Disclaimer: Don't own them, and if somehow I've inherited them, I'd share them with all of you.

Author's Notes: I'm sorry if this isn't as good as you'd expect it to be, it's been a very, very rough day, although I knew if I didn't write it now, I would abandon it forever.

As many know, I work as an assistant in the ME's office, and I've always prided myself on being a strong person, physically, emotionally, in all aspects. My boss even complimented me in front of the whole staff on my resilient stomach during a decomp last week. Well, I have now stooped to the level of all of my coworkers, which I think they'll forever remind me of. Boss had to leave for a deposition, and tells me I'm to collect stomach contents and process them, look for anything unusual, run anything I do find. No problem, right? I mean, blood and guts don't bother me. Humph. I think it was the nastiest thing I have ever done. I had to beg Sam, who is the other assistant, to take over because I couldn't do it without gagging. I was so embarrassed, I wanted to die. So, of course, Sam teased me ALL day. 5:00 comes, and my lovely boss has us all stay late for our weekly team meeting (which is usually on Tuesday), where Sam told EVERYONE about what happened, and I was criticized for lack of professionalism. Which means since boss knows that's my weakness, he'll be forcing me to do it over and over again until it doesn't bother me. I hate my job. Why couldn't I have worked at Burger King?

Replies will cheer me up. I need it, trust me. Besides, I like to know if people are still reading...see threat at end of chapter...

Jenny

Six:

Catherine pulled up at her new crime scene, stifling a yawn as she pulled her kit out of her Tahoe. She was so tired, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stay alert enough to focus on any case at the moment.

Seeing Greg sitting in the back of an ambulance, however, jolted her with enough adrenaline to move to the officers and paramedics, her stomach churning at the vast amount of blood and glass on the pavement.

"Oh Catherine, thank God you're here." Greg said desperately, pulling away from the paramedic who was trying to clean a deep gash on Greg's forehead. "You've got to take me to see Sara, tell them I've fine, I've got to go."

Catherine's face paled, and she was ushered by a nearby paramedic to sit beside Greg, "Sara?"

"Cath, you've got to tell them I'm okay, we need to go see her." The desperation in his voice, along with the tears in his eyes, made Catherine's heart skip a few beats.

There's no way there could be a car accident. Not Sara and Greg, hadn't they been through enough already? And if Sara was involved, where was she now? The only logical answer was the hospital, which made Catherine's body tense with worry. A hit-and-run meant that whoever had struck them had left the scene, which ruled out the blood on the pavement being theirs. Greg's injuries, while bleeding and looking bad enough to cause concern, couldn't have contributed that much blood to the scene.

"Greg, sweetie, what happened?" Catherine asked soothingly, trying to calm Greg down enough to get clear answers from him, as well as distracting him so the paramedic sound finish cleaning and stitching Greg's wounds.

Greg's voice was clouded with emotion as he struggled to hold back his tears. He looked up at Catherine with innocent eyes, "We went out to dinner...Gris, he said we could. We were talking and we got into an argument and she started to leave. I..I followed her and we...we got into it again. And...and she started to go towards the parking garage, and...and the car, it...it came out of nowhere." His shoulders shook with sobs as his eyes met Catherine's, "I..I think it was blue, a sporty car. I..I tried to...I tried to save her Cath, I swear. I tried to save her."

"I know you did, sweetie." Catherine said soothingly, squeezing his hand tightly, "Tell me more."

"I think I called out her name," He sniffed loudly, "I probably shouldn't have. If I hadn't, she...she may have finished crossing the street. I...I know she didn't see the car, I..I wanted to make sure she didn't get hit. I, oh, Cath, I messed up. She...she slowed down and turned to me, and I..I tried to push her out of the way, but...but I wasn't fast enough."

Catherine sighed, shaking her head, "Greg, there was nothing you can do. It was an accident, you were trying to help her. It's not your fault." She winced at the same time Greg did as the paramedic began to suture his cut, and she squeezed his hands tightly, "Did you see anything else about the car?"

"It was a two-door, I think." Greg said, trying to remember, but only coming back with fuzzy details, "I was watching Sara, the car barely touched me, just enough to knock me back and make me hit my head on the sidewalk." He shuddered, his face paling slightly, "She was halfway turned to me when the car hit her. When it made impact, she fell over the hood and up against the windshield. The car swerved into the other lane and she slid off the hood and hit the pavement on the other side. She didn't lose consciousness until after she was on the ground."

