Chapter Eleven: Angel

She was exhausted, but Sara knew that sleep wouldn't come for her. It had been nearly an hour now since her and Nick had checked Greg into the hospital, though very much against the man's wish. That alone only added to her apprehension.

The only comfort she had was the simple fact that Nick was a shocked and bewildered as she was. Even stretching her mind she could not come up with an excuse to why Greg would want to kill himself.

The lump that had been in her throat had long disappeared, but now it was quickly coming back. Just the thought of it bothered her. Sara glanced down the hallways, anxious to find out what was going on, even more anxious to see Greg. Her own hands were shaking, and she longed nothing more than to wrap them around his frame, and hold him close.

A hoarse laugh left her lips, and she shook her head. What was she even doing here? She had thought to bring him here first, seeing him broken like that, crying on the floor after trying to kill himself. It had seemed like a good idea, but now…what would happen?

Would they put him in a mental institution? She grew sick at the thought of Greg being hounded around by doctors, locked in rooms and assigned to medications. After watching her mother go through something similar she swore she would never watch another loved one go through it again. But she just couldn't abandon him.

Her thoughts turned back to that one night, and she wondered dimly if Greg had been drinking heavily again…but she knew in her heart that had not. There were no signs, no symptoms…

Sara fisted her hands together, pressing them against her mouth as she felt the tears fall. She wanted to know so badly what was wrong that it was beginning to hurt. Was it something she had done, or had failed to do? If that was true then why did Greg refuse to let go of her, prompting the doctors to physically restrain him?

She let out a curse, wrapping her arms around her torso. Greg had obviously lost it, unable to keep himself from crying, talking in circles but never making sense. Now he was restrained in a hospital and who knew what else would happen. Would Greg become violent, and start to lash out, or would he just drift away and become nothing?

The silence was getting on her nerves, leaving her to wish that Nick had stayed. The Texan had left a while ago, heading back to the lab to inform everyone. He said it would be easier to tell everyone in person, but Sara believed it was because the situation was starting to freak him out. Sara had promised fully to call when she found out what was going on.

"Miss Sidle?"

She glanced up, hardly aware of the doctor standing over her until just then. Nodding quickly she moved to stand up, but the doctor stopped her motion, and instead took a seat next to her. She sat back down, the feeling of unease was returning.

"I'm sorry for the wait, but Mr. Sanders wasn't being very cooperative," he held the papers in his hands, showing her briefly what was written on them. "You stated he seemed disorientated, irrational maybe?"

Sara nodded, "Yeah…he um…he tried to kill himself, and I…I don't know, I just want to know what's wrong with him."

"His condition has worsened drastically, his system is slowly shutting down on itself, if he had come in earlier maybe we could have seen this…"

"What?" her voice broke through his, both awed and amazed, watching him closely. "Condition… what condition?"

"I'll assume he hasn't told you then?" he hardly waited for an answer, "He is, unfortunately, suffering from heart failure, he's been aware of this for months now."

"Heart failure?" Sara breathed, shaking her head quickly, "But he's not even thirty…why?"

"We don't know," his sigh was heavy. This was the hated the most, strictly after telling people that their loved ones had died. Was it any worse, telling them that their loved ones would die? "His hearts bad, we can't give you a reason."

"But surely there must be something you can do?" Sara was praying now, still in shock from the events earlier, as well as the information she was soaking in now.

"For now," he nodded, "Were you with him when he tried to commit suicide?"

"Of course not," she replied thinly. If she were there, did he honestly think she would allow it to even start?

"Do you know if he took something, did you see any empty bottles or anything before you brought him in?"

Sara shook her head again, afraid to ask the question. "Why?"

"Apparently Mr. Sanders has taken some sort of drug, it's deteriorating his system fairly quickly. We've done what we can, but whatever it is has already passed into his blood stream. He's refusing to speak with us, the only thing that we can do is pull a sample and send it in, but that will take days to get results…and at the rate he's going Mr. Sanders will be lucky to make it through till the morning."

