Hi guys. Thanks for the reviews. And thanks for the encouragement Jane
Doe. You rock. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Again, it probably will
give new meaning to the word angst, so have a drink or something while
you're reading it.
*********************
Grissom felt groggy, but fairly oriented. It was six hours since his surgery. He knew what had happened. The memories would be etched into the recesses of his mind forever. He would not give in to the pain. They had provided him with a morphine pump, though it did nothing to dull the ache in his heart. His thoughts were of her.
He had a vague recollection of voices and faces from when he'd first come out of the anaesthetic. Catherine had grasped his hand and spoken to him. He hadn't been able to understand what she was saying. A brief flash of Nick and Warrick standing on either side of his bed played through his mind. Brass had come in at some point. Greg was with him. The young man's eyes had a haunted look. Grissom had struggled to ask about Sara, but hadn't been able to vocalize anything. His throat was still swollen and irritated from the surgery and he fought hard to remain awake. The faces had all faded rather quickly as his eyelids grew heavy and sleep claimed him again.
Awake and in pain, Grissom ran his tongue over his cracked lips. Finally, he saw her standing in the shadows beside the window and he tried to raise his voice above the harsh whisper that it was. "Cath?"
Catherine turned and walked to his bed. "I'm right here, Gil," she said, gently taking his hand into hers.
"I need to know. About Sara. Please tell me."
Catherine had known this would be the first question out of his mouth once he'd more fully come around. She dreaded it, but part of the reason she'd sat by his bed for the past two hours was that she wanted to be the one to tell him. She didn't want the reserved, detached voice of a doctor or nurse telling him about Sara. Gil was a close friend. He deserved to hear the news from her.
Putting his hand in both of hers, Catherine paused before looking into his eyes. "Sara's in a coma, Gil. Her doctors really haven't been able to give us an indication of when or if she'll come out of it."
Grissom felt relief and pain in the same instant. He had been afraid that she'd left him. The sheer joy at discovering that she still breathed was all but smashed to bits by the fact that she was comatose.
"Why, uh, why?" His voice broke on the words and he bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. His shoulder suddenly throbbed more and he pushed the button on the morphine pump. He was glad it only released one dose at a time, or he might have been tempted to dose himself until he fell asleep. Asleep and away from people that told him Sara might not wake up. Away from the world in which Sara no longer laughed, smiled, yelled or came out in the cold to wrap a blanket around his shoulders and sit with him while he tested a theory.
"There was a lot of internal bleeding. The surgeons repaired her punctured lung and the ribs."
She paused; finding herself caught up once again in the emotions of just a few hours prior. The doctors had been detailed and not overly optimistic as they delivered their news. Catherine had found her eyes roaming over the faces of her friends as the prognosis continued to hit them all. Greg had stalked off, needing to be alone. Nick seemed to be at a complete loss for words. Warrick and Brass had tried to comfort her, but she could feel herself pushing both of them away. Two hours later, they'd learned that Sara wasn't coming out of the anaesthetic and was suspected to be in a coma.
"Catherine?" Grissom's hoarse voice snapped her back to the present.
"Uh, apparently it was very touch and go. The surgeons had her in there a long time."
His eyes had closed and she noticed his breathing had become more rapid.
"Are you sure you want to hear this now, Gil?" Maybe you should rest."
His eyes sprung open and he tried to compose himself. "No. I mean I need to hear it. I have to know what we're up against. Please, Cath?"
Catherine sighed and nodded her head. "Sara has some severe bruising to several internal organs. Along with bleeding."
"He hurt her, Catherine. I saw the bruises. I should've done something sooner. I waited too long. I waited too fucking long."
"No, Gil. I'm not going to let you do this. I won't. Dunn is a sick son- of-a-bitch and is fully responsible for what he did to you and Sara. I will not stand by and let you blame yourself. Sara wouldn't tolerate it and neither will I."
He seemed to sink further into the bed and his head was pressed against the pillow. "Please, Catherine. I need you to tell me everything. Why is she in a, I mean why is she unconscious?"
"The doctors are concerned about how long her brain went without oxygen."
She felt him tense. Damn, this was hard for her to say. She could only imagine how bad it was for him to hear. "They, uh, aren't sure if there's brain damage." God, she thought, that'll kill him. She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Gil."
"When?" he choked as the words caught in his throat and he wasn't able to complete the sentence. His hand depressed the button on the morphine pump, knowing it was too soon for another dose. He silently cursed the machine.
"Gil?"
"When, when will they know?"
"They'll do a scan for brain activity in the next few hours. They want to give her time after the surgery."
"Was it the drugs, Catherine?"
