A/N: These two are winding down their tale…posting on the fly so all mistakes are mine…thanks for the terrific reviews and reader interest…hope this pleases... –Kathy
------------------
Catherine breezed through the hospital doorways with anxious steps.
The DA's office chartered a private plane which they insisted she use to get back to Vegas once the full situation was revealed to her.
Stopping at the information desk, her demeanor threatened bodily harm to the receptionist as she thrust her ID forward demanding to know the room location of her colleague.
Not trusting her patience with the elevators, Catherine made short work of the stairway to the third floor before flinging open the heavy fire door and making an entrance worthy of the Queen herself.
Nearly colliding with an orderly wheeling a cart of fresh linen to the supply closet, her steely gaze made the college student stand at attention; the motherly instinct kicked in as she stopped to pat his shoulder and mutter a brief apology for startling him.
Her eyes landed on his only briefly as her peripheral vision spotting the numbering markers for the floor's patient rooms.
Without waiting for a response from the young man, she whirled in her intended direction with boot heels clacking softly in determined stride.
She paused just outside the partially opened door, her heart sinking at the sight before her.
In the six hours since their phone conference was interrupted by Brass' quick departure, all kinds of images had worried her.
Catherine could not have conjured up this pathetic scene before her.
He lay still, IV drips pouring fluids and unknown medications into his system.
His head was wrapped in white gauze bandages covering the back half of his head, both ears shielded from sight.
His eyes were closed but not clamped tight, suggesting a restful – probably drug-induced – sleep.
Beside him sat his old friend Jim Brass, eyes solemn as his chair twisted slightly to allow a clear view of the doorway.
Yet his face was grim as his body language screamed worry at the figure lying under the crisp cotton sheets.
The CSI continued to survey the scene with diligence, and her immediate impressions weren't favorable.
She noticed Jim's eyes were looking as if unseeing – their focus acutely aimed at another time and place.
Moving slightly into the room, her shadow brought a measured response from the seasoned detective, and it did not escape her notice that his hand flew from his lap to immediately rest on his service revolver.
Placing her hands up in mock surrender, Catherine smiled and said, "I come in peace."
Chuckling self-consciously, Brass stood and moved to the foot of Grissom's bed.
He looked a moment into Catherine's weary smile, and caught her off-guard as he pulled her into a tight embrace.
After a quick moment of contact, Jim pulled away and Catherine could see the comforted difference in his stance.
Looking towards Gil unmoving in this dimly lit room, the pair stood in the bright light of the hallway.
Their presence caused the patient to rise to an almost full level of consciousness.
The glare made it easy for an awakening Grissom to easily see them the short distance from his hospital bed without the benefit of his reading glasses.
He felt odd.
His arms felt like lead, yet his head buzzed with a hum so much more irritating than the tinnitus that plagued him for weeks after the surgery.
His head felt warm, like it did in the aftermath of –
Gil's breath hitched.
My head…wrapped in gauze…
He strained a bit to the side to feel the pressure of the cotton support over his left ear preventing him from fully turning his head in that direction.
I. Can't. Hear.
His heart beat increased, yet the sedatives were keeping him from moving.
His shock at his situation prevented him from making a sound.
His eyes opened more fully, desperate to get more information.
That's when he first noticed Jim's lips moving: …Sara…
Gil wished Brass would stand still and not be so animated in his speech; it was hard enough concentrating on moving lips, but when the speaker's head turned often –
Catherine was shaking her head, wiping her hands across her face which hid her lips from his sight.
Jim shrugged, sighed, and turned away from him as he spoke while Catherine just kept shaking her head.
Brass turned slightly towards Catherine now as Gil watched his shoulders rise on the deep inhale.
More turning movements as Gil's frustration mounted his eyes narrowed.
He needed to know what was happening. Finally Jim turned in midsentence, just in time for Gil to read:
…Al's with her…
Gil found himself unable to take in a breath.
Brass' lips turned towards him again in midsentence.
…wouldn't let anyone else touch her…
His eyes seized closed.
Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, ohgod…..please….no…
NO!
"Nooo!"
Both figures moved towards the bed at the first strains of his moans.
"Griss-, …dammit!" growled Jim as he realized his message would not be understood at this time unless Gil opened his eyes.
