Thereafter things happened of their own accord, like a rollercoaster without brakes. The one consolation of the whole affair was the kindness they received from the hospital staff, and from Dianne Curtis and Brass, who stayed solidly by their sides. After their arrival the truth about Sofia's injuries had quickly come out – aided by a full confession from Nick – and the medics had wasted no time in strapping her to a hospital bed, and putting her in braces. Sara, who was second on the doctor's priority list, left it to the others to explain about the history of her injuries, and had no time for anything but a brief parting kiss before she was led off to her own hospital bed, and found herself amongst a flock of doctors and nurses.
Their first priority was to get her changed out of her dirty clothes, and to that end she found herself sitting on the edge of the bed, a fresh hospital gown in her lap, a screech hitting her ears as the nurse drew the curtain across for privacy.
"Now, I'll just get you to change out of your things, love, put the gown on and then we'll take a look at you, okay?"
"Right," Sara said.
She tried her best to be cooperative, but the pleasant smile she gave may have accidentally come out as a grimace. The nurse momentarily leaving, she fingered the gown in her lap, and then sighed.
"You okay?"
She turned to see Grissom standing there – apparently he had taken the nurse's departure as a green light to enter himself, and he automatically reached to take the gown from her lap, seizing control in a manner which he knew she liked.
"Stand up."
He helped her to her feet, and then shook out the gown to unfold it. Sara was already slipping off her shoes, and answered his question as she nudged them aside.
"I'm okay," she said. "It's just …"
She trailed off.
"One thing at a time," he reminded her, offering her a small nod as if he understood perfectly.
"One thing at a time," she agreed, nodding.
He helped her off with the rest of her clothes, making quick work of both her shirt and bra, and then helped pull the gown down over her head and tie the straps at her back. Once done he sat her on the edge of the bed, and then crouched down to remove her socks – the last item.
"Just be truthful and let them help," he said. "If you start to feel anxious or panicky just tell the nurse to fetch one of us. I'll hang about 'til you're done."
"It may not be that quick," she said. "You know they'll want to do a full body exam, blood work and trauma counselling …"
"And we'll cooperate with all of it," he said, giving her a pointed look as if he half expected her to make a mad dash for the nearest exit. "I want everyone to just take a few hours and get the help they need. We could have a long road ahead."
"I know," Sara agreed.
She knew full well what was waiting for them, unlike the others. Whilst the physical wounds and bruises would heal the psychological ones would not fade immediately, if they ever faded at all. The aftermath of her ordeal as a child had taught her that, and she alone knew that the entire group needed urgent counselling, especially Sofia.
"I can handle it," she said.
"I'll stay until the exam's done."
He gave her hand a firm squeeze, and she saw in the depth of his gaze that his thoughts were still on their child, and the effects it had had on her. He must have also known that she was uncomfortable with the prospect of having a doctor's hand up her groin, as the nurse had barely returned before he informed her that Sara would need a female doctor, and that he would need a word with them before they examined her. Sara felt grateful for the reprieve from having to deliver the news on her condition herself – and that that meant all she had to do was lie back and tolerate the intrusive hand up her nether regions.
"I'll be just a few feet away with Jim," Grissom said, leaning in to peck her swiftly on the cheek. "Shout out if you need us."
Thinking faintly that she was unlikely to need Brass when she was in such a compromising position – her legs spread and knees raised – she nevertheless nodded, and he slipped out of the stall before the nurse could tell him off for lingering. Sara then had to deal with the mechanical aspects of the examination, and to distract herself, focused her mind on anything and everything that was happening outside of the curtain.
She heard Sofia in the stall next door, the voices wafting over the wall, the doctors hurling urgent instructions to each other as Dianne attempted to comfort her daughter, whispering loving sentiments into her face. Outside the curtain she could just make out Warrick a short way away, being escorted off for an exam himself, and then just feet away was Grissom, who as he had promised, stayed loyally and stubbornly within earshot.
As she braced herself for the approaching gloved hand she focused intently on his words, trying to make out the conversation.
"She doesn't need a kit, Jim," Grissom said firmly. "None of them do. There was no assault."
"Look, I'm not trying to be difficult but I have to be honest, okay?" Brass said quietly. "We saw how the girls were at the site, and Dianne says Sara was holding herself in the car, that she was in pain down there. If there's any evidence that we can still –"
"It's not rape," Grissom replied, sounding tired. "There's nothing PD needs to concern themselves with."