"I don't know. The doctors seem to think it was a combination: shock, oxygen deprivation, blood loss. I'm sure the drugs played some part." She shrugged helplessly and gripped his hand tighter.
"If Sara's not all right, I'll get him."
"Dunn's burned over fifty percent of his body. He may not live," Catherine said evenly.
"Good," he replied and Catherine realized she'd never before seen such pure hatred on his face.
Grissom locked his eyes with Catherine's. "I want to see her. Please, I need to see her."
"I know you do. I'm pretty sure you're not able to leave this room. They're going to keep you here in ICU for at least twelve hours. You need to heal a bit yourself, Griss.
"Soon, Cath. You arrange it. Please."
He closed his eyes, trying to vanquish the pain that now consumed his soul. His only escape was drugged sleep and his last action was another useless push on the morphine pump.
Catherine rubbed the back of his hand and placed it gently across his chest. His breathing soon became slow and rhythmic.
"Sleep well," she whispered, before turning to leave the room.
***************************
Warrick walked down the hall toward the ICU nurses' station. He'd gone home and gotten some much-needed sleep. Catherine had left shortly after him. Her talk with Grissom had drained every last reserve she had. Nick was grabbing a short nap before going in to coordinate cases for the nightshift. The dayshift had been cycling people in and out on overtime to assist graveyard since this all began. Warrick realized they'd all soon be back into the routine, despite two of their team members lying in hospital beds. He and Catherine were both scheduled to pull half-shifts later that night. Despite the rest, he couldn't suppress a rather loud yawn.
"Sounds like you didn't get quite enough sleep."
He turned at the sound of Catherine's voice. "Hey. No, can't say it was entirely restful. How 'bout you?" He stopped walking and waited for her to catch up.
"Not great," she conceded. "But, I spent some time with Lindsey."
He gave her a grin. "How's she doing?"
"Wanted to know why I've been at work so much for the past few days."
"You tell her?"
"Well, she sensed something was wrong. I told her that Sara and Grissom were hurt. She gave me a hug and told me not to worry."
"She's a great kid."
"Yes, she is," Catherine laughed.
They continued on in companionable silence as they approached the ICU nurse's station.
"I called earlier," Catherine addressed a nurse. "Any change in Mr. Grissom's status?"
The nurse checked a chart briefly. "No, he's still stable. In fact, they'll be moving him off this floor and into a regular room. Half hour maybe."
"Thanks," Warrick acknowledged the good news. "How about Sara Sidle?"
The nurse didn't need to consult a chart. "I'm sorry, there's been no change."
"Ok," Catherine nodded. "Can we see her?"
"Sure. The doctor might still be in there. Just try and keep it under ten minutes," she gave them a slight smile. "She's in 433, but I'm sure you remember."
"Yeah, thanks again," Catherine threw over her shoulder as they continued down the corridor.
A doctor was just existing Sara's room and they recognized him as the neurologist that had spoken to them a few hours prior. He nodded at the two CSI's.
"We'll be doing the scan within the hour."
"And that'll tell us about the level of brain activity?" Warrick asked bluntly.
"In a best-case scenario, yes. Ms. Sidle is breathing independently, so we know she has basic function. Whether or not higher function has been impaired due to oxygen deprivation remains to be seen."
"Doctor," Catherine paused, "our co-worker, Gil Grissom is quite anxious to see Sara. They're very close."
"That's the gentleman down the hall? The one who was being held with her?"
They both nodded.
"I don't have a problem with that, but you really should be speaking to his doctor. It's not my call."
Warrick nodded his head. "We'll do that."
"Uh, you'll keep us informed on the results of the scan?" Catherine spoke as the doctor turned to leave.
"Someone will, yes."
******************************************
Jim Brass took a seat by Grissom's bed. The CSI's eyes were closed and Brass debated about whether or not he should stay. He couldn't help but note that his friend looked considerably better than the last time he'd seen him. Grissom shifted uncomfortably and his eyes opened, taking in the man beside his bed.
"Hey," Grissom managed, his voice still hoarse.
"Hey, yourself," Brass gave him a small grin. "How you feeling?"
"If someone could bring me a T-shirt with 'Like Shit' printed on the front, then I could stop answering that question."
Brass laughed. "Well, if you can manage to say all that, you must be feeling better."
"Any change in Sara's condition, Jim?"
"I haven't actually talked with anyone, but I looked in on her a few minutes ago. Guess nobody knows if she can hear us or not, but I told her you were ok and that you'd be in to see her soon."
Grissom nodded and his eyes conveyed his thanks. Jim watched as the CSI slowly sunk into the pillow and fell asleep. Brass relaxed into the back of the chair and decided he could stay a little longer.