His frustration caused Catherine to turn to him in confusion as he clenched his friend's shoulders in a vain attempt to get him to open his eyes.
"What's wrong? Is he in pain?" she asked worriedly.
Brass was already ringing for the nurse, the tone of his message was sharp and authorative.
Assured that the doctor had been called, Jim's focus returned to his friend as his voice changed into a softer plea.
"C'mon, man…just open your eyes…" he muttered.
The sedatives were playing havoc with Gil's reality, and he was unsure of just what he could believe as reality at this point.
Grissom's eyes were shut in an unconsciously protective mode.
His mind couldn't deal with the snippet of information seeing their conversation had implanted in his confused mind.
As they continued and failed to get Gil's attention, both friends were relieved to see Dr. Roth entering the room in a swift, yet controlled, pace.
Having been advised of the events that led to his hospitalization, the doctor smiled caringly at the two figures that flanked Gil's bedside.
"Could I ask you to step out for a moment? Shouldn't be too long," she spoke as she gestured to the hallway, her hand already claiming Gil's wrist as she bore down on his pulse point.
Brass was already moving when he bumped into Catherine's motionless body.
"I promise I will call you in as soon as I examine him…just a few moments," Dr. Roth continued, glad that her longtime patient had such concerned support.
Reluctantly, the duo stepped out of the shadowy room, blinking into the glare of the hallway.
A familiar voice drifted over them from elevator near the hallway's intersections.
"Is everything alright?" Al Robbins asked, moving as swiftly as possible towards Gil's room.
"Not sure," Brass said, his eyes trained on the closed door of the patient room.
"Who's in there with him?" the coroner asked again, nodding with satisfaction upon their answer.
"Karen is the best there is…she'll help him as much as she can," Al added, anxious to speak with her upon the conclusion of her examination.
Inside the room, Karen Roth frowned at the pace of Gil's racing heartbeat as she released his hand with a soft pat.
Pushing her hand into her large inner pocket, she pulled out a premeasured syringe filled with Valium and added it to Gil's IV before turning back towards him.
Even in his discomfort, Grissom recognized the feel of the practicioner's hand.
She had been with many patients whose hearing was diminished and had steeled herself to support but not coddle them into facing their current reality.
Yet, even her practiced eye blinked harshly at the pain in her patient's eyes as his lids opened to rest on hers.
Smiling and maintaining contact, Dr. Roth pulled her hands away to a comfortable distance before she began signing to Grissom.
//How are you feeling now?//
How was he feeling?
If he was to believe what Brass was saying, he had just lost his reason for living.
How was he feeling?
He wished his strength to return so he could trash this room in an uncharacteristic release of his deep-seated anger.
Sara.
His eyes filled with unshed tears, making the doctor's signs a muddle of unrecognizable attempts to soothe him.
//Gil…the shooting happened too close to the repairs…the concussive effect of the bullet that grazed you…dislodged some minute bone fragments…//
Dr. Roth always felt the best approach was the direct approach, yet she was not met with the expected bravado from this patient.
His continued silence unnerved her.
Taking her left hand to hold his for comfort, she continued signing with her right hand.
//Both ears seem affected, although the left ear – the one with the most extensive surgical repair – seems have suffered the worst of it.//
When no response was coming, Karen Roth decided that her patient needed time to cope with this new information.
Smiling, she added,
//I've given you something to help you relax…get some sleep…try to stay calm…rest is the best thing for you right now…//
Grissom closed his eyes against the painful thoughts.
Sara…seeing Sara once more…that would be the best thing for me right now…ohgod…she can't be dead...she can't be gone…I can't do this without her…
The doctor squeezed his hand, wanting to reassure him that she would return to check on him later, but Grissom stubbornly refused to open his eyes.
The pain of dealing with his perceived reality threatened to break him.
With a final squeeze, she lifted his hand and flattened it open, then pressed her fingers onto his palm into the sign for "later", and left the room.
Sighing as she saw the distraught faces of Grissom's support network, Dr. Roth steeled herself to answer their questions.
Dr. Robbins stepped up to introduced himself, yet Karen shook hands warmly to assure him no introductions were necessary as Gil had mentioned his achievements many times when discussing work.
In fact, Karen added, she had suggested that Gil talk with the coroner for a second opinion on the initial surgery.
