Catherine bounded up the stairs with a surprising amount of energy, a grocery bag in each hand. It had been a long shift, made harder for her by the fact that Sara was off work that night. But despite that, she had been in a remarkably good mood.
It was a few days since Sara had agreed to her proposition and since then the team had been so swamped with work that they had been unable to talk properly without one of the boys hanging around.
But with her case closed and Lindsey at school, Catherine had some time on her hands now and she knew exactly where she wanted to spend it.
Arriving at Sara's front door, she placed one bag on the ground and knocked once, then again, louder. Receiving no answer, she tested the door handle and was somewhat startled to find it unlocked.
Inching it open, she peeped around the edge into the apartment.
"Sara?" She called out. "Sar, its Catherine."
Maverick immediately materialised at her feet, yapping excitedly.
"Hey buddy." She bent down to pick up her bag and shuffled into the apartment, cautious not to step on the hyperactive pooch.
Placing the groceries on the counter, she finally spotted her colleague. Sara was curled up fast asleep on the couch, one arm tucked beneath her head and the other hanging limply off the edge. Her breathing was steady and even and she looked reasonably at peace.
"Oh." Cath smiled at the sight, shaking her head. Maverick was hovering between them, turning his head rhythmically to look between the two women. He whimpered softly at Catherine, staring up at her with sad brown eyes.
She crouched down to pet him, earning her a small lick of affection.
"I know; I'm worried too." She commiserated. "But she's going to be okay, I promise."
Satisfied with the attention he had received from the newcomer, he hopped back up onto the couch and draped himself across the side of Sara's stomach. The brunette frowned at the movement, but didn't stir.
Catherine closed the front door, ensuring to lock it with the keys that were hanging out of it and turned back to the apartment with her hands on her hips.
Sara was still fully dressed, evidently having crashed out as soon as she made it home. Her car keys were sitting beside her bag on the counter and her shoes were peeking out from beneath the couch where she had kicked them off.
Happy to let her sleep, Catherine set about unloading the food she had bought. Knowing Sara as she did, she had guessed that the young woman probably wouldn't be eating properly and a look inside her fridge confirmed just that. She had nothing fresh at all and even her cupboards were pretty bare.
In fact, the only thing she appeared well-stocked in was dog food.
Casting a look at Maverick, she shook her head in disapproval.
"She's never going to get better if she doesn't eat." She pointed out. His only response was a brief flick of his tail.
With that job done and Sara still asleep, she decided that the brunette probably wouldn't begrudge her a cup of coffee and helped herself. Clasping it in both hands, she ambled curiously around the little apartment. Last time she had been here, she hadn't had the opportunity to properly scrutinise the place.
It was nice, homely, although clearly lacking in items of sentimentality. There were no family photos, no jewellery box full of heirlooms. Plenty of books and music, though; some fancy artwork on the walls. A sketchpad, she noted with intrigue.
The bed was still unmade.
After finishing her drink, she started to make it up, before opting to put fresh sheets on altogether. Perhaps that way Sara might be enticed into actually sleeping in the damn thing.
Due to the small size of the home, it didn't take her long to locate the clean bedding in a small ottoman at the base of the bed. Like the rest of the apartment, Sara's sheets were mostly red, many with Chinese-style designs on them. Evidently, she had a thing for the orient.
Even after putting on a load of laundry and washing the dishes, Sara continued to sleep, so Catherine hunted through her cupboards until she found her bleach products.
The bathroom was only small and didn't take much cleaning. She only had a shower, no bathtub. Catherine shook her head at this phenomenon. If she ever managed to convince Sara to move, she would insist the girl bought somewhere with a bath.
Although it was a rarity these days, Cath liked nothing more than having an hour of peace to submerge herself in bubbles with a glass of wine and a good book. And Sara didn't have a pre-teen cluttering up her time – she could do that whenever she wanted, if only she had a tub!
And who didn't love a good bubble bath from time to time?
Pouring herself another drink, she wandered over and perched on the edge of the coffee table, studying Sara's features. She looked very pale, but otherwise fairly content. Maverick had settled down to sleep on top of his owner, but lifted his head at Cath's presence, a little pink tongue instantly popping out.
"Well, at least she's resting." She said to the dog. "That's a good start."
He emitted an unhappy noise, resting his head back on Sara's shoulder and staring intently at her face. Catherine stroked him gently, wondering whether he could sense that something was wrong with his human companion.
She wasn't the animal expert that Sara was, but she did know that dogs were perceptive little creatures, so it would stand to reason that Maverick would have realised she was unwell.
Leaving the two to their shared nap, she stood back up and ambled towards the balcony. It was early afternoon and the sun was above them somewhere now, affording her an unhindered view of the city.
To her right stood a bookcase and a small desk, where Sara had a laptop and some folders which appeared to contain journal articles and similar work-related paraphernalia.
Sinking into the seat, she began to study the contents of the shelves. More books and a dozen or so CDs and CD player. A few ornaments. Still no photos.
Sitting on the desk, stacked into a haphazard pile, were several letters from Desert Palms Hospital; the telltale logo of the oncology unit causing an increasingly familiar shot of fear to ricochet through Catherine.
Shaking the feeling off, she was about to stand up when something else caught her eye – a note, sitting inoffensively atop the closed computer, written in Sara's handwriting.
It was a list of medications, times and instructions. Nancy's warning flashed back to her mind – the one thing many patients struggle with is the taking of meds.
Scanning down the list, Cath hurriedly checked her watch...
x X x
Sara started, uncertain of what had awoken her. Taking a moment to let her blurry vision clear, she blinked a few times, until finally she found herself staring at a glass of water and a small red pill.
