AN: So, updates still not as quick as I would like them to be, but working on it :) Thanks so much to everyone for your kind words last prompt after my long haitus, really means the world and is beyond appreciated. Hope you are all doing well.
Just a word of warning, you may get the general idea from the nature of the prompt, but this one ended up a bit sad. So, just keep that in mind before you choose to read. No actual character deaths occur or are depicted in the story, but gets close in the subject matter. I also tried to keep the specific diagnosis a little bit vague, just giving a general umbrella term for the type of disease instead of a more specific name - trying to be respectful to anyone with this type of condition or anything similar. Nothing but respect is intended during this story, as with all my stories, so please feel free to let me know if I failed to do that anywhere.
Take care and enjoy.
Prompt: "I would like to see something like Cath taking care of Sara, when they discover that Sara suffers from chronic disease like multiple sclerosis or even the cardiological."
- Submitted by: suansil4
PROMPT 11
It started out with a joke. She actually joked about it. Telling Sara that she was getting clumsy in her old age, despite the fact that Sara was barely in her mid-thirties and about ten years her junior. But, she joked all the same, as Sara rolled her eyes good naturedly and tried to hide her own smile.
They hadn't taken it seriously. After all, it was just a fall while out on a run. Embarrassing, but not uncommon. Especially when Sara tends to go for runs in dim lighting and rough trails, often after an exhausting shift. If it had been Catherine, she's sure she'd have fallen over a dozen times by now. In fact, they both considered themselves lucky that this hadn't happened before.
So, they joked, cleaning Sara's scraped knee and trading laughs about it, simply glad there was no serious damage done.
The second time it happened, Catherine was a little more reserved in her joking, but still shook her head in slight amusement all the same – after making sure Sara was okay of course. Just a few scrapes like last time, easily cleaned and quickly forgotten about.
Until the third time it happened.
Then, there wasn't much joking in either of their eyes, instead, a tentative quiet, a strange nervousness of unspoken words. A thickness to the air as Catherine wiped the small trickle of blood from Sara's elbow. She was afraid to ask, afraid to probe, nervously glancing at Sara's tense expression. Neither of them said much, both trying to ignore the worry rising somewhere deep within.
Sara was a good athlete, always had been. Clumsy was never in her descriptions. Instead, words like athlete of the year, division MVP, three time state champion in both track and soccer. Sara was gifted in athletics, her scholarships at Harvard having been academic, but might as well have also been in athletics. She flourished on the field, on the track, and even now, she always had a grace, a powerful control over her own body and her own limits – pushing them past anything Catherine thought was possible. She's never known Sara to slip up, to fall or misstep.
One time could be chalked up to embarrassing bad luck. Two times maybe.
But not three.
Still, neither of them say anything, Catherine not wanting to offend her partner who already looks like she's beating herself up all her own. She knows Sara's embarrassed, not wanting to draw attention to herself, to what she perceives as a personal mistake or shortcoming. Sara's always been hard on herself, so Catherine leaves her questions to herself, her comments and concerns tucked down neatly beside them. Sara's pride looks like it's taken a big enough hit without them.
They try to forget about it, Sara continuing on her runs as usual. But, Catherine worries when Sara stops coming home directly after, instead heading into the lab to shower and change. Part of her wants to know if Sara's doing it to hide other falls, other mishaps.
The larger part of her is too afraid to know.
When the concerns cross over into work, Catherine can no longer avoid them. No longer spare the woman she loves from the awkward questions, the uncomfortable conversation. Worry is eating Catherine from the inside out, and she can't ignore her fears any longer. Can't allow Sara to either.
"I got it," Catherine says gently, keeping her voice quiet so the conversation remains solely between the two of them despite the busy scene. Gently taking the camera from Sara's shaking hand, she pulls the brunette carefully to her feet.
Sara sways, and it does nothing to alleviate her worry. In fact, her heart is quickening its already rapid pace in her chest, nervous eyes meeting with Sara's.
She'd watched Sara struggle to work the camera for nearly five minutes, the younger woman seeming to have trouble coordinating her grip with one hand while holding the evidence marker next to the bullet casings with the other. An action they all do repeatedly nearly a hundred times a shift with each and every piece of evidence, easily and smoothly. Especially Sara, one of the most efficient on their team when it comes to documenting a scene.
But, today it looks like the task is as challenging for Sara as climbing Mount Everest. Blindfolded. Something is very, very wrong.
"I'm going to get some water," Sara mumbles, eyes lowering from Catherine's concerned ones, quick to step away and put distance between them. But, even now, her gait is unsteady, left leg unusually extended as her body tries to compensate for an apparent lack of coordination from her right.
Catherine's heart, already sinking, plummets deep into her chest.
"Are we going to talk about it?"
Sara doesn't move, watching the scenery passing the window of their SUV as it travels down the busy Las Vegas streets.
"There's nothing to talk about."
While outside the car is filled with noise and activity, the inside is as silent as a church at midnight.
"Sara," Catherine tries gently, nearly begging for this not to be an argument. Not to be another ignored event, brushed under a rug that's already overflowing from their unspoken words. "Please, honey."
Some of the tension leaves her companion's tightly clenched jaw, replaced with something much sadder, much harder to watch.
"Not now," Sara's quiet request fills the air. "Not here."
Catherine nods, respecting Sara's request to leave this for later, when they're both at home, private and uninterrupted. Maybe this way they can also both keep pretending that these two worlds, work and their concerns, are two separate entities – keep trying to ignore how deeply one bled into the other just hours before.
Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Catherine guides the SUV through the last miles towards the lab. With the other, she reaches out, gently taking Sara's in her own.
When they arrive home, they complete all the tasks they can find to distract themselves with to avoid the conversation and the realities it will force them to face. Dinner, showers, tidying up the house.
It's like when you spill your coffee, those brief moments you hesitate before daring to look down at the rug and see what damage has been done. Until you look, you can force yourself to believe it hasn't really happened.
Schrodinger's cat, perpetually alive and unharmed.
