Chapter 4

"That was close. Do we have any idea who started it?"

"No, Morgan and Finn are over there now. I told them to call me as soon as they find something."

"And Greg?"

"He's on his way."

"Someone should call Betty."

"I already did, she's on her way."

"And Grissom?"

"Do you think we should call him?"

"I don't know. He's still technically listed as her next of kin."

"What do you think, Nick?" A pause.

"I think we should. If I know Grissom, he'll want to know," Nick said.

"He didn't seem to care when Basderic went after her."

"I don't know, Russell. He got on the first flight back when I told him about it."

"You told him?" Russell asked.

"Of course, I did. Before I knew about… By the time Griss was back in the States, Basderic was in custody. Grissom seemed to think it was best he stayed away, once he knew she was alright," Nick replied.

"Do you have his number?"

"I'm not sure if it's current, but Brass'll probably have it," Nick replied. "I'll ask him to try."

"Where is he?"

"Talking to the doctor," Nick said. "He should be in, in a moment."

The voices faded out at that. Sara's thoughts were in confusion. Where was she? Where was Grissom? Why did her throat hurt? Why was it so hot?

"There's been an explosion," someone said. Greg? "At the Eclipse."

"The Eclipse? What happened?" Nick?

"We're not sure. Catherine's on her way back. Russell called her."

"Damn," Nick said. "Does she know about Sara?"

"Yeah, she called me. She's going to stop by once she's been to the scene." A pause. "Ecklie wants all hands on deck."

"I'm not leaving until she wakes up," Nick said.

"I know," Greg replied. "Ecklie's pulled Hodges and Henry out of the lab, I've gotta go and supervise."

"Let me know what's going on."

People were talking again, but Sara didn't pay attention. It was as if she were in the ocean. The gentle pounding of the waves filled her ears and her limbs felt light. She was floating.

"-superficial burning. It's her throat that I'm most concerned about," another voice said. Deep and rusty. "She took in a lot of smoke." The sound faded out and Sara didn't hear the rest. Though the rusty voice was still drifting around her. "-should be waking soon. As soon as she does, we'll come and check on her."

Footsteps and the sound of a door, gently, closing.

"Any news from the scene?" Nick asked.

"A witness statement." A pause.

"What is it, Greg?"

"Catherine spoke to the witness," Greg said. "Apparently the bomber said: 'tell Dr Grissom, I'm doing this for Lady Heather'." A pause. "Ecklie's left him a message. He wants to call Grissom in if Lady Heather is involved."

"Has he been able to get hold of him?"

"I don't know."

Silence. There was silence except for the waves softly pounding at her ears. Lady Heather? Grissom? What was going on? Sara must have slept then because the next thing she could hear was Nicks voice.

"I'm not sure, Mrs Grissom," he said. Mrs Grissom? Betty. Betty was here. "The doctor came in a moment ago to check on her. She should have woken up by now, but she took in a lot of smoke."

"Is she alright?" A male voice asked. Clarke, Betty's interpreter.

"She's got some superficial injuries," Nick said. "Nothing to worry about though."

A ghost of a touch reached her, and Sara could feel a slight pressure on her fingers. Someone was holding her hand. Betty? The pressure lifted, then a voice.

"Has someone called Gil?" Clark asked.

"Captain Brass is trying to contact him now," Nick replied. There was something in her friend's voice, but Sara couldn't work out what it was. She was so tired.

"Sara?" Clarke's voice sounded again. "Sara, honey, can you hear me?"

Betty was trying to speak to her. Sara wanted to open her eyes. She tried, desperately, to pry them apart. But they wouldn't obey.

"Somethings happening," Clarke said again. "Sara?"

"Mom?" Sara croaked. Her voice didn't sound like hers. It was too deep. Too rough.

"I'm here, honey," Clarke said. Sara's eyelids flicked open, she closed them again as the light assaulted her iris before they fluttered open once more. The ghost pressure returned to her hand and her eyes adjusted to the light.

She was in the hospital. The sound of a heart monitor reached her ears, and a voice was calling over the tannoid. Sara looked around. Nick was bending over her, Greg was stood at the foot of her bed, and to her right sat Betty Grissom. When Sara met the older woman's gaze, tears started to gather in her mother-in-law's eyes.

Betty stroked Sara's cheeks, a faint touch she wasn't sure was because of her still half-sleep state or Betty's light contact. She lifted her hands. Clarke interpreted, though Sara didn't need him too.

"How are you feeling?" Betty asked. Sara tried to lift her hands to reply, but Betty held them. "It's ok," she signed. "Clarke's here, just speak."

"I'm…" she stopped, trying to clear her throat. Nick was there in a flash. A glass of water appeared in front of her, and Sara took a sip through the straw. "I'm, ok?" It came out as a question and Betty laughed, shaking her head as she read the signs Clark gave her.

"You're not ok," Betty signed. "But at least you're awake now."

"You gave us one hell of a scare, Sara," Nick said from her left. Sara looked over to him. His eyes were red, like he hadn't slept in days.

"How long," Sara began. "How long have I been out?"

"A couple of hours, you were brought in last night," Nick said.

"What happened?"

"We don't know yet," Greg replied. Sara looked to him. The young man looked more haggard than she had ever seen him. "Morgan and Finn are still at the scene. Russell went to check on them, he asked us to call him when you woke up."

"I'll do that," another voice said. Sara's gaze swung to the corner of the room. Brass was straightening from his place by the window. "I'll let the doctor know you're awake too." The older man looked her over, relief lighting his face. "It's good to see your eyes open again, Sidle," he said before he bustled out of the room, running a hand over his face as he went.

