Thanks for the reviews! I love it so much. All I can say is that if you have questions about certain elements of the story, keep reading. I have some stuff planned to do, and there is a reason for certain plots, though it may not seem like it right now . . . things will be come clearer, though . . .
I disclaim . . . .
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Sara lay in the hospital bed, her eyes wide open in fear. She couldn't speak. She couldn't look at either of Nick's parents, who were holding vigil on either side of her. All she could do was look straight ahead at the stark white walls which were not comforting in the least.
"I'm sure everything is fine," Jillian said quietly as she reached up and tucked a piece of Sara's hair behind her ear. "They just need to run a few tests, and then we'll all get out of here. You and the baby will be as good as new."
Sara's jaw was rigid as she fought the tears, desperate to keep them back. The only thing she was trying to concentrate on was grinding her teeth.
She wanted - no, she needed - to block everything else out. The EMTs had told her that she was spotting, and that it was best for her and the baby if she tried to relax. Much easier said than done.
Once they'd arrived at the hospital, her nerves were frayed and she was barely holding it together. She tried to take the advice of the EMT and relax, but what was left of her world was dangerously close to being ripped away from her. A fact that she was reminded of every time she experienced a cramp.
Though they were become farther apart, and not as intense, she couldn't help but think the worst.
Bill watched on silence, his hand absently grasping at Sara's. He really was scared that his grandchild would not be given a chance, and that the elation he and the rest of his family felt that a part of Nick would live on would be ripped away from them. And that there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He looked into Sara's eyes, and saw that she was fragile, wondering if she was going to break. He could see the fear and terror behind her orbs and wondered how she'd be able to cope with the devasting loss of her child if it came to that.
In the private room, the three just waited. The only noises beind made were the shallow breathes of all the occupants and the ticking of the clock mounted on the wall. It was normally a noise that was quiet, but in the eerily quiet room, it was as loud as a ticking bomb. And just served as a reminder that the were still waiting. And though they hadn't been waiting long, it seemed like forever.
"Can one of you go see what's taking so long?" Sara asked timidly.
Bill nodded his head and silently rose from the stool beside the bed. He dropped Sara's hand and placed a kiss on her forehead trying to give her some fatherly love, and reassure her that every thing would be fine.
"Thank you," she managed weakly, her voice cracking with emotion. She looked away.
Bill glanced at his wife, heaving a silent sigh as he turned and walked out the door to find out what was taking so long . . .
"You know, when I was pregnant with Becky," Jillian started, "I fell in the garden. But everything was fine."
She wiped furiously at the tears betraying her as they slipped down her cheek. "Did you cramp? Or bleed?" she asked.
Jillian shook her head no. "But I did cramp when I was pregnant with Nicole. And I did have some spotting through out my pregnancy with Nicky." She wiped away a tear from Sara's cheek. "And they all turned out just fine."
"But I fell down a flight of stairs," she looked down at her hands that were now resting on her stomach where her child was . . . "and I'm cramping and bleeding because of it." She bite her lip, but it quivered and she choked out, "It's my fault this is happening."
Jillian stood up from her chair and sat on the edge of the bed, removing Sara's hands that were now covering her face. She was too weak and filled with emotions to struggle against Jillian. The older woman cupped her chin, making Sara meet her eyes. "Don't say that. It's not true. What happened was an accident Sara. You can't blame yourself for this."
"How can you even look at me?" she asked, the tears continuing to build and pour down her face faster. She tried to calm herself, but her breathing became more ragged with each passing moment. "Nick is gone and his baby might be now too."
"You can't think like that," she told Sara gently.
"Nick would've kept the baby safe," she said as if she didn't hear Jillian's words. "It's something I obviously can't do myself. And now . . . " she couldn't finish her sentence. "I've disappointed him." She burried her face in her hands and let the emotions pour out of her. "God, I never wanted to disappoint him."
"You haven't," Jillian's voice had a stern, motherly quality to it. "Sara, you fell. It was an accident. It was bad timing that you were on the stairs, but even Nick couldn't have prevented it. He wouldn't blame you, nor would he want you to get worked up over it. The baby could be completely fine."
Sara looked at Jillian for a moment, completely silent, except for the sounds of her irratic breathing. Slowly, she nodded her head. "Deep down, I know that," she acknowledged, "but . . ."
