A Collection of CSI Drabbles
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, premises of or anything to do with the television show, CSI. I make no financial gain from the production of this twisted tale. All recognizable material is the property of the creators and the television networks who hold the contract rights there of. All "original" characters are fictional and any similarities to existing or deceased (or other fictional) persons is completely coincidental and no harm is meant.Rated T for Teen
Author's Note: It's been a while since I've put out anything that wasn't massive. I just sort of wanted to get back to a simple, strait forward sort of writing. Obviously, I've not gotten out of my 'doom and gloom' kick, though I am working on it.
This is un-betaed, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.
I would love to hear feedback on this. Love it, hate it, who are you and what have you done with the real RebelByrdie, whatever pops into your head.
The following is a series of first person drabbles, each grieving over a loss. The identity of each person is rather self evident, but just in case:
I: Guilt - Nick Stokes
II: The Sketch Book - Sofia Curtis
III: The Tomorrow That Never Came - Gil Grissom
IV: Full Circle - Al Robbins
V: A Thousand Reasons - Catherine Willows
VI: My Girls Always Leave Me - Jim Brass
VII: Desert Sunset - Warrick Brown
VIII: You're Still Here - Greg Sanders
Warning: Character Death
It's my fault. I let her down. I should have never let her go in there alone. I knew we were in a bad part of town, but I let my gut over ride my head. She went in while I was filling up both our cars. I was headed back to the lab with evidence and she was headed out with the tow crew to get the car. It was all business as usual.
Until those bastards in masks. I didn't notice them on the way in. I was cursing the oil companies as I watched the numbers add up. I saw them coming out, though. I heard the shots, so many gunshots and then I saw the perp run out, a bloody grocery sack of money in his hands, and jump in the car. For a moment I froze.
I am a CSI, a member of law enforcement, and I froze. My second's worth of hesitation may have been the second the paramedics needed to save her. I'll never forgive myself.
They all look at me, with something that's very close to hate simmering in their eyes. They know it's my fault, I know it's my fault. We just keep telling the lie, though. That damn lie keeps us going. The knowledge that she died saving someone else is somehow supposed to comfort me, or so they say. The truth is, when you get down to it. It's my fault. It should have been me. Sara Sidle didn't die protecting a little boy. She died getting me a microwave burrito and a Coke. It should have been me. I'm so sorry, Sunshine, it should have been me.