My vision was blurry when I finally came to. Every joint in my body was
aching. I could feel oxygen straws breathing air into my nostrils. I
struggled against the haziness around me and fought hard to remember where
I was.
The last thing I remembered was lying inside a small, concrete room; fire closing in on me from all angles. I was struggling for breath, and through the wall of fire came a man. A strong man with a heavy jacket, a big hat, and tall, knee-high, rubber boots. A fireman. I couldn't remember anything else after that.
"She's back," I heard Catherine say, her voice thick with emotion. "Lindsay, go get the nurse, or a doctor, anyone."
I watched a blurry figure run out of the room. I coughed, the movement causing pain to sear through my body. A tall figure ran back into the room, joining the blurry figure that I had already established as Catherine. I blinked my eyes a few more times. The blurs took shape into people.
Catherine was sitting by the hospital bed, clutching a handkerchief in her hand and dabbing at her eyes every once in awhile. At her side, Grissom sat stoically, holding tightly onto Catherine's hand; being her rock, as usual. Lindsay was leaning against the doorframe, nervously chewing on the inside of her cheek.
"Welcome back, Ms. Sidle," the doctor said, leaning over me and checking my pulse. He was tall, with brown hair and a kind face. He reminded me of my dad. Or.well.Nick. It was still hard to believe that he wasn't my real father.
"How long have I been here?" I asked, my voice hoarse and scratchy, and my throat raw from the effort to talk.
"Almost four days," he answered.
I looked over at Catherine for confirmation. She nodded and dabbed at her eyes. "How much longer does she have to stay here?" Grissom asked.
"Just a day or two longer," the doctor answered, "just a safety precaution."
Catherine reached out and squeezed my hand. I looked into her eyes and knew that she wanted to talk about what happened; about Hank; about my real father. The doctor seemed to sense that we wanted a private moment. "I'm going to go take care of some other patients," he said. "I'll send a nurse to check on you in half an hour."
"Thanks," I whispered.
He left the hospital room, closing the door behind him. I turned my attention to Lindsay. "Hey," I whispered. "What are you doing here?"
"Are you kidding?" She asked, brushing her long blond hair out of her face. "My mom called me the second you went missing." She walked closer and sat down on the edge of the bed. She was careful to stay enough of a distance away to keep from causing me anymore pain. She leaned over and kissed my forehead. "I love you, Amy," she said, her voice breaking with emotion.
"It's OK, Linds," I said quietly. "I'm OK."
"Are you?" Catherine asked. She looked away from me. "I'm assuming you know the truth now. About your mother.and.Nick."
I nodded. The pain from the revelation was still so fresh. It hurt to think about it. But there was no escaping the truth. It's part of who I am. "So Hank was my real father?"
"No," Catherine said, firmly. "He was your biological father. But Nick was your real father."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Let me explain it," Lindsay said, bringing my attention back to her. "My biological father, Eddie, was never a good father to me. He never treated me the way a real father should. The only time we ever got to spend any time together was when we went to visit one of his many girlfriends. I didn't realize it at the time, but he wasn't a good father to me. He wasn't a real father to me. But then Gil came along." She paused and looked at Grissom.
"Gil wasn't my quote-unquote 'real' father, but he always acted like one anyway, even before he and my mom got married. And even though I don't call him my dad, to me, he is the real deal." She paused for a moment.
I glanced over at Grissom, and, to my surprise, tears were filling his eyes and threatening to spill over. "You know that Garth Brooks song?" Catherine asked. "The one that goes 'Blood is thicker than water. But love is thicker than blood.'"
As if realizing what her mother was getting at, Lindsay explained it to me. "It's about how blood is incredibly strong, but love is a force that's a million times stronger. It doesn't matter if you're related by blood to someone. As long as you love each other like a family should, then you're a family."
Grissom cleared his throat, pulling my attention to him. "You're not related to any of us by blood, but you're like family to us. We love you like a family does, and that's really all that should matter."
I drew in a deep, quivering breath. A steady stream of tears fell from my eyes. Catherine leaned forward and drew me into her arms. I ignored the pain that gripped me, holding on, instead to the love that was radiating from Catherine. Lindsay leaned forward to and joined the hug, and, before long, Grissom had joined too. We spent the next twenty minutes in a tangled, crying mass on a hospital bed in the middle of Las Vegas.
Things were never the same for me after that. Although I had never come straight out and said it, I had been blaming myself for my parents' death. I thought that if they hadn't been out driving me to the party, then they never would have gotten into the accident. But after meeting Hank, and hearing the truth, I knew that it had nothing to do with me.
And, even more valuable than that, I learned the truth about who I was. I learned about the greatest man who ever lived; a man who married the woman he loved and raised her daughter as his own, although I'm sure it must have pained him every time he looked at me. But he never once let me see that pain.
Catherine and Lindsay were right. No matter what Hank said, Nick Stokes will always be my father. I will never think of him as anything else. I will always be Amy Stokes. Because it's true: love is thicker than blood.
