-- CHAPTER ELEVEN: Breathe Redux --

Disclaimers: Refer to Chapter One: Breathe

Author's note: You might recognize some parts of this chapter from before, but I think you should take special notice in the TITLE and the TIMING of this chapter. Although parts are similar, it IS still DIFFERENT at some aspects, so please read on. Also, please read the A/N at the end of the chapter. Well, go on - look at the title and the timing, plus, the POV.

~*~

- Present -

- NICK'S POV -

"I want a divorce!"

"Whatever you want!"

My chest heaved as I spoke such words; my eyes roughly fixed on Sara. I turned to walk out the door, leaving behind my weeping wife. I walked towards my black jeep and slammed the door shut.

"Dammit Sara," I cursed, slamming my hands against the stern steering wheel. Today was our first day in couple's therapy, and to my dismay, the situation ended worse off than it had begun. My head sank at the bitterness and anguish that Sara's tone had taken; the same argument had taken place over the years that we have been married. In an attempt to calm myself, I began my breathing exercises, but I groaned at the sound of my cell phone ringing. Looking over at the phone, I quickly glanced at the small picture that rested on the dashboard. I smiled slightly; I couldn't wait to get home.

"Hi Jessie," I answered, and smiled a little wider before continuing, "I'll be home soon."



Again, I looked over at my daughter's picture. She was utterly my pride and joy, and I very much looked forward to seeing her and getting her ready for school. With such a hectic schedule, Sara and I had enrolled her into an afternoon class to avoid any complications with our conflicted schedule. Sitting in the driver's seat, I remained distracted by the picture of Jessica and Sara side by side at the beach, smiling. Upon further study, the picture made my mind drift to my wife, and I sighed. I regretted that everything had boiled down to this moment, and hating the way I left the therapy session.

'We'll get through this,' I thought optimistically, '-hopefully.'

Hesitantly, I pulled out of the parking space and drove up the Strip towards the home that Sara and I shared.

~*~

Within half an hour, I finally reached home. I parked my car into the driveway and walk across the street to Mrs. Weathers; she was the elderly woman who occasionally looked after Jessie. I knocked on the door to announce my presence,

"Daddy!" her voice rejoiced. She jumped up and pulled me into a hug, I too her up and

"She was an angel, as always." Mrs. Weathers smiled.

"Thank you very much for taking care of Jessie." I waved, "good bye."

"Bye Mrs. Weathers, thank you for the cookies," Jessie said, stuffing another cookie into her mouth. "Daddy, would you like a cookie?" she asked me.

"No thank you. We have to get you ready for school," I replied.

Together, we entered our home, with the cool air conditioning relieving us from the hot Nevada sun. I put her down and sent her off to get ready. She was independent for a five year old, which was something that Sara had instilled in her at a very young age. Their routine involved me preparing dinner, while she went up to get dressed. Usually, she slept in until around nine in the morning, when she would wake up and watch television with me.

After preparing chicken sandwiches for lunch, I wondered where she'd gone. "Jessie, come on, it's lunch time," I said. I heard no response, and she had been quiet.

"Jessie?" I called out, walking out into the foyer and looked up at the staircase. Slowly, I marched up the stairs and walked towards her room, I knocked softly before pushing open the door. "Jessie?" I called. I scanned the room and didn't spot her.

'HIC'

I turned my attention to the hiccupping sound that radiated from the closet. "I wonder where little Jessie is?" I said in a playful tone. "I wonder if she's behind her giant gorilla, no. Or maybe, she's under the bed, no."

"Or, maybe, she's in the closet," I playfully guessed. Each time I searched for her in each respective spot. I flung open the closet doors and saw her sitting in a corner; she was wearing a knitted red and white striped sweater while she played with the ring I had given her that hung on a chain around her neck.

"Sweetie, what are you doing down there?" I asked. "You have to go to school," I said.

"I don't want to go to school," she pouted. "I want to see mommy," she continued.

"Jessie, you know that mommy's busy. You'll see her tonight," I replied. I tried to move her out of the cramped closet, but she doesn't move.

"No!" She screamed, her eyes were misty as I looked at her. "I want to see mommy!"

"Come on, we'll call mommy before you head off to school," I tried to negotiate. Again, I try to lift her up from the floor, but she just doesn't move. "Jessie. Please-" I reasoned with her.

"No! I don't want to go to school, I-want-to-see-mommy!" She screamed once more, sobbing more loudly.

