Thank you to everyone to offered their prayers and support, it means a lot to me. Another slow day at work, another chapter for your reading pleasure. I didn't get as far with this chapter as I wanted to, and there's not very much action, but it's going to move faster in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think, and if you want me to continue.
Thank you to everyone who replied in the last chapter, it's motivation to write faster.
Jenny
Chapter Two: Survivor
I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through my body, leaving me woozy as Timothy knelt before me. "What is it?"
"We had to move Sara to ICU, the damage is a lot worse than we initially assumed. Whatever she ingested was extremely strong. Our internal specialists are finding it miraculous that she's even alive. Even after we flushed her system, the decomposition of her tissues is continuing. Until we find a way to stop that decomposition, we can't even guarantee she will make it through the night."
The severity of the situation hit me when he uttered that last sentence, and for a second I was sure I was going to pass out. Instead, I clenched my fists and forced myself to remain professional and rational, "What are you giving her for the tissue damage?"
"We tried to neutralize the acid with a strong base solution, a cocktail we usually use to treat our overdose patients, but she's not reacting to it right now. Basic chemistry, if we can neutralize the acid, the internal reaction will stop. We're worried that the damage is already too extensive to repair. I'll be honest with you Catherine," He paused for a moment, as if he was trying to come up with the right words to cushion the next blow, "This is unlike anything we've ever seen. Unless we find out what she ingested, there's no guarantee we will be able to fix the problem."
I stood quickly, whipping out my cell phone, "I'm on it," I looked back at Timothy and gave him a soft smile, "Thank you for taking such good care of her."
"Just doing my job, Catherine." Timothy replied before walking off.
Just as I was about to speed dial Grissom, my phone rang, startling me so much that I nearly dropped the phone.
"Willows."
"It's Grissom."
He sounded awful. I always knew Sara meant a lot to him, but only now was it really sinking in just how much he cared for her.
"Hey, I was just about to call you. She swallowed some sort of chemical solution, we don't know what it is, and they can't really treat her until they know. Have you guys found anything that she may have taken?"
"We found a glass containing an unidentifiable liquid. Nick brought it back to the lab to get it traced. The perpetrator must have forced her to drink it, it had a strong odor, there's no way she was just slipped something. We've found a lot of prints, as well as blood. We're hoping it's the attacker's." He paused for a moment before asking in a worried voice, "So how is she? Really?"
I took a deep, steadying breath and tried to keep the emotion out of my voice. I had to be the strong one, in case everyone else fell apart. "It's not good Gil. They aren't sure if she's going to make it, you guys may want to get down here when you're finished up there."
"After we're finished collecting evidence, we're going to turn it over to Days to process it, and we'll all meet you there. What have the doctors said? What more can you tell me?"
It broke my heart to hear the fear masked behind his attempt at a collected tone, and I desperately wanted to protect him from the bad news I had to share. Taking a steadying breath, I replied in what I hoped was a soothing voice, "Don't worry about that right now. Just finish up over there and get down here. She needs you."
I ended the call, dialing a familiar number. He picked up after 4 rings, his voice thick with sleepiness and confusion, "Sanders."
"Hey Greg, it's Catherine. I'm sorry to wake you up, but you need to meet me at Desert Palm, ASAP." I paused for a second, steadying my shaking insides before adding, "It's Sara."
Just over an hour later, our whole team was gathered in the waiting room, hoping for some sort of miracle to occur. Timothy had not been back out to give us an update on Sara's condition, and not hearing anything was driving me crazier than hearing bad news. The fear of the unknown had always been one of my greatest fears.
I had been resting with my head on my knees, my knees drawn up to my chest to relieve the ungodly pressure building up in my back from these miserable plastic chairs. The sound of Nick pacing around the waiting room had been ringing through my ears, irritating me to the point where I was ready to either yell at him to sit down and shut up or stick my fingers in my ears like Lindsey used to do when she was a child and didn't like what she was being told.
I looked up, though, as the awful noise stopped and the room once again grew silent. Nick was now standing at the window, staring out with tears glistening in his eyes. He and Sara were like brother and sister, they argued over petty things and always had to out-compete each other, but it was obvious they cared about each other very deeply. If I wasn't so emotionally exhausted, I would have walked over to him and tried to offer him some comfort.
Instead, I let my eyes wander around the rest of the room, a familiar sense of deja vu filling my soul. We had been in this same waiting room less than a year earlier, except that time Sara had been the one staring out the window while we waited to hear about Nick's condition. Of course, then, we knew he wasn't going to die, we were just waiting to see just how bad off he was. We had been anxious to see him, our hearts broken for everything he had gone through over a night-long ordeal. Then, it had been Warrick who was beating himself up the most, the person who needed to be reassured and comforted. Tonight, it was Grissom, the one person that was nearly impossible to comfort.
Grissom had spent a few minutes sitting across from me, listening to me repeat every single word Timothy had told me, then he had abruptly stood and walked over to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup of stale coffee and staring into the black liquid, slowly building up the wall that had began to crumble as I filled him in. A few moments later, his expression was unreadable, once again, and he sat down beside Greg, who had been the only man openly crying.
Greg had arrived in record time, leading me to wonder just how many laws he had broken to get him to the hospital so quickly. I filled him on what Timothy had told me, and as soon as I was finished, he disappeared for nearly half an hour. I assumed he wanted to be alone, but before the others arrived, he confided that he tracked down Timothy to grill him about Sara. Right then and there, I realized that Greg had grown up quite a bit. He was no longer the hyperactive, ridiculously funny lab tech that we had all labeled him as so many years ago. He was now one of us, able to march in and take charge, able to keep his head on straight until he had all of the facts. As he sat down on the opposite side of the room, I was able to see just how much he had grown up, his age was now visible on his face, lines of worry more readily visible on the face of someone who has seen destruction and devastation and has been able to push forward despite it. I was so proud of him for fighting for, and reaching, the goals he had set for himself. I had enough respect for him to pretend like I didn't see the tears staining his cheeks, like I didn't hear his quiet sniffles. He was doing the one thing I wouldn't allow myself to do in front of other people, cry.