TBC
*********************
Grissom felt groggy, but fairly oriented. It was six hours since his surgery. He knew what had happened. The memories would be etched into the recesses of his mind forever. He would not give in to the pain. They had provided him with a morphine pump, though it did nothing to dull the ache in his heart. His thoughts were of her.
He had a vague recollection of voices and faces from when he'd first come out of the anaesthetic. Catherine had grasped his hand and spoken to him. He hadn't been able to understand what she was saying. A brief flash of Nick and Warrick standing on either side of his bed played through his mind. Brass had come in at some point. Greg was with him. The young man's eyes had a haunted look. Grissom had struggled to ask about Sara, but hadn't been able to vocalize anything. His throat was still swollen and irritated from the surgery and he fought hard to remain awake. The faces had all faded rather quickly as his eyelids grew heavy and sleep claimed him again.
Awake and in pain, Grissom ran his tongue over his cracked lips. Finally, he saw her standing in the shadows beside the window and he tried to raise his voice above the harsh whisper that it was. "Cath?"
Catherine turned and walked to his bed. "I'm right here, Gil," she said, gently taking his hand into hers.
"I need to know. About Sara. Please tell me."
Catherine had known this would be the first question out of his mouth once he'd more fully come around. She dreaded it, but part of the reason she'd sat by his bed for the past two hours was that she wanted to be the one to tell him. She didn't want the reserved, detached voice of a doctor or nurse telling him about Sara. Gil was a close friend. He deserved to hear the news from her.
Putting his hand in both of hers, Catherine paused before looking into his eyes. "Sara's in a coma, Gil. Her doctors really haven't been able to give us an indication of when or if she'll come out of it."
Grissom felt relief and pain in the same instant. He had been afraid that she'd left him. The sheer joy at discovering that she still breathed was all but smashed to bits by the fact that she was comatose.
"Why, uh, why?" His voice broke on the words and he bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. His shoulder suddenly throbbed more and he pushed the button on the morphine pump. He was glad it only released one dose at a time, or he might have been tempted to dose himself until he fell asleep. Asleep and away from people that told him Sara might not wake up. Away from the world in which Sara no longer laughed, smiled, yelled or came out in the cold to wrap a blanket around his shoulders and sit with him while he tested a theory.
"There was a lot of internal bleeding. The surgeons repaired her punctured lung and the ribs."
She paused; finding herself caught up once again in the emotions of just a few hours prior. The doctors had been detailed and not overly optimistic as they delivered their news. Catherine had found her eyes roaming over the faces of her friends as the prognosis continued to hit them all. Greg had stalked off, needing to be alone. Nick seemed to be at a complete loss for words. Warrick and Brass had tried to comfort her, but she could feel herself pushing both of them away. Two hours later, they'd learned that Sara wasn't coming out of the anaesthetic and was suspected to be in a coma.
"Catherine?" Grissom's hoarse voice snapped her back to the present.
"Uh, apparently it was very touch and go. The surgeons had her in there a long time."
His eyes had closed and she noticed his breathing had become more rapid.
"Are you sure you want to hear this now, Gil?" Maybe you should rest."
His eyes sprung open and he tried to compose himself. "No. I mean I need to hear it. I have to know what we're up against. Please, Cath?"
Catherine sighed and nodded her head. "Sara has some severe bruising to several internal organs. Along with bleeding."
"He hurt her, Catherine. I saw the bruises. I should've done something sooner. I waited too long. I waited too fucking long."
"No, Gil. I'm not going to let you do this. I won't. Dunn is a sick son- of-a-bitch and is fully responsible for what he did to you and Sara. I will not stand by and let you blame yourself. Sara wouldn't tolerate it and neither will I."
He seemed to sink further into the bed and his head was pressed against the pillow. "Please, Catherine. I need you to tell me everything. Why is she in a, I mean why is she unconscious?"
"The doctors are concerned about how long her brain went without oxygen."
She felt him tense. Damn, this was hard for her to say. She could only imagine how bad it was for him to hear. "They, uh, aren't sure if there's brain damage." God, she thought, that'll kill him. She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Gil."
"When?" he choked as the words caught in his throat and he wasn't able to complete the sentence. His hand depressed the button on the morphine pump, knowing it was too soon for another dose. He silently cursed the machine.
"Gil?"
"When, when will they know?"
"They'll do a scan for brain activity in the next few hours. They want to give her time after the surgery."
"Was it the drugs, Catherine?"
