It was a rough few hours. Sara waited it out as best she could, striving for patience, but in reality feeling each minute tick past like a torture machine. Dianne Curtis had taken charge of negotiations for their release, and spent this time in debate with the hospital staff and their other families, and that left Sara with nothing to do but hang in there, and try to keep it together.
Nevertheless it was a strained atmosphere, and her first smile of the evening did not come until hours later, when she innocently swung her legs off the bed to head to the toilet, and found Nick suddenly in front of her, blocking her path.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa … where do you think you're going?"
Sara, one hand on the mattress, braced herself to stand, and grimaced slightly; her bladder full.
"My bladder's about to burst, I'll be back."
"No, no, I don't think so," he argued, and held her back with one hand – a placating gesture. "You know what the doctors said, you need to rest, okay? That means you need to stay laying down until we're ready to leave."
"You're not seriously suggesting I wet the bed?"
"No, no." And he gave a brief wisp of a smile despite himself. "I mean you stay put, and I'll get you a nurse. They can help you with that."
A brief vision of using a bed pan flitted through Sara's head, and was promptly rejected.
"That's not happening," she said, and she got to her feet. "I'll be back."
She was halfway across the ward when she heard him call out to her, shouting, "You're stubborn, Sara!", but ignoring him she continued on, and entered the bathroom unaided. It was small but clean, and once she had used the facilities she paused to wash her hands, soaping them up as she heard a knock on the door.
"I'll just be a sec'!" she shouted.
"It's me!" Grissom replied. "Open up."
Tossing the hand towel into the bin she obliged, and pulled the door open to reveal him standing there in his absurdly baggy hospital gown, one eyebrow raised.
"You can't wait your turn?" she quipped.
But he strode in and shut the door, ignoring her wisecrack.
"What's up?" she asked.
"I just wanted a second alone," he confessed. "I need to know how you're doing."
Touched, Sara smiled, and leaned back against the sink as she stretched out a hand, massaging his arm.
"I'm fine, you know that."
"Or at least you will be?" he guessed.
Sara said nothing.
"You know Nick's correct. You shouldn't be on your feet unless we can't avoid it."
"I'm going to need a lot more than that to convince me to use a bed pan," Sara quipped, quite honestly.
She grinned at him, but he did not respond. He looked down at her holding his arm, and seemed touched by the gesture, but not calmed by it. She saw concern ebbing from his eyes, and knowing that she wasn't going to get around the conversation she had hoped they would avoid, she sighed, facing facts.
"I'll be okay," she said. "I just need rest, and we can get that at Dianne's house. And mentally …"
"Mentally what?"
"Mentally … I've been through this before. The pain, the trauma … at least I know what to expect."
He nodded, and for the first time she saw her honesty relax him, and his hands found her shoulders, not knowing what else to say.
"We'll endure it together," he said.
"I know," Sara said.
He squeezed her shoulders again, but to Sara this was not enough, and glad that the closed door gave them at least some privacy, she mustered her honesty.
"Can I ask you a favour?"
"Of course," he replied.
His hands squeezed, thumbs moving up and down, and she placed one of her own on his waist.
"Hold me?" she asked.
With a sad smile he obliged, and she spent the next few minutes nestled against him, grateful that for all the chaos going on outside, they had a few minutes of peace, alone. She leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling the masculine protectiveness of his body, one hand slipped into the back of her hospital gown to stroke her bare back, and the held her hair.
"You know I love you," he said.
"I know," she replied. She swallowed and said, "I love you too."
"And we'll be okay. No matter what happens."
"Love conquers all," she agreed.
She became grateful later on that she had those minutes with him, precious time to just shut out the world, and she remained nuzzled there in his arms for several more minutes until she heard a tentative knock at the door, and Nick's voice come through.
"You okay?" he asked, hesitantly.
Sara smiled, and wiped her eyes, where a single tear of love had fallen.
"We're fine," Grissom replied.
Nick left them alone after that, evidently sensing that he had interrupted something, but the moment gone Sara waited as Grissom then used the toilet, before they headed back out into the ward together.