"So the pain, that was ..?"
"Private," Catherine said, intervening with a firm voice, and a with click of heels that sounded her arrival. "It's Sara's business."
There must have been a silent face off between the three of them, as the next few seconds passed in deadly silence before Catherine spoke again, now gentle.
"Look, no one was raped, I promise. I wouldn't lie to you about that."
"Then what's she afraid of?" Brass asked. "She looks terrified of men."
"She is," Catherine said. "And it got rough, I won't deny that. But there was no rape. The guys protected us."
"Thank God," Brass said.
He let out a deep breath, as if he was recovering from nine months' worth of painful wondering, and some of it must have shown on his face, as Catherine immediately moved to comfort him.
"It's okay. It's fine, all right? There's nothing to worry about."
He sighed. "I can't tell you how scared we all were. I mean, the sleepless nights, not knowing …" He drifted off, then added, "It got to all of us."
"I can imagine it did," Grissom offered.
There was a brief silence, then Brass said, "So what happened? Can you give us any inkling? PD thought you were kidnapped, but there were no tire treads, and I see you still have your guns. There's no ligature marks …"
"We were kidnapped but not in the way you think," Grissom said. "It was more complicated than that."
"Complicated?"
"Bizarre," Catherine clarified.
"We were trapped in the desert," Grissom explained, before Catherine could jump in. "When we woke up we were all sick and vomiting, there was no one else for miles. We were completely alone. We hiked for a while and found a house, but it was abandoned. We ended up staying there for most of the duration."
"So, what? You couldn't get out?"
"There were no phones," Catherine said. "We had to hike out old school. But when we tried…"
"It didn't end well," Grissom finished.
"You weren't alone out there," Brass concluded.
"I wish we had been," Grissom replied. "We had a few gun fights. We were lucky to get out alive."
"So, what? These thugs blocked your exit? Dumped you out there deliberately so they could toy with you like cat and mouse? Some kind of sick game?"
"That's just about it," Catherine said, with fake honesty. "But outside of that I don't think we have any answers for you."
"You get any IDs?"
"We didn't stick around for conversation," Grissom admitted. "It was a war zone."
"Bastards," Brass said, with an irritable sigh. "Dump you out where they know it's too far to walk back, and watch you struggle. I'm surprised they didn't kill you."
"I'm surprised every day I'm still alive," Catherine confessed.
"I don't think killing us was the objective," Grissom said.
Brass sighed again, then said, "So you said you were all vomiting, when you arrived. Is that all you remember? You don't remember a car, anyone else?"
"We remember nothing," Grissom confirmed. "About getting there or getting back."
"But you said you were sick," Brass said. "We'll have to get blood work, all your clothes."
"We'll cooperate with CSI if you want," Catherine offered. "But I don't think it'll tell you much."
"Well we'll give it a shot." He paused, then, "So you said you all woke up in the desert. Was Sofia there at the time, she with you?"
"We stumbled upon her a few hours later," Grissom said. He hesitated, as though with pain. "She was badly hurt, Jim."
"We found her on a hillside in the dark," Catherine added. "She was unconscious, bleeding, had bruises to most of her body."
"You think she'd been assaulted?"
"Not sexual assault," Catherine said, eager to clarify. "She still had all her clothes, she hadn't been meddled with. Sara and I checked. There was blood on a rock, we thought she'd fallen."
"And Nick said she was unconscious for a few days?"
"She was out for about 48 hours," Grissom said. "But she was sick for months. She had headaches."
Brass sighed, and for a moment Sara sensed Sofia's prognosis hanging over them, a question yet to be answered. But Sofia was being examined next door, had her mother with her, and for the moment there was nothing more they could do. The hospital would do extensive scans, and the results were still a time away.
"All right, listen," Brass said. "Get yourselves looked at and then we'll get CSI in here. We're going to need blood, tox, photos, nail scrapings, the works. That okay?"
"Okay," Catherine agreed.
"One favour," Grissom said. "I don't think we're ready to have Greg in here yet. That's going to be an emotional reunion, and Sara –"
"That's okay," Brass interrupted. "It won't be Greg. We'll get someone else. Someone objective. And you don't have to see anyone 'til you're ready."