Catherine closed her eyes briefly, horrible flashbacks of the car accident she and Sara had been in the previous year flashing through her mind in a rapid montage, Sara had been a fighter then, just as she obviously had been tonight. At least tonight it wasn't raining, and if her team was half as good as she knew they were, they'd be able to find some sort of reasoning for this accident.

Catherine squeezed Greg's hands again, resisting the urge to give him a hug and a big kiss on the forehead, like she did Lindsey when she was younger and hurt herself. She stood, slightly woozy but able to keep it under control, and said softly, "I'm going to see what evidence I can gather. Let the medics take care you, the sooner you cooperate, the sooner you can go see Sara."

Catherine left Greg, still quietly crying, and walked over to the taped off section of the street, pulling out her camera to take a few snapshots. She wasn't quite sure what was worse, the decomp she had been working with Warrick on, or having to work this case, knowing her best friend, other than her boyfriend, was in a hospital somewhere, unaware of her condition.

She turned to the officer, who was trying to keep onlookers to a minimum, "What do you know?"

"Witnesses confirm CSI Sanders's story that the vehicle was a dark blue car, one witness says it looked like an Eclipse, another says it resembled a Mustang. CSI Sidle was found near the westbound parking garage entrance, the paramedics tried not to disturb any evidence, but they needed to get her out of here ASAP, so I don't know what all they interfered with. CSI Sanders was thrown back on the opposite side of the street, against the curb in the eastbound lane. Witness called in the report, a Danielle Phillips. She's speaking to Officer Bono right now, I'll let you speak to her before releasing her. CSI Sidle was taken to Desert Palm, in critical condition. The 911 call indicated a fatality, but luckily it didn't turn out to be quite so serious. I have the names of the paramedics who were dispatched here, in case you need to speak with them. We've got an APB out for a dark blue sports car with a busted windshield and front end. Officer Bono has a call in to the owners of the Hotel Audubon, the owners of the parking garage, to see if their video surveillance picked up anything."

Catherine nodded grimly, turning her attention back to the scene. With a soft groan, she began to pick up pieces of glass and debris, wishing she was sitting in the waiting area of the hospital instead of processing her coworker's, no, her friend's crime scene.

With a loud curse, she grabbed her cell phone, realizing she had forgotten to inform their boss of the current situation.

"Grissom."

Catherine sighed sadly, "Gil, it's Catherine. I'm at the hit-and-run, and--"

"Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something important, and I know whatever it is, you can handle it."

The words left Catherine's mouth before she was able to figure out a way to cushion them, "No, it can't wait. Sara and Greg were hit by a car tonight, and Sara was rushed to the hospital."

There was a brief moment of silence, and after calling Grissom's name a few times, Catherine was tempted to phone Judy in reception and have her to check on the older CSI. Finally, she got a response.

"I'm on my way. Call Warrick and as soon as he's done at his scene, he can meet me at the hospital."

Catherine hung up the phone and dialed Warrick, her voice shaking as the reality of the situation began to sink in. People, as a group, have blood to spare. There's a reserve in case you cut yourself, in case you have the urge to donate, in case of emergencies, similar to the backup weapon system most police officials use. When a cop is on duty, and something happens to his weapon, he has a spare to cover his back. A person could only lose so much blood before the pressure in their veins begins to drop, before their organs stop functioning like they should, before they end up another cold, lifeless body on a stainless steel table.

"Warrick, there was an accident...Sara and Greg were hit by a car...Greg's okay, a little banged up, I think they're going to take him to Desert Palm to check him out. Sara's already been taken, I don't know how she is or anything, but Grissom says to meet us down there when you're done at the decomp." Catherine said shakily, fighting the tears that threatened to overflow as she repeated the situation. She wasn't going to allow herself to cry, she wasn't Sara's friend right now, she was the CSI who was going to put the person responsible in jail.

She knew her thoughts were in vain. No matter how hard she tried to detach herself, she knew she'd be unable. This was Sara she was thinking about. Practically part of her family, one of her closest friends, the woman she envisioned as her maid of honor when she imagined her wedding to Warrick. Greg, the man she had watched morph from a silly lab tech to a damn good CSI. They had been plowed down by some idiot in a car, and instead of owning up for their actions, that idiot had ran away like a coward.

Catherine pulled out a bindle and, using her forceps, slid shards of a broken headlight into the envelope, a frown crossing her face. It seemed so pointless right now, although she wanted to catch the creep who did this to Sara, she wanted to know what was going on. She hated the worried feeling of not knowing anything, she longed for answers. This was going to have to move faster, at least, she was. Forcing the fatigue away from her body, she quickened her pace, keeping her attention focused on the task in front of her, knowing the sooner she concentrated on the evidence, the sooner she could head towards Desert Palm.


