Summary Post Living Dolls. Nick/Sara friendship. Nick and Sara talk and share feelings on getting over near-death experiences.
Rating T
Comments
Everyone else was either asleep or in the cafeteria having a much-needed cup of coffee. It was just Nick now, sitting in an uncomfortable chair watching over the sleeping Sara. She looked so small and fragile, lying in that hospital bed covered in little cuts and bruises, her arm in a thick white cast that had already been signed by half the Las Vegas Police Department. His heart cried out for his friend as he remembered for a moment that only a few years before, their positions had been reversed. He knew better than anyone else on the team how she was feeling, which made him the perfect person for her to wake up to now.
She moaned groggily as she stirred awake. Her eyes fluttered open to meet Nicks smile. "Hi, Nick," she greeted in a scratchy whisper.
"Hi, Sara," he replied in a quiet, soothing voice. "How are you feeling?"
She took a deep, labored breath; Nicks eyebrows ruffled in concern. "I'm fine," she said, her voice still sounded as if her thought were made of sandpaper. With her good hand she pointed to her cup of water. "Nick, could you…"
"Sure." He handed the cup to Sara, who took a long sip.
She leaned her head back against the pillow and looked up at Nick. "Thanks."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't awkward; it was peaceful. To Nick's surprise, Sara was the one to break the silence. "Nick?"
"Yeah, Sara?"
"How long does it take?"
"For what?"
"For the pain to go away?"
"Well, your arm's broken in three places and your rib cage was nearly crushed…"
"Not that pain."
Nick averted his eyes and looked down at the floor. He knew what she meant: the real pain. The pain of knowing that someone had almost ended you. The pain of knowing you almost died. The pain of remembering that fear. The pain that Nick was afraid to admit to Sara would never truly go away.
He could lie to her. He could tell her that she would make a full emotional recovery. But Nick's face had always been a second grade reading level. It was no use.
"Sara, It…I'm sorry, Sara. But to be perfectly honest with you, it dulls, it eases, and it evades you for a while. But it never totally completely goes away."
"Oh," she answered simply.
Again, a silence that could be sliced with a knife filled the room. But it was not completely empty. When Nick finally lifted his eyes back to Sara, an imaginary dagger jabbed into his heart when he saw a single tear role down her face.
"Oh, Sara…"
She quickly wiped the tear away and forced a smile at Nick. "It gets easier, though."
Nick nodded a conformation. "Yeah."
"Okay. Stranded out in the middle of nowhere, everyone is clueless as to where, nothing to go on but some bitch who won't talk, and all for the sake of a stupid revenge plot. Can't fate think of anything better to give us?"
Nick and Sara both laughed. "Yeah, it is getting a bit old." Nick agreed. He stopped laughing when Sara held her side in pain. "Sara, don't make your self laugh like that. Not untill it heals"
"It was worth it." She took another deep breath and winked at Nick, then moved again to a more serious note. "If I need someone to talk to…"
"We'll be are own little support group." He reached out and squeezed Saras hand. He tried to pull away, but she held on.
She relaxed against the pillows and closed her eyes and within minutes, she was asleep. Nick sat there for a little while just watching her chest rise and fall in deep, even breathing. He smiled inwardly as he rose to leave, leaving her to her dreams that would hopefully now be peaceful.