"Thanks."
The conversation quickly turned in the direction of their impending reunion with loved ones, and Catherine, unable to restrain herself any longer, was soon anxiously questioning Brass about her family. Brass comforted her, assuring her that Lindsey and her grandmother were fine, and that furthermore, everyone had rallied around and that Lindsey had even been spending time with Dianne Curtis, who had taken her under her wing – company in each other's pain.
This development surprised Catherine, and Sara felt a sudden awareness that they had indeed missed out on a full nine months and that time had marched on in their absence. But Catherine, who was still trying to deal with the sheer pace of everything, seemed merely grateful to hear that Lindsey was alive and well, and after requesting Brass send out a message to her, eventually consented thereafter to be examined with the rest of them.
Grissom alone hold out on the question of being examined, and it was not until the verdict came in on Sara's state that he eventually consented. The doctor informed them that Sara was weak, that her blood pressure was low and that she was indeed half starved, but that the good news was that there was no permanent damage from the miscarriage. She would heal, though in her current state it may take a little time, but the news of no permanent disablement was enough for Grissom, and after a hug and kiss on the bed – the doctor smiling nearby at Grissom's sensitivity – Grissom eventually departed, and Sara was alone again.
Sara strangely came to appreciate this state of loneliness, as while she craved the presence of her friends, she was also still intelligent enough to know that on the other side of their examinations would come a tidal wave of stress – including more questioning from PD, the CSI exam, reunion with family and loved ones, and possibly the media, and not to mention the thorough dose of trauma counselling they were all about to be given. So she enjoyed the solitude, and lay back on her pillows as she surrendered herself to the process.
The one flicker of light in the hour which followed was another visit from Brass, who drifted over once her curtain had been re-opened.
"Hey," he said tenderly. "How are you feeling?"
He hovered by her bedside and took her hand – a gesture that Sara found quite touching.
"I'm fine," she said. "I'll be okay."
She gazed up at him standing there and felt a wave of appreciation for his friendship. His eyes were slightly watery, as though he was still in shock from their sudden reappearance into the land of the living, but also as though there was a knot around his heart regarding their disappearance. She squeezed his hand, and tried to find something to say to make him feel better.
"You know we're all okay. Catherine's torn up about Lindsey, but that'll pass. Everything will be fine."
"I know," he replied. He nodded as if he felt guilty that he was not the one dishing out the comfort. "I know you're all tough; you've always been a strong one."
He smiled fondly, then added, "I wanted to ask you about your family. We called the hospital in San Francisco, told your mother you're okay. She sends her love, comforting thoughts. But I don't know if you wanted to talk to her, if you were ready, or …"
"Not right now," Sara said, vigorously shaking her head as a wave of searing mental pain rolled through her. "I can't deal with that right now."
"Okay," he said. "That's okay."
He quickly gave her hand a bracing squeeze, and she could read from the depth of sympathy in his eyes that he knew her full history, and that the entire file had indeed come out during the investigation.
She sighed, and then thought of her mother shut away in the hospital, feeling not just a mother's pain over her disappearance, but an inability to at least share it with the other families, as Lindsey and Dianne Curtis evidently had, finding solace in others who felt the same.
Feeling a pang of regret, she added, "You can tell her I'm okay. Tell her I'm fine, there was no harm done. I'll call her when I can."
"Okay."
He seemed to understand her without speaking, and gave a simple nod before they drifted for a short while into silence. He continued to hold her hand – a development that Sara found puzzling, and though she half expected him to make some excuse and duck back into the waiting room to meet PD, he did not. Instead he hovered beside her bed, continuing to comfort her, and she began to suspect that he knew more than he was saying. It was not until he caught her anxiously looking up at the people passing by that she discovered this to be true, when he understood what was bothering her without any questioning whatsoever.
"It's okay," he said. "No one will hurt you. I'm here, okay?"
When she looked again, he revealed more.
"The others will be back soon – they're not far away."
Immediately she suspected that one of them had seen fit to warn him of her emotional state – and her thoughts landed straight on Grissom and Catherine. It was hard to know which it was – she could imagine both of them interfering in the name of protecting her, for the sake of her panic attacks and distrust around men – but after tossing it about in her brain a moment she elected to find it touching instead of irritating. It had been years since anyone like Brass had done something so kind for her in keeping her company, for such selfless reasons, and after a few minutes of absorbing this realisation she felt tears spring to her eyes.