I looked at her, her eyes were red, and her cheeks were flustered. My heart was disappointed, Sara had been pulling many doubles lately, and it was clear in Jessie's eyes that she needed her mother.

"Okay, you can stay home, but only for today. Today, we can do whatever you want to, maybe later, we'll try to visit mommy," I offered. 'Missing one day of school wasn't that bad, she deserved a day off anyway, heck, I deserve a break too,' I thought. "Come here," I whispered. This time, however, she did moved and walked over to give me a hug, "okay, now stop crying," I ordered, kissing her cheek.

~*~

I saw Sara rush past the emergency room entrance, and I noticed her panicked face as she scanned for the closest nursing station. The room held a still silence, with nurses and various doctors walking up and down the hallway.

"Sara!" I called out to her.

"Nick, what the hell happened?" she asked harshly. I could feel an interrogation at hand, but thankfully, a nurse walked out of the nurse's station to interrupt.

"Dr. Redken is coming down to see you now," the nurse said.

"Is she okay?" Sara tried to ask, but the nurse had already returned to her post.

"Why don't we take a seat?" I suggested, in hopes to calm my hysterical wife.

"No, what happened?" Sara demanded. She took a step away from me and raked her fingers through her brown hair.

"They just took her in to try to figure out what happened," I assured.

"Answer me Nick, what happened?" She began pacing.

"She wanted to go to the park, and so we did-" I began to answer.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stokes?" a man questioned.

Sara paused from her pacing and looked up at the middle-aged man in a white lab coat.

"I'm Dr. Redken, Pediatrics," he introduced.

"How is she? Can we see her?" Sara began questioning.

"She's doing all right; just an asthma attack. But we're just running some tests right now. You can see her now, they're bringing her downstairs as we speak," Redken assured.

"Thank you so much Dr. Redken," I replied as I outstretched my hand for a handshake. I felt my heart lift, thankful that Jessie was all right. It was bad enough that I felt exhausted, but I really could not take the strain of knowing that she was ill. I looked at Sara; relief also washed over her frantic face. Together, we sat side by side, anxiously awaiting Jessie's arrival, the clocking ticking at an excruciatingly slow pace while my mind ran rampant.

"Mommy, Daddy!" a child's voice called.

"Jessie!" Sara cried, rushing towards her daughter.

"Hi baby, are you okay?" Sara asked frantically, bending down and pulling Jessie into a hug. Her eyes were moist, relieved to feel her daughter's arms wrap around her neck.

"Mom, I'm okay, really; and look, I got a pretty band-aid," Jessica boasted. But Sara didn't look like she was paying any attention.

Hence, upon receiving no reaction from her mother, Jessie looked over at me. "Daddy, look," she pointed at the band-aid on her arm, pulling away from her mother and rushing towards me.

I got up from my seat, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of my daughter; relief washing over my distressed face and the heaviness lifted from my shoulders. "It's nice," I began, while I pulled her in for a big hug.

After a moment, I drew back some. "Feeling okay, sweetie?" I asked, looking squarely into her green eyes. She nodded as I placed soft kiss on her forehead. 'Oh thank God,' I reassured myself, I looked up at Sara, who seemed to mirror my relief.

"Can we go home now?" Jessie requested.

"Sure thing," I answered, with my voice at a calm plateau. I took her small hand into mine and looked up at Sara; he was sure that she had to return to work. "We'll see you at home tonight," I told her.

"Can Mommy come home too?" Jessie pleaded, as she looked up at me, then at her mother.

'That's a good question,' I commented to myself.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but Mommy has work, and I'm really busy," Sara answered, guilt written on her forehead.

"Okay," our daughter responded quietly, breaking away from her mother's stare.

"I'll see you later," I whispered in Sara's ear, and began tugging Jessie towards the hospital's exit.

~*~

"Hi, you've reached Nick, Sara and Jessie; sorry, but we're not home right now. But if you leave your name and a short message, we'll get back to you as soon as humanly possible," the answering machine said.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Stokes, this is Dr. Redken from Desert Palm Hospital; not to alarm you, but if you could just get back to me as soon a possible, I have some concerns regarding your daughter's test results," the doctor's voice answered.

~*~

"What's going on?" she asked breathlessly.

"Dr. Redken has some concerns about Jessie," I replied, but I was concerned, I too didn't know what had happened. I guided Sara through the maze of corridors and into the elevator.

