Disclaimer: I still don't own CSI…Just wait until I win the lottery…
A/N: I need to thank my good friend Goldfish for her help on this chapter. :)
Chapter 3: The Usefulness of Window Treatment
Though Sara had found a vague bit of hope, Greg's statement made her want to cry anyway. She felt so lost and helpless, and even in his darkest hour, Greg was trying to reassure her. She half wondered if he even realized how much blood he had lost already.
Sara suddenly felt betrayed by the world. She had never been prepared for this. No one had warned her that this day would come. She had seen countless corpses, from all walks of life. But she had never expected that it would be someone she knew and cared about.
Suddenly, she mentally kicked herself. He wasn't dead yet, and there was something she could do. There was still hope.
Sara focused back on Greg. He was attempting to examine his wound, but due to its location, he was having to partially sit up, which sent a new wave of pain through his entire body. He gave up on trying to look, and laid back down. He looked up at Sara, and he could see that she was thinking hard. Did she have a plan for getting out of here?
The next thing he knew, Sara was starting to get up from her kneeling position. She lifted one of her hands and moved his own hands nearer to the wound.
"Hold this," she instructed, and before he knew it, she had pushed his hands into place and jumped up.
"What? Where are you going?" He asked as she began running around the kitchen.
She didn't answer, only continued her search for something unknown.
Then she saw it. It was the Holy grail as far as she was concerned. She ran to the window over the sink, and ripped down the curtains. An evil laugh escaped as she began tearing the curtains into two or three inch strips.
Greg stared at her quizzically until she ran back to his side. Then it dawned on him what she was doing.
Sara paused a moment in her haste to ponder exactly how she was going to do this. Then she took two of the strips and folded them together into a thick mass. With it she slid Greg's hands aside and pushed it against the bullet hole. Then she took the remaining strips and wrapped them around to hold the padding in place. She tied the ends and then sat back a moment to admire her work.
Now, how to get him to the Tahoe?
"Can you stand?" She asked. Greg sort of shrugged in response. He wasn't betting on it, but he'd try anyway, just because she asked.
Sara started to pull him to his feet, but alas, his lags gave out and it took every molecule of her being to keep him from crashing back to the floor. She carefully lowered him back down, then she sat back and sighed.
"We could really use a plan B right about now," she muttered.
She glanced into the living room in search of inspiration. She found it, once again, in the form of curtains. Oh, but these were no ordinary curtains. No, these were huge, heavy draperies that had been keeping the Nevada heat out.
She repeated her earlier activity of yanking on the curtains to rip them free of their hanger. However, she was not expecting the curtain to come flying towards her, to drape itself over her head.
Sara stood a moment in her curtain tent, noting how ridiculous this must look and how hilarious it would be, were the situation not so serious.
She pulled the curtain off her head, making her hair fly all over. She took the curtain and spread it out near Greg. Bit by bit, she slid him onto the curtain. Then, she dragged him through the living room and out the front door to the awaiting Tahoe . mentally, she congratulated her resourcefulness, while at the same time reminded herself that they weren't out of the woods yet. She considered the irony of the thought, since there weren't really any trees around.
Once she had dragged Greg to the side of the Tahoe, she opened the back door, and then stopped. How the devil was she going to get him into the back seat?
After a bit of thought, she hauled him to his feet in such a way, that when he started to collapse, he fell onto the seat. Unfortunately, as he fell, he hit his head on the top of the door frame. Sara muttered a string of expletives, not being able to decide on one.
Soon, Sara had Greg maneuvered into the back seat. She picked up the curtain, wadded it up, and stuffed it on the floor beside him. She had a feeling she'd need it again.