Title: Fade to Black

Fandom: CSI

Pairing: Sara/Lockwood

Rating: PG

Word Count: 679

Spoilers: Inside the Box

Prompt: 11 Red

Notes: An AU to an AU if you can believe that… part of the “Fool for Lesser Things” universe.

Sara’s been to any amount of crime scenes in her time as a CSI; this, however, is the first time she’s ever been there when a crime is actually being committed. She’s surprised to find that the same instincts that are with her when she works are with her now: her every sense is heightened, and she’s very aware of her palm prints, sweaty on the glass of the counter in front of her, of the cries of the near-hysterical mother and child to her right, of the calm, almost too-calm presence of Cyrus by her side.

She chances a glance in his direction, finds him looking at her too, giving her an almost smile that can only be described as rueful. After all, he’d been the first one to leave her – their? – bed this morning, slipping into the shower while leaving her to sleep. A light sleeper though, she’d heard him, had briefly considered turning over and sleeping some more, before finally deciding she’d much rather join him. They’d stayed there until the water had run cold, and even then, she’d done her level best to convince him that they should stay in the bedroom all day. Mr Sensible had prevailed though, and she’d reluctantly dressed, deciding to join him on his errands in town.

She lifts one eyebrow in silent reminder, and he shakes his head slightly, his grin broadening momentarily, reaching all the way up to his eyes. “Next time, we do things your way,” he whispers, so quiet that she only knows what he’s said by the movement of his lips.

The words make her feel better though, and it’s when she’s processing that emotion – because God knows, she’s not used to it – that all hell breaks loose.

The near-hysterics of the young mother become full blown hysterics, and grabbing her son, she bolts for the door.

The robber nearest to them points his gun.

Cyrus goes for his weapon.

And Sara sees something, she doesn’t know what, out of the corner of her eye.

Without conscious thought, she’s moving towards Cyrus, is pushing him down to the ground as the world erupts around them, people screaming, glass and bullets flying, the smell of gunpowder and fear and panic permeating the air.

Doors slam, and men shout, and brakes squeal and then it’s all perfectly silent.

For a long moment, Sara can’t breathe, pressed into the ground by the warm weight of Cyrus on top of her. They fell together, his arms, it would appear, going around her automatically, and she can feel his palms splayed against her skin. It’s not the first time they’ve lain like this, and it won’t be the last, but she really needs to breathe, and she pushes against him, a sudden fear striking her.

“Cyrus?” she manages to croak, barely recognising her own voice, and her heart does something painful, but unspeakably thankful, when he shifts slightly, pulls back and looks down at her.

“Sara?” he asks, and he’s frowning, as if he’s puzzled.

She smiles, partly in reassurance, partly because she can’t believe the day’s gone like this either. “Next time, we definitely stay at home,” she tells him, and he starts to smile, but stops when a spasm of coughing grips her. His face contorts into sheer alarm, and when he says her name again, she suddenly realises that she’s very cold, so cold that she’s shaking.

“Look at me Sara,” he says, pulling himself upright, and when his hands emerge from behind her back, they are smeared red. His face goes ashy pale, and he throws a panicked look towards someone she can’t see. “I need help here!” His attention goes quickly back to her, as he rips off his jacket, balling it up and shoving it behind her. “Stay with me Sara…damn it, stay with me…”

She wants to, more than anything, but she can’t find the words, can’t even concentrate on his eyes.

All she can think about is his hands, smeared red with her blood, as the world fades to black around her.