"What kind of concerns – anything serious?" Sara continued to ask.

"He's running more tests. But he's admitted Jessie. She's in her room with a nurse right now," I replied, my tone swimming with worry and unease over Jessie's health.

Sara stared at me, "why didn't you call me sooner?" she asked, frustrated.

"I did, but you were in court," he protested.

"Well, I came as soon as the trial adjourned."

We both stepped out of the cold steel elevators and onto the quiet floor, a hallway stretching in opposite directions and the sounds of beeping heard from various rooms. We proceeded to march down the hallway, Sara quickening her pace as I motioned her towards the last room on the left. We paused; looking through the glass window and watching our daughter sleep peacefully as we stood.

A nurse sat by the bedside, monitoring Jessie's condition. Sara closed her eyes, but head sat leveled and looked straight ahead.

I just looked on, pained by witnessing my daughter's situation. I looked over at my wife; knowing that with closed eyes, she was probably trying to regain her bearings.

"Ready?" I asked in a quiet whisper. She nodded. I opened the door and Sara followed me into the silent and dimly lit room. The bed was in the middle of the room, flanked by two bedside tables and a chair. On the left was a large window and right under the window a modest sized couch; the bathroom was to the right upon entering. At our arrival, the nurse stood up and made her way outside the room.

Sara crept towards Jessie's bedside and pulled the blanket over her shoulders, while her other hand grasped the girl's hands. I too, made my way beside Sara and leaned over to place a kiss on Jessie's forehead. I was careful not to wake her, especially after everything she has gone through today. Both of us were still, moments passing as we kept on staring at the little girl - watching her chest rise and fall.

The door slowly opened and a nurse walked in, careful with her actions, knowing not to disturb the resting child.

"Dr. Redken wants to see you in his office," she whispered.

Sara and I look at each other, neither one of us wanting to leave our daughter's side.

"I think you both should go. I can stay here and watch her," the nurse suggested. I smiled gratefully at the nurse and took Sara by the hand, guiding her towards the doctor's office at the other end of the hallway.

Sara was hesitant to leave; holding on to her child's hand until I gently pulled her hand away, leading her towards the door.

~*~

"Dr. Redken?" I called out, while I knocked on the door.

I received a muffled response, and both Sara and I slowly made our way into the doctor's office. Unlike the rest of the floor, his office was painted a dark shade of red, a contrast to the light mint green color of the hallways.

"Hello. Please, have a seat," the doctor greeted. Together, we sat side by side on the couch.

'Oh, God, this doesn't sound good,' I thought while I heard Sara exhale.

"This is certainly difficult for me to say," the doctor began.

'Oh, this is not good,' I thought again.

"But-- Okay, um, how about you, um... Can you tell me about any hereditary diseases in your families?" the doctor stammered, struggling with his words but also trying to take a more professional tone.

"Uh..." Sara began, confused by the doctor's question.

"Well, I just wanted to know about the history behind Jessica. Particularly her health and her genetics," the doctor replied. There was an awkward pause, while I leaned closer and sat at the edge of his seat.

"Jessie is-" I started to say. The doctor leaned forward a little, eagerly waiting for the sentence's conclusion.

"We adopted Jessie when she was three years old," Sara concluded for me. The doctor's head leaned back a little, taking in the situation's new development.

"Why do you ask? What's wrong?" Sara asked, panicked. The doctor looked at us and inhaled heavily. "I thought it was just an asthma attack," she continued.

"Mrs. Stokes-" the doctor began.

"Sidle," Sara corrected. She always insisted that people addressing her properly, after all, I agreed to let her keep her last name.

"Upon reviewing the test results from your daughter..." He paused.

"Out with it!" Sara nearly yelled, her voice rising with impatience.

"Your daughter's condition has proved to be more complicated than just a respiratory problem," the doctor answered.

My heart had stopped at the instant; I glanced at my wife's pale face and I place my hand on top of hers. "Complicated?" I managed to ask.

"After reviewing some results from tests taken earlier, we found a heart abnormality," the doctor answered, calmly, while trying to break the news softly. "It's partially a genetic problem, but in Jessie's case, her asthma attacks, which were caused by over exertion of the heart and lungs, caused a chain of reactions. From airway constriction, low oxygen levels, to her heart pumping insufficient amounts of blood to the body..." He took a moment, trying to figure out how to say what it was that he needed to say, but instead, settled on a question. "And based on her medical records, she suffers a lot of asthma attacks, usually due to over exertion, am I correct?"

