AN: Thank you to the reviewers - you guys have brightened my days beyond words. I wanted to respond to a couple people's comments regarding the length of the story - yes, this will be a long journey like most of my others. We have a long way, and a lot of ups and downs, yet to go :)

As always, hope everyone is doing well.

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 16

"He who knows all the answers has not yet been asked all the questions."

Unknown

CATHERINE POV

The next few days are a blur of emotions, blur of activity.

Sara's body is weak and exhausted, the brunette spending a lot of time sleeping. When she's awake, she has a hard time focusing through the pain and the medications she's on to manage that pain.

I stop by every day to see her, holding her hand as she sleeps and talking with her quietly when she's awake.

She always seems to know when I'm there, her hand instinctively lacing her fingers with mine when I hold it.

Her grip, despite her broken body, is always tight and firm. It's such a simple thing, but it goes such a long way in making me feel like Sara is back and that she's eventually going to be okay. The strong, stoic woman that I've known her to be is represented in that grip, and it brings me comfort beyond words to have it replace the limp one when she was first brought in.

Rubbing my thumb along her wrist, I watch her as she sleeps. Her chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, her breathing limited by the tight wrappings along her ribs. I'm careful to avoid the IVs in her hand and arm, rubbing slow circles along her skin.

"Sara Sidle…" I breathe out into the silence, shaking my head.

As if hearing my voice in her subconscious, Sara's hand holds mine tighter, her grip firm and confident.

My hand is the only one Sara ever holds like this, and the simple action gives me hope.

Hope that maybe, if there is something there between us, that I'm not the only one who feels it.

"It's ice chips."

"It's solid."

"It's ice chips."

"Sara…"

She sends me a look.

"It's ice chips."

"I heard you," I shake my head. "All forty two times."

She rolls her eyes, "Come on, really? What's an ice chip going to do to my insides?"

"I don't know," I tell her. "Which is why I'm not the doctor who put you on a clear liquids only diet."

"It's clear."

"It's not a liquid."

"Ice chips are a liquid, just liquid after a thermodynamic shift in states."

"You're not getting me to give you any."

Sara glances over at the side table with the pitcher of ice water.

"Don't even think about it," I raise my brows. "You have one working arm, use it wisely before it finds itself tied to the bedpost."

Sara raises her own brows.

"Wow, you have a temper."

"You have a stubborn ass."

Sara smiles slightly.

The brunette eyes the water one last time before letting out a resigned sigh.

"You want some water at least?" I question, trying to find a compromise and feeling a bit bad for the girl.

She's been on a clear liquids only diet since she's been here, and it has definitely lost its luster with her.

She nods in resigned agreement, holding out her hand to carefully accept the offered cup.

Guiding her hand, I keep mine close to hers as she takes a couple swallows.

"Thanks," she says.

"You should drink more," I tell her, hating to see how pale she is, how frighteningly thin she's become.

I know they're giving her nutrients and everything through her IVs, but still, it's hard to see.

She appeases me by taking a couple more swallows.

We fall into silence, my hand tapping along the edge of the cup she handed back to me.

"How are you?" Sara quietly asks.

I smile slightly. "Same as I was every day you've asked me so far."

Sara shakes her head, "I keep asking every day because I keep waiting for you to be honest."

"I'm okay," I tell her just like I have every other time.

She searches my gaze.

"Catherine…"

"Look," I state with a shrug. "I'm okay, really. I'm not the one who almost died. Or, more accurately, who did die."

"Cath…"

"No," I cut in, for the first time really expanding on my answer. "I broke my wrist, that's it. You're the one with a list of broken bones that you and the doctors still aren't completely sharing with me, a whole host of lacerations and other injuries I probably don't even know about."

Sara watches me silently.

"I'm the one who got off easy."

"Stop," Sara cuts in. "There is nothing 'easy' about what you went through, Catherine. Don't belittle what happened to you like that."

I start to protest, but she shakes her head.

"No," she says seriously. "This isn't some competition where the person with the longest list of injuries in their medical chart had the 'toughest' experience or some bullshit like that. What you went through was hell, plain and simple."

She reaches out, pulling my hand into hers.

"It's okay for you to feel angry, hurt, upset, and everything else about what they did to you." Her eyes are fixed on mine. "But, the one thing it's not okay for you to feel about what happened is guilty."

I look away, hating her ability to always read me, to know exactly what I'm thinking.

She squeezes my hand.

"I mean it, Catherine."

She waits until my eyes are back on hers.

"Nothing of what they did was your fault. Nothing they did to me or any of those other girls is your fault," she keeps her gaze firm. "They're the only ones to blame here."

I wipe at a tear moving silently down my cheek.

"But you…seeing you like that…Sara…"

Sara brings our joined hands to her lap.