Warrick had been the last one to join our group in the waiting room. Greg and Nick had been quick to jump on him and accuse him of not caring, but Grissom and I had both silenced them before they could say things they would later regret. We knew Warrick cared for Sara, despite the friction between them years ago when she first started working on our team. I was envious by their friendship, and at the same time, sickened. She had been brought in to investigate him. She investigated him later on that year. Yet, despite this, they had been able to create a steady, strong friendship, when she and I had been unable to.
After Nick and Greg cooled down a bit, Warrick revealed that he had been talking to his wife (it still pained me to call her that) and she was going to see what she could find out about Sara's condition. Greg and Nick uttered unemotional apologies for jumping on him, but Warrick waved them off and sat down next to me, the silence between the two of us comforting, whereas with the others it had been painful.
My thoughts were interrupted when a doctor walked over to us, a grim expression on his face. Looking at the clock, I realized Timothy was probably off by now. The doctor walked over to our group, and we all moved in together so we could listen, and interrogate, the man in front of us.
"Sara's condition is still deteriorating, although we've been able to slow down the tissue degeneration quite a bit." He began, and I felt the world tilt slightly, causing me to lean into Warrick for support. He wrapped an arm around me tightly, and I tried to focus on what the doctor was telling us, although his terminology was more complex than Timothy had used earlier.
What I understood, however, painted a bleak enough picture to know what was going on. Permanent tissue damage and scaring, internal bleeding, fever, shock. Once again, my legs gave way and I melted into the chair I had been sitting in for several hours already, my head buried in my hands. I hated myself for beginning to fall apart, I needed to be the strong one. I was supposed to be the detached one. We weren't even friends. I exhaled deeply, trying to control my emotions. Sara may not have been my friend, but she was part of our family. Part of our family that we may be about to lose.
I didn't notice when the doctor walked away, or when Warrick disappeared to find his wife to see if one of us could see Sara. I didn't notice Greg's hasty exit, or Nick begin to crumble. When I was finally able to focus, I was sitting across from Grissom, who held his face in his hands, suddenly looking twice his age.
"She's a fighter, Gil." I said in a voice that I could barely recognize, "She's going to be okay, if not only because she wants to nail the guy that did this to her. Sara doesn't give up."
He looked up at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen, and my heart broke. He may not show his emotions often, but when he does, they are remarkable. I could see straight into his soul at this moment, and all I was able to see was a wounded, broken little boy, lost and frightened. I shakily walked over to him, pulling him into a hug, surprised to see he didn't refuse. If he was crumbling already, I couldn't bear to imagine what he would be like if she didn't make it.
I held him for a few minutes, until Warrick's voice broke us apart, "Neil, from days, is here to bring back evidence collected from Sara."
"Call us when you know something, okay?" Grissom sternly asked the young CSI, "Your shift and my shift are working in conjunction on this case, don't leave us out of the loop."
"Of course, Mr. Grissom, as soon as we know something we'll give you a call."
A doctor walked back towards us with a brown paper bag, holding everything we had requested on Sara. Handing it to Neil, I gave him one of my 'death glares' as Warrick calls them, and remind him again to call us as soon as he knows something. He hurried away, probably scared by the no-nonsense vibes Grissom and I were sending him, and when I looked at Grissom again, he had carefully restructured the wall that keeps the rest of us away from him. Fighting fresh tears, I stood and walked over to the window, staring down over the busy streets of Las Vegas. It was supposed to be a city of glamour, lights, money, alcohol, and a constant party. When did I start looking at my city as a place where people are robbed, raped, and murdered? Where danger looks on every corner, behind every bush?
I looked at my watch, cursing softly, "I need to go home and have breakfast with Lindsey." I said to Grissom, "I promised her I would."
I hated myself for leaving Sara and the rest of my team when we desperately needed to be together. I hated myself for wanting to stay instead of spending time with my daughter. I hated myself for actually contemplating staying. Shaking my head, I grabbed my purse and tiredly walked towards the elevator. I was exhausted, it's so much more emotionally trying when you know the victim, when you care for them. A few strong cups of coffee, an hour with Lindsey, and then I'd come back a new woman, ready to be tough, ready to be the strength for our team. Right now, I was useless.
I walked towards the elevator with a sense of foreboding in the pit of my stomach, and I feared I was making the wrong choice. Brushing it off as paranoia, I made my way towards the elevator, praying I wouldn't get a phone call saying my colleague had passed away, praying that I'd wake up to find this just a dream, not a real-life nightmare.
What I didn't expect was to get a phone call halfway home. Fear seized my insides as I fumbled with my cell phone, "Willows."
"Potassium Arsenate."
"Excuse me?" I asked, my mind trying to decipher what Grissom was talking about.
"Potassium Arsenate. That is what Sara ingested. I want you to get me all of the information you can find on it, ASAP."
Before he even finished his instructions, I had turned my car around and backtracked towards the lab. I could have breakfast with Lindsey tomorrow, or even dinner with her tonight. Right now, my other family needed me. Hanging up with Grissom, I called my mother to let her know I wouldn't be able to make it home. By the time I reached the lab, the fatigue that had set in was now a distant memory, and by the time I loaded up the books in my car, I finally felt like we were getting somewhere. We may not know who hurt her, but if we knew what he hurt her with, it was a step closer to getting the answers we needed.
TBC
