Hey hey. Here's the next part. Thanks for the suggestions I'll keep it in mind.

I don't own CSI

Again I apologise in advance for any medical mistakes I may make.

1986

"I'm sorry Sara. I should have explained it to you better." Dr Williamson looked at her sadly as she reached over and took her hand .

"Its okay." Sara's voice was scratchy as she spoke, her throat raw from coughing. The begginings of another round with the PCP. "Would the drugs work...if I could get them?"

"I don't know for sure, but yes, they might. Only the problem is that I can't get you into any current trials becuase of the PCP, and even if I could there is no guarrantee that you would get the drugs this time around either." Her voice was soft, calm and matter of fact. She didn't want to confuse Sara. Or give her false hope.

She was getting attatched to her patient. Bad move.

So far she had treated all of the pediactric AIDS cases that had come into the hospital. There hadn't been many but of the ones there were, most of them were young boys with hemophilia, who had become infected through contaminated blood products. She'd treated one baby who had become infected in her mothers womb. With all of those cases however she had spoken mostly with the parents, not having any real personal contact withher youngpatients. This was the first time she'd had to disscuss things like HIV, AIDS, PCP, treatment, and drug trials directly with a child. The first time she had nothing more to say then 'I don't know what to do' to a child.It was taking it's toll on her. She wasn't sleeping well, and was picking fights with her husband. Last night they had argued over how long to cook peas for, of all the things they could have been concerned about. Peas. Sara's condition was getting worse, she'd gotten ahold of her blood work this morning. Her viral load was increasing and CD4 count was dropping, she was losing hope.

"So what now?" Sara, however wasn't, she seemed to be taking it one battle at a time. I have to swollow these pills now. I have to take another breath now. Dr Williamson tried to keep her own spirits up as high as Sara's. She stood up as she spoke.

"Now we get rid of that cough." She said with confidence she did not feel. Maybe Sara saw straight through it, but for now, it was all she could manage. I have to check on some other patients, I'll come check on you soon."

"Ok." Sara watched her as she left the room, just as she got to the door she said, "Dr Williamson,"

"Yes?" She turned around.

"What's your first name?" The question took her by surprise. She usually didn't give her fist name to patients, or their parents. To personal.

"Joanne." Bad move girl."You can call me Joey." Sara laughed a little. "Joey's my social workers name." Joanne raised her eyebrows and gave Sara an amused grin.

"It must be a good name then." Sara giggled as she left the room.

Sara's latest bout of PCP had dragged itself out for nearly a month. There were several nights when it reached its peak that her doctors thought she wouldn't make it. Dr Williamson had prepared for the worst. But the worst hadn't come. Sara had again survived the infection, and with no signs of getting ahold of AZT, she had started Sara on another antiviral drug. It had made her very sick, it wasn't designed for tiny, sick fifteen year olds. She'd had to take Sara off the drug so that she didn't kill her with it.

Sara spent the following months hooked up to IV's and swollowing pills. Some times it was a drug that did nothing, sometimes one that made her throw up all night. Sometimes it was a blood transfusion. On one occasion it was penicillian for a chest infection she had picked up. She had done all this in an isolation ward. She was currently the only child in the hospital with AIDS and had been in the pediatric ward. Some of the parents however,had kicked up a stink when they found out that their precious little Jane or Johnny was in the same ward as a child with AIDS "What if my son gets it! Well! What are yougonna do then?" Joanne wanted to put her with the adult AIDS patients, thinking that seeing other people going through the same thing she was going through would do her some good. Her plan had been shut down however, by hospital officials telling her that it was against hospital policy to put minors in with adults. So instead she had her moved to an isolation ward. This ment that no-one could enter without the appropriate protection. This ment masks and gloves.

So Sara had spent her time alone in a little room tucked away in the corner of the hospital counting the needles that went into her body and the lesions that appeared on the surface of it.She had a rather large one on her collar bone that she hadn't been able to see and hence hadn't known was there until Dr Williamson had pointed it out. It now poked out over the top of her gown. She had become very good at deciphering the muffled speech produced by thesurgical masks.She looked forward to the days when Joseph would bring Ashley to visit her. That would talk of silly things, the rumours Ashley had heard about some of the girls at Sara's school. Who fell over in the cafetieria at riverwood and landed face-first in her oatmeal. Sara would tell Ashley stories of creepy pateints who walked the halls. Like the guy from the psyc ward, Scotty, who always managed to sneak out and would wander the halls at night reciting bible verse in a loud whisper. Ashley of course didn't believe her, but Sara would watch her peer down the hall discretly everytime she left, just in case. Ashley would always take her mask of everytime that they were alone, it messed up her blue lipstick. They would giggle every time she rushed to put it back on when they heard someone coming.

"Ashley." Sara said one day her voice, nervous and worried.