Sara watched him go before turning her attention back to the other occupants of the room. Nick was still hovering over her. Like he was afraid she might slip away. Greg's grip on the end of her bed had loosen somewhat, but his knuckles were still white. Betty was sat to her right, fussing over her bed sheets, tears still straining to free themselves. Clark stood beside her; he gave Sara a small smile when their gaze met. She had always liked the young man.

She met Nick's eyes once more and he answered her unspoken question.

"We haven't been able to get hold of him yet," he said softly. "Brass left him a message. He'll let us know if he hears anything."

Tears spung into Sara's eyes. If he hears anything. Not when. If.

"Sara," Nick said at the sight of her tears. "I'm sorry, I meant…" but Sara shook her head. She knew what he meant, but she also knew the Texan's opinion of Grissom had been dropping more and more as the years went by.

Sara didn't know what was worse: that Nick was losing faith in his old mentor, or that she was starting to lose faith in him also.

Sara looked over at Betty, Clarke had translated what had been said and the older woman's face reflected exactly what Sara was feeling: love and pain.

Betty was Grissom's mother; she would always believe the best in her son. And, despite everything, maintained the belief that he would, one day, come back to them both. It was that belief that Sara decided to hold onto. In spite of her claims that she was searching for closure, Sara couldn't squash the hope that he might still care. Might still want. Might still…

The door opened and a young man walked in. Dark hair, grey eyed, and handsome. Probably around his early thirties.

"Ah, Ms Sidle. I'm glad to see you are awake." He smiled down at her, his voice deeper and more rustic than she would have pictured. "As you can see, you fan club had refused to leave you side ever since they showed up." Though his face seemed light, there was no mistaking the hint of disapproval in the man's voice.

Sara couldn't suppress the smile at the image of the four of them, mainly Betty, facing down the young doctor. Refusing to leave. Nick and Greg probably pulling the law enforcement card so they could stay.

"I'm Doctor Jenkins, I just want to check you over." He came forward then, Betty giving him a criticising look when he made to move her away. Sara pursed her lips, trying not to grin. The older woman shot her a wink and she had to look away so she didn't burst out laughing. Dr Jenkins walked to the other side of the bed, Nick hastily standing up to give him room.

He checked her vitals and then asked her to open her mouth, flashing a torch down her throat.

"Your throat is still very inflamed," he said, straightening. "We'll give you something for the pain and to sooth it, but for now, I don't want you speaking."

"Why?" She asked.

"Because rest is the best way to get your throat to heal. We'll give you something to help it along, but resting it will speed the process. It will also be less painful."

Sara frowned and signed, "how am I supposed to communicate with my team?" Without missing a beat, Clarke translated. Sara shot him a thankful smile.

Dr Jenkins blinked in surprise at the flawless sign before recovering. "It seems you already have a way of communicating without speech," he said, a little smugly. Sara pursed her lips. Nick coughed and looked away. Greg covered his mouth. Betty just beamed at her.

"I do," Sara signed. "But no one on my team knows how to sign. How am I supposed to communicate with them? Or you for that matter? I'm guessing you know no more sign language than I know Russian."

Nick barked out a laugh then, covering it quickly and Sara grinned up at him. Dr Jenkins paused for a second, seemingly lost for words before saying, "that young man seems more than competent. I'm sure he can translate for you."

"I cannot," Sara signed, indigently. "And will not ask Clarke to stay at my beck and call, just because you haven't taken the time to learn a language spoken by almost a third of the population." Dr Jenkins opened his mouth to speak, but Sara interrupted him. "And if you suggest that I write everything down, I'm afraid you're going to be sorely disappointed. I will not do it."

It wasn't that Sara was against not speaking. She and Grissom, when they were alone, spoke primarily in ASL so that she could learn to sign fluently. But she did have issue with being appearing vulnerable in front of her team. And having to write everything down, relying on pen and paper made Sara feel vulnerable... Exposed. Clarke spoke up then.

"I don't mind translating for you, Sara," he said, signing for Betty's understanding. "Mrs Grissom will want to stay with you and, if she doesn't mind, I'll stay. Even when she goes home." Clarke was no longer interpreting, the three of them spoke purely with their hands.

"I can't ask that of you, Clarke," Sara replied.

"You're not asking, I'm offering," the young man replied. Betty put a hand on Sara's arm, and she looked to her.

"I don't mind Clarke staying with you, if he is happy too," she signed.

"Are you sure?" Sara asked, looking between her mother-in-law and interpreter.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," Sara signed suddenly. What must Betty think of her? Refusing to write things down, when many of the people she comes into contact with day-by-day use that as their main form of communication. "I didn't mean to…" Betty waved her down.

"I'm not offended, Sara," she signed. "I would find it repugnant, too, if I had to write everything to be understood. I do find it repugnant." She smiled at Sara and patted her cheek, Sara sighed with relief. She looked over at the doctor, only to find him looking between Greg and Nick who shrugged. Neither of them knowing what had just happened. When Dr Jenkins looked back at her, Sara signed: "Fine, no speaking. For how long?" Clarke translated.

"A few days at least," Dr Jenkins said, relieved that she was not putting up a fight.

"When can I go home?" Sara asked.

"You can't go home, Sara," Nick said. "It's a crime scene. Plus, it'll take weeks for the repairs to take place."

"Where am I supposed to stay?" Sara signed.

"You can stay at mine," a voice called. Sara looked up and saw Catherine Willows standing in the doorway.