AN: Hope everyone is doing well, thank you all for your continued support and taking the time to review. Can't thank you enough.

Take care and enjoy.


CHAPTER 22

"Sometimes the end is an illusion. Check for veiled paths beyond it."


NANCY POV

Stepping to the kitchen counter, I keep my eyes fixed out the window as I pour some coffee into a mug.

Stirring the hot liquid, I glance down just long enough to be sure I'm not pouring sugar all over the place before I look back up. Taking my mug in hand, I quietly step out onto the back porch, closing the door behind me softly.

Taking in a slow, silent breath, I make my way to the railing, resting my coffee there as I pull my sweater tighter against the breeze.

It's about three o'clock in the morning, and the air is brisk and dark, the sun hours away from rising.

"Hey," I offer, not really knowing what else to say.

"Hey," Sara offers in response, her gaze remaining out in front of her.

"I made coffee," I tell her, knowing it's lame and ridiculous, but without a clue as to what else to say.

I'm at a loss for how the hell one handles a situation like this, what the 'right' thing to say is, what the 'right' thing to do is. I have no idea. All I do know is that Sara is one of the most cherished people in my life, and I have absolutely no clue how to help her right now.

Do I comment about last night? About what happened with Liam? Knowing Sara, the answer is likely no, for both. But it seems rude not to address it at all. Address what she's going through, what she went through.

"Thanks," Sara says quietly, her own thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Watching the stars together, neither one of us says anything more for quite some time.

Eventually, Sara takes a breath and finally turns her eyes towards mine. They still aren't quite meeting my gaze, but it's progress I suppose.

"Do you know when they're going to release the house?" she asks quietly.

Raising my brows, the question catches me so off guard that I have to replay it a couple times in my head to be sure I'm understanding it right.

"Oh," I eventually stutter out, "Uh, I'm not really sure."

Sara watches me a moment before returning her gaze to the night.

"You thinking of heading back there?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

She nods, eyes narrowing slightly against the glare of the moon as it passes out from behind a cloud.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need," I offer, feeling odd doing so. Maybe I was naive, but I had just assumed Sara would stay here for awhile until everything settled down.

I guess I assumed incorrectly.

"I know, thanks."

Her response is vague, much like the rest of this interaction between us. It's awkward, it's uncomfortable, and most of all it's heartbreaking.

"Sara," I breathe out, shaking my head. To hell with awkwardness, something needs to be said.

"I'm sorry about what happened with your brother. I'm sorry about everything that's happened in general."

Sara doesn't say anything, keeping her eyes locked on the horizon. The tension in her posture, however, betrays that the words have reached her, affected her.

Eventually, she shakes her own head.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

I let out a sigh at her response, not thinking as I reach out to place my hand on her arm. Instantly, Sara jerks away from me, stepping quickly out of reach.

"Don't," she gets out, her voice barely a whisper but reaching my ears without difficulty.

Closing my eyes briefly against the wave of emotion that suddenly floods through me at her reaction, I keep my distance.

"Sorry," I eventually am able to get out.

Before I can get my thoughts together into anything coherent, the back door opens and Catherine angles her head out.

She's holding her cell phone, and her gaze is anxiously hovering on the brunette who now looks even more like she wants to be anywhere but here.

"Nance," Catherine says softly, her eyes still watching Sara. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Furrowing my brows in concern, I send a look of my own towards Sara before I nod.

"Of course."

One last glance at the brunette who is keeping her gaze planted out on the mountains that it's too dark to see, I take a breath and follow my sister back inside.


"What's going on?" I ask Catherine the moment the porch door slides shut, her tense expression putting me on edge.

"The hospital called," she gets out, hands pulling at her phone as she watches Sara through the kitchen window.

"And?" I question, not even able to hazard a guess to where this is going.

"And Liam's still alive."

Eyes widening in shock, I shake my head. Of all the places I could have potentially imagined this going, that sure as hell wasn't one of them.

"Wait, what?"

Catherine continues to watch Sara's back through the window.

"I just assumed…he shot himself in the head…I assumed he was already dead…he was in surgery…" she trails off for a moment.

"He's brain dead, Nancy, but they intubated him when they brought him in because he still had a pulse," she gets out.

