A/N: Anything in Italic is Sara's thoughts.

I don't own CSI. I would if I could, but I can't, so I won't. tear

Chapter # 1: Exposure

Sara Sidle walked slowly down the corridor, silently wishing that no one would ask her why her eyes were a little puffy and red. She kept re-playing last night's actions in her mind and couldn't help but feel self-conscious. She pulled down the sleeves of her navy blue shirt and quickened her pace.

Sara glanced at her watch, and realized that she had come into work two hours before her shift started. Oh well, it's not like anyone's going to notice me anyway...especially Grissom. A few familiar faces smiled towards her as she walked by, and Sara waved back; emotionally tired of faking her emotions.

Sara didn't really know where she was headed, but somehow she found herself inside of the common room. Her stomach grumbled with hunger, but the only thing in the fridge was Catherine's half-eaten fruit salad and Nick's week old Chicken Wings. "Coffee it is"she mumbled to herself. Sara started the coffeemaker, added some of Greg's "Tropical Passion" beans to the machine, and waited impatiently.

An energetic young man walked into the common room.

"Hey, that's my best coffee you're using missy!" Greg said jokingly.

"I'm not in the mood Greg…" whispered Sara warningly as she turned to face him.

Greg wiped the smile off his face, and could tell that something was wrong. He hated to see Sara upset, but asking her what was wrong would only cause more problems between them.

The coffee machine beeped and Sara shut it off. "Here, let me help you with that Sara. At least let me make you a decent cup of coffee" Greg winked, hoping to ease the tension.

Sara started to say "No" but Greg was at her side in a flash. Sara was taken aback by his sudden movement and accidentally knocked half- a-dozen magazines onto the floor. Sara quickly bent down to pick them up, but Greg was already crouching down beside her. Sara reached for the magazine that was the farthest away from her, and the sleeve of her shirt inevitably went up. This time, it was Greg's turn to drop the magazines as he looked upon Sara's freshly cut wrists. The cuts were fresh, deep, and red from bleeding.

"Sara, my God! What happened?" Greg asked in udder shock. Sara didn't answer Greg's question. She was up and out of the room before Greg had time to stop her from running.

Adrenaline pumped through Sara's veins, and her eyes welled with angry tears of exposure as she ran through the empty corridor. She ran to the locker room, grabbed her purse in a frenzy, and continued running down the hall. She breathed heavily as she approached the door to her right. She stood in front on the door for a few brief moments before entering the women's washroom. This will have to do she thought.

Sara opened the door quickly and walked inside. She inspected each stall to insure that she was the only person inside of the washroom. She locked the main door, as well as the door of the stall she was in. Sara rummaged through her purse and felt a surge of anxiety as her fingers grasped a plastic bottle. Sara removed the bottle of aspirins from her purse and removed the lid. Her worst memories flashed before her eyes. Mommy, why is daddy lying on the floor? Did he hurt himself? No Sara, you father is dead. Sara placed three pills in her mouth, took a sip from her water bottle and swallowed. This is the point of no return thought Sara, as she ingested her thirteenth pill. More than twelve pills within twenty-four hours was a definite health risk.

Sara trembled each time she put more pills in her mouth and cried tears of pain. Before Sara knew it, she had taken all forty pills. Sara started shaking uncontrollably and sank to the floor. The noises around her were muffled and confusing. Grissom's face flashed before her eyes one last time. I love him and he'll never love me back. What's the point in loving someone if all it creates is more pain? Sara's vision blurred and she closed her eyes. Death no longer scared her, and she felt herself sink into oblivion. The washroom was filled with a reverberating silence. Only the faint echo of Sara's weak heartbeat could be heard inside the empty washroom.