Forgot to mention earlier, but this is set late fifth season.
"Look, I know you're tired, but we need to talk."
I shrugged. "Yeah, I was going to call you. Probably best this way, because you'll come closer to understanding where I'm coming from when I show you what the problem is. Come on in."
I gestured toward the sofa, then sat down next to her. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was tinged with hurt.
I shrugged. "Because if I had, you would've wanted to know why, and I wasn't ready to talk about it."
"I hope you know you can tell me anything. I'm not going to think less of you whatever the problem is."
I sighed. "Maybe not LESS, but you won't see me the same way, that's for sure." Her eyes widened as I shrugged off the baggy green scrub top. "It's kind of hard to look at." I turned my back to her, and my eyes watered at her gasp. She may have seen something that day in the shower, but now I knew she sure as HELL hadn't seen everything. "I needed the money for reconstructive surgery. You can see the problem on the right shoulder. The hyperterophic scar tissue is shrinking, pulling my shoulder up and back toward my neck and the center of my back. They're going to have to stretch out the skin on the front and pull back a flap of it for the repair." I flinched at the unexpected touch of her cool hand on my skin. Lightly she traced from shoulder to mid-back, around and then back up again, outlining for herself the affected area.
"But you have insurance."
I shook my head. "Plastic surgery is very expensive, especially when it's this extensive. Even with insurance paying 80 percent my share is going to be huge. I guess now you know why I don't date much any more." I turned around and grabbed my shirt. "It's never going to look anything close to normal, but hopefully the surgery will correct the worst of it. Right now I'm more bothered by how it feels than how it looks. It hurts, and I'm going to be walking like a lopsided Lurch if it gets much worse."
"How close are you?"
"I'm still about a thousand short. I'm working one or two shifts a week at the hospital, so hopefully in another month or so I'll have what I need for it."
Sara sighed. "It's not fair. You got hurt through no fault of your own, and now you're having to work two jobs to pay to have surgery to repair the effects of something that happened at work - and all while they're screwing you by not paying you for yout overtime. I'm talking to Grissom. Worker's comp should be paying for this, and for your lost time while you're out afterwards."
I shook my head. "It won't. Ecklie said - "
"FUCK Ecklie!" Sara's eyes were blazing. "Ecklie is full of shit! You deserve better than this! If this had happened to Catherine, you can bet your ass the lab would make sure her every expense was covered by worker's comp. Instead SHE caused the damned explosion that almost killed you, and she's going about her life like nothing happened while you're working a second job in pain so that you can have surgery to repair what her carelessness caused."
"Whoah, Sara. Calm down. It's not that big a deal."
"Yes it is. I am tired of watching you get treated like some kind of second-class flunkie and knowing it's because... because of me. No, Greg, you listen. Ecklie HATES me. He couldn't get rid of me so now he's taking it out on you."
"Sara, I don't think that has anything -"
"Yes, Greg, it does. I've been walking the fine line he thought I couldn't, so now since he can't get me he's going to take it out on the person I love - oh, shit..."
Silence loomed between us for several seconds. "Um, Sara, did you just say what I think you said?"