When they arrived it was to find that their four friends were gathered around its centre, but that there was a fifth person with them – a younger CSI with untamed hair.
"Sara," Greg greeted.
She forgave him the fact that he wasn't smiling, as he looked woefully uncertain about how to greet her, and whether to smile and rush at her or not. Protocol had no advice on how to handle situations like this, but spotting the rare anxiety in his eyes she softened, and headed straight into his arms.
"Greg," she greeted.
"It's so good to see you," he said.
His hug was not tight, and perhaps someone had warned him of her tenderness, as she had never indeed been hugged with more sensitivity by Greg, in all his years of spontaneous embraces. But touched she kissed him on the cheek, and after telling him she had missed him she learned then that he had also never been more gentlemanly, judging by his next words.
"You realise your gown's open, right?"
Alarmed, and knowing that he had got a glance of her backside, she lurched a hand around to seize it closed, but was helped immediately by Grissom, who worked to fix his mistake, having worked it open with his roving hand only seconds before.
"Thanks," she said.
She knew that there was a time when he would have made a joke about seeing her behind, but nine months of suffering must have matured him, as he let the opportunity slide.
"Grissom," he greeted.
"Greg –"
Grissom gave him a manly handshake, as uncomfortable as ever at the prospect of hugging a man, and then Catherine stepped forward, having evidently not had a hug yet herself.
"I really missed you guys," he said. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"We're pretty glad about that too," Nick admitted. "It was touch and go for a while there."
Sara knew he was referring to her own illness a few days ago, and probably also to Sofia's state, which had stretched on for months, but Greg, not knowing the details, nodded respectfully.
"I never thought I'd see you again," he admitted.
"Us too," Sara agreed.
In the end the conversation went nowhere in particular, circling around everyone's trauma, and Greg, with uncharacteristic sensitivity, did not crack a single joke the whole time. It was a depressing reunion, but the up side was that Greg was very eager to help, and when Nick suggested that Sara lay back down, he immediately surged forward to help, escorting her over to the bed with a nurse-like instinct that she had previously never known existed.
"Climb in," he said, "get the blankets over you."
He spread them over her, fetched her water, and then a little later when Catherine shivered – perched on the end of Sara's bed – he straightaway shed his jacket, and wrapped it around her thin frame without being asked.
"Thanks," she said, surprised.
"Anything I can do to help," he said. "Anything at all."
This became his mantra over the next few hours, as he hovered about and channelled his nine months' of suffering into a passionate eagerness to be of assistance. Moreover, his presence actually turned out to be comforting, and he remained with them for the remaining hours in which they were at the hospital, until the clock was nudging midnight, and the forms were at last signed, and the group gathered ready for departure.
"I'll say goodbye here," he said.
Sara reached for him, kissing him again on the cheek, and she saw the others too, look slightly saddened by the loss.
"You got work?" Nick asked. "Clocking on?"
He stood with his hand on Sofia's waist, all of them dressed now in jeans and thick coats, ready to go.
"Yeah," he said, and he braved a smile. "Nose to the grindstone, and all that."
"Have you been allocated our case?" Sofia asked, fixing him with a knowing eye.
"No, I got paperwork," he lied. "It's piled up on my desk. You wouldn't believe the mess."
He gave a humorous smile, one which Sara knew was utter nonsense, but after an awkward silence Dianne reminded them they had to go, and Sara shared one last hug before the split was made.
In the darkness in the parking lot Dianne then loaded Sara into her car, along with Grissom and Sofia, and the long drive to her country ranch took place.
Sara reflected later that it was a bit like a funeral procession, a long string of cars all heading toward one place, working their way through the streets of Las Vegas, and along a lonesome highway. But the good thing in hindsight was that all of them were feeling far too tired to be stressed by it, and the trip was nowhere near as bad as the initial one they had made into the city. Aside from a request from Sofia that they lock the car doors the trip was made in relative peace, and Sara, holding hands with Grissom in the back seat, arrived with what remained of her sanity intact.
