,” he said firmly, “So why don’t you go find someone else to be one of your dogs you keep on a leash? Because Sara’s never coming back here again,” he said harshly, storming past them and throwing the rather flimsy door open, almost blowing it clear off its hinges as he walked out of the club.
I’m sorry, Pam, Sara thought, laying flat against Warrick’s chest and shivering a little as the cold night air hit her skin despite Warrick’s jacket wrapped around her. Her eyes remained closed as she realized just exactly what that woman had to go through. Up until now to Sara it had just been a nightmare that had haunted her for the past few months, something she would pop a few pills every night to get rid of. But now Sara was living it… the nightmare had become reality.
And a few pills weren’t going to make that change.