This time, Grissom's dreams did not feature Sara, but whilst the pain of reliving her death over and over was not present, a new frustration was. In his mind he was sitting in the lab. He was trying to analyse some evidence but all he could hear was a beeping. It continued steadily, distracting him and preventing him from focusing on the delicate work he needed to do. He looked around but could not trace the sound. He attempted to focus on his work but there was no way he could concentrate. He felt his anger build as the sound continued, an irritating background noise which was slowly driving him mad. As blood surged through his body he stood up and shouted with all his might.
"WON'T YOU JUST SHUT UP!"
And it did. Just like that, the noise stopped. But now, Grissom felt something was missing.It were as if the sound, for all the irritation it caused, was an essential addition to the situation. Something wasn't right.
He felt himself returning to the hospital. The lab faded, and the clinical bright whiteness of Sara's room came into focus. There was still no beeping, and Grissom tried to put a finger on why he was missing it so. And then it occurred to him. A moment of panic flooded his body as he glanced at Sara's heart monitor and saw a straight line.
"Sara!"
He pressed the panic call button and stood, staring at her body. It was just like back in the house. He had wasted time without taking action and now Sara's chest was, once again, still.
All of a sudden he was pushed back from the bed as doctors and nurses flooded the room. They removed the pillows so that Sara was lying flat on the bed.
"She's in cardiac arrest. Start chest compressions."
The calmness of the doctor's voice mirrored Grissom's feelings. As he watched the scene it was as though he was not actually there. He was seeing it, but through somebody else's eyes. As the nurse who had spoken to him earlier guided him out the door saying something like, "need space…wait outside…don't worry," Grissom did not put up any resistance. It was not until he was in the relative's room down the corridor that he realised what he had just witnessed.
Sara could be dead, and he had just watched her demise without even speaking.
He rushed out the door, his senses returning to him, and ran down the corridor. But Sara's room was empty. The bed had gone. Unsure of what to do next, Grissom headed back up the corridor, searching for the nearest reception to find out what was going on, and bumped straight into Catherine.
"Hey there, dozy! You should pay more attention to where you're going!"
Catherine's relaxed, joking greeting was totally out of place, and she soon realised it as she viewed Grissom's ashen face. Realising he was in danger of falling to the ground there and then, she guided him into the relative's room without asking any questions and waited a few moments for him to come to his senses.
"Alright? Are you sure you don't want to sit down, or get a drink or something?"
"No, I'm fine, I have to go-"
Catherine did not have to say anything; the look in her eyes stopped Grissom mid-sentence. He was in no state to argue. He knew he was not going anywhere until he had explained.
"It's Sara."
"Well, duh – we brought her here, remember."
"She woke up."
"Well, that's fantastic! The doctors reckoned it could be days! I told you she was a fighter. But then again, we all knew that."
"Then she fell back to sleep."
"Well, the poor girl probably needed her rest, after what she's been through." Catherine was beginning to sense that there was a lot, lot more Grissom had to tell her. He wasn't looking like someone had just walked over his grave because Sara had fallen asleep. But she decided not to hurry him. He could tell her in his own sweet time. Lord knows, if it was bad news she could wait a lifetime to hear it.
"And then I fell asleep." Silence. "And I heard beeping. And I told it to shut up. And it did. And I killed Sara."
"What?" Catherine was deeply confused by Grissom's short bursts of information.
"I killed her, Cath, it's all my fault! I had so many opportunities to help her, but I didn't!"
"Sara's dead?" Catherine fell into the armchair behind her. All of a sudden she felt like she had done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. This was the worst possible news; far worse than she had expected.
"Well, yes, I expect. I mean – she – I don't know."
"Did anyone tell you she had died?" Catherine realised she was not going to get clear information without probing.
"No, but-"
"Then she could be fine!" Catherine allowed herself a new lease of hope. "God, Gilbert Grissom – are you trying to give me a heart attack! Look, take a deep breath, and tell me what happened. What actually happened. What you saw."
"I woke up. And her heart monitor had stopped. Like in my dream. I didn't know what to do. I watched." Grissom's mode of short sentences had not disappeared, but at least Catherine felt she was getting truthful knowledge from him; some kind of sense at least. "She had been awake. I spoke to her. But she was scared. She fought. She shouted. She thought I was him. Philip Bowran. She thought I was going to hurt her!" He had begun to cry but Catherine knew better than to intervene. "Then she was murmuring. She never told me. I don't know what she wanted to say." The sense was fading from his words.
"The heart monitor, Gil. It stopped. What then?"
"The doctors came in. And the nurse. Cardiac arrest they said. Chest compressions. The nurse brought me here. I didn't even look. It was like it wasn't me. Like I was watching something on TV. Then I realised. Went to her room. She wasn't there. She's gone."
"Maybe she needed some different treatment. Maybe they took her into another room to recover. Maybe you went into the wrong room! Hell, Gil, there could be a million reasons for that."
With each suggestion Catherine saw Grissom calm down slightly, and begin to resemble his usual self a little more. She couldn't deny the relief she felt. She loved Grissom as a friend, and she could not bear to see him hurting like that, but she really did not know how to deal with him when he had tears streaming down his face. It wasn't that she was surprised how he was reacting – everyone knew he and Sara were made for each other, and when someone you love like that is hurt – well, it didn't bear thinking about. But she had never seen him like this. He was always so composed. And so when he opened his mouth again, and sounded more like Gilbert Grissom, entomologist of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, than Gilbert Grissom, emotional wreck, she was certainly relieved.
"You're right, Catherine. I'm really sorry. But now I really have to go find someone. I need to know where she is. I need to see her."
"Of course, I understand. I'll come with you."
But before they could leave the room, the door swung open. Perfectly timed, a doctor walked in.
They were about to find out everything they needed to know.