Disclaimer- I forgot to mention this in the first chapter but CSI and all its characters are not owned by me. However The Gibson Family and the plot are all mine.
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Chapter 2
Before anyone could react two more shots rang out and a heavy thump could be heard coming from the second floor. Coming out of the immediate shock that had set upon every one Grissom turned, racing up the stairs careful not to disturb the little glass tent he had put over the blood droplet. As he turned the corner at the top of the stairs a scene straight from a nightmare greeted him. A man lay obviously dead outside the hall closet bleeding from two holes in his chest. His gun lay still clutched in his hand. Sara was on the other side of the hall, her hand clutching her side as she leaned against the wall. Her short shallow breathing could be heard along with the officer behind him radioing for an ambulance. Unable to stand any longer Sara's balance faltered, causing her to slide slowly to the floor leaving a crimson streak on the blue paint behind her. Regaining his senses he rushed to her side in time to see her eyes slip close.
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A hand on his shoulder made him pause from his pacing. Turning Catherine her mournful eyes begged for details.
"Sit down Gil. Your no use to her if you end up dead on your feet."
Complying with her request for a moment was easy but after about 30 seconds the stillness became unbearable. The whole team had shown up once the word had gone out that Sara had been shot. They all sat there in the waiting room. Each in there own state of agony. Brass stood by the vending machine glaring at anyone brave enough to venture close enough to attempt a chance at sustenance as if they were the shooter not the body on a slab in the morgue. Warrick and the wife sat in the armchair fingers interlocked, one praying for the women who was like his little sister, the other praying for a women she had never met. Nick sat reading back issues of Martha Stewart Home Living, periodically ripping out whatever ad reminded him of Sara. Sophia sat at the window seat, thinking. Catherine it seemed had taken over Grissoms pacing and the look on her face told passerby's that she intended to wear a hole. Greg sat in one of the nylon, navy blue chairs at the edge of the room staring at the wall as if the only thing important right now was to commit the pink and cream wallpaper to memory. And Grissom sat there in a silent battle of wills.
Peaking his head through the door he coughed slightly. Just because he had been a doctor for 47 years didn't mean he was good at speaking to the family. Focusing back on the room he noticed 8 pairs of eyes staring at him. Clearing his throat again he went for the plunge.
"Are any of you here for Ms. Sidle?"
8 people stood up.
"Ok then. I am the doctor who operated on Ms. Sidle. The bullet missed all vital organs and although we had a bit of trouble getting the bugger out we got it in the end. She can go home the day after tomorrow; we will give her some painkillers and some pills to take to prevent infection. She is has just been moved to ICU and although we don't normally allow visitors right after surgery before we operated she was very agitated and kept asking for a Gil Grissom. Is any of you him?"
Stepping forward Grissom nodded.
"I am"
"Good then follow me."
Her hair had been washed and now lay on the pillow. Bandages completely covered her torso, leaving only her arms uncovered. She was hooked up to several machines and an IV dripped steadily. They had warned him that she looked worse than she really was but it was still a shock to see Sara so pale and helpless. Crossing the room he pulled a chair closer and sat down. Picking up her hand he stroked it softly. Immediately her eyelids flickered.
"G-Gri…"
She stuttered her voice strained and raw. Licking her lips she tried again all the while squinting against the light.
"Grissom?"
Her voice cracked slightly but her words were perfectly understandable. Using his other hand to smooth the hair away from her face he answered her softly.
"Shhh, It's alright Sara I'm here nothing going to happen to you."
Mumbling something incoherent her eyes slipped close into much needed sleep.
The two days Sara was in the hospital were stressful to say the least. When she had woken again the first thing out of her mouth was concern for the girl. It took Grissom a good 20 minutes to fully reassure her that she was safely found in a bathroom cupboard. Everyone had come by periodically to try and keep her company but needless to say Sara proved to be a rather difficult patient.
Finally the hour had come. The last paper had been signed, the last nurse thanked, and hopefully the last wheelchair ride taken. She was free. Well just about as free as a person who wasn't allowed to walk for a week could be. Grissom had insisted on helping her home and had taken it upon himself to be her caretaker. Not that she wasn't thrilled to have him sleeping in her house for a few days but things could get a little awkward. Before they had left the hospital Sara had been given a long list of dos and don'ts. The one that aggravated her the most was the walking don't. She had tried to convince him that they were more like guidelines and she would be ok to walk to her apartment but he would have none of it. When they arrived at her home he was true to the paper. While him picking her up wasn't that embarrassing being carried up four flights of stairs in front of various people you don't know was.
"You don't have to do this Grissom."
"I am not going to let you walk up four flights of stairs by yourself."
"Why not? I would be fine."
"Bullshit. You can't even twist your torso how would you climb stairs. Besides this way I know your ok because I put you there."
"Your logic is twisted."
"Oh yeah?"
He paused maneuvering around a corner.
"How so?"
Sighing softly to her self as they went up the second set of stairs she crossed her arms in annoyance.
"Just because you put me somewhere doesn't mean I'll stay there. Not walking for a week is not happening Grissom."
He was silent until they reached her door. While she searched for her keys he answer her.
"It is to happening. I'm not going to allow you to hurt yourself because you didn't want to follow the doctors orders."
Rolling her eyes she pushed the door open so he could walk in. Placing her gently on the couch he took in his surroundings. He had only been there once before and then he had been more concerned with her. The living room walls were painted a dusky purple and bookshelves lined the room. A few paintings along with some furniture were scattered about the remaining area. Over in the corner was what looked like the cooking area. To him the room was Sara.
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The sudden noise, bright flashes of light, the pain. It all blended together as before but this time the outcome of the attack had been different. He had gotten away. She was lying there alone, cold, dying. She could feel the blood seeping out of her taking with it her life. And what scared her more was it took her will to live to.
The scream that woke him up scared him more than any crime scene ever had. It was a scream of someone who was petrified someone who had given up all hope and wanted to give one last good bye to the world that had given up on it. He had made up the bed in Sara's spare bedroom intending on sleeping. It had been only 2 hours since the sandman had visited but he was up like a flash when he heard. Rushing into her bedroom Grissom found her sitting upright in bed her breath coming in short gasps. Her hair had been mussed slightly from what sleep she had gotten and two tear tracks ran down her face. Crossing the room slowly he sat carefully on the edge of the bed. Since he had arrived she had not moved. Reaching out to touch her shoulder gently he was not surprised when she started at his touch. Rubbing her shoulder slightly Grissom waited until she faced him to talk.
"Nightmare?"
"Yeah."
Her voice was low and strained. She took a deep shuddering breath willing herself to stop crying. She hated breaking down in frontof Grissom. When so much else was screwed in her life right now the least she could do was hold back the tears.