Having spoken to Doc, Catherine had hoped that she would feel better; that she could form a plan of action about how she was going to deal with all of this and then she would perhaps feel more in control of the situation.
In reality, all she felt was more stressed. Doc hadn't held back – he had told her exactly what she had wanted to know, all of the side effects and symptoms that Sara was going to go through. All of them.
It was clear now that Sara's plan of keeping this quiet was not going to last very long.
So, when she set off to Sara's apartment the following morning, it was with a heavy heart. She knew that her young colleague was not going to like what she had to say.
As she walked down the narrow hallway, taking a deep breath in preparation for the impending argument, she was startled to find herself being met halfway.
"Hey Maverick," she crouched down to greet the little dog. "How did you get out, buddy?"
Maverick wagged his little tail excitedly, lapping up the attention.
"Well I'm glad you're pleased to see me," she commented, scratching his ears. "Because I don't think your owner's going to like me much after this."
Scooping him up into her arms, she continued towards Sara's flat, a feeling of dread starting to settle itself in the pit of her stomach. Sara was not the kind of pet owner who would let her animal run loose in the hall.
Sure enough, when she reached the apartment door, she found it stood open, Sara's bag and keys discarded on the floor.
"Sara?" She called, stepping over the brunette's belongings and casting a cursory glance around the room.
Her only response was the sound of heaving from the bathroom. Closing the door and setting Maverick down on his little feet, she crept closer to the room and peered inside.
Sara was on her knees in front of the toilet, violently throwing up whatever was left in her stomach, which couldn't have been much.
"Oh Sara." Cath knelt beside her, gathering her dark hair up and tying it back. Being the mother of a pre-teen daughter, she almost always had a hair band in at least one of her pockets.
It felt like an age before Sara eventually stopped throwing up long enough to sit back on her haunches, struggling to catch her breath.
"Here, it's okay." Catherine presented her with a glass of water, placing one firm hand on her back to support her. "Small sips, don't inhale it."
"Why are you here?" Sara managed to ask weakly, shuffling until she was sat against the wall, since she didn't quite trust her legs to support her just yet.
"I came to talk to you." Cath explained, brushing her sweat-soaked bangs aside and stroking her flushed cheek lightly with the back of her hand. "But that can wait. I'll make you something to eat."
"No." Sara groaned, burying her face in her hands. "No food."
Ignoring the protestation, Catherine stood up and moved into the kitchen area to find something dry that Sara could eat.
A moment later, Sara emerged, stumbling into the doorframe on her way. She stooped down, collecting the things she had dropped in the threshold and abandoning them haphazardly on a nearby table. Clearly she had only just made it inside in time before her stomach revolted on her.
Catherine shook her head sadly as she watched her friend's stunted movements, feeling utterly helpless to do anything about the obvious pain and discomfort she was in.
"You can't carry on like this for much longer." She noted softly, presenting Sara with a plate of toast. The girl had sunk heavily onto the couch and barely cracked an eye open, before pushing the offending item away.
"Today's a bad day." She conceded, nonplussed. "I'll be okay tomorrow."
Maverick bounded up onto the couch and rested his head on Sara's leg, staring up at his owner with languid brown eyes.
"What if you're not?" Cath pressed, perching on the coffee table. "What if you're worse tomorrow?"
"They said that I'll always feel bad for a couple of days right after the treatment." Sara explained, slowly sitting forward. "It'll settle down again. I promise."
Despite her weakness, there was a certain earnestness to her declaration that Catherine found hard to ignore. It was almost like she knew what Catherine had come to say and was trying to get her argument in first.
Cath sighed sadly, staring down at the plate in her hand.
"Eat something." She insisted, placing it on Sara's lap. "Then we'll talk."
x X x
"It's going to get worse." Nancy shook her head. "You know that, right?"
"Of course." Catherine mumbled, resting her chin on her hands morosely. "But what do you want from me? You said it yourself, she's an adult. I can't make her tell the rest of the team, no matter how much I want them to know."
"So, what's your plan?" The nurse enquired, topping up the three coffee mugs. "Continue letting yourself into her apartment and force-feeding her until she admits defeat?"
"If I have to, yes."
"That's not going to do either of you any good, Cath. Look at you – you're shattered already, and she's only just started her treatment." Nancy pointed out. "And if you keep badgering her about this, you'll just stress her out, which is the last thing she needs right now. You need to find a better way of supporting her, for both of you."
"Your sister's right." Lily waded in, causing Catherine to roll her eyes. "Not to mention, what are you going to do when Grissom starts to question how tired you are?"
Cath pursed her lips, electing not to mention that Grissom had already started to question it.
"I don't know, alright." She whined. "I just know that I can't push her into doing something she doesn't want to, but I can't leave her to look after herself either."
"If you wear yourself out, you're not going to be much use to her." Nancy offer unhelpfully. "Just remember that."
"Duly noted." Cath mumbled, folding her arms on the table and letting her head fall onto them. She felt her mother's hand stroking her hair softly, an affectionate gesture that she herself often did with Lindsey, when the child would let her.
"What about her family?" Lily asked. "Can't they provide some support for her?"
She sat up again, dragging her coffee cup closer and clutching it protectively with both hands.
"No. She doesn't really have any family to speak of."
"Of course she has family." Lily laughed the comment off dismissively. "She must have parents out there somewhere."
"Her father's dead." Catherine answered bluntly. "As for her mother ... I'm not sure what the story is there. She said that they don't speak anymore, but she didn't explain why."
"And you didn't ask?" Nancy raised her eyebrows playfully. "That's not like you."
"It wasn't exactly the right time." Cath scowled at her. "But I can't lie, it did peak my interest."
"Well, what's she said about her family before?" Lily asked, her own curiosity now fired up as well. "You've worked together for years, she must have mentioned them at least once?"
Catherine cocked her head to the side, considering this carefully.
The team, as a whole, were fairly private about their families; but they still discussed it from time to time. She knew that Grissom's father died when he was nine and he was raised by his deaf mother. She knew that Nick came from a big family with lots of siblings; that his parents were both involved in legal professions. She knew that Warrick was raised by his grandmother. She knew more about Greg's Norwegian grandfather than she knew about her own.
But she knew absolutely nothing about Sara's upbringing. Not one thing.