Thanks again for all the reviews - I'm slightly overwhelmed, as I'm not used to this many - thanks everyone!
Sara2006- Greetings to Germany! I go there quite regularly as I'm studying German, and I love it!
Beckster - I do appreciate you, really!
stareagle - Thank you so much for the constructive criticism, it really helps. I can completely see where you're coming from and Ithink you may well be right. Really what happened was that when I wrote, that's just how it turned out! However,I do totally agree about Brass feeling guilty, as you will see in this chapter, hopefully!
Enjoy, I hope...
Em x
Sara felt as though she was watching herself from a distance. As her eyes flickered open she felt totally detached from her body. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Her heart began to race as she noted a crowd of paramedics talking to each other in front of the car. She tried to look down but a brace around her neck prevented her from doing so. Her eyes flicked right. The car door had been removed. Left. Brass was not there. She forced a low moan from her throat. In an instant a woman's head appeared at the door.
"Sara?" she said, a tone of urgency underpinning her voice. "Can you hear me?"
"Brass," was the first name that Sara could think off.
"Captain Brass has gone to hospital. He's going to be fine." Relief washed over Sara. The paramedic reached out for her hand and gently lifted it, feeling her pulse. "I'd like you to keep as still as possible for me, Sara. We're going to get you out of here as soon as possible."
"What's wrong?" Sara whispered hoarsely. "I can't feel my body."
The woman smiled reassuringly. "We gave you some drugs, Sara. If you can't feel anything, that's normal."
A memory of looking down earlier hit Sara; there had been so much blood. "My leg-" she asked desperately.
The paramedic's smile faltered, but only for a moment. "You'll be in hospital before you know it."
It did not escape Sara's notice that she did not answer her question.
I I I I I
Grissom watched the ambulance drive away, safe in the knowledge that Jim Brass was fine, save a nasty bang on the head which could cause mild concussion. He had been asked to leave the scene; his status as a CSI gained him no special allowance, as this was not a crime scene yet. His obduracy, however, had proved more useful.
The departure of the ambulance marked the arrival of two fire trucks, sirens blazing. Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Grissom made his way slightly closer to the car. He could hear the hurried discussions of a group of paramedics standing just before it.
"She's conscious," one woman was saying.
"We can't do this without her knowing," said another. "Someone is going to have to tell her."
"Are we sure there's no other way?"
"Have you seen the mess the car has made of her leg? There's no saving it."
The confirmation of what Brass had said shocked Grissom; he felt a shiver run down his spine. The paramedics continued to talk.
"I should probably tell her," the woman who had spoken first suggested. "I'm the only person she has spoken to."
Grissom was not sure what took over him but he could not help but step forward.
"I'll tell her."
I I I I I
The woman paramedic appeared once again at Sara's right hand side. "There's someone here to see you," she said gently. "Is that alright?"
"Brass?"
"No, Sara." The male voice flooded warmth into Sara's body despite the fact she had been shivering moments ago for some inexplicable reason considering the day's heat. "It's me." Grissom's body replaced that of the paramedic.
"Grissom?"
Sara's struggle to speak upset Grissom but he tried not to let it show in his face. "Hi, honey."
"What – are – you -?"
Grissom pressed a finger gently to Sara's lips. In any other situation it would have seemed odd, but right now it felt totally natural. "Don't try to speak. I saw Jim. He's gone to hospital but he's going to be absolutely fine. So don't you worry about that."
A brief smile darted across Sara's lips but the effort of moving her mouth was both mildly painful and exhausting. Grissom continued to talk.
"You're the priority now. You may have heard the fire trucks just arriving. The car got a pretty bad bashing to it. And so did you, I'm afraid." He stopped for a second and smiled grimly. "Who am I kidding? You know that better than anyone." The attempt at humour was awkward and he immediately regretted it. He took a deep breath and struggled to decide how to word what he had to say next. "Your leg, Sara," he began. As he went on, silent tears began to run down Sara's cheeks. She could not lift her hands to wipe them away and so they simply ran down her face, eventually meeting the neck brace which was holding her head upright. Grissom could hardly bear to watch. Eventually he was forced to leave Sara's side and move away from the car. The sounds of equipment cutting its way into the car broke his heart but he did not allow himself to look around.
I I I I I
Grissom drove himself to the hospital of his own accord. When there he made a quick phone call to Catherine Willows to let her know what was going on and to ask her to make sure those people who needed to be told were done so. He then visited the hospital canteen and bought himself a cup of coffee which he stirred until it had gone cold before leaving it on the table untouched. He opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator from the first floor canteen to the seventh floor where Brass was in a ward. He needed desperately to keep himself occupied. Sitting and waiting was not an option as it allowed far too many thoughts to creep into his brain, which was already full with the horrible image of Sara's tears as he had told her that her life was never going to be the same again.
Brass was sitting upright on his bed when Grissom spotted him. "Gil," he called out. "How's Sara?"
Evidently the two men had in common the only thing on their minds. "She's in theatre." Silence descended on the colleagues for a moment before Grissom could bear it no longer. "How are you feeling?"
"I had a headache but they've loaded me full of painkillers. They wanted to keep me over night so they could watch for concussion but I've persuaded them otherwise. A couple of hours and I should be free."
"You got lucky." Grissom honestly had not meant to sound aggressive or accusatory but he immediately regretted his words as he saw a shadow fall across Brass' face.
"I wish I hadn't. It should be me in theatre, Gil. Not Sara. She shouldn't have been there."
"You can't blame yourself, Jim."
"Of course I can. It was me who talked Sara into taking a ride home. It was me who agreed on a car chase even though I had a civilian in the car. It was me who crashed the car!"
"You can't class Sara as a civilian. She knew what the risks were. She knows the job as well as you do."
"She was off duty, Gil. Unarmed. Unprepared. She should not have been in that car but I put her there." His eyes were filling now and Grissom could see him struggling to keep control.
"Whatever happens, Jim, promise me you will not blame yourself. This is not your doing. It is a horrific accident. You have to remember that."
"I wish it were that simple."