Her eyes rise to mine, "So now he's on life support."

My eyes clench shut in a grimace.

"Fuck," I get out, shaking my head darkly. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

I know what this means, I know exactly what this means.

"This is bullshit," I tell Catherine, clenching my fists. "They can't do this to her!"

Grabbing me tightly by the arm, Catherine pulls me further into the house.

"Keep your voice down," she warns me, eyes anxiously looking out towards the porch.

"Why?" I nearly yell, unable to keep myself in check right now. "She's going to have to be told anyway! And you know why?" I demand.

Catherine lowers her gaze, closing her eyes. She knows exactly why.

"Because she's the one who's going to have to pull the fucking plug!" I yell, knowing that she already knows the answer, but unable to keep it inside. Keep the anger inside.

"Jesus!" I yell, "Like the world hasn't fucked with her enough!"

Before Catherine can comment, the back door slides open and Sara steps inside, eyes moving between Catherine and myself.

"Everything okay?" she asks, her expression hard to read. "I heard yelling…"

Letting out a breath, I try like hell to calm myself down.

"Sara," Catherine starts, her own voice strained. "Sweetheart, I need to talk to you."

Tightening her jaw, Sara's expression tenses, and I wonder if it's in response to Catherine's use of 'sweetheart' to address her. I can't even hazard a guess right now as to the state of Sara and Catherine's relationship.

I'm pretty sure neither can they.

"Just tell me," Sara says quietly.

"Sara, I really think we should-"

"Just tell me," she repeats, her eyes searching Catherine's.

They watch each other silently for a few moments before Catherine finally lets out a breath.

"I got a call from the hospital, they've been trying to reach you."

Sara nods, her eyes moving towards me before making their way back to Catherine.

"And?"

Catherine swallows, trying not to look away from Sara's gaze.

"And Liam's on life support."

The room is so silent in the minutes that follow that I can hear each and every breath that's taken, hear the sounds of the oblivious world outside, hear my heartbeat hammering in my chest.

"Okay," Sara eventually states, her expression impossible to decipher.

"Honey, they need-"

Jaw tight, Sara shakes her head.

"I know what they need."

Catherine lets out a breath, eyes closing as she fights to hold it together right now, to not lose control of herself or her emotions in front of Sara.

Sara, for her part, is eerily stoic, looking around until she spots my keys on the counter.

Snatching them before she can even think about it, I shake my head darkly as I make my way to the front door.

"I'll drive," I barely get out as I step out into the night.


CATHERINE POV

"Miss Sidle?" the nurse questions, shuffling through a number of forms in her hand.

Standing, Sara nods, "I'm Sara Sidle."

"Do you have some identification on you?" she asks, writing something down on one of the papers.

Sara looks down, hands moving towards her pants. Then, almost immediately, she realizes that she's wearing a pair of Nancy's scrub pants that she loaned her last night when she got released.

"No," she says hesitantly. "I don't actually."

The nurse looks up, quirking a brow. Then, seeing Sara, her single brow raise turns to two. I can only imagine what this nurse thinks right now, seeing Sara's appearance. Seeing the cut across her left eyebrow, the gash in the corner of her bottom lip, the pale features, the even paler bandages just barely poking out from the sleeves of her black sweater.

Assessing Sara for another moment, the nurse takes in a breath. "Can you tell me your social security number and your personal identification information?"

"I can try," Sara offers.

With one final glance, the nurse steps up to the nearest computer.

"Social?" she prompts.

"38-55-0137."

"Date of birth?"

"September 15, 1979."

"Place of birth?"

"Tamales Bay, California."

"Mother's maiden name?"

Sara stiffens slightly, but keeps her expression neutral.

"Tannahill."

Typing in a few things, the nurse glances up.

"That'll do for now, but you're going to need formal identification before any official actions can be taken."

Sara nods, and Nancy is already out the door to figure out a way to get Sara's driver's license from inside the house currently being secured as a crime scene.

It's amazing how the small details like proper identification get completely forgotten when you are dealing with something like this.

"Doctor Furth will be out to meet with you shortly to discuss the situation with you," the nurse tells Sara, already walking away before she can respond.

