In the waiting room at the hospital, Nick stood as he spotted his friends dash in through the emergency room doors. It was still dark outside, the hour only just nudging midnight, and he was not surprised when they had arrived at the hospital so quickly – none of them had been too far away.

"She's fine," he said, heading them off, with placating hands outstretched. "She's okay."

They drew to an abrupt stop in front of him, Catherine's hand already outstretched as if she had been about to grab him and hurtle off desperately to find Sara, but it took a second for his words to penetrate their panicked minds.

"She's okay," he repeated.

"You said she'd been hit," Grissom accused, still half-panicked. His blue eyes searched Nick's.

"It's just a bruise – Sofia's just texted me. They're going to do a scan just to make sure, but she's fine. They just caught us off-guard that's all."

"That's all?" Catherine accused.

Her wide eyes were livid. Nick was almost grateful she had not been there.

"Why the hell did they attack you?" Warrick asked, puzzled. "Who were they?"

"I don't know, man," Nick said. He led them over to a small waiting area, a vacant group of chairs away from everyone else – and prying eyes. "Some kind of UFO nuts, they think we're covering up the existence of aliens, or something."

"Seriously?" Warrick asked.

Nick ignored him. Grissom was hovering nearby, looking reluctant to sit down.

"Can we see Sara?" he asked.

"They're taking her for a scan," Nick explained. "They were examining her when I left."

He sat down opposite Catherine, and let his eyes explain what he did not want to say aloud – that Sara had been asked to undress, and that it had been at that point that he had made himself scarce, thoroughly un-needed in the room. But he knew also what would concern Catherine, and predictably, she gave a small intuitive nod to herself.

"Is Sofia with her?" she demanded.

"Hasn't left her side," Nick reported.

"Good."

There was a small pause, in which Nick realised that Grissom still had not sat down, and Warrick looked up, eyeing him there.

"Sit down, Griss," he said.

Grissom did not seem to hear him, his eyes focused over his shoulder as he looked down a lonely corridor, toward where he knew from experience Sara must be.

"Gil," Catherine said, pointedly.

She nodded to the chair beside her.

And Grissom sat.

XXX

The wait was long. Evidently the hospital was being more careful than any of them could have predicted, but Nick understood why. Their case was high profile, no one could afford more mistakes. They would scan Sara's abdomen, check her concussion, and all that was required of the group at large was an enormous amount of patience.

Nick himself wasn't alarmed – he had been at the scene with Sara and Sofia and knew from all Sara's passionate argumentative behaviour that she was fine – or that she would be. The rest was a matter of procedure and double-checking. But as he sat there he saw that the others were in a different headspace. Grissom took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, staring vacantly at a distant spot on the floor, and Catherine sat with them for only a few minutes before she got up and started pacing, covering the floor in small loops before Warrick quietly insisted she sit down.

"It's gonna be okay," he said.

She sat, plopping back down into the chair, but her face twisted with frustration and regret.

"We should've been there," she said, looking to Nick. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "It wouldn't have made any difference."

"We shouldn't have left," Warrick agreed, sombre. "We should have been there with you."

Nick almost laughed; the idea was ridiculous.

"Come on," he reasoned. "We all agreed to move on, right? That you two would go back to Vegas, be with Lindsey, that that was the way forward. That we had to start getting used to spending time apart, to try to rebuild our lives. We all said that this was the first step."

"It doesn't matter," Catherine said, tired and dismissive. "It's not right. This doesn't feel right."

Nick had no idea what to say, and he watched as she stared sadly off into space for a moment, and found himself checking over his shoulder to see if there was even anything there.

There wasn't. But Grissom, however, seemed to be on the same morose page.

"It doesn't stop, does it?" he asked, astutely.

"No, it doesn't stop," Catherine said, quiet. "And it will never stop."

Her eyes bored into Grissom, who only nodded.

"Then let's change things up," Warrick advised. "Find a way to deal with things. One that does work."

"I can't even think about that right now," Catherine admitted, shaking her head.

"We don't have to deal with that right now," Nick agreed, cutting her off. "Let's just deal with one thing at a time, okay? And right now, let's just get Sara, go home, get some sleep, and we can deal with the rest in the morning." He paused, seeking agreement. "Okay?"

"Okay," Warrick agreed.

Neither Catherine nor Grissom said anything, but Nick took the lead nonetheless.

"I'm gonna go find Sofia and check how things are going, I'll be right back, okay?"

"Right."

XXX

Sitting on her bed in the emergency ward, Sara sighed as she lined up her clothes on the mattress beside her. She had been finally given the all-clear, after suffering through an ultrasound and brain CT scan which had thankfully been both relatively quick, and now, all she had to do was get dressed. She knew from the text messages that Nick and Sofia had been covertly sending each other that the others were outside, and worried about how they would receive the news of her ordeal, she hurried to finish with her clothes.