"Yes, that's true," Sara concurred, still unable to discern the doctor's message.

"May I ask what Jessica was doing before she had an attack?" the doctor asked. Sara turned to face me and glared coldly.

I swallowed hard, "we were at the park for about thirty minutes. I was on the phone with my niece, while Jessie ran around and played with the other kids," I admitted.

"For thirty minutes?" Sara asked, astonished with a hint of intrigue in her tone.

"Yeah, she was just playing - being a kid," I continued.

"Being a kid? You know that she's not supposed to participate in prolonged cardiovascular activities," Sara commented, then continued, "But if you paid any attention, you would have known that."

"I was paying attention. Prolonged cardiovascular activities? Sara, she was just playing with the other children!" I yelled.

"You should have known!" Sara huffed.

"So you know about Jessica's heart problems-" the doctor interrupted.

"That's rich, coming from you. Telling me what I should know, when you yourself haven't got the faintest idea about what she's gone through!" I shot back.

'The nerve to say that to me, hypocrite, she hasn't the faintest clue about Jessie,' I contemplated.

"I do pay attention." Sara's expression had changed; her face was turning a deeper shade of red.



"You're clueless! You didn't even ask me why she was in the park instead of in school today!" I rebuked.

Sara cursed herself. 'What day was it?'

"It's Wednesday, Sara," I reminded her. She looked back at me, speechless. "I let her stay home today! Do you know why?"

Sara didn't flinch.

"Because she couldn't stop crying, she was looking for you - asking for her mother," I said, exasperated. "And let me ask you another question, since you seem to 'pay attention' - what's her favorite color?"

"I'm sorry?" Sara asked, astounded by my question.

"It's a simple question. What's Jessie's favorite color?"

"Green!" Sara replied angrily.

I blinked, "blue. It reminds her of the ocean, and our vacation in San Francisco," I corrected.

I could see the wheels in Sara's mind, churning away. Thinking of a comeback, and I was waited, what was she going to say? I was disturbed by how disconnected we, as a family have been. I was angry that she didn't know our daughter's favorite color; but deep inside I was bitter that we had degenerated into endless bickering. I resented this moment, I resented today, I resented myself, and at this point, I resented everything about Sara as well. If she didn't work so hard, maybe this could have worked out, and now, our daughter was ill. 'How can she be so selfish?' I asked myself. It physically pained me to think about what had occurred during our marriage, between the miscarriage, the adoption, and all the other stuff; everything was just falling apart.

"Oh God, why didn't we see this before?" Sara asked tearfully and breaking the silence. It appeared that the silence had softened her tone of voice, forcing her to focus on the doctor's words.

"Well, there are no visible symptoms, and even I had to double check the results to make sure," Redken said. "I'll ask again, since you know about Jessica's respiratory problem, were you aware of her current condition?"

"Well, we were given a medical report upon her adoption, and it was just mentioned that she suffered from asthma attacks," I answered.

"And well, after several asthma attacks due to intense cardiovascular activities, her doctor recommended keeping her way from vigorous activities," Sara added.

The doctor paused for a moment, bringing his hand to massage the bridge of his nose, looking as if he tried to formulate his next sentence.

"As I said, her asthma attack further complicated the situation," the doctor finally said. He then handed them a folder of the results from the day's prior tests. Sara was the first to take a glance at it; she took note of the ECG printout, the blood sample results, as well as various other results. I also took interest in processing what I could from the folder's pages of results and written reports from physicians. We looked up as the doctor proceeded to place a chest x-ray onto the lightbox; he continued to explain his findings and explained to us the continuous series of tests that are still being processed.

"Treatment?" Sara asked.

The doctor paused and sat at the edge of his desk, silent, without an answer.

"Surgery?" I asked.

The doctor was silent, still trying to find the best words to answer the question.

"Transplants?" I questioned, holding my breath.

Silence.

Sara and I braced ourselves for the doctor's reply.

"I'm sorry," the doctor began. "But, Jessie's condition cannot be treated with common procedures," the doctor added, his own heart somewhat in a standstill.

"Experimental procedures?" I whispered.

"We'll have to see, but usually, at this stage, Jessie's prognosis is uncertain. The odds are 50/50. Over the years, her heart has slowly and gradually deteriorated, probably since birth." The doctor managed to explain the cold facts, fighting the urge to weep as he saw tears threatening to cascade down Sara's face.