I would curse her complete lack of sensitivity if it weren't ironically the best conceivable way of approaching the situation for someone like Sara. Sara isn't the type to have responded well to a nurse who pitied or attempted to comfort her. Sara is the type to want only facts, competency, efficiency.

Turning, Sara looks around briefly before making her way back to the waiting area.

It's clear that she's uncomfortable, and I absently wonder how much of that has to do with me.

Taking in a deep breath, I stand, slowly making my way towards where Sara is leaning against the wall.

I don't say anything, don't crowd her, but I stand by her, not having it in me to do anything else right now. There's no way I'm not standing by her side for something like this.

Whether we're still together or not.


After awhile, an older doctor comes around the corner.

"Miss Sidle?" he questions, looking between the two of us.

Sara steps forward, accepting his offered hand.

"Dr. Furth," he introduces himself.

"Sara Sidle."

Nodding, he gestures for us to follow him down the hall. Before we enter the room, I turn to Sara.

"Do you mind if I come in with you?" I question genuinely.

I don't know what we are to each other anymore, and I don't want to be presumptuous. I honestly don't know what I would do if Sara says no, though.

Shaking her head, Sara's eyes briefly meet mine. "It's fine."

Nodding, we enter the room together, taking a seat in front of a simple desk in what appears to be his office.

"First, I'm sorry we're meeting under these circumstances," Dr. Furth offers, directing this conversation to Sara.

Sara nods, holding tightly to the arms of her chair.

"I'm going to get straight to the point," Dr. Furth tells her, putting his pen down. "Your brother is clinically brain dead, and is on full life support at this current time. I think you know what I'm here to talk to you about."

Nodding, Sara takes a breath. "Whether to take him off life support."

Dr. Furth nods slowly, watching Sara carefully, trying to gauge her reaction to all this.

"I know this is a lot to think about, a very difficult decision…." Dr. Furth trails off, continuing to try to read Sara.

Good luck, I want to tell him.

"Actually it's not," Sara cuts in, running her hands down her legs. "It's not a difficult decision."

Eyes widening slightly at the unexpected response, Dr. Furth quirks his head to the side.

"Had you discussed your brother's wishes with him previously?" he asks.

I want to shake my head at his ridiculous question, but I'm stopped short when Sara answers.

"Yes," she says seriously, catching me completely off guard.

Turning to face her, I try to keep my face neutral against the emotions running through me. What brother and sister discuss their end of life decisions with one another when they're barely yet in their 30s?

The kind that grow up in abusive households, I remind myself. The kind that live through the murder of two of their family members and the suicide of two others. The kind that were forced at a young age to look at life, and death, differently than the rest of us.

"He didn't want anything done," she says quietly. "No life support."

Nodding with a long exhale, Dr. Furth watches Sara.

"And are you okay with that?" he asks her, still trying to figure her out.

Sara shrugs.

"Doesn't matter what I'm okay with," she tells him simply.

He watches her, eyes not giving in.

Finally, Sara lets out a sigh.

"I don't know if I'm okay with it, to be honest," she offers. "But the one thing I'm not okay with is going against what I know he would have wanted."

Taking in her answer, Dr. Furth eventually nods.

"Are you ready to proceed then? Or would you like some time?" he asks quietly.

Tensing, Sara pulls herself to a stand. "I'm ready."

He watches her for a moment more before standing and moving around the desk. "I'll go make sure all of the paperwork is in order and that your identification has been received, you can both wait here."

He leaves, and I know he was doing it just as much to really get the papers in order as he was to give Sara a moment, whether she is willing to admit to needing one or not.

Watching her, I stand slowly, taking a hesitant step in her direction.

"Sara?" I question, feeling so incredibly distant from her right now and absolutely hating it.

I want to hold her, want to comfort her, want to do anything for this woman that I still care so much about. But I honestly don't know if I have that right anymore. If she would even want that from me anymore.

Eyes glancing up to mine, Sara tries to keep hers there as long as she can before looking away.

She doesn't last more than a couple seconds.

"I'm sorry, Cath," she offers quietly. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say…"

Shaking my head, I step just a bit closer.

"Neither do I," I tell her honestly.

Looking over, Sara nods, her expression just a shade more open.

Searching her eyes, I eventually let out a breath.

"I want to hold you," I confess in a whisper. "I want to hold you so badly right now, Sara."