But, when they run out of distractions, Catherine decides it's finally time to face this reality. This reality that scares her, terrifies her, and is eating her alive not addressing.
"Sara," she calls softly, watching the brunette still her motions at the sink. "Let's sit."
Sit meaning talk. The blonde watches her partner take a deep breath, steeling herself for what's to come. For addressing what's already come.
Drying her hands, Sara moves to join her in the living room, taking a seat on the opposite end of their couch. Without hesitation, Catherine moves closer, reaching out to hold Sara's hand tightly in hers. They need to be one in this, the realities horrifying them both, but even more so if they try to approach this separately. The only way they're getting through any of this is if they do it together, just like they always have in the past.
"What happened today at the scene?" Catherine gently probes, figuring it's a good of a place to start this difficult conversation as any.
Sara shakes her head, eyes lowered, "You know what happened."
The blonde knew this wasn't going to be easy, getting Sara to talk about herself rarely is. But, this isn't something she can give the stoic woman a pass on, allow her to tuck this down deep inside. Whatever this is won't allow them, stubbornly permeating their lives, now their work lives.
"Sara, I'm scared," Catherine admits, always the opposite to Sara when it comes to her own emotions. And sharing them. "Your falls while running, now this at the scene…" Taking a deep breath, Catherine tightens her grip on the younger woman's hand. "Something's wrong."
"I'm sure it's nothing," Sara mutters out, trying to sound unconcerned. But, her eyes give her away. They always have.
"We need to get you looked at," Catherine pushes forward, not backing down. "Quickly."
"This isn't a big deal," Sara again tries, back stiff. "A few clumsy falls, trouble at a scene that was likely caused by lack of food and sleep. Let's not make this into some big thing when it isn't."
"Prove to me it isn't," Catherine challenges. "Then I'll let it go." Shaking her head, she both respects and curses Sara's desire to always be the strong one, to always try to convince the world, especially Catherine, that there's never anything wrong. Or never anything wrong that she can't handle.
This, however, may be the thing that finally proves to be Sara's match. Both of theirs, really.
It's the fear that's nagging deep in the blonde's stomach, tightening her heart in her chest to the point that she can barely breathe. Somewhere, deep inside, she knows this problem isn't going away, isn't something small or trivial.
And, looking over at Sara's downcast eyes, she gets the sincere feeling that the brunette knows it, too.
Which, scares her even more.
It takes another week before Sara is finally able to break herself away from her busy schedule enough to make an appointment with her primary care doctor. Part of her considers not telling Catherine, informing her only when her doctor ensures her there's nothing for them to be worrying about. But, the larger part of her knows how disrespectful that would be to the woman who's always been the most supportive and caring person in Sara's life. The old Sara may have done that, the one who still fought against Catherine's attempts of care and concern when they first got together. But now, nearly three years later, she can't find it in her to treat Catherine in such a dismissive and disrespectful way.
So, she calls her, knowing the blonde is out on a scene, informing her of the appointment time that evening and asking if she wanted to join. Of course Catherine did, and the hours fly by the rest of the day until the appointment time is a mere half hour from starting.
Taking a deep breath, Sara startles when she feels a hand on her hip.
Turning, she sees Catherine's warm eyes and small smile. "Sorry," the older woman apologizes, "didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay," Sara says, taking a deep breath to steady the nerves she can't quite stifle. Leaning down, she places a gentle kiss on her partner's lips, the one thing that's always seemed to bring her calm. "Thanks for coming."
Catherine nods, tightening her hold around Sara's hips, "Of course."
They're both too nervous to sit, anxiously standing amidst the meticulously clean waiting room, watching each patient as they come and go through the office.
Until, finally, Sara's name is called from the doorway.
"Sara," her doctor greets her warmly when she enters the exam room, closing the door behind her. "So nice to see you."
She reaches over, giving Sara a steady handshake, smile genuine.
The older woman has seen her patient through a lot of ups and downs throughout the years, most of them following injuries at work or tough cases that the doctor could pick up on at Sara's yearly exams. She'd never admit it to anyone, but Sara Sidle is probably one of her favorite patients. She doesn't complain, rarely admits when she's struggling, and always seems to take her visits with an eye roll and a smirk. All the things a doctor should normally hate.
But, Sara's strong, resilient, and no nonsense attitude has always been one the physician has respected. Sara doesn't mess around, expects excellence from herself even more than those around her, and she can respect that. Not to mention that she's learned her way around more than a few of Sara's walls throughout the years, leaving them with a very comfortable, very cherished patient physician relationship.
And, the feeling is mutual. While the brunette typically hates physicians and having to see them, Dr. Julie Eastman has always been the one exception. She doesn't coddle, doesn't placate. She's honest, efficient, and reasonable. She's also the one and only person Sara would trust right now.
"Catherine, great to see you as well," Dr. Eastman offers, giving Catherine a warm handshake also.
Sara's usually alone when she comes to her visits, but Dr. Eastman has watched throughout the years the changes in her patient that occurred when she first got together with the blonde, then as their relationship developed and grew. And, all of the changes good ones, if Dr. Eastman is honest.
"So," she calls, getting serious as she sits at the desk, glancing through Sara's chart. "What brings you in? The intake information was pretty vague."
Sara nods, taking a deep breath, "I didn't really know how to explain to the scheduler…what's been happening."
"Okay," Dr. Eastman says gently, putting the chart down on the desk and giving Sara her full attention. "Why don't you start at the beginning, just tell me what's been going on as best you can."
So, Sara does. Telling her about the falls while running, the trouble with coordination at the scene, giving as much information as she feels the doctor would need, but hating to say the words aloud.
"I feel stupid for even being here," she concludes. "It's probably nothing, just getting old and clumsy or too little sleep. I shouldn't be wasting your time with this."
"Please," Dr. Eastman smiles, "I just got done convincing a grown man he wasn't going to exsanguinate from hemorrhoids. That was silly. This, however, is definitely not. I know you, and you wouldn't be here if this was nothing."
Moving her chair closer to Sara's, she gestures towards her legs. "Tell me more about how it felt when you fell during your runs. What your legs felt like before and after."