Outside the curtain, Sofia hovered, intermittently looking through a small gap in the fabric to check that she did not need help, and Sara hurried as she pulled on her jeans – which now thanks to her weight loss were looser than ever – and then her bra and shirt. She moved stiffly, her bruise sore, but was careful to pull down the shirt all the way, to give no hint to the others of how bad the bruise was. Something told her that Catherine would not take it well – nor the others.

When she pulled the curtain aside, Sofia stood there waiting, but so did Nick – he had evidently arrived while she had been getting dressed.

"Hey," he greeted, looking concerned. "You okay?"

He reached out to her and Sara clutched his arm in greeting.

"I'm fine. I've been given the all-clear. We're just waiting on the meds."

"Medication?" he asked.

"Just mild analgesia," Sara admitted, playing it down.

"They're bringing it up from the pharmacy," Sofia added. "As soon as it's here, we can leave."

"Good," he said. "Good, good …"

His eyes trailed away as an ER nurse passed, heading to one of the other curtained beds in the row. It was only a moment later once she was gone that he spoke.

"Listen. The others are here, but –"

"But what?" Sara interrupted.

He lowered his voice. "Catherine doesn't seem right, you know? She keeps saying she feels guilty, that they should've been there or something."

Sofia actually scoffed.

"She would've been tossed aside like a twig," she pointed out, frank.

"I know," Nick agreed. "Wouldn't have made a bit of difference. But she just doesn't seem right. I don't know what's going on. See what you make of it, okay?"

"Okay," Sara said.

She felt wary, and shared a look with Sofia as Nick departed to go fetch their friends. A moment later and they arrived, all four of them walking in, but Sara's mind went straight to Grissom. His hair looked ruffled, as though he had run his hands through it, but his eyes were gentle as they locked straight onto her. Without even a thought to the others, Sara walked forward to meet him, and he wrapped her in his arms. She kissed his cheek and closed her eyes over his shoulder, revelling in the feel and warmth of his body, and she kept her eyes closed as he gently rocked her from side to side, no words needed.

When she eventually pulled away, he kept his hand on her upper arm, and the others hovered patiently, giving them the moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she assured, touching his chest again. "I'm all right."

"You're not dizzy?"

"I'm good."

"She's all right," Sofia assured.

Grissom gave her a brief glance before his eyes fell back on Sara. She saw them dip to her waist, to where he knew she must have been hurt.

"I'll show you later," she promised, aware of what he was thinking.

"Okay," he said.

Then, unable to resist, she added flirtatiously, "I'll let you kiss it better."

She knew, as only Sofia did, that the bruise was actually only just beneath her left breast. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sofia smile, and raise an amused eyebrow at the comment, but it was Nick who jumped in, in what Sara recognised was an immediate attempt to lighten the mood.

"You can't even wait until we're out of earshot, can you?" he teased.

"Why should I?" Sara joked.

She grinned to herself, and then turned her attention to the others. She briefly hugged Warrick, accepting his kind words of relief that she was all right, but then turned to Catherine. She saw immediately that Catherine looked tired; her skin was pale, her hair tied back in a lazy ponytail, but her eyes locked onto Sara with trademark concern – and fear.

"I'm okay," Sara assured, quickly.

She reached for her, and Catherine folded into her arms. Sara held her, and realised as she did that Catherine was staying there longer than normal. That was worrying.

"Are you okay?" she asked, in her ear.

Catherine pulled back, swiping a stray piece of hair away from her face.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said.

"You don't look okay," Grissom pointed out, delicately.

"I'm just tired," she said. "It's been a long day."

Sara nodded, acknowledging this. It had been a long day, and the last part of it had been nothing to speak about. But even so, she would not have expected Catherine to appear so down. Nick had told them on the phone that she was fine – and she was. Her mind raced, piecing together the puzzle quickly, and it was on her mind to ask how Catherine's night had been – the first one back at her own place – when she was promptly interrupted by a pair of loud footsteps, and Dianne and Jim Brass rounded the corner.

"Hey," Brass greeted. "We –"

But he broke off. Catherine had turned away, self-conscious, and now faced the wall. She had a hand over her eyes, needing privacy, and out of the corner of her eye Sara saw a tear slip. It was a tear of pure frustration and sheer exhaustion, Sara knew, but she saw Brass' eyes immediately sweep the group, sensing he had intruded.

"Are we interrupting?" he surmised.

The moment hovered awkwardly in the air, as each of them caught the others' eyes, but none of them broke it. The truth was 'yes', but Sara did not want to be rude.