The two medical practitioners talked shop for a moment, and Catherine frowned at the intensity of Al's demeanor.
Upon assuring them she would check back on their patient later, she bid them farewell and moved towards the elevator, disappearing inside just as a familiar figure passed her in stepping tentatively out of the metal doors.
Brass was the first to see her, and moved towards her with such speed that the other two turned in surprise.
Catherine's eyebrows raised questioningly, and Al began to scowl before moving forward.
"WHAT are you doing down here?" he admonished as he took hold of the rather shaky form.
"How is he?" she asked, thanking the two men as they gently led her jeans-clad form to the chair outside Grissom's room.
"Fine, fine…now what are you doing out of bed?" Robbins insisted, but Sara would not be deterred.
"I listened to them paging Dr. Roth…I heard the room number…" she spoke quietly, her own head bandaged to completely cover the left side of her head.
"She just left him," Brass began but was interrupted as Catherine added, "Al was just going to fill us in on what the prognosis was."
Sara smiled her thanks, knowing that the men would just try to spare her any worry.
Al shot Catherine a wicked glance, but she held his evil look and raised him a glare.
Sighing, he knelt down next to Sara to prevent her from having to crane her injured neck upwards.
"Gil has suffered a temporary loss of hearing in both ears," he said reaching out for Sara's hand as her eyes widened anxiously.
"Is it…will he…" the brunette faltered as the enormity of the situation engulfed her.
Looking at Jim before answering, the captain moved closer and pressed a reassuring hand onto Sara's shoulders as Al continued.
"It may be some time until we know for certain. Dr. Roth is the best, and she's-"
"…doing all she can…"Sara said softly as a tear trickled down her cheek.
"Yes…that's why it's important that you, young lady," Robbins spoke as he stood, "take my advice and get back into your room to rest. Gil has to focus on healing now…not on worrying about you."
Hoping to lighten the moment, Catherine spoke, "Heard you gave those ER doctors a headache or two, Sara…I see you haven't lost your touch!"
Both men smiled, but Sara looked unrepentant.
"I – I…" she breathed deeply, "I didn't ...I just didn't want anyone else to …touch-" she stopped, looking at Catherine's sympathetic face.
"Well, after all you've been through, girl, I'd say it's about time you got to do things your way," the older CSI smiled comfortingly.
"And I am delighted to have a patient who actually can request my services by name," Al continued, and they all smiled at the coroner's insider joke.
A short pause. Then,
"Can I see him?"
The request was so heartfelt, Jim thought he'd move mountains to make the wish come true.
Al was a bit sterner.
"You promise to see him for just a few minutes, then you'll rest, Sara? I'm not joking about your body's need for recuperative sleep."
Sara shook her head softly, her eyes taking on a far-off glaze.
"I don't sleep. I close my eyes, and I can still see them…still feel them-" she quivered as her emotions were rising.
Brass stepped in and placed an arm around her shoulders to help her stand.
"Don't think about that, doll. It's over. They can't hurt you again."
Yet these seasoned professionals were well aware of the power of memory from their own personal experiences of job-related horrors.
Sara looked into Jim's eyes, and he shook internally at how small and broken she seemed.
He was glad the ER doctor had remembered Sara from her earlier admittance, and had volunteered to call the lab and request Dr. Robbins' presence if that would soothe his patient's near-panic at being brought in by flustered EMTs who viewed Sara as a combative rescue victim.
Brass lost that thought as he felt Sara moving forward unsteadily from his grasp.
Turning to move with her, he glanced solemnly at Doc before moving to push open the door.
The shadowed room was comforting to her, yet she wondered if it really was the shadows or the fact that she could sense her love so close by.
Jim moved the chair over closer to the head of the bed and helped situate Sara comfortably.
Except for the IV protruding from his hand, Gil now looked to be resting peacefully.
Sara took in ever facial crease, every strand of hair, every rise and fall of his chest.
He was here.
He was safe.
And she loved him.
Tears fell unbidden at the sight of this man who suffered so at her behalf.
Nick had told her as he raised her into his arms and brought her out to Grissom's couch that Gil had found her.
Somewhere in her drug-induced stupor she reached out for him, but panicked when she realized Gil wasn't with them.
