A/N: Finally back. Again, apologies for the delay. New job is gonna be pretty crazy for most of this year plus trying to get IAFU finished is leaving me with not as much time as I'd like so I thank you for your patience.

So, time for Sara to go into surgery, will it be a success? Can Grissom keep it together?

Thank you to calim for the beta, as always and to all of you that continue to read :)

On we go…

Chapter 9

A quiet knock at the opened door caused Grissom to look over his shoulder to see Catherine standing there.

Talk about timing.

"Be right back," Grissom said to Sara, heading towards his friend.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hi," he replied.

"How is she?"

Grissom took a breath. "She has an infection but they are treating it. About to take her to surgery."

Catherine nodded but could see the anxiety on Grissom's face. "Are you okay?"

Sighing, he shrugged. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," she said softly.

"Can you take Mike? I want to be with Sara until the last minute but she doesn't think it's a good idea to take Mike down there. I won't be long."

She smiled at him. "I can do that. There's a park across the street. I can take him over there and you can come find us when you're ready, okay?"

He smiled back. "Thanks."

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Grissom hung onto Sara's hand as they pushed her bed down the corridor, smiling down at her. It was too soon for him when they came to a stop outside the double doors that led into the surgical ward, the orderlies setting the bed's brakes before stepping away. He glanced over toward Steven.

"I'll give you a minute," he said softly. "Then we need to take her."

Swallowing hard, Grissom nodded, turning back to his wife as the doctor stepped back to allow them some privacy.

Sara looked at him and smiled weakly. "Wish me luck?"

Leaning close, he placed a soft kiss on her lips, feeling the sting of tears burning his eyes. "You don't need luck," he whispered. "Everything will be fine and you'll be up and skipping faster than you know it."

She snorted. "You'll…have me in…pigtails next."

He smiled even if just for her sake. "Now there's an idea."

"I love you."

Grissom nodded. "I love you, too, and I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Then…I'll see you soon."

A short nod preceded him kissing Sara one more time before looking over his shoulder at Steven.

"Ready?" the doctor asked.

"Yeah," Grissom replied and the doctor waved towards the orderlies who swiftly returned and wheeled Sara through the doors.

Dropping a hand to Grissom's shoulder, Steven smiled. "Think positive. She'll need that from you when she's done."

"I'll try," Grissom said quietly.

"I'll call you when she's out, okay? If you're not around that is."

Blowing out a breath, Grissom looked up and down the corridor. "I won't be too far away."

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Hands in his pockets, Grissom wandered around the hospital, lost in thought, before heading out toward the park. Crossing the street, he entered the park spotting Catherine sitting on a bench, a big smile on her face. Turning to see what she was looking at he saw Michael ducking in and out of the swings, his laugh filling the air. It made Grissom smile.

Catherine looked up as he sat beside her. "You okay?" she asked softly.

Keeping his eyes on Michael, he slowly nodded. "I'm just praying it goes well."

She took his hand and he looked her way. "It will," she said positively.

He nodded again, sighing as he glanced back at his son who soon spotted him and came scampering his way.

"Have you decided what you want to do about Michael?" she asked him.

Grissom bit down on his lip. "I'd love him to stay with me," he replied. "But I don't know if that's the right thing to do. It will be so hard to keep him occupied and it's not the best place for a two year old is it?"

"Then you do know what to do," she urged.

"Daddy!" Michael shouted, happily catching his father's attention and grabbing his legs.

Grissom smiled at him. "Having fun?"

"Yes," Michael said happily. "Push me?" He pointed. "Swing."

"Umm…I can try," Grissom answered skeptically knowing that that could be a challenge with his hurt ribs

"Come on," Catherine urged. "You can give it a go and, if you struggle, then I can step in."

Laughing as Michael grabbed his hand and tugged him up, the trio headed for the swings.

"When will mommy be back?" Michael asked as they walked.

"She hasn't gone anywhere," Grissom said. "The doctors are just trying to make her better and they need to do that in private."

Michael looked up at his father. "We see her soon then?"

Grissom nodded. "Sometime later."

Catherine helped Michael up into the swing, ensuring he was secure in the basket.

Clapping his hands, he kicked out his legs. "Push!" he shouted.

"You're so demanding," Grissom chuckled, grabbing the basket and giving it a push, thankful he could manage it. "I'm going to go and see the twins when we're done here. Do you want to come?" he said to Catherine.

Smiling at him, she nodded. "Sure. Then I'll make a few calls and we'll work out something for Michael, okay? Between me, Mom and the guys, we can look after him and get him back here every day."

Frowning now, Grissom gave the swing a harder push. "What guys exactly?"

She snorted. "Don't worry, I won't be dropping him off with Hodges or something. But he's fine with Nick, Greg and Jim. He can stay with Mom every night but she won't always be able to bring him here. I just need to work out a schedule."

"Are you sure you don't mind doing all that?"

"Of course not," she clarified. "This is the best thing for him."

Sighing, Grissom gave the swing another push. "I guess."

