Warrick pushed her plate towards her for the fourth or fifth time since they sat down at his dining room table. Sara would pick at the food and then push the plate away from her. Warrick silently shook his head, while Nick pleaded with Sara to eat at least a quarter of the Chinese food they had ordered for her. The men gave up not too long after realizing Sara ate nothing more than a pea pod and a few strands of lo mien noodles. Sara was afraid her stomach would revolt if she dared to eat anymore.

Nick took Sara to Warrick's house after the CT scan. Nick also called Grissom to let him know that Sara spent the afternoon at the doctor's office. He made it very clear to Grissom that she probably wouldn't be in for the next days. Grissom told Nick that it probably wasn't anything than a case of mono or some other viral entity that was invading her body. Nick knew that Grissom liked to minimize things; it was how he coped, but it almost threw Nick into a fit of rage when Grissom didn't at least ask how Sara was doing. Sara rested a tired hand on his arm and asked him not to punish Grissom. Nick wanted to punish someone.

Nick opened the door to Warrick's house with the key that Warrick gave him not too long after the whole Nigel Crane debacle. Sara immediately laid on the couch where the three friends had watched countless movies and where Sara had slept through countless hours of video games. Nick watched as she tried to tune out the rest of the word. He watched her slip back into the place in the corner of her mind. It's where she went to avoid the real world. He wished that she wouldn't go there; he wished that she could talk to him. Ever since childhood, Sara couldn't talk about her pain. It was something Nick could never wrap his mind around.

Nick turned on the television though he wasn't really watching it. He was thinking about her. He was thinking about how his life would change without her in it. Nick had few friends that he let into his personal life; most of his relationships were rather superficial or forced by the bonds of brotherhood and fraternity. Warrick and Sara were the few people that got to know him. Sara knew a side of him that he even hid from Warrick. She knew that he desperately wanted to buy a dog, but he feared that his job would keep him from providing the animal with the appropriate amount of attention. She knew that he cried at the end of Field of Dreams; Sara was sworn to secrecy about that one . . . though Nick swore to God he saw tears running down her face. She was the first real 'girl' friend that he ever had. Sara was the first 'girl' friend that he wanted nothing more than friendship from; it wasn't about trying to have sex with her . . . although, his mother would say the exact opposite. Nick knew it would hurt if she ever left him.

He rested a hand on her ankle. They waited for five hours before the doctor called Sara's cell phone about the scan. Sara asked Nick to answer it. He obediently did as told, although he didn't want to be the one to give her bad news if that was the case.

The news overwhelmed him. He could feel his throat seemingly narrowing and the tears begin to swell in his eyes. The CT scan did not show metastasis. He couldn't imagine news that would make him happier, but the doctor warned that the metastasis might be so small that the scan did not pick them up. Nick chose not to start thinking along that route. He knew Sara would do that; he wanted to be the positive one . . . reassuring her that the situation was bad, but not that bad.

Sara looked nervously around the room as Nick finished up his conversation with her doctor. She knew by Nick's reaction that there probably wasn't any visible metastasis, but she told herself over and over not to get her hopes up. Historically, bad things always happened to the members of the Sidle family. She smirked at how many bad things had happened to her during her relatively short time on Earth. It was ironic that a year ago she didn't give a damn if she died, but today, she was terrified of that prospect.

"It's good news," Nick said as he handed her the cell phone.

"I know . . . it's easy to read the expression on your face. I've always liked that about you. It's not about guessing games like it is with . . .," Sara said as she trailed off.

"Sar, just be happy for now. The pathology results are going to be in on Monday. The doctor wants you to be in her office at 8 am. I'll just tell Catherine that my family emergency is going to keep me out of town for a few days," Nick said as he began to massage her ankle without thinking.

"Don't burn your vacation time because of me. You should go to Denver like you have been planning for the last year," Sara replied.

"Don't start to pull this bullshit already, Sara. You are my family . . . and I want to be there. I'll follow you to your appointment whether or not you want me there," Nick replied, "Catherine already thinks I'm out of town."

"I just don't want you to get hurt . . . you know, if the doctor gives me a death sentence," Sara said as she began to furiously blink back the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

"You aren't going to give in that easy. Look at how you were going to only be in Vegas for two weeks . . . isn't it what . . . nearly six years later," Nick said as he tried to smile.

"I really beat my head against that brick wall for a long time," Sara said with a smirk. Nick nearly laughed at how often she acknowledged that maybe she spent a little too much time fixated on Grissom. Once, she even told Nick and Warrick that maybe she needed an anti-Grissom intervention a few years ago. They both said that they didn't want to be the ones to hurt her.

"Hey, I'm glad you stuck around," Nick said as he began to knead the sole of her foot.

"If you are offering up a massage, I guess I am glad that I stuck around," Sara replied. Nick wanted to think that she momentarily forgot about the 'cellular atypia,' but her eyes told him a different story.

"Let's raid Warrick's refrigerator. I don't think we ate lunch," Nick said.

"You don't think that Grams made fried chicken lately, do you?" Sara said with a smile. Only Warrick and Nick knew that she secretly loved that woman's fried chicken. It reminded her of her own grandmother's recipe. Sara didn't remember much about her grandparents besides the fact that one set lived in a hippie commune near San Francisco and the other set lived in Tennessee. She remembered loving the car ride through the mountains in Tennessee. That was before her father's alcoholism hit full throttle.

"I hope so," Nick said as he stood up.

Warrick wasn't surprised to see Sara and Nick watching television when he got home from his shift. He knew that they wouldn't be asleep despite the fact that it was nearly midnight.

"Hey, honey, I'm home," Warrick teased as he walked over to the pair. He ran a hand through Sara's hair as he waited for some kind of information about the CT scan. He had nearly gone out of his mind this evening waiting for some kind of news.

"No visible metastasis," Sara said with a half-hearted smile.

"That's good news. That's really good news," Warrick replied with a big smile.

"It doesn't mean that they aren't there," Sara replied. Nick shook his head, and Warrick tried to think of what to say to calm her mind, but she was right. He didn't want her to be right.

"Well, let's order Chinese and celebrate the small victory. Was Grams' chicken good?" Warrick asked.

"We saved you a few pieces," Nick replied.

Warrick dialed the nearest Chinese place and ordered what everyone always ate. It was funny how he knew things like that about Sara and Nick. It was a strange comfort.

"Do you guys ever worry about your soul?" Sara said after what seemed like an hour of silence, though it was only thirty minutes and they were busy setting the table.

"What?" Nick asked.

"Do you ever worry about going to heaven or hell?" Sara clarified.

"No, not really. I'd like to think that I'll be forgiven for all the bad things that I've done," Warrick replied.

"I've done a lot of bad things. I've done a lot of stupid things. I'm not sure I've really done many good things," Sara rambled.

"You do good things every night at the crime lab, Sar. You haven't done anything that outrageously bad," Nick replied.

"I've always been really angry . . . ever since I was a child. Do you think that's the kind of person that God wants in heaven?" Sara replied. Warrick stood still trying to contemplate Sara's predicament. She was the least religious person that he had ever met; she was the last person he thought would get upset about souls and heaven.

"You haven't done anything worse than me," Warrick replied. Sara knew that he wrap sheet was probably longer than hers. He had done drugs, gambled, cheated, slept with more woman than he ever should have, and had his own run-ins with the law. Sara blushed . . . extremely embarrassed that she might have offended him.

"I'm sorry," Sara replied.

"Let's eat. We are supposed to be celebrating the results of the CT scan. Let's worry about souls some other time," Nick said with a smile that covered up how much he was hurting for Sara.