Watching her, I see a myriad of emotions pass through her eyes, her body trying to control them as they run through her.

Seeing her look away, she takes a breath before she turns back to face me.

Before she can respond, however, Dr. Furth steps back into the room, placing forms across the desk.

"Go ahead and sign these whenever you're ready," he tells her softly.

Our eyes still locked, Sara and I watch each other until Sara finally draws her gaze away, stepping up to the desk and picking up the forms with a deep breath. Looking through them, her jaw clenches and unclenches tightly as she makes her way through the pages.

Reaching out, she pulls a pen from a mug and signs her name in what has to be over a dozen different places. Handing the papers and the pen to Dr. Furth, she runs her hands through her hair.

"Ready?" she asks, and I know Sara well enough to know that she is dangerously close to breaking right now.

It's the set of her jaw, her posture, the expression in her eyes, all of it.

Nodding, Dr. Furth directs us out of his office and down a series of hallways.

Absently, I wonder if Sara should be walking this much yet, watching her limp which looks like it is threatening to send her to the floor at any moment.

Shadowing her closely, I stand by in case she needs me, but we come to our destination before it becomes an issue.

"This can be done as soon or as late as you want it," Dr. Furth tells her, hand on the door.

"Do it now," Sara requests quietly. "He would want it done now."

Dr. Furth nods, holding the door open for us as we step into the room.

As soon as I see Liam, I know immediately I will forever replay this image in my head. It would be so much easier if he looked different, if he looked more like a former convict who held me hostage. It would be so much easier if he didn't look so damn much like Sara.

Turning off the monitors, Dr. Furth steps up to the machines surrounding Liam's body and one by one shuts them down.

The silence that fills the room as their hums and whirring cease is absolutely deafening.

"This may take awhile," he warns Sara softly. "I'm around if you need anything."

"Thanks," Sara tells him numbly, eyes glued to her brother.

Nodding, he sends me a brief nod as well as he steps out of the room.


"How is she?" Nancy asks as soon as I make my way back out into the waiting room, giving Sara some privacy for a few minutes.

Taking a seat next to her, I shake my head, not able to form words to describe the situation right now.

Running my fingers through my hair, I clench tightly to my scalp.

"I don't know what to do," I confess to my sister, my voice wavering. "I don't know what to do for her."

Closing my eyes, I grind my teeth together.

"I can't just keep fucking sitting there watching this not being able to do a damn thing to help her!"

Shaking my head, I clench my fists tightly.

"I can't even touch her, take her hand – nothing!"

I pound my fist against the seat of the chair, emphasizing my words.

"I screwed up with her, I fucked everything up and now this is how things are between us!" I grind out. "Her brother is dying and I'm sitting there like we barely know each other!"

I clench tightly to my jeans.

"It's disgusting…it's wrong…"

Reaching down, Nancy quickly pulls me to my feet, directing us both out of the busy waiting room.

Pushing a metal door open, Nancy pulls me through it into a deserted stairwell.

Before I know what is happening, I am completely breaking down, tears falling from my face in rivers as I let out a sob that quickly turns into dozens more.

Folding me into her arms, I cling desperately to my sister, needing to feel human contact right now, needing to not feel so isolated.

"Shh," Nancy tells me, hand softly running through my hair, careful to avoid my stitches. "Alright, Cath. It's alright."

Holding me tightly, Nancy keeps me in her arms until my sobs slowly abate, my body feeling like it has nothing left in it to cry out.

Holding me out at arm's length, Nancy takes my face in her hands, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks with her thumbs.

Leaning forward, she places a kiss against my forehead.

"I love you," she tells me softly. "I'm here for you through all of this, Cath. You're not alone."

Fixing me with a look, Nancy shakes her head. "And neither is she."

I let out a breath, "It certainly feels like she is."

"It's complicated for her right now," Nancy tells me. "For all of us."

Continuing to hold me close, Nancy eventually takes a breath.

"You ready to go back out?" she asks me seriously.

Taking a deep breath of my own, I nod, straightening out my clothing.

"I'm ready."

Squeezing my hand, Nancy leads the way back out to the waiting room.


"Excuse me?" I question, getting the attention of a nurse behind the desk.