"Plus, it's not for long. Claire will be back soon and then things will settle down."

Grissom nodded. He couldn't wait until their nanny returned from Europe. She'd always been good with Michael and would be an immense help to them.

"Higher, Daddy," Michael requested.

"Yes, boss," Grissom joked, taking hold of the swing again and giving it the hardest push he could muster.

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Play time over, they headed back into the hospital and towards the NICU. Michael was as excited to see the babies as Grissom was and reminded his father that they still hadn't decided on names.

"Can't keep calling babies, babies, Daddy," he pointed out. "That's just silly. Need a name. Like me."

Both Grissom and Catherine laughed at his insistent tone as they walked down the corridor but that quickly stopped when they heard an alarm sound ahead of them. Medical staff dashed inside the area where the babies were and Grissom's heart thundered in his ears. His pace increased until he was reaching for the door, a nurse appearing out of nowhere to keep him from entering the room.

"No, no," she said swiftly, gently pushing him back. "You can't go in there just now."

"What's happening?" he begged, moving to the window to see a crowd around his son's incubator, the top open.

Catherine took Michael's hand and joined him, instant shock hitting her face.

"I don't have many details just now," the nurse said sympathetically. "But I promise when news comes, you'll have it."

Grissom looked at her through tearful eyes, finding it hard to catch his breath. Slowly, he turned and pressed his hand against the glass. All he could do right then was watch and wait.

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Grissom paced back and forth in front of Catherine and Michael, never moving far from the window so he could see into his babies' room. How could this be happening? How could any of this be happening?

His head shot up when the door opened and staff began filing out. Peering through the window, there were only two nurses near his son's incubator and woman in a white lab coat. Soon she was looking at him. He swallowed hard as she exited the room and came his way.

"Mr. Grissom? I'm Jane Cole, regular Neonatologist caring for your twins."

"Gil," Grissom whispered shakily. "What's happening?" he whimpered. "Is…" he paused, mouth stuck open, words failing him.

Noticing Catherine, the doctor held out a hand. "Why don't we sit?"

Grissom seemed glued to the spot so Catherine got up and took his arm.

"Sit down," she urged, guiding him to the chair next to Michael as Jane sat beside him.

"Is he okay?" Grissom whimpered.

"We suspect your son is suffering from PDA," Jane answered. Grissom frowned.

"What's that?" Catherine asked.

"Patent Ductus Arteriosus," Jane continued.

Catherine's eyebrows soared. "Meaning?"

Inhaling deeply, Grissom felt his fingers digging deeply into his knees. "His heart stopped," he said so quietly the women only just heard him.

Jane slowly nodded. "That's correct."

Closing his eyes, Grissom tried to breathe, his heart feeling painful in his chest. But, considering the doctor had said 'suffering', it meant his son was still alive.

"So…," he began, eyes opening but again words seemed to fail him.

"We got his heart started again," Jane informed him. "He's stable."

He managed to swallow the golf ball sized lump in his throat at those two words but it was Michael trying to crawl into his lap that brought his focus back. He welcomed his son into his arms and gratefully accepted his hug.

"So what now?" Grissom asked. "Is this why he's been struggling with his breathing?"

"It's very possible," Jane admitted. "But PDA is much more difficult to spot with premature babies although they are more vulnerable."

Catherine blinked still feeling a bit in the dark. "What exactly is PDA?" she asked then looked to Grissom. "If you don't mind me asking?"

Grissom shook his head. He knew a little about it but the more information he could get the better.

Jane clasped her hands over her lap. "Patent ductus arteriosus is a heart problem. It occurs soon after birth in some babies. An abnormal blood flow develops between two of the major arteries connected to the heart. Before birth, the two major arteries - the aorta and the pulmonary artery are connected by a blood vessel called the ductus arteriosus. This vessel is an essential part of fetal blood flow and is supposed to close as part of the normal changes occurring in the baby's circulation. However, in this case we suspect the ductus arteriosus has remained open." The doctor cleared her throat. "And this is where we get complications. This can put a strain on the heart and the necessary blood the baby needs is not being circulated."

Grissom exhaled a heavy and warm breath. "So, what happens now? How treatable is this? Is he going to be okay?"

"Immediate tests are being organized," Jane continued, "so we can determine 100% if this is the issue and, if it is, what action we need to take. An EKG will determine if the vessel is still open and by how much and whether we can treat it with medication or not."

"And if you can't?" Grissom shot right back knowing his son was weak and skeptical that any medication would do any good.

"Surgery could be a possibility if medication fails."

Looking utterly stunned by that comment, Grissom tightened his arms around Michael. "Is he strong enough for that?" he gasped.

"If surgery is need then it must be done to close the vessel. But we won't rush into anything. There are options," she explained. "If the medicine doesn't work there is a procedure where a catheter is inserted into a large blood vessel in the upper thigh then guided into the heart. A small metal coil is then passed up through the catheter and placed in the PDA to block blood flow through the vessel. However, it could be difficult because of your son's small size.

