Chapter XXXVIII

Waiting

How many times would they gather, in the cold waiting room worrying about one of their own? Nick and Greg paced the small area at different speeds, neither speaking. Warrick and Catherine were with Lindsey. Grissom stood, staring down the hallway that they had rushed Sara down. Brass sat beside Sofia, the two detectives were silent, and still. Only their eyes gave away their feelings.

Sofia was coated in Sara's blood, but she had made no move to wash herself. She hadn't even noticed it. She just kept seeing it in her head. Sara bleeding out. Sara's chocolate browns clouded over, the spark of life in them dim. There had been so much blood. Sofia had seen many bloody scenes but this was no Jane Doe she could just look over. This was her woman, her Sara. Her Sara was dancing on the threshold of death. She didn't know what to do. In her career, she was bound to lose people she cared about. No law enforcement was safe. Nick had been buried alive, Brass had been shot, Warrick had almost died of neon gas poisoning. Sofia wrapped her arms around herself and though she tried to fight them back, the tears fell anyway.

Cambridge Parker walked down the halls, she'd gotten the call, but she was still numb, she still couldn't believe it. Sara "The Wild Woman" Sidle had been shot. It just didn't compute in her head. She couldn't wrap her mind around the idea that Sara could be dying. That she could already be dead. She found the ER waiting room and took in the scene. It was quiet, and it was deathly serious and just a little bit morbid.

Sofia caught her eye first, but since the woman was spattered with blood, it was no surprise. She went to her and knelt down in front of the blonde detective. "Hey." Sofia looked at her, her eyes focused slowly. She looked around, "She's in shock." Of course they all looked like they were in shock to some degree or another. One of the people, she thought his name was Brass, stood up. "I'll go see if I can find a blanket and maybe some scrubs she can change into." She nodded and then looked to Gil Grissom. "Any news?" The gray haired man shook his head, "No." In his hand was a clip board. Cami tilted her head to the side. "Sara's information?" He nodded once more. She took it, "You didn't get very far." Something passed through the man's eyes, it may have been sorrow or perhaps annoyance. "I don't know her middle name." She took the pen from his lax hand. "Selene. Sara Selene Sidle, her parents had a thing about alliteration...or something." She sat down in the chair that Brass had just emptied. "She always hated it in college." Her hands were shaking, but she couldn't think about what she was writing, so she kept talking. "She flew through college. She tested out of the easy stuff, flew through the hard stuff. You know Sara, she maxed out her hours and took summer courses, went to every lecture Harvard offered." She shook her head, "She finished up early and was off to med school before I knew what happened. That's Sar, though. All work and no play until you drag her to the park and force her until she forgets to be serious."

She looked down at the papers in her hands. Medical information, background information, next of kin. Gil Grissom had left that blank too. She met his gray eyes and for a moment, she was silent. "In case of medical emergency, I am Sara's next of kin." She was, unknowingly, echoing Grissom's own words about Jim Brass. Grissom's eyebrow climbed, "When did this happen?" Cami sighed, "When Cowboy over there was buried alive. Sara called me; I hadn't heard her so upset in years. With her kind of family...well, she asked me to take her power of attorney." She ran her hands through her already mussed black hair. "Sara's a fighter. She has been ever since I've known her. She'll pull through this, she has to."

The doors swung open and everyone looked up. A frazzled looking doctor in blood spattered scrubs came out. She looked around. "Sara Sidle?" When the entire room stood, she nodded, "Right. Well, she's stabilized and gone on to surgery. I can't really say anything more then that, not to non-family members."

From the corner, Warrick, who had been running between Catherine and the rest of the CSIs, spoke up, "We are her only family, Doctor." Cami nodded, "I have her power of attorney, and he" She indicated Grissom, "Is her supervisor. We need to know." The doctor nodded, "Miss Sidle suffered a single stab wound. From my examination she's got extensive damage to the right kidney and liver, she's lost a lot of blood and her condition is critical. That's really all I know. I can show you to the waiting room upstairs; the surgeon will be able to let you know more when he's done."

She was fine, physically speaking. The doctors were being very careful and kind with Lindsey. The uniforms were keeping the press at bay. There had been no news about Sara. Hadn't Warrick just gotten past his brush with death? A few months ago, Brass had won his battle against the bullet and before that, Nick had survived a hellish imprisonment underground. Sara would pull through this; she was young and strong. She was just like Holly Gribbs. Holly Gribbs, though, hadn't survived. She had died. They had brought her to this same hospital. Holly had died. Sara could die.

