He treats this as if it is any other case. I'm looking for any opportunity to rush out of the conference room and to the hospital where I should be. There were so many secrets that my coworkers didn't know about. There were so many reasons why I shouldn't have to be the one to help Warrick tear apart a semi, while Sara was in the hospital.

"Nicky, Warrick, be thorough. Let me know if you are going to need a bigger workspace," Grissom said as he stood up from his chair. I wanted so badly to scream at him that I shouldn't be here; that I needed to go. I couldn't; I wasn't sure if this was one of those times when it is okay to break a promise.

"You have to promise me . . . this needs to stay quiet for a little while. Only until we prove that we can maintain a professional working relationship," Sara whispered softly. The afternoon sun made her skin hot against my hand. She self-consciously covered her body from the rest of the world. I was thankful that she shared her body with me; I was thankful that she agreed to have me.

"I promise, Sara; I promise," I whispered as I watched her begin to fall asleep. Her hair was so soft against my skin. I wasn't sure if I could keep this a secret; I was surprised that we had managed to keep this a secret for as long as we had. I didn't care; she was here . . . that was all that mattered.

I stared at my ring finger. I hadn't been careful the other day. We had gone to play volleyball at an outdoor complex. I had forgotten to take my wedding band off. I hadn't noticed that it was still on until I got to work. I quickly stashed it in my wallet . . . right next to the picture of us at our impromptu wedding. I never pictured Sara as a traditional girl; our wedding was right on with my perception. Not everyone could get married in the mountains by a yoga instructor that moonlighted as a justice of the peace. Not everyone could be as natural and untouched as Sara. There was something magical about the mountains and the two mile hike from the main road. It was a journey; it was a journey that Sara invited me to be a part of. I stared at the faint tan line; my wedding band was at home. Sara picked out a simple gold band . . . aureus. She had the word engraved inside the band. When I asked why, she said our life together would be golden.

"Nicky, are you okay?" Grissom asked. I hadn't noticed that everyone else had left the room. I was too lost in my thoughts; thoughts of a much happier time.

"Grissom, I need to leave. I just can't be here," I said as I stood up; my words were incoherent. My thoughts became more and more frantic as I began to wonder what her condition was. I could feel the anxiety rising in my stomach; it was quickly taking over my thoughts.

"Warrick needs your help in the body shop," Grissom said.

"I know, but I need to be with my wife," I replied as I walked quickly to the locker room. I stared at my lock; for the life of me I couldn't think of the combination. I just wanted to lock up my gun and my vest. I wouldn't need those.

"Nicky, your wife?" Grissom asked as he stood in the doorway.

"I need to go see Sara," I replied. I gave up on the locker and began to dial Brass' cell phone number.

"She's your wife?" Grissom asked again.

"She's my wife," I replied as I waited for Brass to pick up his cell phone. I just wanted to know where she was. Brass hadn't told us where Sara was.

"Since when?" Grissom asked.

"Shut up. I need to find out where she is," I yelled at Grissom as Brass answered his phone. Grissom stood still; I don't think he had any idea as to what to say to me. He didn't know what it was like to be married; he didn't know what it was like to be wondering if everything in your life would suddenly fall short of golden.

"Jim, what hospital did they take Sara to?" I asked. Brass was already asking if everything was okay.

"Desert Palm. Stokes, are you okay?" Brass asked. I could hear a cacophony of noise in the background.

"I just need to go see her," I replied.

"Stokes, I'll be at Desert Palms soon," Brass replied. I think he knew. Sara and I updated our human resource paperwork last week. She changed her last name; we both updated our emergency contacts. He must have pulled the paperwork. Brass sounded so sympathetic. I didn't want his sympathy; I just wanted someone to tell me that she was okay.

"Let me drive you," Grissom replied.

The drive was agonizing. I didn't remember most of it. I called her brother. James had been one of our witnesses at the mountain top service. James said that he would be on the next flight to Vegas. He was a starving artist in New York; it would be hours before he got here. I called my sister, Jacquelyn. Jacqui said that she would call mom and dad; she was our other witness. Jacqui was only two years older than me; she was the sibling that I was the closest to. I didn't know who else to call. No one besides Sara was important right now.

Grissom followed me to the information desk in the emergency room. He stood next to me when I was asking where my wife was. Sara 'Sidle' was still in the operating room. I asked the nurse to let me update her paperwork; Sara hadn't changed her name on her driver's license yet. There hadn't been a good reason to. You never think that this is going to happen.

"Would you like me to wait with you?" Grissom asked carefully. I think I nodded. I just didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to be alone if Sara was . . . I willed myself not to think of that. I kept telling myself that Sara was probably bossing some nurse around; she was probably complaining about how uncomfortable the hospital bed was. I tried to tell myself that it couldn't possibly be as bad as Jim had described it.

"Mr. Stokes, I'm Dr. Williams. I took care of Sara when she was in the emergency room," the tall, muscular man said as he sat down in a chair next to me. He straightened his meticulous white coat. His face showed little expression; I couldn't gauge the seriousness of the situation based only on some crow's feet and a persistent wrinkle in his forehead.

"Mr. Stokes, Sara came in with a large amount of abdominal trauma. We need to do several transfusions to stabilize her before she went to the operating room. The surgeons are going to need to remove her spleen, repair a laceration on her liver, and repair a bowel perforation. Besides a collapsed lung, her chest was in relatively good condition," the doctor said. He stopped to take a deep breath. I waited anxiously for him to finish his story. I could hear Grissom sigh with relief.

"She did have lacerations to her face and scalp, but there was no detectable brain damage. That's something we are going to watch for during the next few days," the doctor said; he paused again, "I am concerned about the injury to her shoulder. Her left shoulder dislocated at some point. When she got to the emergency room, it was cool to the touch and flaccid. I am concerned about some nerve and tissue damage. Depending on the duration of ischemia, Sara might not recover function in her arm. Mr. Stokes, do you have any questions for me?"

Her arm. Without function of her arm, she would not be a CSI. Her job was such a large part of her life. If the accident didn't kill her, the loss of a functional arm just might.

"Can I go see her?" I asked numbly.

"I'll have a nurse take you to the surgical waiting area. They can give you some updates there," the doctor said as he walked away. Compared to what Jim described, this seemed much less severe than the twisted bloody mess he encountered on the rural highway. I was thankful, but I was terrified of the possibility of Sara having a head injury. It was her mind that made her so amazing. I always had to remind her that she was so much more than beautiful; Sara was smart and witty. She was loyal and honest. I didn't know what I would do if I lost that part of her.

"Please let everything be golden," I whispered under my breath.