"What's happened?" Dianne asked.

She immediately surged into the fold. Her worried eyes swept over Sara, and she clutched her arm.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sara said, honestly.

"She's being discharged," Sofia supplied.

Dianne glanced back to her daughter, who was standing near the foot of the bed. She looked confused for a moment, but after a quick sweep of the scene, quickly regained control.

"You two are okay?" she asked, looking to Sofia and Nick.

"We're good," Nick answered.

Sofia nodded that she was okay.

Dianne then looked over the others, her gaze quickly passing over the men, before it settled on Catherine. Catherine swiped discretely at a tear, and Sara could not stand it any longer. Not caring that everyone was watching, or if she made a scene, Sara stepped forward, and gently urged Catherine into her arms.

"Come here …" she said.

Catherine went without a fight. She leaned against Sara's shoulder, needing the moment, and Sara held her strong and tight. She rubbed her back, not pressuring her to talk, and simply rocked her and whispered in her ear.

"Shh," she said. "It's okay. We're here …"

Over Catherine's shoulder, Sara saw all her friends looking on, helpless, and Brass' face disintegrated in pity. Seeing a gaggle of nurses passing, toward one of the other beds, Sara motioned quickly for someone to pull their own curtain further around, knowing that Catherine did not need the whole of Vegas looking in. Brass volunteered to do the job, and Dianne disappeared for a moment, before returning from the nurse's station with a blanket and a box of tissues.

"Sit down," she urged.

She joined Sara, and quickly urged Catherine down into the single vacant armchair beside the bed. It had been put there for relatives, when someone was severely injured, and they steered Catherine into it, Dianne quickly draping the blanket around her body. Catherine had given no sign that she was cold, but she had not dressed for the conditions of a cold desert night, either. She was still so thin.

"What happened?" Dianne asked, crouching in front of her. Her eyes penetrated Catherine, but they were more those of a mother than a detective.

Catherine kept her head in one hand, quiet. Sara grasped and rubbed her shoulder.

"It's okay," she said.

"I think it's just the strain," Warrick offered, watching with a heartfelt look nearby. "It's been a weird evening."

"It certainly has," Catherine muttered, into her hand.

"Your first night back," Dianne concluded, as if everything suddenly made sense.

She gave a deep sigh.

Sara knew what she meant, and was fast putting the pieces together just as Dianne was. It had indeed been Catherine's first night back in Vegas, and Sara, even before her injury, had been anxious about how they were faring. But Catherine had insisted she was ready. Nevertheless, Sara understood the pressure. Catherine had not returned at all because she had wanted to, but because she felt she should, that she had to, because of Lindsey. The tug of war that existed in Catherine's head, between her desire to be with the group and responsibility to be with her daughter was tearing her apart.

"Your first night back was bound to feel overwhelming," Grissom offered, kindly.

"It's not that," Catherine said, and at last her hand fell from her face. Her face itself was not tear-stained, but she looked exhausted.

"Then what is it?" Sofia asked, concerned.

"I don't know."

She shook her head, at a loss, and suddenly Sara knew: what they were dealing with was a deep-set fatigue, an emotional exhaustion.

There was too much pressure.

There only remained the question of what to do about it.

"Come home with us," Sara invited, suddenly. "We'll help, we'll deal with everything."

Catherine looked at her, and her eyes shone with such touched gratitude that Sara knew she was almost tempted – almost.

"I agree," Dianne said, firmly. "I said all along this was too soon. Your mother thought so too."

Catherine said nothing, clearly torn.

Before she could argue Dianne stood, and promptly took control. She passed a bunch of tissues into Catherine's hand, urged her to dry her eyes, and then addressed the group.

"All right, here's what's going to happen. Sara, you, Nick and Sofia need to give your statements to Jim. We need them on the record, while they're still fresh on your minds. Grissom, you and Warrick take Catherine for some air, get a hot drink or something. I don't think all these prying eyes around here are going to help. When that's done, Sara, we'll finish your discharge paperwork and go home. We can swing by your house, Catherine, and pick up some clothes. Come stay the night."

Catherine said nothing, though Sara saw a million emotions pass through her troubled eyes. Humiliation and regret were two of them.

"It's okay," Sofia said, kindly.

"We'll stay the night, too," Nick said, indicating himself and Sofia. "If that's okay."

"Always," Sara said.

As far as she was concerned, they did not need an invite. They already had a key.

"Come on," Sara urged.

She tugged on Catherine's hand, helped her up, and quickly kissed her.

"We'll be quick, okay?"

She nudged her on the back, passing her over to Grissom. She hoped they could get their statements done in record time.

Been a while, crazy times. Hope people are still reading. If you enjoyed this, please let me know. :)