Lying in that hospital bed her skin was a deathly shade of pale, the only colour apparent on her body was the brownish hint of dried mud that still remained trapped under her finger nails from where she had been clawing at the ground just trying to escape. Numerous tubes and wires made their way into and out of her fragile body, a machine standing in the corner of the room bleeped with every beat of her heart while another hissed with every breath she took. She looked weak, helpless, lifeless even. This was not how they remembered Sara.
She had been unconscious for almost a week now. Grissom remained at her bedside only leaving when he was forced to go eat or shower by one of the team members. They visited her in the hospital almost every day, hoping that one day they would arrive to find that she was awake. They would gather at her bedside, those with beliefs preying to their God that she would pull through.
This was not the Sara they were used to, their Sara was full of fiery, a force to be reckoned with. As they stood around her hospital bed they begged for that fire to spark inside her and bring her back to them. Trying desperately to remove the lifeless image of her in the hospital bed, or the horrid image of her trapped beneath that car, they remembered the good times; recalling the good memories they had of Sara.