Chapter 2

The Condition

Three Weeks later…

The coughs were barely audible through the various tones the emergency vehicles made as they moved closer to the crime scene. There was already more then enough police patrolling the scene-the sirens had to be from an ambulance. Normally there would be no rush to remove the body from the scene, but its presence was currently causing a ruckus on the crowded streets of downtown Las Vegas. It was a Friday night and the casinos were swamped with tourists and general party-goers looking to have a good time.

"His name is Rick Johansson, he lives in downtown Vegas and works as a stripper for a living. His wallet is full of cash so I'm assuming that robbery was not the killer's intention." Brass continued to inform Grissom and Sara what little information he knew about the victim, however Sara was beginning to unintentionally block out the Captain's words. The feeling of dizziness was starting to overwhelm her senses as her coughs continued to get louder. Grissom began to grow further concerned as Sara walked away from the scene and slightly bent over, trying to clear her throat

"Are you alright?" Grissom asked. Sara could hear the sharp amount of agitation in his voice, she tried to pretend that she was well. She had learned to deal with her condition for two years, she could only assume this spell would stop—eventually.

"I'm fine." Sara managed to exclaim through another hacking cough. It didn't have to take someone with a medical degree to know that Sara was far from "fine".

"You shouldn't be at work if you're sick Sara. You could have called in." Grissom continued to look at Sara with a hint of pain in his eyes as he watched her struggle to breathe. "That's it, I'm calling the paramedics."

"No, it's just a cold Grissom, I'll be fine. See? The coughing has stopped." Sara began to hold her breath which helped suppress her condition for the time being. She set aside her illness once more and tried as hard as she could to focus on the scene in front of her. Rick Johansson was found shot to death outside The Palms only thirty minutes ago. There were no witnesses due to the fact that everyone had been watching a fireworks display celebrating the fourth of July. Technically Sara thought that every night in Vegas was a celebration of some sort, the formalities of the night only added to the already crowded streets. She expected that her shift may be busy, however, she never presumed to be feeling as debilitated as she currently felt.

Grissom gave her one last look of concern before glancing back to the crime scene. That was one mistake he would never forgive himself for. Work always seemed to come first, why didn't he get her the help she needed? Was he that self centered to just walk away when she needed him the most? In all honesty, Sara's condition wasn't Grissom's fault, it was brought on by her own misdeeds. She should have been put on bed rest nearly six months ago, however she would not allow for the truth to set in that easily. If she was treated as a fragile being she would become fragile—at least, that's what Sara perceived.

"Gun shot residue surrounds the wound on his temple. He was shot at close range…" Grissom's voice trailed off yet again, as Sara strained herself to focus. Her body felt as if it were on fire as she began to pace around the crime scene. Grissom finally gave up on processing the evidence and approached her for the final time, he was intent on taking Sara to the hospital. The sweat dripping down her face was a clear indication of a high fever. The night's air had a bitter chill to it; far from making her flushed.

"Are you that weak? What kind of a CSI are you if you can't even process a simple shooting?" Grissom yelled. His infuriated choice of words startled Sara, making her fight the pain that each utterance had caused her.

"I'm sick Grissom, I didn't want to stop working because of it. I'm sorry." Sara cried, now beginning to tremble from her ailments which threatened to take over her body.

"I don't care what you are! Get out your kit and start processing or you're going to be out of a job!" Grissom threw Sara's kit at her, barely missing her head as it landed forcefully to the ground. Her heart lurched at his sudden anger towards her, she was barely able to keep her head up let alone work.

"Why are you acting like this?" Sara cried as she fell to her knees, giving into her weakened state.

Grissom couldn't understand who she was talking to, he didn't have a chance to put a word in before Sara started to talk incoherently. As she began to flare her arms and scream out unrecognizable words, he knew he had to take action. He flipped out his radio as fast as he could and called for the paramedics; labeling his situation as an unknown medical emergency.

As Grissom knelt in front of Sara he realized she didn't even acknowledge his presence as she continued to talk in what seemed like a different language.

"You know I've never loved you. Why do you think I refused your dinner invite?" Grissom snarled as he took off a pair of latex gloves and threw them at her feet.

"Please Grissom, all I need right now is an ambulance." Sara pleaded as her coughing returned.

Grissom threw his gloves at his feet and put his hand on Sara's forehead. She felt blazing hot to the touch, as if he were feeling an element on a stove. He sat on the ground next to her and placed his hands protectively around her body; hoping that his touch would bring her back to a sense of reality.

Brass took photos to document the crime scene which allowed Grissom to tend to Sara. As the ambulance finally came to their aid, he helped the paramedics place Sara on the gurney, never taking his eyes off of her. He insisted that he would ride with her to the hospital, she never put up a fight. Sara didn't even know he was there, she couldn't even feel his slightly calloused hands holding her own in a protective nature. The oxygen mask appeared to stop her coughing and the ice bag on her forehead was an attempt to minorly lower her fever. However, these were just temporary remedies until they reached the hospital.

At the hospital the truth would ooze to the surface, hurting Grissom in more ways than one.