Sara shakes her head, "I was just running one minute, then the next it's like I had no control over it – like it wouldn't move where I needed it to be."
Dr. Eastman nods, eyes narrowing in thought. "One leg or both?"
"Right one."
"Each time?"
Sara nods, "Always the right one."
Dr. Eastman glances at Sara's legs, then her arms. "And at the scene, with the camera. Same problem?"
Sara nods, "It's like I couldn't get the muscles to do what I needed, I just lost control over them."
"Same side?"
Sara swallows, nodding. "Right arm."
"Comes and goes? Arms and legs both feel normal when it's not happening?"
Sara again nods, confirming her question.
"Okay," Dr. Eastman takes a breath, standing and gesturing for Sara to do the same. "I'm going to ask you to do some things, just do them the best you can."
"Alright," Sara takes her own deep breath, letting it out slowly as she stands.
The doctor leads her through a list of commands, most of which Sara accomplishes easily. With each successful task, the brunette seems to lose just a bit more of her nervous rigidity. After all, if she's acing this exam, then there really can't be anything seriously wrong. This, indeed, is looking like a waste of Dr. Eastman's time.
But, then, there comes a task that has her heart sinking in her chest. One which Sara cannot seem to accomplish. A task which should be nearly the easiest of them all, having her struggling.
"One more time, Sara," Dr. Eastman gently pushes. "Finger back to mine as quickly as you can."
Sara again overshoots, landing instead somewhere towards Dr. Eastman's shoulder.
Tightening her jaw, she tries over again, with the same nerve wracking result each time.
"Fuck," she mutters out, angry at herself and the perceived failure.
"Sara," Dr. Eastman calls softly, reaching out and stilling the stubborn woman's arm from trying yet a fourth time. "Stop. If you could do all these you wouldn't be here. You already knew something wasn't right. Nothing's changed. Now let's focus on figuring out what it is."
The words are direct, honest, and the type of approach Sara both needs and respects. Taking a steadying breath, she nods.
Taking a seat back next to Catherine, the blonde immediately takes her hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.
"Look," Dr. Eastman tells them as she sits down. "This could be something minor, easily fixed or even resolves on its own."
"Or…" Catherine probes, needing to hear the rest.
"Or it could be something more serious." Grabbing her pen, Dr. Eastman writes a few lines on Sara's chart. "I need to do some more tests to give us a better idea of what's going on." Meeting Sara's eyes, she keeps them there. "Including some brain imaging. Sounds scary, I know. But, it's the best way to see what's happening in some of the places that control movement, especially since it seems to come and go, suggesting it's not a problem with the arm or leg itself, but rather the signals getting there."
Sara swallows, nodding. "Whatever you need to do is fine. I just want answers so I can get back to my life."
Something passes in Dr. Eastman's eyes that Catherine catches, yet neither comment. Instead, they stand, shaking hands with detailed instructions for follow-up and the next steps. But, that look haunts Catherine for the entire evening and well into the dark hours of the night.
Sara insists that she go to the imaging appointments alone, not wanting Catherine to have to take any more time off work. They're having a hard enough time keeping things private with the few days Sara's requested off to go to her follow-up appointments. Catherine only agrees when Sara promises that they'll go to the results appointment together.
By the time it comes around about two weeks later, they're both exhausted, emotionally frayed and raw to levels they've never quite experienced before. They know this is it, the moment when they learn if this is nothing, or if this is serious.
When Dr. Eastman walks in the room, setting herself in the seat across from them, they can immediately tell by the look on her face which one it is.
"You have an answer," Sara gets out, voice tight.
Dr. Eastman nods, expression serious as she gives the results with emotion filled eyes, knowing how the words are going to drastically change the lives of the two very dear women receiving them.
In the resulting conversation, Catherine picks up on very little beyond the name. A rare type of cerebellar ataxia. Then, key phrases that jog reactions from somewhere deep within her. Progressive. No cure. Decline.
The rest is a hazy fog, swimming at the bottom of the ocean while trying to hear words being discussed back on shore.
Gripping Sara's hand, she watches her partner's pale features, her own expression looking stoic. Too stoic.
When Dr. Eastman hugs each of them, Catherine can barely feel anything, wondering how in the hell Sara can be asking about follow-up plans. How the hell she can even be forming words right now.
As Dr. Eastman hands them paperwork and sends Sara to the desk to schedule the next appointments, she pulls the blonde gently aside.
"I'm so sorry, Catherine," she says softly, keeping her voice low. "I know this is a lot to take in."
The blonde stares numbly ahead, watching Sara as she answers questions from the receptionist.
"She's my life," the blonde gets out, words getting lost in the fog surrounding Catherine's mind.
But, Dr. Eastman hears them just fine, placing her hand on the CSI's shoulder. Giving Catherine's shoulder a squeeze, she knows there aren't really words for moments like these, nothing she can truly say or do to make this better. So, instead, she stands with Catherine in silence, keeping her company until Sara finishes scheduling, giving them both a final hug as she tells them she'll be seeing them soon.
As they walk out the door, she can't help but send a silent prayer after them, knowing this day is probably going to be one of the hardest they'll have in their lives.
Over the next month, their approaches to the diagnosis couldn't have been different. Catherine was on every website, perusing every article, talking to every affected family she could find. There wasn't enough time in the day to get all the information she sought, wanting to know this disease backwards and forwards so that she and Sara would have the most knowledge possible as they face it. If there was even one snippet of information that would help the woman she loves during this process she was damn well going to find it.
Sara, on the other hand, acted like the diagnosis never happened. She shuts down any conversations Catherine tries to initiate regarding it, burying herself in her work to the point that Catherine barely sees her on the average day. When she is off shift, Sara is out running, spending hours away in nature and only coming home to shower before heading back in. Catherine knows this is her non-coping way of coping, but it's hard to feel like they're two separate entities trying to fight a battle from opposite continents.
Sara is withdrawn, and Catherine expected this from her private lover to some extent. But, it's been harder than she expected to watch it happen, to witness Sara shutting her out and avoiding the issue that's so glaringly stormed into their lives.
