Sara's POV:
"I tell you it's a damn war zone every time I step into that hospital room," I complained as I sat down in a chair across from Grissom. "You should consider telling Nick that he has to go back to work before Alex kills him."
"What's going on? They were fine yesterday when I stopped by," Grissom replied. He knew that he stopped by when Alex was asleep. I began to suspect that Alex would fake sleeping just so Nick would leave her alone. God knows, the thought had even crossed my mind this morning.
"Nick doesn't think Alex eats enough or takes enough pain medication. Alex thinks Nick is over stepping his boundaries. They are constantly bickering about something. This morning, they were fighting about whether or not it was safe for Alex to go outside for a little while," I complained. I had become thankful for work. Work was the only sanctuary that I had left. Nick and Alex always managed to drag me into their little wars. Alex was trying to reassert control over her life; Nick was trying to take care of her. Alex despised every moment that she needed to rely on others for her basic needs. They growled and snapped at each other worse than my brother and I did as children.
"Who won?" Grissom asked with a smile.
"Alex. Only because the doctor reassured Nick that her wounds wouldn't get infected, that the warm temperatures wouldn't dehydrate her, and that locusts would not fall from the sky and snatch her up," I replied.
"Locusts?" Grissom said with a smirk.
"I made that one up, but I'm sure Nick thought of something else completely insane," I replied, "Nick's threatening to make her go home with us when she's released."
"What's Alex's agenda?" Grissom asked obviously entertained by the entire situation.
"To recuperate in a hotel far away from Nick until it's safe for her to fly. You know blood clots and stuff," I replied.
"So what's your take on the situation?" Grissom asked.
"I might just move into the hotel with Alex," I replied with a sigh. If Nick ever complained that I went to extremes, he would be in trouble. I had never seen someone try so hard to heal another person. He tried to meet every one of her needs . . . even the ones that Alex hadn't thought of yet. Seeing his behavior, I prayed nightly that I would never get sick enough to receive that kind of attention from Nick.
"I'll call Nick and tell him it's time to come back to work. Hopefully, that will give Alex time to rest. Is there anything I can do to help you?" Grissom asked.
"Give me a tranquilizer gun so I can get Nick to simmer down a little bit," I replied without another thought. I had been thinking it for the last three days, but I didn't think I would ever vocalize it.
"I'll have him work a double tomorrow night," Grissom replied. I could have just about kissed his feet. It would give me time to rest without having to listen to Nick bitch about how insolent Alex was. I'm sure that Alex would find some monumental way to thank Grissom for getting Nick out of her hospital room.
"I might try to send Alex home with Greg. Greg offered her last night while Nick went to get coffee. Alex said that she didn't want to impose, but someone probably needs to stay with her until that arm is a little more manageable," I replied as I began to stand up. I was looking forward to spending some quality time with a corpse tonight . . . God knows, it wasn't going to talk back to me.
"Do what you need to. Let me know when you need Nick to work a double shift," Grissom said as he pushed some paperwork around on his desk. I was so thankful that I could always count on Grissom to make sure that I was well taken care of.
Nick's POV:
She spent the afternoon pretending to be asleep. Allie was so happy to be outside this morning; I was terrified that something would happen the second that we left the close watch of the nurses and doctors. I had anxiety reminiscent of the first day I was a cop in Dallas. I worried about what I would do if, or when, something fatal might arise. Allie told me to shut up and let her enjoy the gentle breeze and hot sun. She sat in the courtyard reading a worn copy of Macbeth that Grissom had dropped off earlier that morning.
Maybe it's that I wanted her to open up and tell me whatever it was that she was thinking. Maybe it's that I thought she needed someone to heal her. I don't know why exactly I obsess over the stupidest aspects of her medical care. I don't know why I feel a strange security when we fight over all these stupid things.
Last night, Allie said that there was no way that she would go home with me. I don't know if she meant it; I don't know if she realizes how important it is to me that I somehow try to fix her. I've been known to take on these projects. Warrick always teased me that I took on quite the project with Sara. Sara was convinced that I was doing the same thing with Allie. Maybe it's that I need her to need me.
