"What's wrong with him? What happened before I arrived? Please, tell me." Sara asked Stéphane, with obvious concern in her voice.

"He just had a panic attack, nothing more Sara." Stéphane answered reassuringly, moving around Sara while checking that Grissom was comfortable.

"What brought it on? He's never had them before…"

"Well, that could just be a one-off. I'm more concerned with the answers he provided when I asked him a few basic questions."

"What do you mean?"

Stéphane chose his words carefully. "Well, the good news is that the bruising on his back is starting to subside and consequently, he's getting some feeling and mobility in his legs…"

"And the bad news?"

"Sara, it's not as bad as it's going to sound but I think that…do you want to sit down for this?"

When she shook her head no, he continued. "I think he might be suffering from some sort of amnesia…"

Sara gasped and cut in earnestly, her voice barely audible. "But he knows who he is, who I am…" She never took her eyes off Grissom. She was still cradling his hand.

"Yes but…in my opinion, he seems to have lost his short-term memory. When the head suffers a blunt trauma and there's swelling of the brain…"

"We don't know that, he might…"

Stéphane interrupted her. "No, we don't but…please Sara, let me explain…with swelling of the brain, the trauma could have resulted in some memory loss."

Sara tore her anxious gaze from Grissom to give Stéphane her undivided attention.

"Now, from what I've observed, he's got no trouble remembering his personal details and even some patchy detail about events occurring a few days before the crash. However, it appears that he's got no recollection of the events directly preceding the crash."

He paused for breath and then resumed his explanation speaking very slowly. "For instance, he does not recall getting on the plane. He got very distressed when I mentioned that he was in Costa Rica, and he completely lost it when he thought that you were on the plane with him. I had the distinct impression he thought you had died in the crash…"

Sara brought her hand to her stomach as she quickly turned to look at Grissom. "Oh my God!"

"…and it's that last event that brought on the attack."

"What…can we do?" Her voice broke with the emotion.

"About the panic attack? Nothing. As far as the amnesia is concerned, while it's not uncommon with his type of injury to have some form of memory loss I can't say for sure when he will regain his memory or even if he does."

This was too much for Sara to take in. She just stood by the bed, staring at Grissom in disbelief, tears in her eyes.

"Listen Sara." Sara turned her watery gaze to Stéphane as he continued softly. "Sometimes memory returns on its own as soon as the swelling has subsided. Sometimes, it takes longer. His subconscious may be protecting him by suppressing the memory of the trauma. With brain injuries, we're very much in the dark. I'm very sorry the news aren't better but it's still very early days…just give it a bit of time." he finished, giving her a sad smile and a gentle squeeze of the shoulder.

After a while spent trying to focus her mind and process this new information, she turned to observe Grissom who was peacefully resting, looking so relaxed and no longer in pain now that the morphine was acting as a sedative.

She never noticed Stéphane quietly slip out of the room.

She pulled the chair nearer the bed, and collapsed onto it exhausted, staring ahead at the wall, eyes unfocused. It was already very late into the night.

How could it be that only twenty-four hours previously, she had been happily photo-documenting the hatching of sea turtle eggs as she had watched them scuttle into the ocean for the very first time?

She had been so blissfully unaware. But so much had happened since then.

All the drama of the past few hours caught up with her and she suddenly felt very weary, the events taking their toll on her. Sara just sat there, numb, her mind hypnotised by Stéphane's echoing words.

Just give it a bit more time.

How much time was she to give it? How much time would it take? Had she not given it plenty of time already?

How could it be that her life – their life, had once again taken a turn for the worse? It felt as though every time they were together, it was to feel more pain, more misery.

When was the last time they had truly been happy together? Not just fleeting moments, here and there but actually genuine happiness and contentment.

Not for a very long time.

It was more than she could bear to see him in so much pain – emotional pain as well as physical. She couldn't make any of it go away and what was more, she was convinced that she was the source of most of it.

Unable to think straight, she let out a very long sigh, decision made, tears stinging her eyes. She needed to protect herself and her future. She needed to protect him and keep him safe. She would leave in the morning. There was no other way.