"You can't keep doing this," Catherine states quietly but tightly as she reaches for a cloth from the bathroom counter.
The trickle of blood coming from the brunette's shin is slow but steady. The dark crimson filters through the previously white cloth, spreading out in blotches.
"You're going to seriously hurt yourself one of these times," Catherine proceeds when it becomes obvious that her companion has no intention of responding. "What if you fall in a remote area and can't get yourself back to your car? What if you hit your head or incapacitate yourself out in the middle of the desert?"
Sara's eyes remain on the floor, where they've stayed ever since Catherine walked in on her to find out why she was taking way longer than usual in the bathroom. Sara has remained exactly where she found her, on the floor leaning against the bathtub, blood from her leg slowly dripping onto their tile.
"I know you love to run, sweetheart, but this isn't going to work. You're going to get yourself killed one of these days."
This time, Sara finally speaks, but Catherine almost wishes she hadn't when the words register.
"What does it matter."
Stopping her motions along Sara's leg, Catherine's eyes shoot to the defeated looking woman beside her.
"What does it matter if you kill yourself on one of your runs?" Catherine's voice is tight, angry. "Are you seriously fucking asking me that?"
Sara's jaw clenches, her head turned away, "Either that gets me or this disease does. Only the disease will take a much longer time, slowly stealing from me everything I love one by one until I'm useless to myself and everyone around me."
Catherine is speechless. After nearly a month of no communication between them regarding Sara's diagnosis, this is like swift punch in the face. Sara is finally talking about it, acknowledging it, but in a way that steals Catherine's breath away.
"Sar-"
Before she can get her words out, Sara is already shoving to a stand, grabbing the doorway to get her balance as she pushes swiftly through it. It's not a moment later when the blonde hears the front door open and slam closed behind her.
"Fuck." Catherine's face lands in her hands, the silent tears there wetting her fingers as she sits silently amongst the smears of blood.
When Sara avoids her, she can handle it. Not ideal, but also not unforeseen. But, when Sara starts avoiding her doctor, that's where Catherine draws the line.
"She needs to stay on top of these checkups," Dr. Eastman says gently, knowing the blonde already knows this. And, more importantly, knowing that the blonde isn't who she's upset with. Her forever stubborn and self-destructive patient is. "They're the best way to track the progress of the disease."
Catherine nods, tapping her keys angrily against her fingers. She'd shown up, hoping beyond hope that Sara would show to the appointment that was scheduled over a month ago. But, instead, Catherine sat alone in the waiting room until Dr. Eastman found her out there, almost a half hour past Sara's scheduled appointment time.
"I'm so sorry your family is going through this," Dr. Eastman breathes out with a long sigh, hand placed on Catherine's shoulder. "Please let me know if there's any way I can help."
Catherine lets out a sigh of her own, pushing herself out of the stiff plastic chair. "I'm starting to worry we may be beyond help, or at least headed there at a very rapid pace."
"Dr. Eastman gives her regards."
Nick looks up with a confused expression the same time Sara's own body stiffens. Dark, hazel eyes slowly lift from the breakroom table, landing to meet on Catherine's for what feels like the first time in weeks.
"What?" Sara gets out, voice as stiff as her expression.
"She told me to tell you hello and that she missed you yesterday."
Sara's jaw tightens, her hand firmly gripping her coffee mug.
"Who's Dr. Eastman?" Nick questions curiously, noting the tension in the room.
"An old friend of mine," Sara interjects before Catherine has a chance to say anything further, reveal anything further. "We were supposed to have dinner but I got stuck here on a case."
"Bummer," Nick offers, knowing just how often their work can come in the way of their social lives.
Sara stands, downing her coffee and placing the mug not so gently in the sink. Turning, she gives Catherine one last darkened glance before she exits the room.
"That was unfair, not to mention out of line."
"Oh," Catherine laughs darkly, "I was out of line?"
"We agreed not to discuss this with work until it becomes absolutely necessary. You betrayed that."
"Yeah?" Catherine shrugs. "Well, we agreed on a lot of things. Things which you betrayed, not me."
"It was one appointment, Catherine," Sara defends stiffly. "Not the end of the world."
"You're avoiding them," the older woman puts the larger truth out in the open. "Just like you're avoiding me."
"That's bullshit."
"Is it?" Catherine presses, taking a small step closer to her partner. "You avoid me at work, you're never home, you bury yourself in this back lab hoping that no one is around to notice what's happening in your life."
"That's uncalled for," Sara's voice is low, angry.
"It's honest," Catherine counters, own voice balancing between stern and gentle. "I'm not saying it to hurt you, honey, but we need to be honest with one another if we're going to figure out a way through this."
"There is no way through this, Catherine," Sara gets out, throat tight. "There's no solving or concluding this. There's just this. It just gets worse and worse until it eventually kills me. There's nothing else."
The sobriety of the situation hovers heavily in the air, pushing in around them, within them. Compressing their insides until they both feel like choking would be easier than breathing.
"Then what about the time between?" Catherine finally finds a way to ask, eyes watering even as she tries to hold the emotions back. "What about our life between now and then, Sara? We let this tear us slowly apart until there's nothing but this angry bitterness left? Ruin whatever remaining years we do have?"
Catherine's hold on her emotions start to crumble, one lone tear escaping after another.
"We don't know what the future holds for any of us, Sar. One of us could get killed at a scene, in a car accident, by some other terrible event long before this has a chance to. I don't want to waste any moment of my life with you. But, to do that, I need you to let me in, to stop shutting me out and let me be with the person I love more than this life."
Sara swallows hard, hating to see the emotions tearing through the strongest woman she's ever known. With one hesitant step forward, then another, she slowly makes her way to Catherine.
Reaching out, she wipes gently at the tears trailing down the blonde's face, "I never wanted this, Catherine. Any of this." Letting out a long breath filled with what can best be described as defeat, Sara wishes that this was all just a nightmare they'd wake up from. "I wanted our life together to be so different from this. You didn't sign up for any of this when we met, it isn't fair to you."