"Hey," he said. "Hey, hey, hey … it's okay. It's okay."
He squeezed her hand and lifted his other to settle on her forehead, stroking back her hair like a child – a throwback to his days of fatherhood.
"It's okay …"
She nodded without speaking, and raised a hand to hastily wipe at her eyes, embarrassed.
It was at that moment that Dianne Curtis came around the corner, and though she initially had a pained look on her face, she quickly masked it when she saw Sara, moving instead to the bed to comfort her.
"Everything all right?"
"I think she's feeling a little vulnerable," Brass explained, softly. "Missing the others."
Dianne laid a hand on her arm, and gave a maternal squeeze.
"Shhh. Everything's okay. You know you're safe with us, and the others aren't far away. I promise."
"I'm sure they won't be long," Brass said.
"They won't be," Dianne added. "Sofia's in radiology, and the others are just being looked at. They won't be much longer. They're just taking some blood, making sure of a few things."
Sara nodded. She hated feeling weak, and immediately tried to pull herself together.
"I'm sorry, I have no idea why I'm crying …"
"It's okay," Brass said quickly. "It's okay. You've been through an ordeal, and what you're feeling is normal."
"I'd think it strange if you didn't shed a few tears," Dianne said, holding and rubbing her arm. "But it's okay. I promise you you're safe with us. No one's going to harm you, and the others will be back soon. There's no shame in needing them after what you've been through. It's natural."
Sara sniffed, and hastily wiped away stray tears. She had no idea why she was feeling weak, only that everything had happened at once, and the sheer pace of events was overwhelming after a few days in which she had already felt vulnerable.
"You want me to get a nurse?" Dianne offered. "There's a psych trauma team here, you can have a word."
"No," Sara said, adamant. "I'm not having counselling."
"All right."
Sara knew from her unquestioning acceptance that she, too, probably knew everything about her past, and that Sara had had bucket loads of counselling in her youth. Dianne had no doubt come across it during the police investigation, and probably knew the file backwards.
"Is there anything we can do?" Brass asked. "Something that might help?"
"No."
"All right. Well we'll stay with you a little while."
They did stay with her a while – about half an hour until the others made it back. Nick was the first of them, and wandered back into her stall looking distinctly dishevelled, like he had been through the wringer in the examination room. He dispensed with the formalities as he headed straight to her bed, walking around Brass and motioning for her to move over.
"Hey. Budge over," he said.
"You okay?" she asked.
She wriggled over a few inches, making room for him to sit, and reached automatically for his hand. She knew firsthand the feeling of needing company in their current situation, and did not begrudge him bed space as he folded his hand around hers, giving it a squeeze. It must have been a rough half hour with the doctors, as he seemed to have hints of old tears in his eyes, the skin around the rims slightly red from crying. When Brass saw a look pass between them, he finally excused himself, leaving the two of them alone.
"Were they rough?" she asked.
"They've got a trauma psychologist in there," he complained. "Started poking around in my head about my family, everything I was feeling."
He broke off and swallowed, and Sara rubbed and squeezed his hand. She would have sat up and hugged him, but the doctors had given her strict orders to remain horizontal, and she still felt weak.
"It's okay to miss your family. I think everyone's a little sensitive about that topic right now."
"I guess. I don't even know what to say to them when they get here. I mean, have you thought about that? I presume they've been called –"
"They have been," Sara confirmed, having covered this topic with Brass. She had grilled him for quite a lot of information in their half hour together. "They're on their way from Texas. They'll be here in a few hours."
He nodded to himself, but for a moment said no more.
"All you have to do is give them a hug, tell them you love them. Like Sofia did to her mom. The rest of the story can wait."
He remained contemplative for a few moments, and Sara rubbed and squeezed his fingers in a soothing motion, back and forth. After another moment he pulled himself together.
"And everyone else? Their families coming?"
"Catherine's family's outside," Sara said. "They're in the waiting room with PD. I think Grissom's mom's out there too."
"And yours?" he asked.
"I don't have anyone," she said.
He stared at her, and Sara swallowed again to hold back the pain, to not let that thought in.