Lindsey was asleep, resting for the first time since she'd been taken. Her eyelids moved and every once and a while she let out a little moan. Her baby girl was having nightmares. Catherine ran her hand through her daughter's hair, trying to calm her night terrors.

She knew that she would have a few night terrors herself. The image was burned into her mind. Lindsey, covered in Sara's blood, holding that gun, staring at the body of Madison Daniels. Her baby had been forced to kill someone. It wasn't something she had ever wanted Lindsey to have to see, let alone do. Catherine remembered how she had felt after killing Sid Google. Even though she'd shot him protecting Grissom...there had been guilt and horror and even now she sometimes awoke from vivid nightmares about it. She didn't want that for Lindsey. She laid her head down on Lindsey's bed, unwilling to leave her daughter's side for a moment. Her mom and Sam had been notified, so had Nancy. They would be along later, for now it was just Lindsey and herself. She didn't know what lay ahead. She didn't know how to comfort Lindsey, not really. She didn't know how this would affect their lives. She just didn't know.

There was one thing she was sure of, though. Sara was her personal hero. Sara had found her little girl. Had tried to go by the book, but even when she'd know she was in danger, she'd gone in...gone to rescue Lindsey. She'd been stabbed trying to save her girl. If Sara died...Catherine would never forgive herself.

"Do you know where I can find Catherine Willows?"

"She's in the field."

Sara grinned a little, her curly hair and small gap toothed smile made her look much younger then she was. Like less of a CSI and more of the girl next door.

"So when do I start kicking for gifts?

"When the spirit moves you, Sara, which in your case will be never."

Her smile had faltered a bit and her brown eyes had looked just a little hurt.

"Every time we get a case with a hint of domestic abuse, you go off the deep end! What is your deal!" Her intense brown eyes had flashed and Sara had fired back a stinging retort.

"You're the last person I'd turn to for help with my daughter."

"MY DAUGHTER IS AS GOOD AS DEAD AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

Sara bending over a dead body.

Sara dusting for prints.

Sara drinking coffee and looking utterly exhausted.

Sara performing CPR on Warrick

Sara lying in a pool of her own blood in that basement.

Sara on a slab in Doc Robbin's morgue.

Catherine jerked awake. The dream had been intense, and very true. Catherine looked at her still sleeping daughter and indulged herself in a few more tears. Every time Sara had offered the olive branch, she had snapped it in two and jabbed it at the other woman's eyes. Why? Why had she treated Sara like that? There were so many reasons, all of them petty. She had been threatened by the other woman. She was younger and smarter then her. She was driven and innovative. She had been Grissom's favorite, his hand picked girl. She had invaded their territory with that damn gap-toothed smile of hers and this never-say-die attitude. Catherine had hated her from the first time she'd heard the woman's name.

She had never put aside that animosity. She'd fed the fires of competition and disharmony with snarky remarks and subtle digs. She ran her hands through her own hair. She could hear the echoes of her viscous words. She felt the cut into her, each word bringing a new sensation of pain. She was so wrong. So very wrong. Sara had only helped her. Ever since she'd come to Vegas, Sara had tried to be friendly. Now, she was, according to Warrick, in surgery. She'd been in surgery for three hours now. Three hours and there had been no word. She owed the woman more then an apology - she owed Sara the world. Sara had found her daughter. She had figured it out all by herself and even when she was ordered to stop, when she was fired, she still had brought Lindsey home. Catherine was afraid. She didn't know what she would say to Sara. Didn't know if she even had the words to convey how sorry she was. She was more afraid, though, that she would never get a chance to say anything to Sara at all.

Warrick stood in the hallway, half way between Lindsey's room and the elevator that would take him to the waiting room. He leaned against the wall and blew out a sigh. He hadn't ever felt this useless, not since Holly had died. That thought chilled him down to the bone. Sara couldn't die. He couldn't imagine coming into a crime lab without her there. He couldn't imagine not seeing her load her coffee with sugar or not hearing her mindless humming and singing. He just couldn't make himself believe that she could die. When he had been dying, she had saved him. She had swooped in like an angel and saved his life. Now she was on the operating table and he was helpless.