"Well, it's about time." Catherine greeted sarcastically from her spot perched on the table. "I was getting ready to turn the hose on you."
Sara stared hard at her for a minute.
"What are you doing here?" She managed to ask at last, shuffling stiffly into an upright position.
"Take this." Catherine said in response, placing the tablet in her hand and holding out the water to her. "It's overdue."
Sara rolled her eyes, but took it non-the-less. She didn't know how Catherine had found her meds, or how she knew which one she needed right now, but at this particular moment in time that was the least of her worries.
She was more concerned with the fact that Catherine was here at all.
The older woman had by now stood up and moved back into the kitchenette, leaving Sara to gather her bearings.
Tentatively rising to her feet, Sara assessed the apartment cautiously.
"Did ... did you clean up in here?" She demanded, noting the different bed sheets and the distinct smell of lemon cleaning products.
"Yes, I did." Catherine agreed lightly. "What would you like for lunch? I brought soup, if your stomach's still unsettled?"
"Wait, hold on..." Sara held up her hands, stumbling her way towards the breakfast bar. "How did you even get in here?"
"Your door was unlocked." Cath quirked an eyebrow at her. "FYI, you should know better than that, Miss Sidle."
Sara groaned, realising now what had happened. She shook her head.
"I was going back out." She explained, pointing towards Maverick. "I was supposed to be taking him for a walk; I must have fallen asleep."
Maverick yapped at her feet, confirming that she had indeed forgotten to walk him.
Catherine smiled at the mild outrage from the little pup and the affectionate way Sara apologised to him. As she watched the brunette scoop him into her arms, there was a flicker of recognition in the back of Cath's mind and she suddenly straightened up, gesturing to the terrier.
"Hey, that's not ..." she frowned, trying desperately to recall the scene to mind.
She remembered them being on the train tracks, but it was dark and she couldn't quite picture the dog. But the name ... the name had seemed familiar straight away. Sara's lips turned up into a smile, confirming her suspicions.
"The road rage case, the woman who's car was hit by the train. You kept her dog?"
"I re-homed him." Sara clarified, perching on a barstool and settling him on her lap. "After we closed the case, I contacted Animal Control to see if anyone had claimed him; they said that the victim had no close family who wanted him so he was going to be put up for adoption or put down."
"Sara." Cath rolled her eyes with amusement at the outwardly-stoic CSI's soft nature. Of course she had checked up on the dog, why should Catherine have expected anything less?
"You never explained why you're here." Sara pointed out, ignoring her mockery and offering up a questioning gaze from beneath her lashes. Cath smiled brightly, unfazed by the change of subject.
"Well, I came to bring you some food, since I figured you wouldn't have much in. And I was right."
"And when I didn't answer the door you just decided to let yourself in and ... clean?"
"Yes." She nodded abruptly, electing to forgo the lecture about her lack of food in the house for now. "Cleaning, I can do. Grocery shopping, food preparation. These are all things I can do for you."
"I'm capable of cleaning my own apartment, Catherine." Sara scowled, offended by the insinuation. "If I wanted a maid, I'd hire one."
"You agreed to let me help." Cath pointed out, softening her tone.
"I did not agree to this." She countered indignantly, gesturing to the washing machine which continued to burble to itself.
"Sara," Cath rested her elbows on the counter, putting herself at eye level with her friend. "I can't make you better, honey. I can't take this horrible illness away and make it all right again – believe me, I would if I could, but I can't."
Sara had cast her gaze down, making it difficult to tell whether her message was being received. Straightening up, Cath walked around to the other side of the bench, so she was standing in front of Sara, and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders.
"But I also can't just sit back and do nothing." She continued firmly. "That's not who I am. So, you can accept my help or not, but you're going to get it either way. It's not much, but if doing your housework and making sure you get enough to eat is all I can do, then that's exactly what I'm going to do. And, as I recall, you did promise to let me help in exchange for my silence at work."
Despite her annoyance at having her privacy so intrusively invaded, Sara's couldn't argue with that point.
"So," Cath pressed, sensing a waning in her stubbornness. "Are you going to let me help you?"
"Does it even matter if I say no at this point?"
Catherine beamed, accepting her resignation on the matter. She enveloped Sara into a hug, emitting a relieved sigh.
"Just promise me one thing." She mumbled against her stricken colleague's ear.
"Oh don't worry, I'll lock the door next time!"
"Not that." She chuckled, briefly tightening her grip. "Promise me that you're going to beat this thing."
Sara sat back from the embrace, readjusting Maverick on her lap.
"I'm going to try."
"No, trying isn't good enough." Cath shook her head sternly. "I need to know that you're going to get better."
Sara met her gaze, seeing something that she had rarely ever witnessed on Catherine Willows' face before. In fact, the last time she had seen that look in her eyes was when they'd been hauling Eddie's car out of the ravine while Lindsey watched on, awaiting news of her father.
Sara knew that Catherine was not a woman who scared easily. But she was scared right now.
"Okay." She pursed her lips, offering a small nod. "I promise."
Cath grinned again, cupping her cheek.
"That's my girl. All I want you to do is focus on that. Everything else, you leave to me." She tapped Maverick lightly on the nose. "Starting with him. Why don't I take him for a walk while you have a shower and wake yourself up a bit. Then, when I get back, I'll make you something to eat."
It wasn't a question and Sara didn't bother to answer. Maverick jumped down at her utterance of the 'w'-word and instantly went to sit by the door while Catherine collected his leash from the hook beside it.
"Hey Cat," Sara drawled, dragging a tired hand through her hair while propping her head up with the other.
"Yeah?" The blonde turned in the threshold.
"Next time you see your sister, tell her she's a dead woman."