"It's okay," she said.
He looked saddened, and his eyes drifted for a moment out into the ward, as if thinking also of Warrick – the other one of them who had also had no family. He took a breath and squeezed her hand.
"Well you know you always have us, right?" he said, giving a small smile. "And like it or not, we'll take care of you. You'll come home with us."
"I know," Sara said.
She grinned, and he beamed back at her – a soppy sort of look that she was kind of glad Grissom did not see. He patted her hand then and let go, and adjusted his position on the bed as they waited it out until the others' return.
Catherine was next, and arrived in a similar state of distress to Nick. Her eyes were red from obvious crying, and Nick wasted no time in taking her in his arms, hugging her beside Sara's bed.
"Hey, it's okay," he said. "It's okay …"
Catherine said even less than Nick, though Sara did make out murmurs of the words "shrink" and "prick", whispered into Nick's shoulder. The two hugged and kissed, but after that Catherine wiped her eyes, and ever the strong one, shrugged it off to perch on the edge of Sara's bed, and grill her over the doctor's verdict.
Sara answered her questions honestly – she had no secrets from Catherine – and the next half hour passed in a similar pattern of affairs until Sofia was at last wheeled back from radiology, and sitting around her bed, the other four's ears pricked up.
Warrick was halfway up when Sara caught his arm, snapping him in place.
"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"Don't rush over there," she advised. "Give her mom a minute."
They hesitated, but the reason for Sara's interference soon came over the partition, Dianne's voice audible over the stall wall.
"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay, baby. You'll be fine."
"I'm scared," Sofia confessed.
"I know. But there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm here, and I know everything's going to be okay."
"And if something's wrong?"
"I'm sure the tests will be clear. It's just a formality. You said yourself you'd been feeling better these past few months. I questioned Sara and she said the same thing. You just need to hold on a little longer."
"But if something is wrong –"
"If it is – and I'm sure it's not – then I'll help you get whatever you need. If you need treatment, rehab, therapy, we'll get it. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're back with me. We'll work the rest out when the time comes."
"Can I come home with you?"
"You're coming home with me," Dianne said. "You can come stay a while, just rest and take it easy. There's absolutely nothing to worry about. I'll take care of you. You're my baby."
"Thank you."
There was the sound of kissing, and with that, the tender part of the conversation ended. Sara released Warrick's arm, and though he looked saddened by what he had heard he still got to his feet, and made his way with Nick and Catherine into the stall next door. Sara listened as the threesome greeted Sofia, trading kisses and kind sentiments, and that left her for the moment alone with Grissom, who was sat at her side, evidently thinking that he would catch up with Sofia later.
"Just close your eyes," he said to her. "Rest a while."
He adjusted her blanket and stroked back her hair, and Sara was grateful that they had reached that stage of their relationship where no more words were needed. She rested her eyes, and revelled in the feel of his protective gaze holding her, of the comforting proximity of his body sitting next to her on the mattress.
She almost drifted off as she listened to the murmurs coming from the stall next door – of Catherine reassuring Sofia that Sara was fine – and over the next half hour, things continued in the same vein, until at last Sofia's results came through. It turned out that they were all clear, and that while the doctors said there probably had been some kind of cerebral event, due to the passing of time and healing of the brain, it was difficult to say exactly what that had been. Nevertheless Sofia was scheduled to have a follow up with a neurologist in a fortnight's time, together with neuropsychological testing, but she was still thrilled that all the dangers of needing surgery or intervention were negated, and when the nurses relieved her of her braces Sara heard her fly up into her mother's arms, sharing relieved hugs with her mom, Nick and Catherine.
After that they were forced to stay put for a while, while the hospital worked through its bumbling bureaucracy, but it did allow for a precious half hour in which the six of them simply sat around Sara's bed, resting. The hospital had no issue with them spending time together – the psych trauma teams ruling that this was in fact advisable – and to that end they simply rested, and waited things out.
Sofia, relieved from her restraints, greeted Sara with a hug and a kiss – together with a look of concern that she was still on her back, and unable to sit up – and after that word reached them through Brass that the psych trauma teams had moved on to their families, briefing them on what was to come. The hospital apparently had no intention of allowing a reunion to take place before the families were briefed – needing to know the basics on PTSD and how to handle it – and it was Catherine who was nervous during this period, fretting over the imminent arrival of Lindsey.