"No buts," she shook her head. "Think positively. Block out all the negative energy."
Sara bit her lip, and forced a smile. But the tears started up again. "I can't loose this baby, Jillian. I just can't."
Jillian felt the tears in her own eyes finally spill down her cheeks. "I know, Sweetie," she leaned over, pulling the woman into a warm embrace.
The two fell into silence once again. But it was short lived as Bill walked through the door, holding it open for a nurse and a doctor He smiled at the two women.
"Ready?" he asked them. Jillian's eyes fell on Sara.
She sighed, putting her hand against her abdomen. She took a deep breath. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be ready," she said quietly, her thumb running over the paper gown that covered her flesh. "But I have to be."
She knew that the sooner she knew for sure, the better it'd be. The waiting and wondering was not helping her level of stress. But on the other hand, if it were bad news, the not knowing about it would give her a few more minutes of feeling like she was still connected to Nick. If the baby was gone, he would be too . . .
The doctor introduced herself as Doctor Brenner, and the nurse simply said her name was Amy.
When the Amy made a move to help Sara with rolling down the thin blanket, and roll up the paper gown to expose her flesh, Bill adverted his eyes. Clearing his throat, he announced, "I'll be just outside."
Sara's eyes shot up and she reached her hand out for him, "stay. Please." She saw the questioning look in his eyes, and she smiled as best she could. "I want you to stay."
Jillian nodded at her husband, telling him that he was to stay put. Though she loved that he was still a southern gentleman, ready to leave the room to make Sara more comfortable, they needed all the positive energy they could get. And Sara needed all the morale support she could get.
"All right," he nodded his head curtly and stepped up towards the head of the bed, keeping a firm grasp on the hand that she offered him. Jillian sat back down in the chair, firmly graping Sara's other hand. Both Bill and Jillian's free hands were resting above Sara's head, which was resting a pillow, on the mattress, clinging to one another for strength.
The nurse smiled sympathetically at Sara. "This is conducting gel," she explained, holding up the bottle for Sara to see. "It might feel a little cold and wet, OK?"
Sara nodded her head, but still flinched when the gel made contact with her skin.
Her heart was in her throat as the doctor snapped on his white gloves and placed the transducer on her abdomen. He held the wand still for a moment before turning on the monitor, which was facing away from them, and slowly moving the wand around.
The room was silent again and Sara could hear her heart beating in her ears . . . . .
She saw the doctor speaking softly the nurse, a concerned look etched across her face . . .
"What's wrong?" she immediately asked, her chin quivering. She fought against the tears as hard as she could, determined that she wouldn't fall apart until after she knew what was going on. It was only a second later that she realized something. "Why can't I hear my babys heartbeat?"
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Kelly Gordon sat on the front steps of Sylvia Mullin's home, looking towards the new subdivision of homes that was slowly encrouching on the house.
Turning off the engine of her car, Sylvia opened the drivers side door and onto her driveway. "Kelly," she greeted, not bothering to try and mask her surprise. "What're you doing here?"
"Didn't expect to see me, huh?" Kelly asked, her jaw set.
"You were less than thrilled with me the last time we spoke," she said, recalling when Kelly had visited her at her office.
"Well, would you have been happy if you were me?" She spat back icily.
Sylvia closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to turn the clocks back a few months and make everything just disappear. Walter, although a good friend, had put her in a very difficult position, and now his daughter was not making her life any easier. "I suppose not," she finally answered, closing the door of her car. She popped open the trunk. "Can we just skip the pleasantries? I'm tired, and I just want to put away my groceries, and go to sleep."
"Can I come in?" Kelly asked her, eyeing her suspiciously
Sylvia quickly shook her head no. "I don't think so. Maybe some other time."
"Right," Kelly nodded her head and offered a sarcastic smile. Like that would ever happen.
Sylvia grabbed a couple of paper bags out of the trunk and hoisted them up on her hips, skillfully closing the trunk.
"That's a lot of food for one person, isn't it?" Kelly observed. Then laughed a little bit. "But then again, I'm not entirely sure why a single woman would buy a house this big, either."