"Yeah." Ashley looked at her, concern in her eyes.

"I need to ask you something, and I need you to be compleatly honest with me. Deal?" Ashley was scared Sara was never so heavy.

"Deal?" She took Sara's hand. "Whats wrong?"

"Why blue?" Blue? What did that mean. Oh god. She had heard about AIDS patients developing dementia. Was Sara losing it?

"What do you mean Sara?"

"Blue is an awful colour for lipstick." Sara started to giggle. "Why did you pick blue?" Ashley buried her head in both hands for looking at Sara and smacking her gently on the shoulder. Sara's giggling got worse, and it was catching. In moments they were in hysterics.

"I swear to god your gonna pay for that! Oh my god you scared the hell outta me! I thought you werelosing it!"

"I'm sorry." Sara said thought her laughter.

"No your not. But you know what I'll forgive you anyway." Ashley tried unsucsessfully to stop smiling as she spoke. "I'm still gonna get you back. You better watch it girl"

"Sure I'll do that."

"You know what I know what I'm gonna do to." Ashley eyes took on a mishievousgleam.

"What, what are you gonna do." Sara said sarcastically

"I'm gonna call you Scotty."

"No no no no not the creepy bible guy. Please." Sara's voice lost the sarcasm and took on, a begging quality. Ashley thought it was cute.

"Oh it's perfect." She looked up as if she'd just had a wonderful revelation. A huge grin crept across her face. "I love it. Scotty." Sara just glared at her.

"I bet you forget about it within a week."

"Are you pouting Scotty?"

"No." Ashley laughed. Sara just shook her head.

"Can I ask you something?" She stopped laughing.

"Oh no you don't!"

"No no. I'm serious Sara." Sara gave her a wary look.

"Okay..."

"Can you get HIV throught saliva?"

"No. Why?" Sara's question was answered when Ashley lowered her mask and placed a soft kiss on her lips. She watched Sara for a moment, then,

"Oh god." She covered her face and turned away "Oh god I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. I'm Sorry. I should go."

"Hey hey. No wait." Sara reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her "I...why did...ah...do that again."

"W..what?" Sara pulled her closer. Ashley hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her again.

"Now you can go. But you better come back." Sara smiled.

"I will." Ashley left the room.

Joanne Williamson sat on a bench just outside the hospital sipping coffee. She was on a break. It was just after two in the morning, the streets near the hospital were eerily quiet. You could circle the entire block the hospital sat on and not see a single person outside the building. Of the people you did see most were employees in side the building, security guards mostly ,but other night shift employees were around, they'd pass by a window, a clipboard or a file in hand. In fact the only time you would see anyone who wasn't an employee was when you passed by the emergency room entrance. There would be people sitting in chairs, holding bloody towels to a broken and bloody nose, parents rubbing a sick childs back, people consoling each other. At random intervals an ambulance would leave or return. Joanne stayed away from that part of the hospital though. She enjoyed her breaks at this time of night.

She watched as the first car she seen since she'd been out here drove past. Well she thought it would drive past. What in fact happened was that the car pulled up and parked alongside the curb. It was rusty, very old and looked as though it had once been white. Both passenger and drivers side doors opened but only one man stepped out. He looked young, but Joanne was sitting a fair distance away and couldn't be sure. He opened the back seat door and removed a wheelchair that had been wedged in there. It looked suscpicously like the ones that the hospital used. Finally the man in the passenger seat stepped out, his companion had to assist him, and once he got his friend in the chair he pushed him towards the hospital. As they got closer the guy in the chair pointed to Joanne and turned to say something to his friend, he seemed excited. They diverted directly towards her. She got nevous, there were no security guards around and the men were to close for her to make a quick and unnoticed exit. They stopped directly in front of her. She realised that the boy in the chair was only 18 or 19, and that he was very sick.

"Do you...have a...a patient named...Sara Sidle?" He really didn't seem to be asking, just checking.

"I can't tell you that." Joanne spoke firmly.

"Thats ok...If you...do or...if you...know" He started coughing. A cough that she knew well." If you ...know..her doctor...can you take this...please." He held out an old black gym bag. The minimal strain on the straps indicated that it was not heavy but the boy struggled with the weight. She didn't really know why she did it, but she took the bag immediatly.

"What is it?" Joanne asked.

"If...she's as...sick as I am...she needs it." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a folded peice of paper. "Please give...her this."

"Ok" Was all Joanne could say, she took the paper. And with that he left. She waited until he got into the car with his friend before she opened the bag. She didn't know why she hadn't pressed him for more information. Maybe because she already knew what would be in there, and the means by which it had been aquired. There in reused glass jam jars were pills, hundreds of them. She had no way to be sure. But she knew what they were. AZT.

So what do ya think?