CHAPTER TWO: NICK IS OK
Brass found Sara at the end of the hospital hallway, her arms wrapped tightly around her. She had been on shift for over 24 hours, along with the rest team. She was sobbing quietly.
"He'll be OK, Sara," comforted Brass
Sara replied, "I know. I just left Nicky's room and he was already sitting up."
"I am not talking about Nick," he replied.
Brass was not a man of many words and so with that comment, he stopped talking, and wrapped his coat around Sara. He stood close to her. He listened as her breathing slowed and offered her a napkin he had shoved in his pocket after he grabbed breakfast at a drive-through. She wiped her tears and looked him in the eye. Neither showed their true thoughts. They hid behind the poker faces that their jobs demanded. And Brass let Sara off the hook.
Grissom had come around the corner from Nick's room at the wrong time. He quietly watched the exchange between the detective and his CSI. His CSI? Who was he kidding? Grissom had no claim on Sara. Despite the increased friendship they had shared during the past several months, and that kiss in the dark, Grissom had not expressed his true feelings to Sara. He hid behind his poker face too.
"Are you cleared to leave, Gris?" asked Sara.
"I just need to pick up my prescriptions downstairs," he replied.
Sara handed the coat back to Brass as they walked down the hall. The ride in the elevator was silent, except for the clanking elevator mechanism. Grissom was leaning heavily on the single crutch, his ankle taped and in a walking boot for support. His ribs had been wrapped to protect them from further injury. His head was still throbbing and he had some ringing in his ears. Most of the damage had been caused by the force of the explosion. It had been a rough triple shift and he did not want the complications of love or jealousy in the middle. But this was real life.
When they reached the first floor, Brass and Grissom headed for the pharmacy. Sara headed the opposite direction, calling out that she would bring the Denali around to the front. Greg caught up with Sara in the parking lot. He had been up with Nick as well and had given his keys to Warrick.
Greg asked, "Can I still get a ride back, Sara?"
"Sure. I was just pulling the rig around to the front so that Grissom would not have to hoof it all the way out here," she replied quietly.
Brass stood silently while Grissom handed over his paperwork then he took advantage of his time alone with Gil to remind him that he should not go home alone tonight. The doctor had made it clear to both of them that the combination of the sprained ankle, bruised ribs, slight concussion, and prescribed medications would take their toll.
"Are you sure that you don't need my help? Maybe you should ask Sara or Greg."
The look that Grissom shot at his friend was enough to stop the conversation dead in its tracks. Brass knew his friend was stubborn. So he told Grissom he was going to check on the car and headed to the front doors of Desert Palms Hospital. He found Sara waiting in the driver's seat and asked Greg to go help Grissom. Brass informed Sara that the doctor did not want Grissom to drive or be alone during the next 24 hours.
"We both know how stubborn he is, but maybe he will let someone help him once he gets back to the lab," said Brass.
Of course, Greg and Grissom saw the interaction between the detective and the CSI. They did not hear the words, but both got the meaning. It certainly appeared that Brass and Sara were more than old friends.
The ride to the lab was quiet. Once there, all three headed in to their respective spaces. Greg was finally off the clock and just stopped at his locker to put up his vest and gear. Grissom retreated to his dark office. Sara headed for the phone in the layout room so she could give Doc Robbins an update on Nicky's condition. She waited until she saw Greg leave and then headed for her locker. Sara always kept a bag packed in her car and another set of clothes in her locker. She dropped off her gear and retrieved all her spare laundry. She stuffed her backpack full of clothes and took a last look in her tiny mirror. She was tired, her face was dirty, and she smelled like the dank soil that had surrounded the scene. No one, not even Grissom, could find her attractive in her current state.
She had nothing to lose.
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