Disclaimer: I don't own them, I didn't create them, and I don't profit from them, however, after George's performance last night in the finale, I'd nominate him for an Emmy if I could.

Author's Note: This is a post-ep for "Grave Danger". I just wanted some closure with the team. I wanted to see what might have happened after Nick was taken to the hospital. This is written from Sara's point of view.

Sara's POV:

I just stood there staring as they loaded Nick into the ambulance. Warrick and Catherine jumped in with him and held onto him, perhaps to reassure themselves as much as Nick that he was really out of that God awful hole; that he was going to be ok. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be feeling. After the first twelve hours I think I'd lost track of time. I really didn't want to know how much time had passed or how long he had left to live before we found him. I think I just felt numb; completely numb and exhausted and extremely thankful that I'd remember a comment in that interrogation room that led us to where Nick was buried.

In the corner of my mind someone was saying that they were going to call Nick's parents to meet us at the hospital, I think it was Brass, but I'm just not sure. The images from that live feed are still assaulting my mind. I'm not sure that I could have held it together as long as Nick did, or that I wouldn't have used the gun on myself early on. How he held onto hope that long I'll never know; how he'd held onto the hope that we would do our jobs humbled me. He literally put his life in our hands to find him knowing that the madman who had buried him there had no plan to ever come back for him. And then the fire ants; it was difficult to watch as his face contorted with pain and they crawled all over him, biting, but thankfully they also helped us to figure out where he was. Despite the pain their bites caused, I'm sure that when Nick knows the whole story, he's going to regard those little guys as his little saviors.

I think I hear someone talking before the words register. I glance up and see Grissom looking at me expectantly and I realize I have no idea what he's just said. "I'm sorry?"

"Did you want to drive to the hospital with me?" Grissom looks tired, I can tell that this has all been very hard on him and I think from having watched him, he's realized that he's taken Nick for granted; we've all taken Nick for granted.

"Yeah." I'm not sure why there's a catch in my voice exactly, except that Nick's safe and I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to him. I don't think that I could bear losing him like this and I realize that I don't think that I've ever had a truer friend than Nick Stokes.

I think Grissom can tell that it's finally getting to me. I've held it together pretty well up until now, but the reality that it's all over is finally starting to settle in and I feel a tear slip down my cheek.

A tired smile pulls at the corner of Grissom's mouth. "Sara, Nicky's going to be ok." Despite his relational unavailability, I know that Grissom does care about all of us; I can tell he cares about Nick. I remember him chewing me out for not leaving a house where Warrick and I had found an entire arsenal of explosives because I was trying to remove the door because of the evidence on it, and yet this same man was willing to risk his life in a similar manner to keep Nick calm as they figured out a way to get him out of that plexi-glass coffin without setting off the explosives underneath it. I think we're more alike than either one of us would admit.

"I know." There's that catch in my voice again.

As we walk towards the Denali, I realize that Greg is trailing along with us and he looks utterly shell shocked. He hasn't really allowed himself to show any kind of emotion through this whole thing and I think in some ways he's put an emotional shield around himself as a defense mechanism. It's funny how things come to mind when you least expect it. I can almost hear the words of my counselor telling me exactly the same thing about the way that I work. In many ways my work is a defense mechanism for my entire life.

The drive to the hospital feels unbearably long, and I find myself staring out the window from where I'm sitting in the backseat. I have a vague recollection that Grissom is talking to Greg, trying to reassure him that he did a good job. That in and of itself takes me by surprise; Grissom isn't one to hand out praise so easily, but then I realize that Greg is completely second guessing himself and his skill as a CSI and Grissom is trying to diffuse that.

The words come tumbling out of my mouth before I even process what I'm really saying. "Greg, you held it together and focused when it mattered. It's ok to let yourself lose it now."

He says something about how he yelled at Warrick for kicking a bottle of fluid at him and how he was more concerned with his damn coveralls than the investigation.

Grissom tells him that his behavior is perfectly normal because one of our family was involved.

I think that's when it really hits me. Nick is my family. He's my friend. He's the one person that I know that will tell me what I need to hear, not what I want to hear and he doesn't really care if I get mad at him because he knows that at the end of the day, he's not going to stop being my friend and caring about me. I feel another tear slip down my cheek and I'm thankful that we're finally pulling into the parking lot of Desert Palm Hospital. I've been here more times than I care to remember since I've come to Vegas, the last time I came here when one of our family was hurt, it was Nick then too. I couldn't bring myself to come to the hospital when Greg was burned in the lab explosion, I was hurt too and I wasn't dealing with it very well.