"Oh," Catherine laughs tightly, "and it's fair to you?"
This drags just the barest hint of a smile from the serious brunette, "It's bullshit. For both of us."
Catherine nods, bringing up her hands to gently take the younger woman's from their place along her cheeks. "It sure is. But we're stronger than this. Stronger than anything life can throw at us, Sara. But only if we face it together."
"I'm not used to…"
"I know, babe," Catherine squeezes Sara's hands, knowing more than anyone the challenges and darkness of her lover's past. The complete absence of love, of support, of someone caring about her wellbeing and standing faithfully by her side. "But you can trust me. This is what I want, you are what I want."
"I'll still never understand why," Sara mutters, slight amusement in her eyes. "But who am I to question your delusions?"
Catherine laughs, the first genuine one it feels like she's had in ages. "Damn right, Sidle. Let this senile old woman have her fantasies."
Rolling her eyes, Sara shakes her head slightly before she pulls Catherine towards her, wrapping her arms tightly around the blonde and holding her close.
"I love you," she whispers out, eyes closing under all the emotions still pouring through her. "You know that, right?"
"I know," Catherine confirms, tightening her grip on the woman that represents everything beautiful in her life. Now and always. "I know."
The next few years are trying on both women. There's periods of stability regarding Sara's symptoms, plateaus where the disease stops progressing, giving them months of welcome reprieve. But, slowly, it keeps advancing, taking a little more of Sara's independence with it as it does.
They'd kept it from the guys at work for as long as they could. But, when Sara had a particularly bad episode at a remote scene, losing her footing in a very precarious desert landscape, they finally had to confess what they'd been trying to mask for the better part of two years.
The conversation was difficult, to say the least. Especially on Sara, knowing that the revelation of her diagnosis would essentially spell the end for her typical work life. Things would change as a result, and they certainly have.
Sara's still a CSI, becoming one of the most accomplished and awarded members of their field. Her mind is amongst the most brilliant, never faltering even while her body declines bit by bit. She now remains mostly in the lab, working collaboratively on almost every case, helping process evidence in the layout rooms and running theories that elude even her superiors. She's an asset to their team, just as she always has been.
But, even with her continued successes, Catherine knows how much Sara misses being in the field. Seeing the scene, the evidence, the body, all of it in its original setting. There's nothing like that initial walkthrough, taking everything in, mentally collecting all the puzzle pieces you will later desperately try to fit together. It's part of what Catherine loves most about her job, and she knows as much as anyone what a loss it's been for the woman she loves.
But, in true stubborn Sidle spirit, it's just made Sara work harder at what she is able to take part in, forcing her to adapt and adjust just like she's had to do in other areas of her life.
No longer able to go for her cherished runs, Sara instead has found a passion for photography. Finding her way out to remote locations, sometimes with Catherine's help and sometimes without, she's taken to capturing the world through her lens in ways that always manage to take the blonde's breath away. While the tremors that have developed in Sara's hands somewhat affect her while shooting, she's also developed ways around it in her characteristically stubborn and resourceful nature. Using items nearby to act as tripods, remote shutters, even synching her phone to her camera to use voice controls on particularly bad days.
Sara had always told her that her favorite thing about running was the escape it provided, the time it allowed her thoughts to roam and flee from the challenges and devastations of everyday life. Now, she escapes in a different way, capturing views of the world around her, offering windows and glimpses into worlds other than her own.
Today, it's a rare trip the two have taken together, Sara inviting Catherine along with her since they both had the day off. Catherine was more than eager to accept.
Finding themselves along a ledge that mixes urban with nature, they are seated along a cement and chain link barrier that separates them from the valley below. Behind them lies one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Vegas, each of them having taken more than a few calls to scenes in this area. In front of them lies one of the most beautiful views of the valley. It's a curious and contradictory mix of worlds, perhaps the exact reason Sara wanted to shoot here.
"It's weird being in this neighborhood for pleasure rather than work," Catherine comments absently after nearly an hour of silence, giving Sara her peace and quiet to accomplish her task.
Sara laughs slightly, taking a few more photos from different angles.
"I used to live here."
The comment draws Catherine's head to swivel to the right, watching Sara to see if she's pulling her leg.
But, Sara puts her camera down to her lap, legs absently swinging over the edge. Seeing Catherine's expression, the younger woman laughs.
"What?" she questions, eyebrow raised.
"You used to live here?" Catherine's eyes are wide at the thought. "Why?"
Laughing again, Sara's eyes sparkle with amusement. "Why not?"
"It's, uh, let's just say…a little unsafe?" Catherine poses, trying to be an inoffensive as she can.
Sara shrugs, eyes roaming over the space around them. "It is," she concedes. "But it was also the only place I could afford when I first moved here."
"Really?" the blonde wonders aloud, not expecting that response.
Sara shrugs, "My house in California hadn't sold yet, so I didn't really have any wiggle room in the budget for about a year until it finally sold."
"How did I not know this?" Catherine asks, wondering how she didn't know something as simple as Sara's location for the better part of a year.
"We weren't really on speaking terms most of the beginning of my time out here," Sara offers with a slight smile, sending Catherine a look.
Always regretful of their rocky beginning, the blonde curses the time lost. "We were such idiots."
Laughing, Sara agrees. "I was so enamored yet terrified of you during that time. I think I probably said two words to you that weren't work related our entire first year together."
"I wasn't any better," Catherine confesses. "The words I did say were horrible since I was too busy feeling threatened by you to give you the time of day."
"Threatened by me?" Sara laughs out loud at this. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I was!" Catherine laughs herself, swatting her younger companion on the shoulder. "Here comes this beautiful, young, hot shot CSI from California. I felt like you were going to come in and take over, pushing me slowly out the door."
"Then you realized I was much too introverted to even dream of such a thing," Sara jokes, still finding it hard to fathom Catherine being insecure of anything, let along herself.
Catherine can only laugh, "That just made you more threatening. I never had the remotest clue what was going on in that head of yours. Were you enjoying work? Were you hating your life? Were you slowly plotting my death in your head?"