Nick sat alone in his parent's living room, cradling his new niece in his arms, oblivious to the laughter and conversation flowing out of the dining room, where his parents and sister were finishing the meal Justine's crying had interrupted.

He had been more than happy to pick up his niece and cradle her in his arms, her innocence diffusing all of his anger instantly, her bright blue eyes making his pain melt away.

How could something so perfect come from someone so terrible? Karen was a sweetheart, but Travis had been a devil in disguise. He could see the resemblance from Justine to her father, even at her young age, although she definitely favored her mother. Thank God for small favors. Justine would be a reminder of Travis for the rest of Karen's life, but at least if she didn't look like him, it wouldn't hurt so badly. At least, that's what he liked to tell himself. He couldn't stand the idea of his sister being miserable forever because of her scumbag husband.

He smiled down at Justine, whose eyes were closing more and more by the second, and he happily sighed. She was so innocent, so pure, so beautiful. It was breathtaking and marvelous how something so perfect could come from another human being. She didn't know of the awful things the world had in store for her, all she knew was that there were people who loved her and were going to take care of her until she was able to care for herself.

He had the unfortunate job of dealing with the inhumane beings the world housed, which only made this moment more special, and more heartbreaking. He knew that he would die to protect this tiny little girl, and he was filled with an unexplainable sense of peace looking down over her, but as the realization that she'd have to grow up living in this world, filled with crooked people with crooked values and morals, his chest began to tighten in panic. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her, his love for her was too strong to fathom any of the nightmares he saw daily happening to this precious child.

It was moments like these he longed for a family. Someone to feel this way about, someone to share his pain with, someone to create a new life with him and help him get through all of his inner demons, someone to share the happiness of just being alive with.

He knew it would be hard. People who didn't see death every day didn't appreciate life as much as the people he worked with. If you don't know what you could be enduring, you can't appreciate the little you may have. As the newborn fell asleep, Nick made the decision to seek a meaningful relationship once he returned home. He had wasted too much time pining over what he couldn't have, focusing on his career when he should have been planning a family, and taking life for granted. It was time to focus on his relationships, rebuild the friendships that had started to fray since he started obsessing over Jessica.

How could a little baby make him realize so much? He was so mesmerized by his niece that he didn't hear the phone ring, and it took his mother shaking his arm for him to jolt back to reality, his sappy smile fading slightly as he remembered what the real world had in store for him.

"Nicky, telephone. It's a Warrick Brown from work. I tried to take a message, since you really can't do much about work from here anyway, but he insisted that he needed to talk to you." She took the baby from him, and Nick realized how cold his arms felt without her.

Sighing, he held the phone to his ear, "Hello."

"Nicky, my man, you need to come home."

Rolling his eyes, Nick replied, "Warrick, I'm coming home in a few days. Whatever it is can wait until I get back. I'm sure you guys can survive without me for a few days, can't you? How did you even get my parent's number?" It was the long pause that caused Nick to worry, "Warrick?"

"Man, I don't know how to tell you this...Sara and Greg were in an accident tonight, they were hit by a car. Greg's okay, but Sara's in pretty bad shape..."

Nick's heart fell into his stomach, and he had to force himself to remember to breathe, "Hit by a car? What? How? When? Who? How is she? Who's working the case? What hospital is she in?" The questions poured out fast, but Nick had to keep talking, because if he stopped talking, the questions he was asking would start to sink in, and he'd start to realize the severity of the situation. He was certain that if he had to think about Sara dying, really think about it, he'd vomit all over his mother's beautiful imported rug, and that wasn't going to happen if he valued his life.

He found himself glad he had been sitting, because if standing, he would have fallen. He also found himself glad his mother had taken Justine, because at the moment, his body was numb and he wasn't sure if he would have been able to keep hold of the baby. He took a few deep breaths, reminding himself he had to breath, "I'll be on the first flight back."

"Nicky, just hurry. It's not looking too good right now. They took her back for surgery as soon as she came in, internal bleeding, a possible collapsed lung, broken ribs, broken arm, dislocated shoulder, torn ligaments and tendons in her knee, concussion, the works, and that's just from their initial diagnosis. We're still waiting on the doctor to tell us more after her surgery...they don't know how serious the damage was, we may lose her. I'll explain what happened when you get here. I'm sorry to bother you at your parent's house, I knew you'd want to know."

Nick felt a wave of panic wash through him, and he hastily said, "Thanks 'Rick, I'll be home as soon as I can. Keep me posted, and if you see her before I do, tell her I'm thinking of her and I'm on my way. She's going to make it, she's a fighter."