"From birth-- How--?" Were the only words she could utter.

The doctor sighed, "at this point, we are still running tests to determine how far her heart has deteriorated. I must be honest with you in saying that there was no way of knowing about your daughter's condition. The disease usually does not exhibit any physical or visual symptoms; they would only come up during specified studies of the chest cavity."

"So, you're telling us that our daughter is on her deathbed?" Sara asked, with tears still trailing down her pale face.



"No, I don't believe you, she was fine this morning. There must be something, some new procedure," I lashed out, attempting to rationalize the situation. 'This isn't happening,' I thought. Inhaling deeply while I buried my face between my palms in hopes to mask my frustration. At this point, many thoughts ran unbridled - begging to be harnessed. I was painfully aware of the situation but to this point, I could not accept the cards that fate has dealt us.

The doctor said nothing.

Tears flowed down Sara's face, with almost all hope abandoning her. We looked at each other, trying to share each other's pain. We felt so helpless, sitting her in this office, knowing that just down the hall, our daughter was slowly slipping away.

"What should we do now?" Sara asked calmly.

"Just be her parents - be there for her," the doctor sighed.

~*~

With hearts shattered and in a state of disbelief, we slowly walked out of Dr. Redken's office and headed towards Jessie's room. The hallway's silence wrapping its arms around us as the world slowly subsided, together, we both walked in a daze.

"I should call my family. I'll call your parents too, if you'd like," I whispered.

She nodded and we both paused before proceeding further down the hallway.

"Grissom and Catherine might want to know too," Sara answered quietly, still in a state of shock.

"I'll call the lab," I agreed.

I reached my hand out to hold Sara's, but she had already turned and headed further down the hallway, leaving me in the middle of the empty corridor.

~*~

The phone rang, once, twice. "Hello?" A voice answered.

"Hi mom, it's Nick," I answered. "I have some news," I continued. The sound through the receiver fell silent, I waited for my mother to sit, as I had requested. Slowly, I proceeded to tell her about Jessie's condition, at the same time, trying hard not to break down in tears myself.

"We'll pack and be there tomorrow," she replied. "Hang tight."

"No mom, it's all right, you don't have to come. We'll call you when we need you," I protested.

"Nicky," she began. But my silence made her reconsider. "Alright, call us when you have more news. Just remember, one call and we're on the first plane out of here," she commanded.

"Yes ma'am. Bye," I said softly.

I continued to contact our close family, bearing the bad news and each time fighting hard to sound strong. Sara's parents were chest fallen, almost hysterical at my revelation. Again, I pleaded with them not to fly in, this was something that Sara, and I had to discuss. Finally, the call to the lab was the hardest I had to make. The first person I spoke to was Greg, who was as always - happy, but tonight, his shift turned gloomy. Next, I called Catherine, who was in Grissom's office. I could tell by the sharp pauses in her sentences that she was in tears; devastated was a more appropriate word. I refused to talk to Grissom, instead instructing Catherine to deliver the message. Lastly, there was Warrick and Mia; out of the two, I decided to call Warrick, he, after all shared a close bond with Jessie, a second father to be exact. Again, speechless, both of us shared the heavy silence, although not in tears, I knew of his deep concern and quiet emotion. I debated on contacting Mia, she was a very 'close' friend after all, but instead, I decided to leave her a voice message at her house. 'Chicken,' I chided myself, but I was aware that this was not the time to sort things out, to spark another argument with Sara.

~*~

I stood by the door for only a few moments, only to witness tears falling down Sara's cheeks. 'If only we can go back to the way we were,' I thought longingly and mournfully.

"If only it were that simple," I whispered.

I slowly opened the door and shut it silently behind me, I paused,

"Nick, how did we end up this way?" Sara asked.

*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*

A/N – Did you catch that? For those of you who are still reading this far into the story and were not put off by the 'confusion' – congratulations. Patience is a virtue. Are you beginning to see the big picture? *Think, big!* Look back at the other chapters if need be. Once you've processed everything, you can breathe a sigh of relief, because the most confusing part is over. Promise. I've never lead you astray. So, please read on and tell me what you think. Or should I end it here? It's as good as point as any to stop. – oceanwave

PS. Thank you so much to my betas Kelly, Steff, and Karen. Y'all rock! It's been a rollercoaster ride; I hope y'all enjoyed picking through my maze of grammatical errors, continuity flaws, and 'drama.'