Brown Eyes

A brand new, multi-chapter story dedicated to one of my most favourite people in the whole world on her birthday.

For CSIsnickers101, I'm so sorry this is a sad start to the story, I promise it will get happier and in the end there will be life-long snicker love. I hope you have a great birthday, you deserve the world! Lots of love, Bee. xxxxxxxx


On the twenty fourth of September, 1984, Gillian Stokes birthed a tiny, brown eyed baby boy. The seventh and final addition to their large family. Nicholas Stokes was born a healthy baby, a perfect weight and the perfect size to fit in the crook of his mother's arms. His father stood outside the hospital room, pacing back and forth, a skip in his step, a beaming smile on his face and a phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. He was delighted to have another baby boy, already planning the things he would teach him, the father and son days out, the nights spent fishing and the days spent working on the farm, it was his dream to have a family of sons he could teach to be like himself and after five girls and only one son, he was over the moon to have another. A bond between a father and son is said to be the most treasured things in live and the baby boy in his mothers eyes made Bill Stokes feel like the luckiest man in the world. He had the same family features, auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was perfection in the tiniest form.

On the eighth of October, 1984 Laura Sidle birthed a baby girl, the second of her children. Sara Sidle was born three weeks premature, undernourished and had several infections that made the Doctor's fear for the little girl's life. Her mother never got to hold her neither did her father, she was kept in a 'tank' and was never visited by her parents who were far too busy with their bed and breakfast to bother with a 'weak' little girl who had been an unpleasant surprise eight months ago. Her mother viewed the brown eyed baby as an accident, a mistake and her father saw the little girl as an unwanted brute, the product of her mother's 'sleeping around' despite the fact the baby was his. Their darling daughter lay so innocent yet unwanted on her death bed but her parents didn't care, they were trying to run a business and had Doctors pressing about insurance and payments. Money in which they didn't have.

-Brown Eyes-

"Quiet," her big brother demanded, pinning her down onto his bed with his heavy hands, clasping his large fingers around her stick-like arms.

She whimpered and protested that he was hurting her, her bright chocolate eyes glazed with salty tears that trickled down her chipped porcelain face, over the scar on her cheek, over the purple bruises and over the deep red scratches that adorned her face.

"You can't tell anyone okay?" he hissed, clamping a hand over her mouth, "Or I'll get you. You hear?"

She nodded weakly, struggling against his weight on her.

"Be a good girl," he ordered, digging his nails into her arm.

Be a good girl. Be a good girl. All she was every being told was to be a 'Good Girl'.


"Be a good boy for Daddy now," she smiled, patting her youngest sons coffee mop on the top of his head. She was unsure about leaving her two sons with their father, not for the fear of something terrible happening but for the fear of the mess that the house may be in when she returned. But she had promised; a girls night out for her five daughters and a boys night in for her three cowboys. She slipped into her newly bought shoes and kissed her baby boy on the forehead, moving to kiss her big boy but being pushed away because he didn't want any lipstick on his face before moving to kiss her husband on the lips.

"Bye Mama," three year old Nick Stokes grinned, waving as he quickly ducked out of the way, avoiding his elder sisters' sticky lipstick kisses.

"Bye Nicky," she smiled, waving her fingers as she ushered her five daughters out of the door, "Bye Garth, bye honey."

And with a click of the door, the men were alone in the house.


He left with a click of her bedroom door, the inky darkness surrounding her, swallowing her whole. She hadn't meant to find her brothers 'special medicine," they'd been playing hide and seek and she'd hidden underneath his bed, it was an accident that the 'special medicine' was under there too. She rolled over in her bed, tucking her knees to her chin and burying herself under the covers. It had been a good day, her parents had left this morning to go to the big market out of town and they'd left her brother in charge. They'd had fun playing hide and seek in the large, empty bed and breakfast until she had decided to hide under his bed. Then e got mad, like Daddy did. He'd hit her and told her she couldn't tell Mummy or Daddy anything. She had to promise she wouldn't.

