A Shoulder to Lean On

Part Five

Notes and disclaimers in part one.

The silence of the AV lab was nothing compared to the silence of the car as Warrick sped towards Desert Palm, alternating between keeping his eyes on the road and on Sara's white face, lips pressed into a thin line. Her hands were joined on her lap as if in prayer, knuckles as white as her face, and when they were stopped at the lights halfway there, he laid his hand over hers for an instant, was shocked at how cold they were.

"It's gonna be ok," he found himself saying, saw her swallow hard.

"No it's not."

Warrick could do say nothing to that, could do nothing but continue driving. He didn't speak again, nor did she, not until they pulled into a parking space at Desert Palm, and it became readily apparent that Sara wasn't going to be able to walk the short space to the entrance. Warrick had to lift her from the car, carry her inside, all the while muttering what he hoped were calming words into her ear. Her arms went around his neck, gripping tightly, and she gave a soft sob when he stepped from the road to the path, his heart wrenching at the sound.

Then they were inside the ER and she was laid on a gurney and taken away from him, and he could do nothing but pace the floor and wait.

Of course, he realised in short order that there was something he could do; call Nick and clue him in on where they were. He knew that the other man was going to have some serious questions for him, knew he wasn't going to get away with this lightly, though it looked that way for a while when Nick answered his phone.

"Hey man, where'd you get to?" he asked, and Warrick sighed, leaning back against the wall.

"Sara wasn't feeling so good," he said simply. "I took her home."

"Home." Warrick could easily picture Nick's face when he responded; tense jaw, raised eyebrows, eyes burning with intensity. He was about to ask Nick to lay off, not to push him right now, but Nick beat him to it. "She ok?"

It wasn't quite the question that Warrick was expecting, a nudge instead of a push, and it caught him flat-footed, forcing him into honesty. "I'm not sure."

If Nick's first question caught him off-guard, the second floored him completely. "How far along is she?"

Warrick literally gaped, was barely able to muster a "What?" and on the other end of the phone, Nick chuckled humourlessly.

"Man, I've got five sisters with nine nieces and nephews. It might have taken me a while, but I recognise the signs." Warrick closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall, banged it once, then twice. "It's Hank's, right? And you found out and she asked you not to say anything." Nick was quite the CSI Warrick noted; he'd put it all together, and he knew it too, continuing with, "Look, you don't have to say anything. Just if she needs anything-"

"We're at the hospital." The words were out before Warrick could stop them, and Nick sounded stunned when he spoke again.

"Where?"

"There's something wrong," Warrick told him quietly.

Nick's voice was soft, dismayed. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Cover us with Grissom for the rest of the shift," was Warrick's suggestion. "This is my night off… I figure Sara can call in later… or I'll do it for her…"

"You got it man. Let me know how she is, ok?"

"Sure." Hanging up the payphone, Warrick ran a hand over his face and went back to his pacing, looking up at the clock every couple of minutes.

He stopped two hours later when a harried looking ER doctor came over to him. "You came in with Sara Sidle?" When Warrick nodded, he continued, "And you're her partner?"

Warrick shook his head, thought too late that that might not have been the best idea. "He's not around anymore," he replied, doing his best to look like he had every right to ask his next question. "I'm a friend… How is she?"

The doctor looked to be wavering between telling Warrick nothing and telling him everything, eventually tipping in the latter direction. "I'm sorry," he said, and Warrick's heart dropped into his shoes. "We did everything we could, but we lost the baby."

"Damn." Warrick's throat felt tight, and he had to swallow hard. That surprised him, because he hadn't known that it meant so much to him. Looking down at the ground, he took a deep breath, cleared his throat. "Sorry… I expected that… but still…" The doctor nodded. "How's Sara? Can I see her?"

The doctor looked over his shoulder, then back at Warrick. "She's going to be fine," he said. "Technically, she could go home, but we'd like to keep her in for observation…"

Warrick chuckled at both the tone of his voice and the look on his face. "Bet that's going over like a lead balloon, huh?"

"You could say that." The doctor glanced over his shoulder again, then looked at his watch. "Look, I'm not supposed to do this… but if you want to see her, talk to her, I'll take you back. You might be able to talk some sense into her."

Again, Warrick chuckled. "You don't know her very well, do you Doc?"

Perhaps wisely, the doctor chose not to comment on that, instead led Warrick back through the ER, pulling aside a curtain at the back of the room. Sara was lying there, the only colour on her face the redness of her eyes, and even from the foot of the bed, Warrick could see tear stains on her cheeks. "Hey," he said, going over to stand beside her, taking one of her hands in both of his, not even thinking about it. "How you doing?"

Her hand was ice in his, and when she looked up at him, she didn't waste any time in making her request. "Take me home," she pleaded, and he sighed, casting a glance at the doctor.

"They say they want to keep you in for a little while," he reminded her, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back. "Maybe you should listen…"

He stopped talking when a single tear escaped her closed lids, tracing a silver path down her cheek, and when she opened her eyes, he saw more ready to fall. He'd never seen Sara cry before, and in the split second that it took for that thought to register with him, he knew that he'd do anything to stop it from happening again. "Please Warrick," she whispered. "Get me out of here."

