A/N: I would like to thanks Maggs, because without her, this chapter never, ever, ever would have seen the light of day.

Chapter Six

Sara said the first thing that came to mind. "You can't be serious."

Claire sounded offended. "I'm completely serious. Gil was bleeding internally and his temperature is rapidly spiking. The doctors say he hasn't been taking care of himself. It's…the doctors aren't quite sure what's wrong with him. If he doesn't make it…"

"Oh God." Sara moaned. "Oh God. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good." Claire sounded satisfied. "Thank you, Sara. I'm sure he'll want to see you."

"I'll be there soon."

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Sara grabbed her cell phone and rapidly dialed Catherine's number. "Cath, I'm not coming to work for a couple of days."

"Sara, is everything okay?"

For what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, Sara burst into tears. "No. Grissom was in a car crash. It's not looking good."

"Oh Jesus." Catherine breathed. "Take however much time you need. I'll get it cleared. Call and tell us how he's doing, okay?"

"Yeah." Sara swallowed. "Cath –"

"I know, Sara." Catherine said gently. "He means a lot to all of us too."

"If he dies –"

"He won't." Catherine interrupted firmly. "Grissom's too stubborn to let a little thing like this get him. He'll be fine."

"He might not be." Sara retorted, biting her lip. "I'm sorry Cath. I'll call when I know something more."

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Sara parked the Denali and forced air through her lungs. "He'll be fine." She repeated over and over, forbidding herself from thinking any negative thoughts. "He'll be fine."

Sara found her way to the ICU and strode up to the nurse's station. "I'm looking for Gil Grissom."

"Are you family?" The nurse asked.

"His niece." She lied.

"Room 1235." The nurse barely looked up.

"Which floor?" Sara asked.

"Twelve." The nurse snapped her gum.

"Thanks." Sara found the elevators and stepped inside. She frantically jabbed at the number twelve. It seemed to take hours for the elevator to reach the 12th floor, but in reality it was only seconds. Sara tore out of the elevator and down the hall until she found room 1235.

"Grissom." He didn't look battered or beaten or near death. "Are you okay? What happened? Do they know what's going on?"

"Sara." Grissom held up a hand. "I'm fine."

"But your cousin –"

"I don't have a cousin."

Sara's hand's flew to her hips. "But I got a call, and she said –"

"Sara, please hear me out."

Sara didn't like the phrases "we need to talk" and "hear me out." Those phrases invariably led to long, stiff, mind-numbing conversations about "what was happening."

"I'm listening."

"I feel bad about the way we left things. I, uh…I" He blushed. "I don't like fighting with you. So I was going to call you as soon as I got to my mother's house."

Sara nodded.

"As I was getting off the freeway, this drunk driver was speeding the wrong way down the off-ramp. There was nothing I could do. He hit me head on. He wasn't wearing his seatbelt."

"He died?" Sara asked softly.

"On impact."

"Oh. So are you really okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Then –"

"When I was waiting for the paramedics it occurred to me that the last time I ever saw you might be after you as good as told me to go to Hell. I couldn't let it end like that. So, Sara, I would like you to meet Claire Dawson."

Sara had envisioned a woman in he late thirties, but Claire Dawson couldn't have been a day over eighteen.

"Are you two second cousins?" Sara glanced from Grissom to Claire.

"Nope."

Sara noticed Claire's pink and white striped dress and hospital volunteer badge. "You volunteer at the hospital?"

"Claire volunteers here on Thursdays and Fridays." Grissom explained. "Claire and I aren't related."

Sara was thoroughly confused. "But you said she wasn't your cousin."

"It was just so romantic and…" Claire piped up, sighing dreamily.

"Sara." Grissom almost looked mildly amused. "Claire was just helping me get you here."

Comprehension. "You lied to me?" She yelled, half pissed and half very confused. "You lied to me?"

"Sara, you have to understand –"

"Oh, I understand alright. I understand that you're a real jerk!"

"Good morning!" A cheery doctor whose nametag read Trisha Flint practically beamed. "I hope you're feeling better, Dr. Grissom."

"I am."

"I have to, uh, go." Claire excused herself.

"I think she's got a little crush on you, Dr. G." Dr. Flint winked.

Grissom blushed and Sara's complexion grew redder by the second. "So Dr. Flint, how am I doing?"

"Well, you're doing great, except for that pesky broken arm." She smiled. "The breaks were clean and we set the arm while you were out."

For the first time, Sara noticed Grissom's cast. Black. How appropriate. Nobody can leave their mark.

"And we can release you today. However, no driving until you're fully healed. And since you're still doped up on Vicodin, I'm afraid I have to release you into somebody's custody. Good thing your niece is here. Are you Claire? So funny that your name is the same as hers." Dr. Flint referred to Claire Dawson.

"Hilarious." Sara gritted, not bothering to correct the doctor.

"Well, I'll be back in a few minutes with your discharge papers, Dr. Grissom. Nice to meet you Claire."

As soon as Dr. Flint left, Sara exploded. "No. Uh-uh. She is not releasing you into my care."

"Well my mother can't drive. So if you could just drop me at her house…it's a thirty minute drive and it's on the way back to Vegas."

"You lied to me!" Sara jumped back to her earlier refrain.

"Sara, stop being childish." Grissom snapped.

"Oh, now I'm childish." Sara's face was changing from red to purple.

"No, Sara –"

"Fine. I'll take you to your mother's. After that, don't ever speak to me again. Understood?"

Grissom nodded shamefully.

"Good. I'll be waiting out front."

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She really, really didn't want to have to ask. But she really, really had to pee.

"Uh, Grissom. Can I use your restroom?"

"Oh, uh, sure." Grissom looked surprised. "Can you pop the trunk?"
"Sure." Sara hit the trunk release. Grissom unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to the back of the SUV. He opened the trunk and hoisted his duffel over with his good arm.

The two waited on the steps until Mrs. Grissom opened the door. Gil. She signed. And you've brought a friend.

I'm Sara Sidle. Sara's hands seemed to manipulate themselves into half-forgotten positions.

Grissom looked at Sara, taken aback.

I'm just here to drop Gil off and use the bathroom. She signed. Then I'll be off.

Nonsense. Please stay for dinner. Grissom's mother led them into the foyer.

Mrs. Grissom, I really can't stay. I just need to use your restroom.

Down the hall and to the right. Sara nodded and exited the foyer.

Grissom's mother folded her arms for a minute, staring her son down, before she lifted a hand and smacked Grissom on the side of his head.

A/N: What, what? Oh yeah, that's right, Grissom is about to experience the mother of all smackdowns. (Pun so intended.) Who knew Sara could sign? Who's excited to see why? What worked in this chapter for you? You guys should probably know that I originally intended to give Grissom some rare like, Avian flu or something, before I realized that was just ninety miles out of too far out. So, as always, please leave your thoughts, even if it's just a quick review!