What Old Friends Are For


Rating: PG

Pairing:  Sara/Warrick

Spoilers: None

Feedback: Makes my day

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

Archive: At my site Checkmate , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

Summary:  Warrick receives a call for help from an old friend.

Notes: For the LiveJournal Writer’s Choice “Old Friends” challenge.


 

Pulse pounding, slick-palmed, Warrick burst into the Desert Palm ER, having made the trip from his place in half the normal journey time; all because of the voice on the other end of the phone line, the voice he hadn’t heard in almost four years.

 

He’d been asleep, but two words had had him wide awake. “It’s me.”

 

The voice had been unsure, shaky, just as it had been the last time he’d heard it, when she’d told him that she had to leave Vegas, because there was him, and there was Grissom, and she didn’t know how she felt and it was just too hard. He’d been too proud to beg her to stay; had been disappointed, but not surprised, when she didn’t keep in touch.

 

Until today.

 

“Where are you?” he’d demanded, too surprised for manners, and her reply had him jumping to his feet. 

 

“I’m at Desert Palm… There was an accident…”

 

He’d told her he’d be right there, had been good as his word, was wondering where to look when he heard his name. He turned, and there she was, looking nothing like he remembered.

 

Her hair was longer, curling halfway down her back, and to his experienced eye, it looked like she’d put on some much-needed weight. She wore a pale green t-shirt and blue jeans, her face pale and drawn, her gait stiff. He was so happy to see her though, walking and talking and in one piece, that he was halfway to hugging her before all that registered.

 

It was only when she gasped in his arms, and not in a good way, that he let her go, looking down at her curiously. One hand on her ribs, she smiled ruefully, perhaps even a touch embarrassed. “Sore ribs,” she explained. “Air bag.”

 

He chuckled, relieved that that was all it was. “See, this is why I never used to let you drive,” he quipped, and she smiled too, even managing a small laugh. Shaking his head, he reached out a hand, pushing back a lock of hair from her face, letting his fingers linger on her cheek.

 

It was then that he noticed the dark shadows under her eyes, the fading bruise on her temple, one that couldn’t have been caused by the crash. He frowned, looked harder, and her gaze fell as she swallowed hard. There were more marks on her neck, and lurid red fingermarks on her arm, and suddenly he wondered how much of her rib damage was from an air bag. “Sara…” he began, but she cut him off, still not looking at him.

 

“The car went off the road… I think I must have fallen asleep… I was driving all night, from Denver…”

 

“You drove from Denver?” Warrick couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. “Why the hell-” And then he knew, snapped his mouth shut.

 

“I didn’t want him to find us,” she said quietly.

 

He tilted his head, wondering had he heard her wrong. “Us?”

 

She met his eyes for a second, then turned around. “Carrie?” she called. “Come over here baby…” She knelt down as she spoke, and Warrick watched in amazement as a small girl toddled over to them, a small girl who was a miniature Sara. For an instant, Warrick entertained an impossible thought, Sara’s next words putting paid to that notion. “She’s two,” she said quietly, but the little girl took exception to that.

 

“I nearly three,” she said, holding out a pudgy hand with five fingers extended, looking so serious that Warrick could only smile. “Who you?”

 

“I’m Warrick,” he said, squatting down to the little girl’s level. “I’m an old friend of your mommy’s.” Glancing at Sara briefly, he continued addressing Carrie. “Why don’t you go back over to those toys?” he suggested. “Let me talk to your mommy.” Carrie looked at Sara for permission, and Sara nodded, looking after her as Warrick helped her up, gently touching the marks on her arm. “Her father?”

 

Sara nodded, tears in her eyes. “I had to get away,” she whispered. “I know it’s an imposition… but I had nowhere else to go.”

 

Shaking his head, Warrick squeezed her shoulder, running his hand down so that their fingers intertwined. “You’re right where you belong,” he countered, and she met his gaze then, more tears threatening.

 

“Maybe I never should have left in the first place.”

 

“And maybe I shouldn’t have let you go,” he said, taking another step towards her, slipping his free arm around her waist, closing his eyes when she stepped into him, her head resting on his shoulder. It may have been five years since she’d been there, but it still felt like it had then; like she was meant to be there, like she just fit.

 

When she lifted her head, her eyes, as they had then, showed doubt, but this time, there was hope there too. “What if we can’t do this?” she whispered. “I mean… where do we even begin?”

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we’re old friends Sara… that’s not a bad place to start.”

 

His words made her smile and, her arm still around his waist, she called to her daughter. “Come on baby,” she said, extending a hand. “Let’s go home.”

 

The little girl froze, grabbing Sara’s leg, her eyes showing real fear. “To Daddy?”

 

Sara stiffened, and Warrick’s heart broke for them. “No,” he said, squatting down, smiling at Carrie. “You’re gonna stay with me a while. That ok with you?”

 

Carrie’s eyes were still wide. “No Daddy?”

 

“Your daddy can’t hurt you any more.” Warrick tightened his grip on Sara’s hand, making the same promise to her as to Carrie, smiled when he felt her return the pressure. “OK?” When Carrie nodded, he stood up, inclining his head towards the door. “Let’s go.”

 

To his surprise, Carrie gripped his hand, held it tight as the three of them walked outside, into their new life. Together.