Sighing, he turned to the doctor. "I'll take her home," he said, and when the doctor opened his mouth to object, Warrick spoke right over him. "I'll stay with her, if she starts feeling worse, we'll come straight back… right?" That last was aimed squarely at Sara, who nodded obediently, and Warrick nodded at the doctor, who was looking more than a little annoyed. "It's ok Doc," he said, Sara's hand still cold in his. "I'll take care of her."

The journey from Desert Palm to Sara's apartment was just as quiet as the journey from the lab to Desert Palms had been, though the end result was a little different. Wheeled out of the hospital, Sara walked from the car to her apartment, though she moved slowly, stiffly, with Warrick's arm securely around her waist. She tried to tell him that she was fine, that he didn't have to support her, but he just glared at her, and she didn't say anything else after that. The stairs were a different matter though; he had to practically carry her up those, and when they got into her apartment, he pushed the door closed behind them with one foot, then lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her over to the couch and setting her down on it. It was, he thought, a measure of how bad she must be feeling that she didn't even protest.

He left her there, moving into the kitchen and pouring her a glass of water, bringing it to her and putting it on the table in front of her, along with the phial of pills that the doctor had pressed into his hand as he left. "Doc said you can take two of these in another couple of hours," he told her. "I'll leave them here…"

"You don't have to stay you know."

Her voice was so quiet that he thought he'd misheard her. "Huh?"

"You don't have to stay." Her voice was weak, but louder, and she looked up at him as she repeated herself, eyes narrowed as if in challenge. "You must have other places to be."

"Sara…" He sighed, because this was Sara Sidle at her worst, the prickly, surly Sara who didn't let anyone near her, the one who'd investigated him, been so cold to him when she thought he was gambling again. He hadn't seen that Sara in a long time, and he knew why she was making a reappearance this time. She was about an inch away from falling apart, and she didn't want to do it in front of him. Which he completely understood, and absolutely respected. He just wasn't going to let her get away with it. "I'm here," he finally told her, squatting beside her, meeting her gaze at eye level. "And I'm staying. So deal with it, ok?" His voice was gentler than his words, and she gave him a watery smile and nod. "You in a lot of pain?" he asked, and she shrugged, even that simple act causing shadows to dart across her eyes.

"No."

It was a small, scared, little-girl voice, and he lifted one eyebrow. "You lying to me?"

The very edges of her lips turned up briefly. "Little bit."

He grinned, shaking his head. "I figured." Standing, he reached down for her. "Come on, let's get you lying down…" He lifted her easily, and once again, she didn't protest, looping her arms around his neck, letting her head fall against his chest, and he carried her easily into her bedroom, laid her down on the bed. She rolled onto her left side, looking in the direction of the window, the bright sunlight streaming down the room, and his first act was to cross to the window, pull them down. Then he returned to her side, helped her off with her shoes, finally pulling up the blanket at the bottom of the bed, covering her with it. Making a face, she pushed it down so that it fell to knee level, and he held up his hands in mock innocence, a stance that made her smile, albeit briefly.

"I'll be right outside," he told her, taking a step towards the door, but still facing her. "If you need me, yell, ok?"

She nodded, and there were more tears in her eyes when she did, and he took that as his cue to leave, because he knew she wouldn't want him to see her like that. He got as far as the door before her voice stopped him. "Warrick?" When he looked back at her, she was still lying on her side, but her head was turned towards him. As he looked, she propped herself up, the better to see him, the act causing a flash of pain to sear across her face. She bit her lip, falling back against the pillows, but before she was lying back down again, he was back in front of her, more worried than ever.

"You ok?" he asked, squatting down in front of her, and she nodded, her eyes filled with tears. He didn't call her on the obvious lie, not when he saw her swallow hard.

"You've been so great," she whispered. "And I know I shouldn't ask… I know it's not…" She closed her eyes, drew in a deep shuddering breath, and he knew what she was going to ask him.

Her eyes flew open when he stood, alarm stamping itself all over her features, replaced instantly by relief when she realised what he was doing; unbuttoning his shirt, stripping down to his undershirt, and throwing the shirt over the chair in the corner as he toed off his shoes. "You'd better not be no bedhog," he groused good-naturedly, walking around to the other side of the bed, and he was rewarded by the tiniest of giggles as he lay down beside her. He was very careful not to touch her, just like he hadn't wanted to touch her that day not so long ago when they'd sat on her couch and she'd told him all about finding out that she was pregnant. Instead, he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, hands joined over his belly, and she lay on her side, her back to him, and he didn't move, not until he heard a distinctive sniffle, and he knew that she was doing what she hadn't let herself do since this whole mess began.

It took him mere seconds to consider his options, and his mind was made up when he heard a second, quieter sniffle. Because this was Sara, because pulling her into his arms was not an option, he reached out carefully with his left hand, laid it gently on her right hip.

For the longest second of his life, she did not move.

Then, without turning, her right hand moved up, gripped on to his tightly, held it there, her freezing fingers entwining with his warm ones, squeezing them hard.

She did not move, nor did she make any more noise.

But minutes later, her breathing was deep and even, her hand still holding his, still resting on her hip.

Minutes later, he was asleep too.

tbc