THE END
The last thing I remembered was lying inside a small, concrete room; fire closing in on me from all angles. I was struggling for breath, and through the wall of fire came a man. A strong man with a heavy jacket, a big hat, and tall, knee-high, rubber boots. A fireman. I couldn't remember anything else after that.
"She's back," I heard Catherine say, her voice thick with emotion. "Lindsay, go get the nurse, or a doctor, anyone."
I watched a blurry figure run out of the room. I coughed, the movement causing pain to sear through my body. A tall figure ran back into the room, joining the blurry figure that I had already established as Catherine. I blinked my eyes a few more times. The blurs took shape into people.
Catherine was sitting by the hospital bed, clutching a handkerchief in her hand and dabbing at her eyes every once in awhile. At her side, Grissom sat stoically, holding tightly onto Catherine's hand; being her rock, as usual. Lindsay was leaning against the doorframe, nervously chewing on the inside of her cheek.
"Welcome back, Ms. Sidle," the doctor said, leaning over me and checking my pulse. He was tall, with brown hair and a kind face. He reminded me of my dad. Or.well.Nick. It was still hard to believe that he wasn't my real father.
"How long have I been here?" I asked, my voice hoarse and scratchy, and my throat raw from the effort to talk.
"Almost four days," he answered.
I looked over at Catherine for confirmation. She nodded and dabbed at her eyes. "How much longer does she have to stay here?" Grissom asked.
"Just a day or two longer," the doctor answered, "just a safety precaution."
Catherine reached out and squeezed my hand. I looked into her eyes and knew that she wanted to talk about what happened; about Hank; about my real father. The doctor seemed to sense that we wanted a private moment. "I'm going to go take care of some other patients," he said. "I'll send a nurse to check on you in half an hour."
"Thanks," I whispered.
He left the hospital room, closing the door behind him. I turned my attention to Lindsay. "Hey," I whispered. "What are you doing here?"
"Are you kidding?" She asked, brushing her long blond hair out of her face. "My mom called me the second you went missing." She walked closer and sat down on the edge of the bed. She was careful to stay enough of a distance away to keep from causing me anymore pain. She leaned over and kissed my forehead. "I love you, Amy," she said, her voice breaking with emotion.
"It's OK, Linds," I said quietly. "I'm OK."
"Are you?" Catherine asked. She looked away from me. "I'm assuming you know the truth now. About your mother.and.Nick."
I nodded. The pain from the revelation was still so fresh. It hurt to think about it. But there was no escaping the truth. It's part of who I am. "So Hank was my real father?"
"No," Catherine said, firmly. "He was your biological father. But Nick was your real father."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Let me explain it," Lindsay said, bringing my attention back to her. "My biological father, Eddie, was never a good father to me. He never treated me the way a real father should. The only time we ever got to spend any time together was when we went to visit one of his many girlfriends. I didn't realize it at the time, but he wasn't a good father to me. He wasn't a real father to me. But then Gil came along." She paused and looked at Grissom.
"Gil wasn't my quote-unquote 'real' father, but he always acted like one anyway, even before he and my mom got married. And even though I don't call him my dad, to me, he is the real deal." She paused for a moment.
I glanced over at Grissom, and, to my surprise, tears were filling his eyes and threatening to spill over. "You know that Garth Brooks song?" Catherine asked. "The one that goes 'Blood is thicker than water. But love is thicker than blood.'"
As if realizing what her mother was getting at, Lindsay explained it to me. "It's about how blood is incredibly strong, but love is a force that's a million times stronger. It doesn't matter if you're related by blood to someone. As long as you love each other like a family should, then you're a family."
Grissom cleared his throat, pulling my attention to him. "You're not related to any of us by blood, but you're like family to us. We love you like a family does, and that's really all that should matter."
I drew in a deep, quivering breath. A steady stream of tears fell from my eyes. Catherine leaned forward and drew me into her arms. I ignored the pain that gripped me, holding on, instead to the love that was radiating from Catherine. Lindsay leaned forward to and joined the hug, and, before long, Grissom had joined too. We spent the next twenty minutes in a tangled, crying mass on a hospital bed in the middle of Las Vegas.
Things were never the same for me after that. Although I had never come straight out and said it, I had been blaming myself for my parents' death. I thought that if they hadn't been out driving me to the party, then they never would have gotten into the accident. But after meeting Hank, and hearing the truth, I knew that it had nothing to do with me.
And, even more valuable than that, I learned the truth about who I was. I learned about the greatest man who ever lived; a man who married the woman he loved and raised her daughter as his own, although I'm sure it must have pained him every time he looked at me. But he never once let me see that pain.
Catherine and Lindsay were right. No matter what Hank said, Nick Stokes will always be my father. I will never think of him as anything else. I will always be Amy Stokes. Because it's true: love is thicker than blood.
THE END