"Yes?" she asks, scribbling a note on a scrap of paper.

"Do you know where the woman went who was staying with the patient in room 115?"

Glancing down the hall, the nurse quirks a brow. "What woman?"

"Tall, brown hair, thin," I suggest before letting out a sigh. "Looks like she's been in a car accident…"

Instantly, the nurse nods, "Oh, her! Yes, she left about five minutes ago."

My expression dropping, I shake my head.

"Left?" I question, my heart starting to race.

"Oh, no," she responds. "Left, like went outside for a cigarette."

Hand rising to my chest in relief, I take a deep breath. "Which way?"

Gesturing to the sliding doors to my left, I thank her and make my way out of the hospital.

Heading outside, I squint my eyes against the sun that is barely starting to rise over the horizon, catching sight of Sara leaning against a cement wall overlooking the parking lot.

Moving to her side, I watch the horizon with her for a moment before I decide that I cannot take it any longer. I cannot force myself to pretend like Sara is just an acquaintance to me right now.

I don't know what we are, but we sure as hell are more than that. Even after everything that happened between us, she is sure as hell more than that. She will always be more than that.

"Are you doing okay?" I ask her, keeping my eyes on the sky, not wanting her to feel encroached upon any more than necessary.

"Yeah," she answers automatically. "I'm fine."

"Sara…" I breathe out, finally turning to face her. "You don't have to do that."

Sara furrows her brows, breathing out smoke into the early morning air.

"Do what?"

"Pretend like everything's okay," I tell her softly. "Pretend like you're okay."

Sara doesn't comment, turning her head to exhale the remainder of the smoke away from me.

"Catherine," she eventually says, her voice heavy. "You don't have to do this either."

Now it's my turn to be confused.

Turning to me, Sara searches my eyes a moment before shaking her head.

"You don't have to do this," she explains, gesturing between our bodies. "Us."

Her eyes grow heavy as well.

"You made it clear that there is no 'us' anymore," she tells me quietly. "You shouldn't feel obligated to be here because of what's happened now with Liam. Nothing's changed."

Letting out a breath, I shake my head in disbelief.

"Nothing's changed?" I question. "Everything's changed…"

"Has it?" she questions in return.

"Of course it has," I respond, eyes wide. "You never cheated…"

"But you thought I did," she cuts me off. "We both did."

Her eyes grow unreadable, the emotions there so heavy it's hard to isolate a single one.

"Just because it turned out not to be true doesn't take that away. Doesn't take away the fact that we both believed it."

"There were pictures," I tell her, my tone confused. "Of course we believed it."

Shaking her head, Sara shifts her weight.

"There were pictures, but then there was us. Our relationship. We should have questioned it," Sara gets out. "We should have fought harder for a relationship we claimed to care so much about."

Her eyes match mine.

"We should have just known, Catherine."

"No, Sara," I correct her. "I should have known. If anyone should have fought harder, it was me. And I am so sorry about that, I cannot tell you how-"

Sara shakes her head, cutting off my words before I can complete my apology. "It's fine. It doesn't matter."

Shaking my own head, I watch her closely, trying to figure out what is going on with her right now.

"Of course it matters, Sara," I get out.

Taking a small step closer to her, I watch her body tense as I do so.

"Why are you doing this? Saying this?" I ask, my voice a mere whisper.

Searching her eyes, I take another small step forward, watching as this time she steps slightly back.

"No," I correct myself with sudden clarity after another moment of silence. "I know why you're doing this. I know exactly why you're doing this."

I stop trying to approach her, shaking my head instead.

"Try to push me away all you want, Sara," I tell her. "I'm not going anywhere."

Sara turns to me darkly, jaw tightening. "I'm not pushing you away."

I shake my head sadly.

"Yes you are…"

"No," Sara counters, expression tight. "I'm not pushing you away because there's no point to that."

Eyes fixed on mine, she keeps our gazes locked.

"There's no point because you already walked away."

Heart clenching tightly at her words, I feel stomach sink somewhere near my feet. My body starts to go numb, my thoughts all but paralyzed.

I know what she's doing, what she's trying to do, that she doesn't mean what she's saying, but it still hurts.