"Stop stressing, she'll be fine," Warrick said, when this was raised for the thousandth time. "There's nothing to worry about. She'll just be glad to see you, to have her mom back."
"She was already halfway off the rails," Catherine said, with a worried sigh. "Losing her dad, Sam, then me …"
"She hasn't lost you, you're still here," Sara said, eager to point this out. "And all she needs from you right now is a hug. The rest – the stories, what we went through – that can all wait."
"Sara's right, Cath," Nick agreed. "Just take one thing at a time, okay? We probably all have a lot to catch up on here, let's just take it slow."
"Exactly," Grissom agreed, who was still sat by Sara's head, his hand on her shoulder. "And if there is any damage – if we detect down the track that there's a problem – we'll get her help. We're all still family. We'll look after each other, and that includes Lindsey. Let's just take one thing at a time."
This talk seemed to help Catherine, and she calmed down for a while after that – helped by a reminder from Dianne Curtis that Lindsey had in fact spent the last weekend horse riding at her ranch outside of Vegas, and that she was perfectly fine – a piece of news that Catherine clung to, and even hugged Dianne for. But she was also helped by a distraction in the form of Brass, who arrived back to confirm that CSI was coming in.
"The psych team's finishing up with your families," he said. "Now according to the hospital you'll be reunited with them in a short while, and they'll move you up to a ward. But before that can take place we just need to finish up with a few things here, dot the I's and cross the t's, so to speak."
"You want to process us," Catherine clarified.
"I have two CSIs outside," Brass said. "A man and a woman, both very professional. If you're ready, I'll bring them in, and we can get this over with. After that you can see your loved ones."
"All right," Grissom said.
"Okay?"
"That's fine," Catherine agreed.
Only Sofia seemed hostile to the idea, visible in a slight stiffening of her body language, but it wasn't until Brass departed that she let loose, fixing Grissom and Catherine with a firm eye.
"Are you mad?" she asked.
"Well according to the psych team the jury's still out," Catherine joked.
"Just cooperate," Grissom said, raising a placating hand. "This is going to take some politics and some manoeuvring. Just give them your clothes, let them process your hair and nails – you know perfectly well they won't find anything of significance."
"That's a gamble," Sofia said. "Don't underestimate your own lab."
"You think they're going to turn over a label and find 'parallel universe' written on the back?" Catherine joked.
"Lower your voice," Warrick admonished, casting a wary glance to the ward outside their stall.
"You don't have to give a statement," Grissom said. "If they try, refuse. Hide behind a barrier of PTSD if you have to. As long as the hospital thinks we suffer from post-traumatic stress they'll try to prevent people from questioning us too deeply. They're telling your families right now to not ask questions. PD too."
"We have no choice but to go along with it," Nick said, joining the conversation. "I mean, our guns at the very least, they have a right to request those back – they're PD property. And if we cooperate with CSI, tell them we're too stressed to tell the rest, that'll hopefully at least buy us some time."
"Time enough for us to figure out the rest," Grissom agreed.
"Put it this way," Warrick said to her. "If we don't cooperate we'll only make them suspicious. They'll start wondering what we're hiding, if we faked our own disappearance, committed murder or some other heinous crime. You don't need your mom thinking that."
"No," Sofia agreed, and her face fell.
"Just go along with it," Grissom said. "Let them comb your hair, whatever else they want, but say nothing."
"About the best we can do," Catherine agreed.
The plan made, it was soon put into action, and Brass brought in the two CSIs to get it done. They introduced themselves as the new temporary supervisors on night shift – emphasising the 'temporary' as if wanting to make sure they got no one off side, lest they should think their jobs under threat – and Sara eyed them from her hospital bed with suspicion. They seemed nice enough, and appeared friendly and soft hearted, but it wasn't until the man introduced himself that the ice broke.
"D.B.?" Nick repeated, giving a small laugh of disbelief. "That's your name?"
"Seriously?" Catherine asked, unable to help herself.
"It doesn't stand for 'dead body'," he assured, smiling with good humour. "It actually stands for Diebenkorn. I guess I just had creative parents."
"Diebenkorn," Warrick repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I drew the short straw," he joked.
