Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them. Wish I did, but I don't. Que Sera Sera
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Love Don't Live Here No More
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I honestly don't know what happened. The last thing I remember was Sara and I having an argument; our first real argument. It was a big one, in which she accused me of cheating on her. I know what it feels like when your partner finds love or sexual satisfaction in the arms of another, so needless to say I'd never stray from the woman I love. I remember thinking to myself that no one else could ever give me what I get when I'm with her. She's my light, my other half and, I'm certain, my soul mate.
After about 30 minutes of her hurling accusations at me and me trying to reassure her that she's the only woman in my life, she stormed out of our house and jumped behind the wheel of her little car. She floored it out of the drive and down the street. I stood on the front porch and watched, with broken heart, as she put as much distance between me and herself. I was tempted to call her cell and tell her that I love her and would never do anything to jeopardize what we have, but decided against it. I'd let her have some time to cool off. I thought that would be best, considering her propensity for grudge holding and preservation. In the meantime I cleaned up inside, putting things in order. I had no idea how animated and physical she could be when she was truly pissed off. There were magazines and books all over the floor and pillows that had been launched at me.
About half an hour later I still cleaning when the house phone went off. Trying to find it, as that had been tossed as well, I located the handset on the far side of the living room, under the couch. On my hands and knees, I reached out for it and on it's last ring I answered it. On the other end was Grissom telling me to meet him on the corner of Westphall and Main Street. He didn't elaborate, but it didn't strike me as terribly odd.
Climbing into my car, I headed off for downtown and as I approached the intersection I could see lights and hear sirens. My heart began to race and as I stopped my car and jumped out I could see what looked like a little silver car that looked as if it had been pancaked at a junkyard. Seeing Grissom kneeling beside the driver's door of the car that was on it's roof, I recognized the license plate on the car and picked up my pace, sprinting my way through all the rescue people and lookie-loos. My heart dropped to my stomach when I heard his words to the driver. A little closer now, I could see that it was Sara that he was talking to. He was telling her to hold on and that the firefighters would have her out soon. All of a sudden he turned round' and stood up, trying to hold me back from getting to her. I simply swept him aside and dropped to my knees beside her and seeing her, I began to tear. She was a mess. She had a large laceration to her forehead and her left arm was visibly disfigured. On the inside roof of the small car was a large pool of blood and as I knelt there, beside her, I could tell she was in trouble. She was drifting in and out of consciousness and just as the driver's door was pried open and she was extricated, her eyes fluttered closed and her head lolled to the side, resting on the left. She was bleeding quarts and the full view of her head and facial trauma became evident. Not only was there the big gash on her forehead, but there were also numerous cuts and scrapes, some of which had glass in them. The medics stabilized her head and placed her on a backboard, then on a stretcher and into the back of the bus that was waiting to take her to hospital. I watched as the bus sped off, sirens blaring, in the direction of Desert Palm.
From that point on things were kind of a blur. The next thing I remember was sitting in chairs at hospital, waiting for a doctor to come by and give us Sara's prognosis. It was a good hour and a half before a tall, silver haired man entered the family waiting room and told us what was what. By that time Nick, Warrick and Greg had already arrived and were visibly shaken. Greg was pacing, Warrick was seated, leaning forward with his head in his hands and Nock was trying to cajole one of the nurses into providing any amount of information she could. But as I sat there, Grissom beside me, the doctor relayed all the pertinent poop, as it were. Apparently things were far worse than they looked. We knew about Sara's external wounds but nothing about her internal damage. From the doctor we learned that she had several broken ribs, a collapsed lung, her spleen had to be removed and her beast plate had fractured in several places from her chest slamming into the steering wheel which had been pushed up and forward, steering column and all. She also, needless to say, had a skull fracture that had caused some swelling and bleeding in the brain. All in all she was in pretty bad shape.
I sat and stared as the doctor spoke, hearing his words but they didn't quite register, save for when he said that she was in bad shape. They had done all they could do and now they were in the "wait and see" phase of things. Creating no illusions, the doctor stated that it would be a miracle if Sara made it through the night. At that point I jumped up and asked to see her. As we walked down the corridors to her bed in the ICU, I prepared myself for the worst. Peeling the curtain back, the doc told me not to expect too much, as she was heavily sedated and most certainly wouldn't wake up any time soon. Closing the curtain behind me, I pulled a chair up to her bedside and seeing her in the state she was in, I wept.
So many thoughts were running through my head at that point that I found it difficult to settle down and compose myself. Maybe if we hadn't argued she wouldn't be there then. If we hadn't argued she'd still be home with me and we'd be cozy on the couch with no worries. But as it was, we were in hospital, me weeping and she clinging to the life that was left inside her. Finally, after a few minutes, I calmed down enough to take her hand and hold it in mine, kissing the back of it, careful not to jostle the IV that had been established there.
In the middle of my promises that we'd never fight again and that whatever it took, I'd do anything to make things right, one of her monitors began to sound and her BP and heart rate went way down. I watched, holding my breath as she flat lined. Jumping up and shouting down the hall that I needed a doctor or nurse, I could see the guys; Nick, Warrick, Greg and Grissom, come running in my direction. By the time they got to me the nurse and doctor were trying to resuscitate her. After five minutes of shocking her and a couple injections of atropine she coded.
All we could do was stand there and stare as the hospital staff tried their best, but evidently it was too little, too late.
She was pronounced at 03:00hrs.
I loved her so much. Maybe I loved her too much; if that's possible. Her passing will be exceptionally hard on me, as I was going to propose marriage to her tonight, that is if we hadn't argued. How am I to go on, now? She was, I know, the love of my life. I loved her like I've loved no other. But now there's no love. Now there's regret, sorrow and a strong feeling of nausea. We had plans. We were going to start a family and move away from the craziness of the downtown area. We'd been house hunting and browsing for baby stuff. But as I said, now there's none of that. I'll never fall asleep with her in my arms, rest my head in her lap or share those slight touches at the lab again.
Pain, anger, frustration, futility………………I feel them all. But all I know now is that love don't live here no more.