Grissom's head spun. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Exchanging a concerned look with Jane, Catherine reached out to Michael. "Come over to me for a second," she urged, taking hold of him as he shifted over.

The second he did, Grissom got up on shaky legs and headed off down the corridor, his hand rubbing over his stubbly chin as nausea crept up his throat.

Catherine watched after him, surprised when he veered away from the restroom and vanished around the corner. "Where's he going?" she asked.

Shaking her head, Jane got up. "I'll find out," she said following him.

Heading for the main entrance, Grissom burst through the doors desperate for fresh air. Stumbling down the path, he leaned heavily against the rail then looked up at the sky. Inhaling several deep breaths to calm himself, his head still spun. He really didn't need a migraine right now.

"Gil?"

Grissom turned around to see Jane standing there, hands in her pockets looking concerned. "I'm okay," he mumbled unconvincingly. "Just a lot to take in at the moment."

"Very understandable," Jane agreed stepping closer. "I know how hard this must be."

"Do you?" he asked quickly cutting her off.

She stepped closer. "Even though it's what I do, my daughter was born premature. Almost eight weeks." Grissom frowned slightly. "She suffered from PDA, too."

"Oh," Grissom muttered, leaning against the rail. "What happened?"

"She needed surgery," Jane said without hesitation. "And I, just like you, was very scared. And I even knew every little detail about it."

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Grissom cleared his throat. "And?"

"She starts Kindergarten next week."

Grissom's eyebrows rose now. "So it worked?" he deduced.

Jane nodded. "Yes. We have excellent doctors here who will do the best for your son whatever that may turn out to be. And, believe it or not, complications from this surgery are very rare should we have to go down that road."

"Really?" Grissom squeaked as if he didn't believe that.

"Yes," Jane clarified positively.

Sighing, Grissom ran a hand through his hair. "How am I going to tell my wife? I don't even know if she could take this news."

"I would suggest you have a talk with Sara's doctor. He will help all he can but seeing what I can in your eyes, I don't think you're the type of man to keep this from her."

He shook his head. "I just don't know any more what type of man I am."

"How about for now you concentrate on being a good father?" Jane suggested softly. "Because there are three children in there that need you."

Biting down on his lip, Grissom tried to pull himself together although it wasn't easy but he nodded because she was right. If he gave up now what would his family do?

"Come on," Jane said, gesturing towards the door. "You can still step in and see your son. You just can't hold him right now."

"Okay," he whispered, sucking in his gut as a nervous tingle shot down his spine and they headed back inside.

Catherine did her best to keep Michael occupied and was currently pointing out the array of medical staff around them. Who was a doctor, nurse or orderly and what they did. Thankfully, he was quite fascinated but she was grateful when she spotted Grissom coming back their way. He smiled weakly upon reaching them.

"Because of the circumstances," Jane began, "access to the babies' room is limited for nonmedical staff at the moment as a precaution. We need to keep the risk of infection down. Give me a shout when you're ready."

Nodding his understanding as Jane stepped away, Grissom sat next to Catherine and tapped his lap, urging Michael to slide over. "Now," he began, rubbing his hand up Michael's back as he straddled his lap, "there's been a little change in plans for today, okay?"

Michael looked up at his father. "No babies?"

"No," Grissom confirmed. "Your little brother is sick so only Daddy is allowed to go in the room right now."

"Everybody sick," Michael sad sadly, dropping his head.

Softly sighing, Grissom looked at Catherine who smiled encouragingly at him. Slipping a finger under Michael's chin, he lifted. "Please don't be sad. Daddy needs you to help him be strong."

"Baby get better?" Michael asked.

"I sure hope so," Grissom answered. "And once he's feeling better you can go in and see him, okay?" Michael nodded. "But for now, how about you go with Aunt Catherine while daddy helps the doctors? Maybe you could go and get a present for mommy to give to her later when she wakes up."

Michael bucked up at that suggestion. "Ooohh…yes. Get mommy present."

"Maybe we can get you a new toy as well?" Catherine added.

Nodding furiously, Michael tugged on Grissom's shirt. "Can I, Daddy?"

With a smile, he nodded. "Just not something too loud, okay? If you bring it here, it will need to be quiet."

Holding a finger to his lips Michael began thinking of what he could get. "Okay, Daddy," he agreed. "We go now?"

"Is that okay?" Grissom asked, looking back at Catherine.

"Sure," she replied, holding out her hand to Michael and helping him off Grissom's lap. "Are you going to be okay?"

He let out a long breath then nodded. "Yeah. I could use a little time on my own right now."

"Do not be getting yourself down," Catherine warned.

"I'll try," he said quietly.

Her eyes narrowed but she left it at that for now. "I'll get Michael back by early evening. I'd think by then he'd be okay to see Sara."

"Okay," Grissom agreed. "Call me if you have any problems."

"And you," she said, softly poking him in the chest, "make sure you do the same."

A weak smile passed over his lips. "Scout's honor."

A/N: *Sniff*