"His condition isn't looking too good, in fact, he's getting worse," a tall doctor told the blonde nurse who was jotting down some notes.

Greg was lying in the hospital bed, tubes being jabbed through his veins and out. An oxygen mask was over his mouth and nose which was hooked up to a machine. At his bedside was a heart monitor. His skin was pale and blotchy, it looked dry.

Out in the waiting reception Ami paced back and forth, she hadn't even been informed or updated about his condition; what made matters worse was that she wasn't able to get hold of any of her work colleagues.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

The time dragged on, the later it got, the more anxious she became. Suddenly her phone began to ring loudly. She quickly flipped it open and brought it to her ear.

"Corelli." She spoke, "Who's speaking?"

"It's Grissom," answered a familiarly warm voice, "I was just given your message…" She heard him breathe in heavily. "Have you heard anything?"

"No, nothing as of yet," she replied, extremely angered.

A nurse interrupted, "Please turn that off."

Ami pulled the phone away for a moment, "I'm sorry, but I'm with LVPD CSI Unit, I must take all calls." The nurse walked away and she brought the phone back to her ear again. "Grissom, I'm sorry about that," she apologized.

"That's fine," her supervisor told her, "Could you just call Catherine or I as soon as you hear any news about his condition?"

"Of course, but I have no idea when that will be," she told him.

"Alright Ami, send him our best wishes," Grissom said, she had never actually heard him sound even the slightest note of worry. "Goodbye."

Flipping the phone shut she clipped it to her belt loop. Becoming rather impatient, she walked over to the receptionists' desk.

"Excuse me, but could you give me any news about a Mr. Greg Sanders?" Ami asked.

The receptionist typed in something on the computer, "Are you family or partner?" she asked.

Ami lowered her head, "N-no, I'm a close friend and work colleague."

"I'm sorry miss, but I can't give you any information about the patient," the nurse informed.

"Damnit," she muttered, "May I ask who is placed down as 'emergency contact'?"

The keys clicked, "A Miss Ami Corelli."

Her eyes widened, she quickly pulled her drivers license out and showed the nurse. "Please may I see him?" she asked.

"The doctors are still doing some tests, moving him to the ICU," the nurse told her.

"ICU; why did they move him there?" she asked with worry.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know any of the details," she apologized, "If you wish to go up, you can talk to the doctors. It's on the second floor."

Ami darted to the stairs; it would be a lot faster for hr than to wait for an elevator. She ran up the stairs and followed the signs to the ICU.

---

After talking to the doctors about his condition she was finally given permission to see him. She wondered for a moment why he was in a room on his own, but she soon found out when she saw him. Her breath choked her. He was a lot worse than when the ambulance was first called for assistance.

Ami knew that she had to call Gil Grissom or Catherine Willows, but she couldn't leave his side just yet; she needed some time with him. She gently wiped away the tears that fell from her eyes.

"I don't know if you can hear me right now, but I really want you to get better," she whispered as she held his hand in her own, "I know you can get through this, you're strong, no matter what anyone says; I know you are." She smiled a little, "Everyone at the lab and department send their love and best wishes, they all miss your loud rock music, and even Grissom says so." She smiled down at him.