"I don't know. The doctors seem to think it was a combination: shock, oxygen deprivation, blood loss. I'm sure the drugs played some part." She shrugged helplessly and gripped his hand tighter.
"If Sara's not all right, I'll get him."
"Dunn's burned over fifty percent of his body. He may not live," Catherine said evenly.
"Good," he replied and Catherine realized she'd never before seen such pure hatred on his face.
Grissom locked his eyes with Catherine's. "I want to see her. Please, I need to see her."
"I know you do. I'm pretty sure you're not able to leave this room. They're going to keep you here in ICU for at least twelve hours. You need to heal a bit yourself, Griss.
"Soon, Cath. You arrange it. Please."
He closed his eyes, trying to vanquish the pain that now consumed his soul. His only escape was drugged sleep and his last action was another useless push on the morphine pump.
Catherine rubbed the back of his hand and placed it gently across his chest. His breathing soon became slow and rhythmic.
"Sleep well," she whispered, before turning to leave the room.
***************************
Warrick walked down the hall toward the ICU nurses' station. He'd gone home and gotten some much-needed sleep. Catherine had left shortly after him. Her talk with Grissom had drained every last reserve she had. Nick was grabbing a short nap before going in to coordinate cases for the nightshift. The dayshift had been cycling people in and out on overtime to assist graveyard since this all began. Warrick realized they'd all soon be back into the routine, despite two of their team members lying in hospital beds. He and Catherine were both scheduled to pull half-shifts later that night. Despite the rest, he couldn't suppress a rather loud yawn.
"Sounds like you didn't get quite enough sleep."
He turned at the sound of Catherine's voice. "Hey. No, can't say it was entirely restful. How 'bout you?" He stopped walking and waited for her to catch up.
"Not great," she conceded. "But, I spent some time with Lindsey."
He gave her a grin. "How's she doing?"
"Wanted to know why I've been at work so much for the past few days."
"You tell her?"
"Well, she sensed something was wrong. I told her that Sara and Grissom were hurt. She gave me a hug and told me not to worry."
"She's a great kid."
"Yes, she is," Catherine laughed.
They continued on in companionable silence as they approached the ICU nurse's station.
"I called earlier," Catherine addressed a nurse. "Any change in Mr. Grissom's status?"
The nurse checked a chart briefly. "No, he's still stable. In fact, they'll be moving him off this floor and into a regular room. Half hour maybe."
"Thanks," Warrick acknowledged the good news. "How about Sara Sidle?"
The nurse didn't need to consult a chart. "I'm sorry, there's been no change."
"Ok," Catherine nodded. "Can we see her?"
"Sure. The doctor might still be in there. Just try and keep it under ten minutes," she gave them a slight smile. "She's in 433, but I'm sure you remember."
"Yeah, thanks again," Catherine threw over her shoulder as they continued down the corridor.
A doctor was just existing Sara's room and they recognized him as the neurologist that had spoken to them a few hours prior. He nodded at the two CSI's.
"We'll be doing the scan within the hour."
"And that'll tell us about the level of brain activity?" Warrick asked bluntly.
"In a best-case scenario, yes. Ms. Sidle is breathing independently, so we know she has basic function. Whether or not higher function has been impaired due to oxygen deprivation remains to be seen."
"Doctor," Catherine paused, "our co-worker, Gil Grissom is quite anxious to see Sara. They're very close."
"That's the gentleman down the hall? The one who was being held with her?"
They both nodded.
"I don't have a problem with that, but you really should be speaking to his doctor. It's not my call."
Warrick nodded his head. "We'll do that."
"Uh, you'll keep us informed on the results of the scan?" Catherine spoke as the doctor turned to leave.
"Someone will, yes."
******************************************
Jim Brass took a seat by Grissom's bed. The CSI's eyes were closed and Brass debated about whether or not he should stay. He couldn't help but note that his friend looked considerably better than the last time he'd seen him. Grissom shifted uncomfortably and his eyes opened, taking in the man beside his bed.
"Hey," Grissom managed, his voice still hoarse.
"Hey, yourself," Brass gave him a small grin. "How you feeling?"
"If someone could bring me a T-shirt with 'Like Shit' printed on the front, then I could stop answering that question."
Brass laughed. "Well, if you can manage to say all that, you must be feeling better."
"Any change in Sara's condition, Jim?"
"I haven't actually talked with anyone, but I looked in on her a few minutes ago. Guess nobody knows if she can hear us or not, but I told her you were ok and that you'd be in to see her soon."
Grissom nodded and his eyes conveyed his thanks. Jim watched as the CSI slowly sunk into the pillow and fell asleep. Brass relaxed into the back of the chair and decided he could stay a little longer.
TBC