He smiled pleasantly, seeming completely at ease – as if processed traumatised ex CSI colleagues every day – and Sara was just wondering whether it was an act or sincere when he caught Catherine eyeing him with suspicion, her gaze settled warily on his gun.
"Here," he said, immediately unclipping it from his belt. "Why don't you hold that for me? It's getting a little heavy, digging into my side here."
Catherine mutely took it, seeming wrong-footed by the fact that he had noticed, but he was unfazed.
"And you can have this one too," his colleague added, handing her own to Brass.
She was blonde, and had named herself as Julie Finlay, and despite herself Sara took a liking to her. There was a genuine, carefree manner to her that was appealing.
"Catherine," Grissom said, evidently eager to get proceedings started, "why don't you go next door with Sofia and Finlay?"
"Right," Catherine said.
The three women looked at each other and disappeared.
"Nick –"
"We got it," Warrick said, with a nod to Nick and DB Russell he gestured to the stall on the other side.
Brass quickly excused himself, sensing that Grissom and Sara wanted a moment alone, and once they were by themselves Sara relaxed back into her pillows, trying to still her jumpy nerves.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yeah," Sara said softly.
In truth she wasn't – as Grissom well knew – but the anxiety she felt at the proximity of strangers was something most of the group suffered from, and understood well.
"I'll stay with you," he said. "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"I know," Sara replied.
Grateful for his support she squeezed his hand, and relaxed on her side for a while until the examination of the women was finished, and the trio made their way back to her bed. It felt like it had been lightning quick, and Sara had barely prepared herself for the idea of being processed before she heard the CSI case being set down beside the bed, and then Finlay's voice, talking to Grissom.
"I'm going to need a minute with her," she said, diplomatically.
"I'll stay," Grissom corrected.
Sara heard the sound of a curtain being drawn, and then apologies from Catherine and Sofia as they made themselves scarce. She sighed, comfortable on her side, and wished that she hadn't already promised to cooperate as Grissom invited Finlay closer, ready to start.
"Just lie on your side, we'll take it nice and slow," Grissom said.
"She's in a little pain," he added to Finlay, by way of explanation.
"That's okay," Finlay said kindly, and Sara sensed her leaning over the mattress. "We'll be very gentle. Just stop me if you feel at all uncomfortable."
The examination proceeded as it had a thousand times before, when Sara had been the instigator. Finlay processed her hair, fingernails and toenails, collected her clothes from the bag in the cupboard by her bed, and it wasn't until they reached the very final stage – photographing bodily wounds – that she began to feel uneasy.
"Stop," she said, when Grissom went reaching for her gown. "Just … stop a second."
She hoisted herself up on the mattress, raising a hand, and Grissom withdrew.
"You don't have to take it off," he said. "Just open it up at the back so she can photograph your bruises. You have them along your spine."
"It's not relevant," she said. "Just … stop."
"Okay."
He stopped, and though he looked at her with sympathy it was Finlay who actually seemed more sympathetic.
"Would you like me to get a nurse?" she asked.
"No," Sara replied, and feeling faintly embarrassed, she closed her eyes, needing a minute.
Grissom, however, was for once in a hurry, and though he withdrew his hands he called out immediately to Catherine, searching for her through the flimsy curtain.
"Catherine! Are you still there?"
"Right here," she said, and Sara heard her re-enter. "Everything okay?"
Something must have passed between them – a series of looks which explained everything – as while neither said anything Sara soon sensed Catherine sitting on the bed behind her, a brief dip in the mattress as she positioned herself.
"There's nothing to be afraid of, okay?" she said, whispering in Sara's ear as she held her. "I'm right here – you're completely protected."
Sara said nothing.
"You're with me, with Grissom and Sofia – the guys are just on the other side of the curtain – you can trust all of us. We'd never let anything happen."
Catherine's hands on her were soothing, as always, and she also felt Sofia's on her knee, and Grissom's on her hip. Taking a deep breath and feeling suddenly like a fool, she tried to shake it all off.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"No need to apologise," Catherine replied. "Just take your time."
"You're safe, Sara," Sofia contributed.
"Can you just do it?" she asked.
"You sure you're ready?" Catherine replied.
"Just do it," Sara ordered.
