The morning of the second day and Jim Brass was slowly becoming aware: of loud blips and beeps and of unfamiliar voices talking loudly, but mostly, he was becoming aware of being uncomfortable. There was definite pain radiating from his back, his chest and his shoulder, but what bothered him most was the heaviness in his arms and legs. He tried to move his hands and feet only to find that the command he gave with his brain didn't seem to be reaching his extremities.
The strange sounds conflicted with his last memories, leaving him confused and disoriented. There was a note and a bomb. Sara was upstairs; he had to reach her but he still couldn't make his legs work. He tried to call out but when he took a breath, he felt nothing but a rush of hair, the sensation irritating his lungs and making him cough.
The sudden sound of an alarm bell chiming loudly by his right ear caused his heart to race. The bomb was about to explode and he couldn't find Sara. Another alarm sounded, joining with the other to create an alternating buzz and now his anxiety became overwhelming. The sense of urgency felt oppressive. He had to make the sound stop before the bomb detonated. He had to find Sara.
He began to thrash, suddenly aware that his brain had finally made contact with his arms and legs, pulling at whatever was in his throat. People were talking at him, yelling things he couldn't understand. He needed to make them understand that Sara was in danger but they couldn't hear him, not with this thing stuck in his throat.
Hands closed on his wrists, on his ankles, holding him down but he continued to struggle. He had to; Sara needed him. But as hard as he tried to free himself, the more his energy faded until at last he could fight no more. As his limbs once again grew heavy, suddenly, none of it mattered any more. As he drifted slowly into unconsciousness, his last thoughts were of Sara Sidle and how he had failed her.
oooooo
Night had descended on Las Vegas, bringing the city alive in neon. Inside the Desert Palm Hospital, however, a quiet calm settled over the ICU as the swing shift nurses went about their evening routine.
Dressed in blue jeans, a cotton shirt and a light jacket, her right arm supported in a sling, the dark-haired young woman stepped out of the elevator and followed the signs. Loitering in the waiting area, she knew what she was about to do was wrong but apart from Catherine's vague he's out of surgery and in ICU, no one had given her any good answers. Sara had to see for herself.
She watched as they wheeled out one patient, craning to see if it was Brass, relieved when it wasn't, then waited until the aide and nurse disappeared down the corridor. Boldly, Sara pushed open the door to the unit and quietly slipped in.
At the far end of the unit sat a nurse at a desk, filling out her paperwork no doubt and definitely not expecting visitors. Quickly scanning the row of beds, she found only two occupied. In the bed closest to her, she found Jim and now she couldn't seem to make herself move. The rush of guilt and anxiety left her standing frozen in place just inside the room.
He was lying there fighting for his life all because she wouldn't leave. One more minute and they would have been clear of the house; one minute she wasted by arguing with him. One minute between life and death.
One fucking minute.
She pounded her fist against her thigh as tears of anger ran down her cheeks and dripped onto the white tile floor. "I'm so sorry, Jim," she said aloud. "It was my fault and I'm so sorry."
"What are you doing in here?"
The voice made Sara jump. "I had to see him," she said quietly, suddenly feeling exhausted and cold. "No one would tell me anything."
The woman's features softened. "Are you family?"
Sara shook her head. "No, we work together."
The ICU nurse studied the young woman. "You were in that house explosion with him."
"He saved my life."
Jocelyn Dirisio wasn't a cold-hearted woman. She'd been a critical care nurse for too many years to not recognize the necessity that drove this young woman. It was as much a part of her healing as it was his. "I shouldn't do this but I'll give you one minute."
Sara nodded her thanks and took one tentative step towards the bed.
"Talk to him. Let him know you're here."
Sara turned sharply, once again startled by the woman, and slowly came to stand by the side of the bed. Carefully, she reached out her hand and touched his forehead, surprised by how warm his skin was. He looked so pale; she hadn't expected that.
His eyelids slowly opened and closed then opened once more and she leaned forward, into his line of sight. His right hand came up unsteadily, bumping against her side. Reaching out, resting her palm against his, she felt his fingers tighten around her small hand. Seeing the slight nod of his head, Sara knew.
Like her, he just needed to know.
Las Vegas Crime Lab"Gil, got a minute?" Catherine came into his office and took a seat in the chair in front of his desk.
Grissom looked up from his paperwork, took off his glasses and cocked an eyebrow. "Sure, what's on your mind?"
"Jim."
"He's on all our minds. Everything okay?"
"I stopped by the hospital on my way in. He spiked a fever so he's still in ICU."
"Fever is a sign of infection and that's not good." His tone was more matter of fact than informative.
"I spoke to one of the doctors and he said if he doesn't show any improvement by morning, they're going to take him back to surgery."
"And you're worried."
"Hell, yes, I'm worried. Aren't you?"
"Catherine, Jim is my friend too."
She let out a deep sigh. "I know. I'm sorry." Her shoulders slumped in exasperation. "I just feel so helpless."
"Unfortunately, there's not a lot we can do right now."
"But there's something I can do later, when he gets out of the hospital."
Gil admired her optimism. He hadn't quite thought that far ahead yet. "Yes, there is."
"He doesn't have any family."
"He has a daughter."
"Yeah, right. Have you ever met her?"
Gil shook his head.
"Me either but from what I hear, that's a kid who should have been a wet dream. Warrick was able to locate his mother but she's in an assisted care facility in New Jersey so we decided not to tell her unless…"
Grissom put up his hands. "Catherine, stop. I know Jim will have difficulty managing on his own and I think it's great that you want to help. I'll give you all the time you need so don't worry."
She got up to leave. "Thanks." Lingering at the door, she turned. "By the way, how's Sara?"
The corner of Grissom's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "Physically, she's okay."
"Mentally?"
"She's struggling."
"She needs you. You need to be there for her."
Frowning, he lowered his gaze to the papers on his desk and said simply, "I know."
xx
To be continued in chapter 4