Sara smiles, looking over at Catherine until their eyes meet.
"Nope. I was slowly falling in love with you, actually."
Catherine's heart skips, taking in Sara's expression and the earnest confession, the words and the meaning behind them. The genuine revelation from a woman that keeps so much of her life, her feelings, private.
"I'm glad we finally got our acts together," Catherine breathes out, eyes already moistening at the emotions she's trying to keep together. "So incredibly glad."
Sara leans in, placing a gentle kiss on Catherine's lips. "Me too."
"I got you," Catherine puts her arm around Sara's waist, giving Sara time to get her bearings, feeling the sway in her companion. "Take your time."
Sara doesn't have the heart to comment, to tell Catherine that she couldn't really go any faster even if she'd wanted to. She's slowly adjusted to using a cane or other assistance devices while at work, the ataxia now affecting both her left and right sides. But, for short trips – around the house, back and forth to the car, in and out from the parking lots, etc – she still tries to use her own power. She knows this privilege won't last, and she wants to enjoy every last minute of it while she can. Soon the cane will turn to more serious assistance.
So, for today, she's going to give her legs an extra push, and try to cherish the challenge while she has the gift to do so.
"Sorry," she mumbles out, however, when she realizes just how much of her weight Catherine is holding up. While she's all for challenging herself, she doesn't want to burden Catherine – at least not any more than she already has been and will be going forward.
"Don't be," Catherine wraps her arms even tighter around Sara's waist. "I've been wanting to hold you all day. Wasn't exactly the situation I'd pictured, but I'll take it."
Sara rolls her eyes with a small laugh, dragging her legs as best as she can manage, body straining from the effort. "I'm sure we could've arranged something other than this."
"Maybe," Catherine shrugs. "But this way you have no excuse to leave my arms."
"I don't…" Sara tries to argue with a grumble.
"You did," the blonde laughs at the memories. "When we first got together. You weren't the most, touchy feely shall we say? Took me at least a month for you to return hugs with any sort of enthusiasm. Another two months for you to sit still enough for me to cuddle with you on the couch."
Sara grabs the broken fence post near the car door, taking a very brief but very needed break before their final push to the Tahoe.
"I did no such thing," she contests, though having a very good idea that Catherine is absolutely right.
Catherine's look she's sending her way expresses that very message loud and clear.
"You were a bit of a tough girl when we first started dating," Catherine smiles. "But, slowly, I broke into those guarded walls of yours. Now you hug me for at least five seconds when I ask."
Sara swats her free arm out, generally aiming for the area of Catherine's shoulder. "I hug for at least ten seconds. Don't be dramatic."
Smiling, Catherine reaches out, keeping one firm hand on Sara and opening the passenger side of their car with the other. "You going to show me the pictures you took when we get home?"
Sara shakes her head, pushing unsteadily from the fence to take a chance at the car. Stumbling, Catherine grabs her before she can fall, not saying anything as she helps lift Sara up and into the passenger seat.
"You know the rules," Sara breaths out, working to catch her breath from the efforts of the last few minutes. "Nothing until they're printed."
"I'll never understand you," Catherine shakes her head as she closes the door to move around and enter the driver seat. "If I took as beautiful of pictures as you I'd be showing them off to everyone I knew the second I took them."
"They're not that great," Sara says, always the humble one much to Catherine's frustrations. "But part of the fun is picking out the one you want, the one that represents what you were trying to capture. I don't want to bias my opinions of anything before I do that."
"Artists," Catherine starts the car. "So temperamental."
"I wish," Sara smiles back at the title. "Just a CSI borrowing their world for a bit."
"Taking their world by storm is more like it," Catherine reaches over, gathering the brunette's hand in hers, giving it a squeeze and keeping them joined the whole way home.
The next morning, Catherine is awoken by a thud, quickly followed up by a metallic crash.
Jerking upright, she scans around the room dimly lit by the early morning sunrays, trying to spot the source of the noise. It doesn't take her long to do so.
"Shit, Sara," she calls out, pushing hastily out of the bedsheets to run to the other side of the bed. "Are you okay?"
Sara's sprawled out awkwardly on the floor, the majority of the contents of the nightstand shattered around her.
"I'm okay," Sara tries to push upright, but finding it near impossible to get her arms to cooperate in the way she wants them to. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"Stop," Catherine calls, seeing Sara's hands trying to grip the floor amongst the shattered remains of their alarm clock. "There's a lot of sharp glass and metal, you're going to cut yourself."
"I can do it," Sara argues, trying desperately to prove her point.
But, they both watch with dismay that Sara, this time, really can't do it. Her legs tremble and push out in uncoordinated motions, similar to her arms. Neither appendages giving her the strength nor stability she needs to get herself sitting upright, let alone standing.
"Fuck," Sara growls out. Hating this moment, what it represents.
"It's alright, honey," Catherine tries to calm her, comfort her. Though, she honestly understands Sara's devastation, and is feeling it in her own way right along with her. "We knew this would happen."
"I thought I'd have more time," Sara's voice sounds frustrated, defeated in a way that she rarely allows herself to be. Always the strong one, it's extended to her diagnosis as well – always forcing herself, and Catherine, to see the positives in it. To see what she can still do, still accomplish rather than dwell on what's been taken from her.
But, this moment, it's hard for the independent brunette to swallow, tasting nothing but bitter.
While her circumstances had forced her to rely more on Catherine and others than she'd ever wanted to, she still maintained a level of independence that reassured her. That comforted her. While Catherine would help her walk or get around sometimes, she never had to help her with more…personal…tasks.
Not until now.
"It's not a big deal, Sara," Catherine tries to reassure her, knowing all the while how big of a deal it really is. Especially to someone as guarded and self-reliant as Sara Sidle. "We'll make this work."
"I'm sorry," Sara mutters out, feeling ashamed at what this next stage of the disease will mean not only for herself, but more importantly for Catherine. "You don't have to do this. We can find someone else."
"Do you want someone else?" Catherine asks genuinely, willing to do whatever it takes to make this even the least bit easier for the woman she loves. While she'd be devastated to not be the one Sara chooses to help her in this way, if that's what Sara wants she'll follow her wishes.
