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Gil sat stony-faced in the silence, his mind wandering and his heart racing painfully. The sounds of the hospital waiting room were muted to him, so it seemed that he was alone, lost in his own thoughts, never to escape. Sara was alive. She hadn't been killed, as was his worst fear. But the medics had declared sexual trauma, which nearly sent Gil over the edge. Someone had hurt his Sara. Someone had taken advantage of his beautiful Sara. And now, he was pissed. That someone was going to pay. After what seemed to be an eternity, but was only two hours, Gil heard his name.
"Dr. Grissom?"
His head shot up and he rose to his feet unsteadily. The doctor in the white lab coat gave him the once over, taking in his disheveled appearance and bloodshot eyes, before speaking.
"Sir, Miss Sidle is in a serious condition right now. She has a concussion, and as I'm sure you've heard, there are signs of sexual trauma. She has a few broken ribs, her left wrist is broken, as is her nose. But other than that, she's fine. She's awake and asking for you. You can see her if you'd like."
Gil looked around and was shocked to see the other members of the team staring at him. When had they come? It didn't matter now; Sara was awake. The team smiled in unison and nodded.
"Go on, Griss," Nick said. :
"Give her a kiss for me," Greg stated, then blushed when he realized what he'd said. Warrick just smiled, but Catherine stood and crossed the small room to stand beside Gil. Wrapping her arms around her shaking boss, she grinned tearfully.
"Let her know we're all here for her," she whispered, then patted his back. "Now go see her."
Gil followed the doctor mindlessly, through a labyrinth of corridors until, finally, they reached Trauma Room 9. The doctor stopped, and then held a hand out to prevent Gil from entering.
"I just want you to be prepared for what you're going to see. She's on heavy pain medications for her wrist, and there's a lot of wires everywhere, monitoring her condition. She's black and blue, and her right eye is swollen shut."
After saying this, the doctor lowered his hand and allowed Gil to pass. Stepping into the dim room, Gil realized what the doctor had been saying. She was a mess, in more ways than one. Her left hand, from fingertips to elbow, was in a cast, which was a dull grey. Her eye was swollen shut, and her nose was almost twice its size. She looked as though she were sleeping. Turning on his heel, he went to leave.
"Griss?"
Her voice was soft, and for a moment, Gil thought that he'd imagined it. But then, she whispered again. Turning back to face her, he was happy to see her awake, and nearly jumped for joy. Rushing to her bedside, he gingerly took her right hand in his.
"Sara? Can you hear me?"
She was silent for a moment before stating, "I'm injured, Griss. Not deaf."
He couldn't help but laugh at that one. It was such a smart-ass comment that he had to smile. It was so like her to say something like that. She seemed to sense his joy, and let her self crack a smile. But then, slowly, the smile faded.
"Griss, what'd he do to me? No one would tell me. I mean, I know the physical aspects, but did he…"
Her voice trailed off, and Gil swallowed before answering.
"Sweetie, there was nothing you could have done. You did your best, and youneed to understandthat."
She shook her head violently, wincing as she did so.
"Griss, damn it, you know what I'm asking!Did he…"
"Yes."
Gil held her as she cried.
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