"What?" She felt like crying, already was, the tears brimming in her eyes. There had been so much going on and she had been blind to it all…She couldn't stand the thought of life without Greg, for years he had been a close friend and recently she had just opened up to him. Now she felt sucker punched, unable to decide between wanting to throw up or cry until there was nothing left. Even if she had all the time in the world she still wouldn't be able to prepare for his death…and now this man here was telling her she had less than handful of hours?

"You have to do something," she cried once finding her voice, turning in her chair to face him.

"We can only do so much. Unless we know what he took we can't give him something to cure it, even if we did it's highly unlikely, all we have is time."

"What about a new heart?" she suggested, racking her brain for any possible solution. "Surely he can get one in time."

"It takes years," he countered, "of waiting, of paperwork, meetings. It's not something that is just done."

"But he's dying!"

"And so is the child that is born early, or the athlete that too many steroids, the grandfather that smoked for too long. How do give justice to them? Everyone needs something but organs are in short supply. We can't just simply give someone a heart because they are dying, simply because everyone does die. The process of selection is long and hard…don't start to judge until you know everything."

"And what am I supposed to do?" she replied crisply. "Watch him die?"

"Give him comfort, let him know you are there. What any good friend or family member would do." At her silence he continued. "If he can last through the night…if he can, we might be able to stabilize his system, at the most give him a month…maybe two…"

"Why are…you're asking me?" she wondered, feeling sick as he nodded.

"Mr. Sanders has made it very clear that he doesn't want to remain in the hospital, but when a patient is labeled as not being in the right state of mind, such a suicidal, they no longer can choose for themselves. It then passes to the guardian or their emergency contact, which would be you."

"He stays," she said simply, without a second thought. She knew Greg was upset, had seen it when taking him in, but if it gave him a chance…she would risk it. This time she nodded, more confident. "He stays."

"You can see him," the doctor nodded, "if you want. He's restrained, about the only thing we can do to keep him from leaving…"

Sara nodded, her legs shaking as she moved to her feet. The doctor had stayed behind, though she wished that he hadn't. Part of her wanted to turn around, head for home and bury her head into her pillows. That when she woke up, it would be nothing but a bad dream. But she wanted to see him, had to see him.

A bitter taste was in her mouth as she reached the door, wondering briefly why Greg hadn't told her anything. She should be angry with herself, for not noticing sooner, for not being able to help…if he would have only said something. Gritting her teeth she pressed the door open, her anger only increasing. The scene before her did nothing to help, knowing that Greg had chosen to do this to himself.

"Damn you," she whispered, her voice catching his attention. Greg looked up quickly seeing her there, but made no move to say anything. "Damn you," she repeated, louder this time, shaking her head as the tears threatened to come back.

"What did you take?"

Greg turned away as far as he could, ignoring her rants. It, however, didn't detour Sara. "What did you take?"

Covering her eyes with a hand she sank into one of the seats, letting out a bitter sob. "I trusted you," she cried lightly, "all this time, I never thought you'd hurt me, and then you pull something like this…"

Nothing more was said, only the sound of her cries could be heard, and even then they were quiet. Greg said nothing, only continued to stare at the wall, he had nothing left, not even the strength to cry.

It shocked him, when he felt the warm skin against his, turning to find that Sara had crossed the room, burying her head in the crook of his neck as she continued to cry, muttering soft apologies. It was instinctive, to reach up to comfort her, but the restraints allowed him limited movement.

She shifted, but held him close still, resting her head on the pillow next to him. She lay halfway on the bed, her legs hanging over the edge as she wrapped an arm around his chest. "You have to tell them…" she pleaded quietly, watching his face.

"Please…Greg, they can't help you unless you do."

"To what point?"

It was the first he had spoken, actually been able to talk without hesitation, without interruption. When Sara glanced into his eyes she didn't see the fear or confusion she saw before, they were clear, lucid…and demanding an answer.

"So you can take me home, nurse me like a child for a couple more weeks, a month or two?"

Sara pulled back, drying her eyes with the back of her hand as she watched him. His eyes closed as he turned away, prompting Sara to reach out to stroke his cheek gently. "I don't want to lose you Greg…"

Swallowing she regained control of her voice; it was more steady now, but plenty sad as questioned him. "Why did you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't want to hurt you," he answered quietly. It seemed ridiculous now, knowing full well by what Grissom had meant earlier. He had only hurt her worse by hiding everything.