It takes Sara a long time to respond, each of them heavy and tense.
"I want to not burden you more than I already have. I want to not turn the woman I love and live with into my personal nurse. I want to be able to go to the fucking bathroom on my own, without needing someone to help me." Sara lets out a tired sigh, eyes closing as she drops her head back down to the cold, wooden floor. "I want a lot of things."
Reaching down, Catherine gently moves the wavy hair from Sara's eyes, stroking the locks gently as she trails her fingers along Sara's temple to her strong jawline.
She hates that Sara is going through this, that between the two of them this burden has fallen to the kindest and gentlest soul she knows. Sara's life has been a painful struggle from its start, holding so much darkness and heartache all the way back from her childhood years. Even now, with Sara's shirt riding up, Catherine can see the scar along her left hip, one of the many reminders of just how many lifetime's worth of torture this beautiful woman has had to endure.
Yet, here they are, with Sara yet again forced to endure another painful hurdle, this one without a resolution or any hope for a happy ending. She knows life isn't fair, her job alone showing her just how unfair it is for most people whom find themselves on the ugly side of fate. But, she'd give anything to spare Sara this. To take this burden from the woman who's spent her whole life fighting one battle after another. To give Sara respite from a world that's been so harsh, so cruel. To help even out the scales and give Sara this one reprieve.
But, she knows she can't, and to spend any more energy wishing it was her instead of Sara going through this is simply a waste of time. She can't change this for the woman she loves, but she sure as hell can try to make it is bearable for the brunette as possible.
But, only if Sara lets her.
"Babe," she places her hand along Sara's chest, feeling her heartbeat beneath her fingers. "I know you won't believe me, but I want to do this for you. I want to be the one you trust to take care of you. I don't see it the way you do. Not as a burden, but as an honor that you would trust me enough to let me do it."
Sara's eyes slowly blink open, narrowing as they meet Catherine's.
"This isn't an honor, Catherine. Having to take care of me in this way…it makes me feel like I'm…"
She doesn't finish her statement, Catherine already knowing what she's trying to say anyway.
"When I said I'd love you and cherish you always, this is what I meant. This changes nothing for me Sara, not in the way I see you, not in the way I love you, not in the way I respect you. I wish you didn't have to go through any of this, honey, you have no idea. But, since we can't change things, I at least want to be the one you let be by your side as you do." She trails her hand along Sara's neck, holding her head gently. "The choice is yours, Sara, and I'll honor whatever decision you make. But, please don't assume I don't want to do it. Quite the opposite."
Sara's silent for a while, then, she closes her eyes tightly, pushing her head back into the floor so forcefully that Catherine's heart clenches.
"I don't…" Sara struggles to get the words out. "I don't deserve you. I never did…"
"Shh," Catherine reaches over in surprise as she sees a tear leave from Sara's clenched eyes, trailing down her face to land on the cold floor. "Sara, honey…"
"You should have better than this," Sara gets out through a tight jaw. "Better than me. I can't let you do this…"
"Sara," Catherine breathes out, gently holding both sides of Sara's face steady, trying to keep her from hurting herself. "Shh, sweetheart. Relax honey, you're okay. We're okay."
All the time they've been going through everything, Sara's never broken down like this. She's been angry, rebellious, avoidant, yes. But she's never been this saddened, this...devastated. Part of Catherine expected it years ago, but, the other part of her knows Sara's resolve tends to hold out a lot longer than most other people's. And, ultimately, it took a turn of events that significantly affects Catherine for Sara to lose some of her resolve. She'd been forcing her composure when the disease only took from Sara herself, but, seeing it now having to significantly affect Catherine as well, it's finally causing her undoing.
Part of Catherine wants to kiss Sara for her ever selfless nature, but part of her also wants to shake the younger woman. To make her see herself as just as valuable, just as worthy of happiness as everyone around her. That she isn't expendable, that seeing Sara going through this has already affected Catherine. That this only finally gives the blonde something physically she can do to try to help.
"Please don't shut me out," Catherine begs, her own eyes growing moist at the thought. "Please don't try to spare me from this the way you've always tried to spare me from things. It would destroy me, Sara. Trust me enough to let me help you."
They both remain silent, tears joining more cold tears on the floor beside them, leaving them both feeling scraped bare, naked and exposed.
Finally, both trembling and exhausted, Sara opens her eyes. Meeting with Catherine's blue gaze, she searches for the truth behind the older woman's words.
Then, eventually, she nods her head, eyes closing as one final, silent tear escapes.
Leaning down, Catherine places a kiss to Sara's cheek, stopping the tear's path before it can hit the floor.
"Thank you," she whispers, feeling her own tears refill her eyes. "Thank you, Sara."
Picking Sara up gently from the floor, she carries her bridal style towards their bathroom. She's grateful that Sara's always been thin, giving her the ability to lift her without too much struggle. And, her heart breaks slightly at the fact that the muscle mass in Sara's legs has been reduced during the progression of her disease, making her even lighter than she's ever been.
Placing her down along the toilet, she helps Sara as she completes her business. Mostly, she assists in helping make sure Sara's steady, turning to the side to allow her as much privacy as she can.
When Sara finishes, she helps her stand, again sweeping her up bridal style when Sara can't hold her own weight.
Moving sideways, she sets Sara along the edge of the tub, making sure she has access to the railing to hold onto. Filling the basin with warm water, she quickly undresses, glancing over at Sara as she does so.
"Mind if I join you?" she quirks a brow, realizing she just assumed how this would go and wanting to give Sara a choice in the matter.
Sara's eyes still look devastated, haunted in a way that Catherine's never seen, but she lets out the barest hint of a smile at the question.
"Never."
"Good," Catherine smiles back, removing the remainder of her clothing.
Turning off the filling water, she reaches over, gently helping Sara out of her own clothes.
When they're both completely undressed, Catherine reaches out, helping Sara shift around on the edge of the tub to lower her gently into the water. Getting her situated safely, Catherine lowers herself in behind her.
