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The streets were slick from the brief torrential downpour that had just happened. It was a rain that came down in thick sheets so thick you could barely see your hand in front of your face, if one were so inclined. Sara was on her way to a scene near Meade and was currently fiddling with the radio knobs, trying to find something that didn't twang.
On the same stretch of road as Sara, Greg was enjoying the beginnings of a night off, also fiddling with the radio and oblivious to the vehicle in front of him that had come to a screeching halt. He looked up from the console too late and as he slammed on the breaks he began to fishtail, slamming into the back of a Chevy Tahoe, totaling his little Jetta and pushing the bumper of the SUV into the back seat of the truck. The contact was brief and harsh as Greg was slammed forward and Sara, her face full of air-bag had come to rest in the middle of the intersection. The damage to both vehicles was complete and total and though neither had any visible injuries, the damage to the vehicles told the tale. Luckily, both of them were wearing their seatbelts which minimized the bodily damage somewhat, but by no stretch of the imagination would either of them walk away unscathed.
Within moments they both began to feel the full extent of their injuries. In Greg's car his left leg was killing him and his chest felt tight, making it difficult for him to breathe. His right arm, which he had used to brace himself against the steering wheel had snapped like a twig at the forearm and he had a nice open laceration on his head that ran from his right eyebrow at an upward and right angle to his hairline. He was bleeding from the wound that had split open like an egg that had been dropped on a linoleum tile floor.
In Sara's truck, which was considerably more sturdy, she sustained injuries as well. From the air-bag she had a broken nose and burst blood vessel in her left eye as well as a laceration to the left side of her head that ran from just above her left ear to the middle of her forehead. Her truck had been slammed with such force that her seat had moved forward, forcing her chest into the steering column. Her left leg, which she usually kept fairly relaxed while driving had been broken in multiple places from her foot all the way to her upper thigh, her femur, tibia and fibula. Her right arm, which had impacted with the radio console had been bent nearly backward as if she were double-jointed, being broken, her humerus and ulna. Her stomach was tight and she was having trouble breathing from broken ribs as well as moving herself so that she could retrieve her cell from her jeans pocket. She could really feel nothing below her waist and it was this that was bothering her the most. When she tried, she could move her good arm, but it was pointless, as her cell was in the opposite pocket and therefore unreachable.
Witnesses to the accident called for rescue but due to the rain, the roads and other accidents in the greater Las Vegas area, it would be a few minutes before they were saved. Good Samaritans ran from their parked cars in an attempt to render assistance to both accident victims, but as none of them were medical professionals all they could do was put pressure on the visible open wounds. Some people even removed their shirts to press on the gushing wounds.
By the time rescue arrived and saw the state of things it became evident that more than a simple ambulance transport was in order. The firefighters worked on Greg's car first, as his was the most damaged of the two. In order to extricate him from his car they needed the jaws of life to pry the driver's door open and get him out. No sooner had the door been opened then Greg was placed on a backboard. In the back of the bus his leg was placed in a traction splint and an IV immediately started.
Sara's situation, though worse than Greg's, was easier to deal with. Her door opened right up and she was given very nearly the same treatments as Greg once she had been placed on a backboard and into the back of the bus. She lay still as a catheter needle was inserted into her Median cubital vein. Once the blood began to flow she was immediately given fluids in an attempt to replace the blood that she had lost from her many wounds, especially her extensive head wound that was presently leaking like a sieve. Several 4x4's had been placed on top of the wound and secured in place by wrapping her head in gauze and taping her head down to the stabilizer blocks.
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Sitting in his office, Grissom poured over reports and employee evaluations that needed doing. As his desk phone rang he set his pen down and picked up the receiver. If one were looking through the glass walls of his office they would see him scribbling on a sheet of paper and when he was done he jumped up, grabbed his jacket and rushed out to the parking lot. Sliding behind the wheel of one of the crime scene SUVs, he hit the lights and floored it to the hospital. Jumping out of the truck, he ran inside and immediately went to see the charge nurse who was of little help. He asserted the fact that he was their boss and demanded to know the state of things. Still, the nurse was either unwilling or unable to assist him. After making a minor scene, he went to sit in the family waiting area where he made a series of calls to those on his team that weren't otherwise occupied.
An hour later and Nick and Warrick were the first to arrive. They asked after Sara and Greg but Grissom was unable to give details. Since it was a slow night at the lab Catherine and Brass arrived about fifteen minutes later; both asking questions.
Finally, after about another hour and a half Grissom could see a doctor approach the nurse's desk and being directed to the family waiting area where what was left of the night shift waited anxiously to hear news of their colleagues