As we walk into the waiting area of the ER my eyes hone in on a couple that can only be Nick's parents. He looks so much like his mother, but I think he gets his tenacity from his father, who is currently stirring up a hornets nest at the nurses' station trying to get in and see his son. Catherine is doing her best to assure him that as soon as the doctors are able, they will let them in to see him.

I don't really know what possess me, but I walk over to Nick's mother and introduce myself. "Mrs. Stokes?"

She glances at me, a slight glimmer of recognition that maybe she remembers seeing me at the lab, but she can't remember.

"I'm Sara Sidle. I work with Nick." There is that damn emotion in my voice again as I lock eyes with this woman that gave Nick life. "He's going to be ok." I don't know if I sound convincing enough to my own ears. I know intellectually that he will be ok, but emotionally I'm not so sure.

"Jillian Stokes." She seems to relax a little and for some reason she instantly trusts me. "We're just so worried. We were told that they might not find him…" Her eyes look slightly haunted. "He's my baby."

For some reason a smile flickers across my face knowing full well that Nick would die of embarrassment if he could hear her talking like this. "They'll let you in to see him pretty soon." I'm not really sure how soon; I want to see him myself to convince myself that we really did find him that he really is going to be ok. In the mean time, Jillian Stokes seems to have taken it upon herself to regale me with stories about Nick's childhood and it seems to be having a therapeutic effect on her. In fact it seems to have a therapeutic effect on her husband too until they are finally allowed to see Nick.

The wait seems so long and I hardly notice when Warrick sinks down in the chair next to me, reaching over and giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "He's doing ok."

I glanced up at Warrick and I can tell he's genuine. He rode with Nick to the hospital and I know that this case was exceptionally hard on him. He and Nick had flipped a coin to see who would take the case that Nick had been abducted from. "We could have lost him, Warrick." I don't think I've showed this much emotion in front of my coworkers ever. But then I have to remind myself, these people are really my family. I care about them, and it's about time I let them care about me.

"But we didn't." Warrick gently reminds me. I know that he's struggling with the whole ordeal and a fleeting thought occurs to me that we're all going to need counseling after this. I wonder if they give bulk discounts.

I glance up and notice that Nick's parents have emerged from the exam room that Nick was in. They look visibly relieved and more relaxed. They begin talking to Grissom and the only thing that seems to filter into my mind is that Nick is going to be kept for observation, the bites from the ants have attacked his system and they want to make sure that he isn't suffering any adverse physical effects from that and the entire ordeal.

It's a while later before I can get in to see him. He looks so damn tired and I do my best to keep myself from tearing up again as I walk over to the chair next to his bed. He glances over and a tired smile tugs at his lips. "Hey, Sar."

I don't think anyone ever really called me that before I moved to Vegas, but somehow Nick started calling me that and it stuck. "Hey, yourself." I'm not sure what possesses me, but I reach over and take his hand in mind, mindful of the IVs. I think I just need to touch him to make sure he's really ok.

There is such a kindness in his eyes as he looks at me and it almost breaks my heart. "Warrick says you knew where to find me." There is truth in the statement, but it was really just a lucky break in a string of lucky breaks when we had almost run out of leads to check.

"It was a team effort…no, a family effort really." I want him to understand that I'm never going to take him for granted ever again. He is family and he needs to know that.

Nick looks into my eyes and I feel like in a way he's searching my soul. "You're a good friend, Sara." There's a slight hitch in his voice. "Thank you." I can tell he's tired.

"I should go so you can rest." I move to stand up, but there's a flash of panic in Nick's eyes as he squeezes my hand.

"Stay for a while…please." His voice wavers as his eyes plead with me.

"Ok, I'll stay." I smile at him and give his hand a reassuring squeeze and then lean over and kiss his cheek before sitting back in the chair.

"Thank you." He doesn't say anything else; I think he just wants to know that someone else is there right now. His eyes slowly close and his breathing evens out to a slow steady rhythm until he's finally asleep. It's then that I know he really is going to be ok.

The End