Getting adjusted to the warm water, they both sit in silence for a bit, letting the comfort of the water release as much of their tension as possible.
When it comes time, Catherine grabs the soap and shampoo from the shelf, starting the cleaning process along Sara's body. Taking her time and trying to offer some soothing massages here and there, she knows she'll never get past the beauty of the woman before her. Despite the terrible circumstances that have brought them to this moment, she cherishes the good parts of it.
"You're so gorgeous," she breathes out without realizing the words are leaving her mouth.
Sara hums, raising a brow. "You looking in the mirror again?"
"Shut up," Catherine snorts. "You know who I'm referring to."
"The beautiful woman in the tub with me?"
"You're impossible."
"I'm honest."
"So am I."
"Hmm," Sara gets out, still seeming like her thoughts are miles away, but, her body slowly losing just a bit of its rigidity.
As Catherine cleans her own hair and body, she keeps an eye on Sara, the brunette leaned back against herself and the side of the tub, eyes closing as she leans her head against the tile wall. She knows she isn't asleep, but she watches her lover closely to make sure she's doing okay.
When Catherine finishes with herself, she lets them sit in the warm water for a bit longer, knowing they have the time. And, after the emotions of this morning, she knows they can both use the brief respite.
When the water starts turning cool, she finally removes her arms from their place around Sara, reaching over to gently run her fingers down the side of Sara's face instead. Sara's eyes flutter open as she looks over her shoulder at Catherine.
"You ready to get out?" the blonde asks.
"If you are."
Nodding, the blonde stands up first, exiting the tub. Reaching in, she hooks her arms under Sara's shoulders, drawing the woman up from the water and into a standing position. Waiting for Sara to get her balance, she helps her step over the tub, holding most of her weight. Reaching out to the counter, she takes the largest towel they have, wrapping it around their bodies and drying them off.
Watching Sara's expression the whole time, she helps get them both dried and dressed, neither of them saying much.
When they settle in for their traditional morning coffee together, it's with an air of tension and silence that's not typical for them.
Finally, Sara breaks the quiet as she swallows some of her coffee.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I know I'm not the best company this morning. I'm just…thinking. I guess."
"Of course," Catherine offers supportively. "There's a lot to think about. I know my own mind is swimming a bit."
Sara nods, letting out a breath as she moves one hand from her coffee to take Catherine's.
"I don't think I thank you often enough," Sara gets out, voice thick. "I don't think I could ever actually thank you often enough, to be honest."
"You do," Catherine counters, interlacing their fingers. "You do every time you let me in, every time you let me be here for you, every time you include me in this."
"Not sure that's a thanks so much as it is a curse," Sara offers honestly. "Everything in me tells me to spare you this. But, I have to trust what you're telling me, that you're being honest with me." Sara's eyes lift to Catherine's. "You always have been in the past."
"And I am now," Catherine reassures. "I promise you."
Bringing their joined hands up, Catherine places a gentle kiss along Sara's knuckles.
As she lowers them, she watches Sara warmly before she speaks again.
"What do you say we take the day off and go somewhere together. I think we need to stop by and see Dr. Eastman, let her know what's happening. But after that, let's get out of here for a while. Just pick a direction and see where we end up."
Sara lets out a long breath, watching their hands before she lets out the smallest of smiles.
"You're serious?" she poses.
"Very."
Looking up, Sara's smile expands, her grip tightening in Catherine's.
"Deal."
YEARS LATER
Running her fingers gently through Sara's hair, Catherine readjusts them so that Sara's fully enclosed in her arms, both of them lying together under the evening sun. Long lounge chair in a half-reclined position, they both watch the sunset over the mountains, neither one breaking the silence that already holds so much.
Catherine knows the brunette is exhausted, her tremors the worst they've been all week. But, Sara refuses to let her eyes shut, taking in the moment, her hold tightening on Catherine's shirt as best she can.
Feeling the movement, knowing the significance of it, Catherine leans down, placing a gentle kiss into Sara's hair that she washed for the brunette this morning.
"I love you," she breathes out, not knowing whether it was loud enough to be heard, but somehow instinctively knowing Sara's heard it anyway. "So much."
Sara's head nods where it's resting against Catherine's chest, the younger woman hesitant to use words ever since her speech has become affected, sounding slurred and strained no matter how hard Sara tries to annunciate.
But, for Catherine, she tries. She always tries.
"I love you, too. More than anything."
The words are indeed slurred, but the blonde knows exactly what they said. She always seems to know.
They both don't talk about anything else. After all, what is more important than what's already been said? They don't worry about the future, about Sara's increasing decline as the years have gone on. The questions regarding how much time they realistically have left. How they need to make plans, make decisions.
None of that needs to be discussed – not tonight.
Tonight they just want to hold one another, to lie in one another's arms and forget the world for a while. Forget the way their worlds have dramatically changed from the paths they'd always assumed would be available to them. Forget the way their joined paths will separate much sooner than either of them had ever wanted them to. Forget the way they're going to have to save the rest of their journeys together for a time and place other than this one.
Sara's grip tightens further, perhaps thinking of some of the things of which neither of them speaks.
Not wanting to waste a single cherished moment they have together, not knowing how many they may have left, she keeps her eyes open. But, this time, instead of focusing on the sunset, she gazes upon something much more beautiful. Something much more comforting.
She looks at the woman she loves, only wishing she had more time to spend with her. But, she smiles, knowing the life they did have together already held more happiness and fulfillment than most people ever achieve in a longer lifetime.
No, their time may be getting cut a bit shorter than they'd hoped, but in no way was it short on love.
Not in the least.
And, after all, Sara's pretty sure a love like theirs isn't limited by something as trivial as death. No, theirs will find a way to continue on even after this world. She isn't one to believe in things like heaven or afterlives, both seeming entirely too unscientific for her liking, but she somehow knows that this life isn't the end for them.
Somehow, she'll manage to find Catherine again, of this she's sure.
But, for right now, they're still together here, in this life, in this place, and she's going to cherish every moment of it.
THE END
AN: Thanks for reading.