Allie woke up in a rotten mood. Her nurse would change her arm and face dressings in the early afternoon. Allie prepared for the painful task by being as cranky and impossible as she could be. I sat with her on the first day, but I became sick to my stomach when I saw the metal rods piercing her flesh. I nearly passed out when I saw the tears roll down her face and painful grimaces each time her arm was manipulated. I had nightmares about the blood and drainage that night. Few people knew that I was very squeamish around blood. I left her in the early afternoon to have a meal with Sara before she went on shift.
I saw very little of Sara. I saw her in the morning when she would visit Allie bearing forensic science and psychology journals . . . or Vogue, Redbook, and Cosmopolitan. I saw Sara briefly for a meal in the early afternoon. I had begun sleeping at night, so I could be at the hospital most of the day. I had inadvertently put myself and Sara on completely opposite schedule.
I had also committed another crime. I had drug Sara into one of my arguments with Allie. Sara had refused to take sides because Sara said Allie should be allowed to recuperate where ever the hell she wants. I knew Sara was right. I knew that I was pushing Allie into a situation she clearly stated she did not want to be in. Maybe it's that I needed Allie to need me. Maybe it's that I felt like I owed her so much for keeping me out of harm's way.
Allie said that she was going to recuperate at a hotel. I told her that she needed someone to help her with her arm. Allie flatly denied that, but I was sure that she would come around after she realized that she would never be able to change her own dressings. Allie would feel helpless; she would feel so much like I did a few years ago after Nigel Crane pushed me from a second story window. I spent two weeks in Sara and Catherine's care; I hated every second of the helplessness that I felt, but I knew that I couldn't take care of myself on my own. I didn't want Allie to realize that she had been essentially abandoned in a hotel.
Greg had offered to have her stay with him. I found myself jealous of the way that he responded to Allie and the way Allie responded to him. I had to stop and remind myself that Allie wasn't mine to take care of. I had to remind myself that I had consciously made the decision two years ago not to pursue a relationship with Allie. Sex hadn't been a commitment; our brief fling was nothing more than a fling. The repercussions of casual sex were new to me. I never had casual sex despite what my coworkers might assume. My only experiences with casual sex, prior to Allie, were from living vicariously through my frat brothers.
"What's La Place's Law," Allie said aloud. She was pleased that she could still win at Jeopardy when she was doped up on a ton of pain medications. Allie didn't seem to mind that it was tournament for teenagers that she was playing along with.
"Are you still not talking to me?" Allie asked as the television show went to commercial. I had learned quickly that I was not to have a real conversation with her during Jeopardy. Grissom had his bugs, Allie had Jeopardy.
"Are you going to yell at me if I talk to you?" I asked cautiously.
"I don't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry, Nick," Allie replied. I wondered if this was Allie talking or if this was the opioids flowing through her veins talking.
"It's long since forgotten," I replied. Allie smiled. Well, she smiled as much as all the bruising would allow her to. "Something on your mind?"
"You should go back to work. I'm doing okay here. You should start spending more time with Sara," Allie said quickly.
"I want to stay here. I want to make sure that you are okay," I replied.
"You need to start spending more time with Sara," Allie said pointedly. She had me on that one. "Don't waste your time on a ghost, Nick."
With that last comment, she went back to playing Jeopardy. Allie had left me with a lot to think about. Maybe she was a ghost. She did disappear and reappear in my life with a whimsical quality. Maybe I never grieved the loss of Allie the way that I grieved the loss of Kristi. That was probably because I never thought of Allie as being gone. I thought of it more as a strange limbo that our relationship, or lack of a relationship, was stuck in. Allie had hinted that maybe it was time to find a way to make this friendship work . . . or just dissolve whatever relationship there was left. Allie wanted this to be done all for Sara's sake.
Two hours later, Grissom called me to ask if I would work a double shift tomorrow night. I agreed. I didn't realize that she would be gone before my shift was over. I didn't think that the FBI would fly her home to Los Angeles to receive medical care closer to her home base. I didn't realize how soon Allie would once again become a ghost.