She stepped out at the expansive ranch with a feeling of gratitude that they were at last alone again, and rid of the city, and as Sofia helped her from the car she looked up and took a breath, admiring the stars.
"It's so much better outside of the city," Grissom said.
"It's one of the best views in the state," Dianne said, joining them.
They did not get time to admire it fully however as they soon made their way inside, Catherine already shivering again from the chilly night air, and Dianne barely opened the door before she turned the heater on and dropped her keys onto the kitchen table.
Sara's first impression was that Dianne must have suffered in Sofia's absence, as there was a cluster of beer bottles abandoned on the coffee table, and files spread out all over the couch, though the house itself was large and classy. She again had no time to admire it however as Dianne immediately shunted them into a side room, wanting to discuss with them the sleeping arrangements.
"It's up to you," she said, fixing them with a maternal eye. "Whatever you want is fine. The hospital said you need to be together, that you don't want to part, and if that's true, just say so. We can move some furniture around, put some mattresses on the floor, you can have a room all in together down the hallway."
It sounded like a slumber party, though they had nothing to celebrate, and Sara saw all her friends hesitate, their pride wrestling with reality.
"Well … whatever's good for you," Nick said. "We're flexible."
"It's your needs that are important," Dianne corrected. "Do you want to be together, or go in pairs, or what?"
She posed the question gently, hypersensitive to their states, and Sara was glad from the look on Catherine's face that she had not asked it in front of their families – particularly Lindsey.
"I vote together," Sara said, doing a quick head count of body language in the room. "If that's okay with you guys."
There were assenting nods from the crowd, though none of them had the guts to say it, and a second later Dianne had disappeared to make the arrangements, leaving them alone.
"Are you sure about that?" Catherine asked.
"What do you mean?" Sara replied.
"Well … if you two want to be alone," Nick said, uncertain.
"What, you think we're sex crazed?" Sara asked, dumbfounded.
Sara saw them glance at each other, and the word 'haystack' formed silently on Nick's lips, and she promptly shook her head.
"You know perfectly well that's not going to happen right now," she said.
"Sara's in no state," Grissom said, sounding annoyed at the suggestion. "Even if we wanted to."
"Which we don't," Sara followed on. "This is about all of us right now."
"Okay then," Catherine agreed.
She gave a diplomatic shrug, and agreeing, events were soon set in motion. Dianne rushed about the house, aided by the Stokes and Willows clans, and made the arrangements, and a bare half hour later they were all settled, changed into pyjamas and ready for bed.
The room turned out to be a large square bedroom at the rear of the house, down a long quiet hallway, and with mattresses spread out across the soft carpet, it was relatively comfortable – and at least private.
"Climb in," Lily Flynn said, helping Catherine under a blanket, and Catherine was so exhausted that she went without a fight.
Across the far side Dianne had paused to hug Sofia, the two sharing an intimate moment, and Nick hovered at the foot of his bed, hugging each of his family members in turn.
"Goodnight," he said. "'Night –"
"Goodnight Mom," Lindsey said.
"Goodnight," Catherine said. "And do what your Grandma tells you!"
She added this as though she had to catch up on nine months' worth of parenting, but it was to Lindsey's credit that she simply smiled, almost as if she had missed it.
"Don't worry," Dianne said, after the young girl had gone. "I'll take care of her. Just go to sleep. Have sweet dreams."
"Thank you for everything," Sara said, bedded down herself. "You've been such an amazing help."
"I'm happy to do it," she said. "Just get some rest, sleep as long as you want."
After a chorus of thanks she departed, the door clicked closed, and they were then left alone, stuck in a dark room.
It was several moments before anyone spoke.
"I guess it's all over now, right?" Nick said, voice hopeful in the darkness.
"I sure hope so," Catherine replied.
"Everything's okay now," Grissom said. "Just go to sleep and rest."
And for a while, they did.
A short chapter, but I'm pretty happy with the outcome. The GSR just sort of slipped in there. Hope you guys like! Please let me know; reviews encourage me to keep going, helps with motivation to reach the end. :)