She closed her eyes but it was much too early to go to sleep, she wanted to read but her brother had switched the lights out and switching them on again would mean getting out of bed and into the darkness where she was sure all the monsters were just waiting to get her. She took a deep breath and threw back the covers, giving the monsters a moment to get her if they were out there. Satisfied that there was no monsters tonight she crawled to the side of the bed, lowering her feet off the side until she landed on the carpet, running as quickly as her little legs would carry her she ran to the door, climbing on the box she'd stolen from Daddy's garage and switching the light on before letting out a deep breath as her room lit up to reveal no monsters, just everything that should be.

She clambered back into her bed and grabbed the baby book from her bedside; Molly- an old guest at the Bed and Breakfast had given her it and taught her how to read it. It was the first time Sara had ever been called smart; Molly had been amazed at how quickly she'd picked up how to figure out the words especially seeing as the brown haired girl was only three years old. Sara pulled the covers over her knees and opened the book; she could read it from memory nowadays but she still read it every night using what Molly had taught her. She had to hide the book from Daddy though; he'd caught her reading before and had shouted at her.

She looked at the first page and read the word aloud as a whisper, "C-a-t, cat."


"C'mon Nicholas, come and stir this for me as I get the hooks," his father chuckled, lifting the toddler up onto the counter and placing the bowl in his lap, handing him the spoon.

"It smells," Nick frowned, stirring like his daddy asked, watching as his big brother Garth sat at the table, two years older than Nick he was counting how many grasshoppers were in the tub, Nick had started to help, but after twenty it had gotten too hard for him to do.

The mixture in the bowl was beginning to get sticky and clumped on the spoon, looking down at the sludge-coloured substance Nick looked over at his brother, "Garth, it's stuck."

"It's meant to be Nicky," Garth sighed, pushing his new glasses up his nose as he continued to count, "Ugh, you made me lose count."

"You were on seventy-four," Nick reminded for he had been sitting listening to Garth's counting for the last ten minutes.

"Oh, well thank you," Garth shrugged, returning to his counting, "If you don't think it's right tell Dad."

"Da-ad," Nick called, stuck on the counter considering it was a very long way down.

"Yes Nicky?" his father laughed, walking back into the kitchen through the back door carrying a tackle box.

"It's stuck," Nick frowned, lifting up the wooden spoon with the substance attached.

Bill laughed and took the bowl from his son, "Perfectly okay son, we just need a little more flour."

"That's the white stuff right?" Nick asked, his brown eyes widening in curiosity as he watched his father add more of the white powder to the mixture and mixing it vigorously before lifting the clump in his hand and placing it down on the table.

"Let's get you down from there and into business, Pancho," Bill chuckled, lifting his son down from the counter and sitting him at the table, sitting next to him.

"What kind of business Cisco?" Nick grinned, propping his elbows in the table,

"Fishing business," Bill smiled, "Garth, are you almost done?"


"What are you doing with your light on you little shit," her brother stormed into the room, shaky and unstable on his feet, his eyes glazed and his pupils dilated.

"I-I was reading," Sara stuttered, throwing the book beneath the covers and pulling them over her, shaking in fear.

"Reading, you're fucking three, you can't read," her brother scoffed, his voice more like their fathers than his own.

"Molly taught me," Sara squeaked out.

"Another one of your imaginary friends?" her brother smirked, switching off the light, leaving Sara encompassed in the darkness, "You better be fucking glad I won't remember this tomorrow."

The bad words hit Sara and she hid under her sheets, her hands over her ears as she could hear her brother leave the room, swearing like a sailor. She heard him bang into things outside her room until she heard the front door open and slam shut.

She was alone. Again.


"Daddy look," Garth beamed, handing his father the hook he'd baited himself.

"That's fantastic son," Bill grinned, taking it and adding it to the box of finished ones before turning to Nick who was fiddling with his first one.

"It won't work," Nick frowned, pushing the home-made bait onto the hook only to have it miss a spike and him have to start all over again.

"Slowly Nick," Garth instructed over his brothers shoulder.

It took all of Nick's concentration to slowly thread the bait onto the hook without missing anything or getting any scratches on his fingers.

"I did it too Daddy," Nick smiled, holding up his first baited hook.

It was a proud moment for father and son.

-Brown Eyes-

I had to end it on sort of a happy note!

As you can probably see this is going to detail Nick and Sara's lives from being babies to being grown up *cough* getting married and having babies of their own *cough* so I hope you will read and enjoy.

Again Happy Birthday Zoe! xxxxxxx