He hung up the phone, nearly knocking his mother down as he stood up quickly, the worry evident in his voice, "I've got to get back to Vegas, my friend Sara was in an accident and it doesn't look good."

"Honey, you can't just rush to the airport, you need to make reservations and pack your things. Rushing off in a panic won't help your friend."

Nick turned to his mother, panic mixed with tears in his eyes, "Mom, you don't understand. These people are my family, too. The family that's always there for me, no matter what, day or night, 24/7. Sara needs me, I have to go, even if it means renting a car and driving home, even if it means walking back to Nevada."

"Just go." she replied, unshed tears in her eyes, remembering the day when Nick used to have such passion for his blood family, back in the times where their problems seemed so much smaller and so much more insignificant. As happy as she was for him to have such intense feelings and belonging with his friends and coworkers, to know he was happy and taken care of in his new home, her heart ached as she realized her baby was now all grown up, fighting adult battles, being a real man. She touched his arm gently as he passed, giving him a smile through her tears, "Nicky, take your father's credit card and charge your flight on it. Buy yourself some dinner and your friend some pretty flowers."

Nick took the credit card, although he was sure he wasn't going to use it, and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek as he walked towards the hallway, wanting to do nothing more than grab his clothes and get home. His mother's voice stopped them as he reached the bottom stair, "Nicky, let us know how she is. Anyone you care about, we care about too. Be careful, okay?"

His first response was to snap at her about how he's a grown man and could take care of himself, but seeing her worried expression, and the sleeping baby in her arms, his burst of irritation deflated and he sighed, "I will Mom, thanks."

As he raced up the stairs, two at a time, all he could think about was how worried he was about Sara, praying all the while that she was alright.


Catherine leaned her head against Warrick's shoulder, her eyes drooping closed for a moment before she forced herself awake again. She was so exhausted, although she wasn't about to give in to her fatigue until she heard more about Sara's condition. Until then, she was settling with resting her head against Warrick, letting her eyes shut just long enough for her body to calm down.

If the tired feeling wasn't bad enough, she had started feeling sick again not too long after arriving at the hospital, and she was struggling to hide the fact that her stomach was doing cartwheels, her head throbbing painfully. She wished she knew what was wrong with her, that way she could take some pills and move on, but deep inside, she knew, even though she didn't want to admit it.

She forced her eyes open again, sleepily taking a cup of coffee from Grissom, who had taken to pacing the halls in worry, his normally stony face softened with fear. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, she knew it was a mistake. Forcing the cup into Warrick's hand, she fled from the waiting area and into the bathroom, flinging herself into the first stall and retching.

She hadn't eaten much, so it didn't take long for her stomach to empty, leaving her feeling worse than before. She staggered to the sink in a haze, splashing water on her face in hopes of waking her up, or at least helping her brain wake up, but it was no avail. She had been living off of 4 hours of sleep a day for too many years to count, but suddenly it just wasn't enough anymore.

She dreaded going back into the waiting area, because Warrick and Grissom would insist she go home, which was the last place she wanted to be. She didn't care how tired she was, she didn't care how nauseous she was, how achy she was, all she cared about was the girl in the operating room, the last of the team she had become friends with, the woman she had so tightly bonded with over the last year. They had been through a lot together, and she'd be damned if she left without knowing if Sara would even pull through.

The door opened, and even though Catherine didn't look up, she knew it was Warrick by the electricity in the air.

"I'm pregnant." She said in a cold voice, so unlike the tone she normally used, the one she saved for moments like this, when she was afraid of losing it in front of everyone. She held her breath, waiting for his response, knowing it was a 50/50 shot whether he'd be happy or upset. Heaven knows, she had been going back and forth on her reaction ever since she started to suspect.

Warrick was silent, though, and she continued without looking at him, "I haven't taken a test, but I know. I'm tired, I'm throwing up, I'm sore, I'm irritable, I'm emotional, I'm dizzy and disoriented."

She turned around to look at him, only to see the tears in her eyes matched the ones in his. He held out his arms and she turned to meet his embrace, both of them sinking to the floor together as she began to sob, her outburst causing a few of his own tears to escape. For the next hour, their world only revolved around the two of them as they sat on the cold tile floor, bodies pressed against each other, their tears turning slowly into a silent embrace.

This was the same position Grissom found them in when he came to retrieve them for the doctor's report. The three walked back into the waiting room, each holding their breath and waiting to hear the words they so longed to hear from Sara's surgeon.

TBC, if you nice people encourage me with replies. Hmmm...would a threat work? I am holding Sara's life in the balance, might I add.