The ride to the hospital was an unwelcomed collage of sights and sounds that were disparate and frightening as the illegal drugs Terri had given her were wearing off, leaving Sara unsure of what was real and what was imagined.
However now, as Sara reached out to Gil's hand, she smiled at the slight reaction she spotted when she pulled his hand into both of hers.
After a moment of silence, she smiled again as his head turned lazily in her direction although his eyes were still shrouded in sleep.
Knowing he was unable to hear her, Sara flattened his hand and maneuvered her middle finger downwards before pressing the signed gesture firmly into his palm.
Remembering the little sign language she had picked up from her secret attempt to learn some conversational signing in response to her inadvertently finding out about Grissom's surgery a while back, Sara now let her fingers say what her heart was screaming.
// I love you.//
Her gaze took in the rightness of her hand in his as she held her fingers in place while soothing his knuckles with her other hand in a reassuring gesture.
Suddenly, Sara was surprised to find Gil increasing the pressure on her slender fingers.
Looking up in awe, her eyes were drawn in to the most beautiful set of baby blues this side of heaven.
His eyelids were only partially opened, but they were certainly what Sara needed to see at this moment.
She wanted to stroke his face, but his grip remained firm.
"Sara," he whispered on a breath, causing her to smile.
She tried to move, yet he held her prisoner in his grasp.
"Sara," his breath hitched, and she was dumbfounded to find his eyes brimming with emotion.
She moved her head slightly, taking in the bandages and the sight of him overwhelmed with the sight of her.
"I'm here," she spoke clearly into his eyes, noticing the tears spilling forth.
"Don't leave me," he whispered loudly, unaware of the sound of his own voice.
Sara sent him one of the special smiles reserved just for him, wincing as temporary stitching in her cheek began to throb at the motion.
Her distress brought Gil out of his reverie, and his hand clenched hers tighter while the other hand moved towards her bandages.
His eyes snapped to hers just as he made contact with the gauze.
She thought he looked like he was trying to rouse himself from a dream.
Patiently, she sat and allowed his digits to explore her eye, hair, ear, cheek, mouth – whatever was not hidden behind the protective gauze.
Gil's eyes widened as if he was truly seeing her for the first time.
"Sara!"
He tried to sit up, only to be forced down by a wave of vertigo.
"Gil! Gil!" Sara spoke urgently before remembering he couldn't hear her calling.
Though he hadn't released her hand, it was obvious he was in some sort of emotional and physical distress.
Looking around the darkened room, Sara thought about calling the nurse, or maybe Doc.
Tearing her eyes back to his pained expression, she was becoming confused herself as she started to feel overwhelmed with fatigue.
What could she do to help him in this situation, when she needed to take care of herself?
While she was beginning to hurt due to the fact that she had refused the pain killers that Doc Robbins had wanted to prescribe for her, Sara reached a decision.
Standing slowly, Sara released herself delicately from Gil's grasp.
His eyes flew open anxiously, worried that this was just a dream and that this mirage would disappear.
Making a shooing motion with her hands, Gil obeyed and slid sideways slowly to allow enough room for Sara's slight frame to lay beside him.
Wordlessly, she sat and twisted her good side onto the bed, pulling up her feet to lay prone next to him.
Gil now understood her plan and raised his free arm feebly to nestle her close to his chest.
"I love you, Sara," he spoke in a tinny-sounding voice, unable to do more than close his arm over her to encase her in his loving embrace.
Sara could not bring her eyes to remain open, so she simply snuggled carefully against him – causing them both to sigh in unison.
In the hallway, Al was pacing.
"She's been in there about ten minutes. Think she'd settle for that visit as enough for now, if I promise to bring her back later?"
Brass and Catherine just looked at him in response.
"She needs her rest," Doc said worriedly as he squared his shoulders and prepared to enter the room and do battle.
The door swung open, and the scene before him caused him to stop short.
Snuggled into each other on the small hospital bed, both patients leaned into the other as they both inhaled then exhaled softly.
Smiling broadly, Doc moved silently so as not to disturb Sara, reaching the bed only to grab the extra blanket from the windowsill.
He covered her in the lightest motion, but she never stirred.
Al Robbins' grin deepened at the soft smile that graced Sara's weary lips.
Perhaps this story would have a happy ending after all.