And it hurts because she's absolutely right. I walked away. I walked away all too easily from the woman that I loved, so easily falling into the trap that Liam had set for us, for her.

Amidst all the things he said yesterday, he was absolutely right about one thing.

Sara would have fought. She would have fought for me.

"I'm sorry, Sara," I tell her quietly, not knowing what else there is to say to her in spite of its inadequacy.

Eyes shifting, she sees that her attempts to distance me from her in this manner have failed. Narrowing her eyes, she shakes her head instead.

"It's fine," she breathes out. "Don't apologize to me. You were right to walk away from someone you thought cheated on you."

"The point is, I should have known you never did. Never would."

Sara doesn't comment for awhile, watching the oranges and pinks spreading across the sky.

"Doesn't matter anyway," she says, repeating words I have heard her use entirely too many times in this conversation for my comfort. "Doesn't take away the drugs."

"No it doesn't," I agree, watching her profile as she attempts again to push me away, this time using the second topic revealed in those photos. "And trust me when I say we will talk about that, Sara, but not here, not now. Right now I'm here to help you through this with Liam, we can figure out the rest later."

Sara tenses, her eyes shifting downward. There is a long silence between us, and my heart beats faster with every moment it stretches on.

"I don't think I can, Catherine," Sara finally gets out, her tone strained.

Eyes lifting to mine, she rubs her temples with her free hand.

"I don't think I can do this with you here," she finally admits honestly to me, her eyes holding so much sadness that it's taking everything in me right now not to reach out to her. "I'm sorry…"

It's clear that she has stopped trying to push me away, to get me to walk away from her again. Now, she's decided to simply level with me, to ask me to walk away, and I'm finding the truth much harder to bear than all the words before it.

"I'm so sorry," she repeats, her eyes regretful. "But I can't let you see this. Can't let you see me like this right now, see me when it happens…"

"Sara," I practically beg. "Please don't do this. Don't ask me to make you go through this alone."

"Not 'make', Catherine," she corrects me softly. "Let. I'm asking you to let me do this alone."

Her eyes search mine for understanding.

"Please."

Closing my own eyes against her hazel gaze, I shake my head. I can't believe this is what she wants. But, knowing Sara, I know it's likely exactly what she wants.

She's never been good at accepting help, at letting people see her at her lowest points. Why should now be any different? Especially after everything that's happened between us, I can see how having me and Nancy around right now could simply be too much for the brunette.

But, it absolutely rips my heart apart to think of her alone in that hospital room, waiting by herself for her brother to die.

Looking up, I observe her closely, my eyes watching hers as though I can somehow find the answers for what to do there.

"Do you really mean this, Sara?" I ask her seriously. "Would it really be easier for you if we weren't here?"

In the end, if she is being genuine, I know I have to put my own feelings aside and grant her what she is asking. Even if it will tear me apart inside to do so.

"It would," she confesses, her eyes leaving mine in what appears to be shame.

"I'm sorry," she breathes out. "I know it's a horrible thing to say. I'm so sorry…"

Shaking my own head, I take a deep breath, pushing my own feelings back down.

"Babe, look at me."

Trying to hold herself together, Sara brings her eyes back to mine, her body literally shaking with the emotion she is holding inside.

Slowly, I reach forward, making sure she can see my movements and my intentions. Reaching her face, she flinches slightly under my touch, but forces herself to remain still.

Holding her face in my hand, I run my thumb across her cheekbone, eyes transfixed on hers.

"I'll get Nancy," I quietly say, not knowing what other words there are.

Sara closes her eyes. "Tell her I'm sorry."

"Stop," I correct her. "Stop apologizing for being honest."

It's taking everything in me not to pull her into a hug, to hold her.

With a deep breath, I pull my hand away, taking a step back.

"If you change your mind, I'm a phone call away."

She nods, her eyes heavy as she watches me.

We both know she won't change her mind.

"Please take care of yourself," I whisper.

She nods again, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"You too, Catherine," she tells me. "I promise to call you."

She doesn't elaborate, but she doesn't have to. She's telling me she'll call me when it's over. When Liam's dead.

I nod, sending her one last look before I turn and walk away, knowing with certainty that if I stay any longer, stand here with her any longer, I won't be able to find it in me to do so.


AN: Thanks for reading.