"Look, if you came here -"
"Ooh, hit a nerve did I?" Kelly sneered. "Whatever. I don't really give damn why you bought this house -- oh, whoops. Sorry. Why my Dad bought you this house . . ." She eyed the woman up and down, sizing her up. "Its not like you were his type. But I guess a lot can change in three years, huh?"
"Guess so," Sylvia bit her tongue as she brushed past Kelly towards her front door. As much as she wanted to tell the young woman to take a long walk off a short pier, she knew that Kelly was just reacting to surprising news that had thrown her for a loop.
"I need money," she spit out.
"Oh really?" Sylvia asked, turning to face her. "And why does that involve me?"
"Because you are the Trustee of my Dad's Estate. You know he'd take care of me if he were still here."
"Yeah, well he's not, now is he?" Sylvia's eyes glazed over with hatred. "He'd still be here if it weren't for you."
"I didn't do anything!" Kelly yelled.
"Really? Then why were the CSIs able to link you to the murder?"
Kelly rotated her neck, trying to not get worked up over such a stupid comment. "I wasn't apart of it. I dropped the damn cup when I was running. I didn't want to get involved."
"Well, the jury thought otherwise. They saw the kind of person you really are. Too bad the parole board couldn't."
"So, I guess you're not going to give me any money, huh?"
"No, but I am going to give you some advice," Sylvia spat back. "It's the least I can do. After all, you're Dad would want you to be taken care of . . . so, do it. Take care of yourself. Be a woman and get a job."
"Don't do something you'll regret," Kelly warned, her eyes becoming dark.
"Too late," and with that, she walked inside her house and closed the door, locking it behind her.
"BITCH!" Kelly screamed towards the house before angrily making her way to her beat up car that she'd bought for only a couple hundred dollars . . . Once inside, she banged her hand against the wheel. "How could you've been so stupid, Dad?" she asked aloud. "Now she thinks she has all the power . . . Us Gordon's are the ones with the power, isn't that right?" She looked at the crumpled up photo that sat on her dash board of her father. She smiled slightly as her fingers traced his face. An almost serene look passed over her. "We'll just have to show her whose boss, won't we?"
Knowing that the perfect plan would take some time to map out, she sped off down the street, thinking of ways to make Sylvia Mullin's pay for ruining her life . . .
CSICSICSICSISCSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Greg watched the scene unfolding from across the street, in the passenger side of Warrick's Denali. "Well . . . this is . . . interesting."
"Intense," Warrick nodded, his eyebrows creasing together as he thought about what it could all mean.
After telling Brass about this findings, he felt like he needed to discuss things with. Nick would've been his first choice, but since he was unavailable, it was Greg. Grissom wouldn't be impressed that he used channels that weren't legal, and he just couldn't drag Catherine into it. Not when she had Lindsay to worry about. First of all though, he needed to figure out what exactly was going on. And what, if anything, it had to do with loosing Nick.
So, after telling Greg about the information he'd obtained, the two had decided that they would follow Kelly around to see if she'd slip up and they might find out something useful. They just happened to luck out that on their first stake-out, she'd lead them to Sylvia's home
"Those two certainly don't look like they were ever best friends," Greg said. "Do you think Kelly's showing up here has anything to do with the missing money?"
Warrick shook his head. He had to strain to hear it, but he'd heard Kelly asking for money from the Estate. "Naw. If she was wanting money, and Sylvia didn't want to give it to her, she could've held the missing three hundred grand over her head. Blackmail her . . ."
"But she didn't." Greg looked around. The new housing developements and shook his head. "Something just doesn't feel right."
Warrick sighed in relief. "You feel it too?"
He nodded his head and motioned all around them. "Does Sylvia Mullin's strike you as the type of woman who'd want to live here?" The new multi-million dollar home subdivision.
Warrick nodded his head. "She does seem like she'd want to live in an area with wealthy people," he pointed out.
"But this is about as far away from the glitz and glamor of Vegas as you can get," Greg said. "She seems like the type of woman who'd want to be in the middle of all the action. Not secluded away from it."
Warrick nodded his head, agreeing with what Greg was saying. "She's on the move," he said, turning over the Denali's engine and slowly, unnoticed by Kelly, pulled out onto the roadway, following her a safe distance behind . . .
Neither of the CSIs realized how close they were to the truth, and that they were just getting farther, and farther away . . . .
TBC . . . .