Hating that she had made a scene, Sara tilted her position on the mattress to give them access to her back, feeling better now that her friends were there. Catherine took control, and giving a running commentary, undid the top few knots on her gown, before spreading the cloth to expose her back, and holding it open for Finlay to take the photo. It was over before Sara even had time to get anxious about it, and once it was done she was left to wonder why it had freaked her out in the first place – but that was a thought for another time.
The up side of the fact that it was over was that they were free to now reunite with their families, and though this did not directly affect Sara she felt glad for Catherine and Nick's sakes, who had been deeply affected by the parting. The hospital staff transferred them to a private ward nearby – where all six of them would spend the night together, nestled in the bosom of the hospital staff – and only then were their families let in, and the reunion which her friends had craved for nine long months took place.
Predictably, Catherine was teary, and now that the moment had come seemed to have lost any grasp of her vocabulary, and simply clung to Lindsey in a wrenching bear hug.
Lindsey smiled over her mother's shoulder, evidently thrilled to have her mom back in one piece, and at a nod from Dianne Curtis, also drew back slightly and told her that she loved her, prompting more tears from Catherine.
It was a heart-warming reunion, as was the one that Catherine had with her mom, and Nick with his family, when they rolled in half an hour later. Even Grissom looked happier than he had in months, sitting in chairs beside his bed with his mother, conversing in rapid sign language.
It was the reunion that everyone had dreamed of, and Sara felt genuinely happy for them all, as she watched from her bed by the window.
Nevertheless she felt a gnawing emptiness – the first stirrings of jealousy - but the feeling did not last long as Sofia soon wandered over, looking completely at ease and taking a seat on her bed, still dressed in her hospital gown, her mother's coat around her shoulders.
"Can I talk to you?" she asked.
"Always," Sara replied.
She was still lying down, two hard pillows under her head, but the blankets were at least warm, and she felt relatively relaxed.
"My mom says Greg's in the waiting room," she said. "She wants to know if you and Warrick would like to see him."
"I'd love to see Greg," Sara said honestly.
She felt touched at Dianne Curtis' thoughtfulness, no doubt aware that herself and Warrick were without family, and that they too, craved someone to love and reunite with.
"Okay," Sofia said. "I'll tell her to bring him in."
But she did not move from the bed, and after a second's hesitation, Sara sensed there was something else.
"What is it?" she asked.
Sofia took a deep breath. "I've been talking to the others," she said. "On and off for the past few hours. About our plans."
Sara, oblivious to this conversation, waited.
"I don't want to stay in Vegas tonight," she confessed, lowering her voice. "This place holds too many memories – I can't stop looking over my shoulder. Catherine's getting paranoid, Nick's uneasy, and after what happened to the four of us the other day …"
"It's raw," Sara said, understanding.
She still remembered full well the horrible events of only the other night, though it now seemed so far away. She recalled Sofia's state after their failed trip out, Catherine's deep anxiety which still had not healed. It was no wonder the four of them were ready to bolt, now that Sofia's MRI had come back clear.
"Yeah," Sofia agreed. "The thing is, my mom owns a ranch outside Vegas. It's large and quiet, there's room for everyone. She's happy for everyone to come stay a few days, to give us time."
Sara nodded. "You mention this to the others?"
"Partly," she said. "Catherine's open to it so long as we can accommodate Lindsey. She's already nervous they want to keep us in here tonight, and she's not having it. And she doesn't want to stay in Vegas. Nick's happy so long as we can sort something out with his family, and I think Warrick will go along with the majority."
"You don't need to convince me, I'm in," Sara said.
"But you're sick," Sofia said, looking suddenly awkward. "If you want to stay here tonight –"
"You know I can't think of anything worse."
Sofia smiled at her, sharing the feeling.
"Okay. But it does come with a compromise. My mom insists on hiring a nurse for the night, and she says she wants complete honesty from everyone. She doesn't want any surprises."
"I'm okay with that."
"All right, then."
The deal made Sara settled back into her pillows, grateful for the first time that day that things were looking distinctly better. They were getting out of the damn hospital, their families were all okay, and she was about to see Greg – the last person she craved to reunite with.
All in all, things were looking up.
It's been a little while since the last chapter, I guess, but my motivation went AWOL. I'd love to hear from anyone who may still be reading this - I can't help wondering if anyone's still interested. If you do want more, and are enjoying the story, please let me know. Thanks.