She suddenly got to her feet, lips pursed. "I'm so sorry, Gil, it's all my fault…I can't do this…I'm so sorry."

She turned around without a backward glance and fled the room crashing into Mary on the way out of the infirmary.

"Sara, what's wrong?" Mary called. "Has something happened?"

But Sara just kept on running into the night without responding to Mary's pleas. She went to seek refuge in the only place she could call home, a small sparsely furnished room in a shack in the sleeping quarters of the camp and collapsed noisily onto the bottom bunk-bed. She curled on her side, sobbing into her pillow.

She was glad no one was sharing the room with her at that particular time and especially some stranger who would see her in that state – she felt pathetic, pitiful even, but most importantly ashamed.

She didn't have many possessions with her; most of her belongings had been accumulated during her travels, so packing would only take her a few minutes. If she asked, she was sure that she could catch a lift with one of the rescue teams back to Puerto Jiménes in the morning.

She never realised she was laying in the dark; the only light in the room being the soft glow of the moon.

She never heard Mary knock and come in. All she felt were the shift of the mattress under the older lady's weight as she sat on the edge of the bed and two strong arms enveloping her shoulders as someone hugged her from behind. Mary just held her, making gentle soothing sounds in Sara's hair.

She tried to hold back the tears but was unable to. "I'm no good for him, Mary. I'm a coward."

"I doubt that very much, Sara." Mary said with compassion. "That's not the impression you give me… you're a strong, independent woman who's probably had a rough deal in life and is coping as best she can. You've had a shock; it's understandable that you should be upset."

Mary's gaze was drawn to the photograph stuck on the wall by the headboard. "He came all the way here for you Sara."

"How can you say that?" Sara shifted under Mary's weight and sat up on the bed with some difficulty, bringing her legs under her. "How could he have known I was here…even I didn't know I would stop…I was meant to be back in the States by now and I just couldn't face it. I'm a coward, Mary, pure and simple. When the going gets tough, I just run, that's what I do."

"Nonsense. We all cope the only way we can." Mary assured, putting her hand on Sara's shoulder. "We've all done things we regret Sara but we can't let it affect us in the long run. You've got to move on from the past."

"How can I? It just keeps following me around…" Sara said looking down towards her stomach, avoiding Mary's attempts at eye contact.

"Because you're letting it." Mary cut in, impatiently. "You've got to face your fears, Sara," Mary continued softly, "not run away from them. And I can't imagine that… that poor man lying injured in the infirmary is the cause of those fears."

Sara looked up and wiped her eyes. "He's not." she murmured.

Mary stopped talking for a moment, allowing Sara some time to think before deciding to play her trump card.

"And anyway, regardless of all that, it's clear to anybody who sees you with him that you love him very much…it's very rare to see such a deep, strong connection between two people…"

Sara turned her questioning eyes towards Mary. The older woman smiled knowingly before continuing. "It's your eyes, Sara, they give you away."

"Grissom's always talked about returning to the Rainforest…he could have just decided to take another sabbatical, a break from CSI. Warrick's death hit him very hard and…"

"CSI?" asked Mary. "Isn't that what you said you used to do?"

Sara nodded. "And I couldn't take it any more. Too much has happened Mary, I can't go back to that life."

"Maybe he's come all the way here because he doesn't want you to. Have you considered that possibility?"

"His work's his life, Mary. It's always been that way. It's always come first."

"Maybe." Mary murmured, putting her hand on Sara's shoulder.

Sara's words had been said with such finality in her tone that Mary preferred to drop the issue. God the girl was infuriating. So stubborn. But Mary could see that she had nevertheless started to chip away at Sara's defences and she still had one more hand to play. She would have to tread carefully though or she would lose to young woman's trust.

"Come on; let me take you back to him. You wouldn't want him to wake up and not find you there now, would you?"

Mary got up from the bed, waited for Sara to do the same before linking her arm to hers as they stepped outside into the night.

It was a while before Sara spoke again. "You must think I'm a right mess."

"We all have our cross to bear, sweetheart. Now, be strong and no more tears…"

They took a few more steps in silence toward the infirmary, both lost in thoughts when Mary abruptly stopped – stopping Sara in the process. She turned to look at the younger woman's sad face. She watched her silently for a while before venturing.