"Greg, all you have to do is tell them…they can help you…this isn't how I want you to go, and I don't think that you want this either."

"I don't want to be here…"

"I know," Sara agreed quietly, "but it's for the best…"

She had barely finished talking yet Greg was already shaking his head, his eyes glistening with tears. "Don't make me stay…"

"You have to," she pressed, slipping a hand into one of his own. He wasted little time in curling his fingers around hers, holding them tight.

"No I don't," he pleaded quietly, "You can get me out, take me away from here…"

"I can't," she shook her head, "Greg…if I take you out of here you'll die."

"I'm going to die anyways Sara, you can't stop that, they can't stop that…no one can," Greg pointed out forcefully. He let out a solemn sigh as he rested his head back against the pillows. "Sara please…I'm begging you…don't make me stay here, please…"

She was crying again, one hand holding his as the other moved to cover her eyes. He was asking her the impossible, asking her to do something, that something would ultimately kill him. How long did the doctors say he had? Hours at best, and if by some miracle he lasted the night, how much longer after that? Would this question always be on her mind, back and forth to the hospital, until at last his body gave up? It was clear that he had already given up the fight in his mind, he was no longer denying what was to come.

"I don't want to die," he said quietly, "Not here, not like this…why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Drying her eyes one last time she let out a shaky breath, looking into his eyes. There were tears there as well, a mirror reflection of herself. He was so pale; she hadn't noticed it until now, as she ran her fingers through his hair. "What do you want to do?"

He didn't look away, or search for a distraction, his eyes clear again as they filled with hope. His voice was quiet, but audible as he answered. "I want to see the ocean."

Sara pulled the car to a stop, watching remorsefully as the water played before her. The sky was a light grey, tinged with pink as the sun struggled to climb through the haze. He had lasted much longer than they expected, yet Sara knew time was running out. Cautiously she reached over, shaking the man awake, calling his name quietly.

It took a few tries before Greg responded, a rough cough that shook his entire body as his eyes blinked open slowly. For a few seconds he glanced around the vehicle, before his gaze drifted out the window, caught up in a trancelike state.

"We're here," she nodded, one hand still resting on his shoulder. "Can you walk?"

It hadn't taken long to have him discharged, the doctors understanding of her decision, regretful at the same time. He hadn't been able to walk then, and instead opted for a wheelchair, but it wasn't like they could just whisk it along on the journey.

"I think," came his weak reply, but after a beat he continued, "with some help…maybe."

Sara nodded, already moving to get out. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to wake up, find herself in her bed crying a stream of tears as she hugged Greg close, wanting him to hold her and tell her that it was all a bad dream. But this wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare, one she couldn't get away from.

Everything was too real for a dream, the way he leaned against her because he could no longer walk, the icy feel of his skin, the blue tinge to his lips…Sara turned away, even as they worked their way across the sand, the only sounds were her own encouragements, and the crashing of the waves.

"Here…" Greg breathed, nearly collapsing. Sara held onto him, easing him to the ground as she followed. He leaned against her, as Sara wrapped her arms around him. "It's beautiful," he breathed.

She could barely talk, her voice catching in her throat as she nodded. Yes…it was very beautiful. Sara had almost forgotten how beautiful…she hadn't been out this way in ages. Turning down she watched Greg, his eyes searching the endless horizon, fighting the need the close.

One of her hands had moved to his chest, resting over his heart, a reassurance of sorts…

Greg leaned his head against her, his eyes closing as he took a few slow breaths, trying to calm his shaking body. "Sara…"

She nodded, her voice raspy as she answered, "Yes?"

"Do you…believe in angels?"

The question came as a surprise; it wasn't something she had thought about, not until now. How was she supposed to answer? Wetting her lips she nodded again, blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall. "I do…"

The answer seemed to satisfy him as he let out a subtle breath, reaching for her hand. Their fingers entwined as she kissed him tenderly, afraid to pull away.

"I have one watching me now…"

His last breath came quiet, silent almost, falling against the crook of her neck. Even still, Sara refused to let him go, holding not only onto him but the last moment that they shared as the tears came this time, only to be swallowed up by the crashing of the waves.

TBC