"I've been wondering" she hesitated "about…" but on seeing Sara's look of alarm and gentle shake of the head, hollow eyes silently pleading 'no', she thought it preferable to change track. "…about the ring."

Sara's eyebrows shot up in surprise. This was the last thing she had been expecting. She seemed to ponder her next move for a long moment. Her mind made up, she wordlessly took out from under her blouse a matching wedding ring to the one Grissom had.

She played with the ring, a smile blossoming on her face, a twinkle appearing in her eyes. "Mary, what I'm going to share with you is our biggest secret…so you can't tell any one!"

"Scout's honour!" Mary joked, glad she had finally brought a smile to Sara's face.

"Well, where do I start? In our line of work, we aren't allowed…nobody knew we were seeing each other – it had taken years for us to get together, you have to understand that" she said excitedly, "and when he finally proposed it was the single most unexpected, most romantic and happiest moment of my life. I honestly didn't think he'd have it in him to do it, you know?" Sara was broadly grinning at the memory.

The two women resumed their slow wander back toward the infirmary, arm in arm.

"Anyway, he was tending to his bees" Sara continued as Mary cast her a questioning glance coupled with a puzzled frown, "don't ask, you've got to know him, he's a real bug man, another story, another time!" She shrugged her shoulders, smiling. "So he was with his bees and we hadn't seen each other for a while because we were working different shifts"

She paused briefly as images of Natalie and the desert flashed through her mind. Deep sorrow haunted her eyes and it seems to take a few seconds for her to remember what she had been saying. She smiled shyly before resuming.

"Anyway, I wanted to spend some time with him. So, I put this bee suit on, hat, netting and all – I must have looked a right sight! and I went in there … – and God knows bees are not my best friends…by a long way and when he suggested I take one of the gloves off, I did. He wasn't wearing any himself so…" she shrugged her shoulders in a 'I trust him' kind of way. "And you know what happened?" Sara's mouth twitched as she fought a smile.

"You got stung?" Mary was trying but failing to stifle her laughter.

"Just as he was proposing!" Sara laughed at the fond memory. "Anyway, to cut a long story short we got the rings but never got round to getting married, what, with work and…"

"You don't seem upset you didn't do it."

"Honestly, I'm not. Proposing was commitment enough to me. Grissom…how can I put it? doesn't handle matters of the heart very well. And marriage, well it's never something I envisaged for myself anyway. Looking back, it's for the best, really."

"How so?"

Sara shrugged. "There never was a right time to do it and then when I fell apart and fled…well, it just never came up again. When I ran away, I lost the best thing that had ever happened to me. I hurt him, Mary, I did the only thing I'd sworn I'd never do and I betrayed his trust. I can't take it back, now. Can't make it go away. It's too late." she finished regretfully.

"I don't know about that. Love does funny things to people. You left but it doesn't mean that the love you had for each other ended though, does it? And by the looks of things, I'd say I'm pretty right."

"What do you mean?" inquired Sara.

"You both wear your rings close to you hearts, what more proof do you need? Follow the evidence, Sara."

Sara's head snapped up at Mary's choice of phrase.

Grissom's mantra.

Concentrate on what cannot lie, Sara, the evidence. Grissom's soft voice echoed in her mind and in her heart. How many times had Grissom cited those words to her?

"Life's given you another chance, Sara." Mary continued. "Grab it! It's going to work out…I have a feeling. You just got to believe. Sara?"

But Sara was no longer listening; her eyes were distant, her expression strangely grave. On hearing Mary calling her name again, her attention snapped back to her. "Huh? Sorry."

"I'm sorry, Sara." Mary smiled.

"Whatever for?"

"This little chat was meant to cheer you up, not bring back painful memories."

"It has, Mary, more than you imagine. You've made me remember the happiest times of my life, and maybe…"

Her plans for a quick departure were forgotten – for now anyway.

Tbc.

A/N: This chapter doesn't flow as nicely as I'd like it to…I had a few issues with it…I hope it reads OK.