"I know," she breathes out. "And I'm sorry you saw that," she shakes her head. "I'm fine, though, Catherine," she insists. "I'm going to get the hell out of this damn hospital, and I'm going to be just fine."

I wipe more tears from my face.

Squeezing my hand, Sara brings it to her face.

Gently kissing my hand, she sends me a small smile.

"My 'stubborn ass' won't have it any other way."

I can't help but smile in return.

"Sara…" I trail off.

Not knowing how to express everything to her that I want to, I simply settle on returning her kiss to my hand with a kiss of my own to hers.

"Thank you."

She nods quietly, once again lacing our fingers together as we sit together in comfortable silence.

In the next week, Sara grows more and more awake, her body still healing, but her mind back to her insomniac self. She tries to force herself to sleep at least eight hours a night to allow her body to heal, but during the day she's awake every minute of it.

Which means she's bored as hell.

Sara's never been good at sitting still, waiting. So, her body being so battered that she can't even cough or breathe deeply without severe pain is damn near killing her. She wants to get up, leave the hospital. Do anything but feel like a prisoner trapped in her own body.

I try to visit her often, to help occupy her racing mind and restricted actions.

We've taken to having daily matches of chess. It's something that requires very little physical movement on her part, but allows her mind to be challenged.

Though, playing chess with Sara is a lot like it was playing with Gil. The challenge is pretty one sided, and it ain't coming from me.

But, I will state that I've improved steadily over the course of the week. Our matches now last more than fifteen minutes…

"Check."

Sara's voice pulls me from my thoughts, my mind focusing on my next move.

Moving a rook over, I watch her as she contemplates the board.

Her gaze is intense, analyzing the possible moves and the possible outcomes.

It's in these moments that I'm reminded of just how brilliant Sara is. Her mind works in a way and at a speed that many people could barely fathom let alone achieve.

She moves her queen.

"Check."

And so the game continues, the pursuit of Sara's attack upon my king until its inevitable downfall.

But, this time it took her nearly forty five minutes.

"Check mate," Sara eventually whispers, eyes almost regretful as she downs my king.

"Good match," I offer. "Thought I might've had a chance there for a moment at the beginning."

She smiles, "So did I."

Smiling back, the room again falls to silence.

This time, however, the silence is a bit less comfortable.

Though Sara hasn't said anything, I know she remembers my kissing her. It was ill timed in the sense that it was early in Sara's recovery, a time when she could barely keep herself conscious, let alone be expected to reciprocate.

But, now that she's at least mentally back to being Sara, I can't help but feel like we should be addressing the issue that's been hanging unspoken between us.

I fear that, if she felt the same way, she would have said something by now, or at least asked for clarification.

But, then again, this is Sara Sidle we're talking about. The master of veiled emotions and intentions.

On my end, being here with her for this part of her recovery, it's made me realize that my feelings for her are real. That they aren't just in response to my fear of losing her.

Knowing she's here to stay, I still want her all the same.

It's killing me not to know whether she feels that way too.

The timing is terrible, for so many reasons, but my racing thoughts and emotions need answers.

I need to know where we stand, so that I can figure out where we go from here.

"Cath?" Sara's concerned voice pulls me from my thoughts.

Her eyes are worried, her hand reaching out to take mine.

"You okay?"

I try to smile at her, but tears for some reason start to fill my eyes instead.

"Catherine," she calls more firmly, eyebrows furrowed in concern at my tears. "What's wrong?"

I could put off broaching this topic now, but I know if I don't do it now then I'll regret it.

Sara's great at avoidance and internalizing her emotions, but I'm not.

I grip her hand in both of mine, my thumbs rubbing anxiously across her skin.

"I…"

I trail off, clearing my throat.

"Sara…there's something…"

Again, the words refuse to come.

Seeing her kind, quiet, supportive gaze, I lose my intentions of explaining anything to her.

Instead, I elect to show her.

Leaning over, I carefully remove the chess board from the bed, setting it aside.

Then, I watch Sara carefully as I lean towards her.

My eyes meet with hers, gazes fixed as I move closer, making my intentions clear.

Her eyes move towards my mouth, then back to my eyes again. Her breathing has shifted from shallow to practically absent.

Reaching out, I gently place my hands along the sides of her face, my gaze remaining on hers.

Leaning closer, my mouth pauses just inches from hers, the last moments of hesitation before I fully commit.

Then, I steady myself and close the distance between us.

Or, I try.

Getting within mere millimeters of her lips, Sara turns away, her head twisting against the gentle grip of my hands.

Immediately, I pull back, removing my hands from her like I was slapped.

Sara's head is still turned away from me, her breathing quickened.

Her expression holds so many emotions I cannot sort them out.

"I'm sorry…" I whisper. "I thought maybe….you felt…but…"

I fall speechless, my hands damn near trembling.

"I can't."

Sara's whispered words echo through the room, her eyes now downcast before she forces herself to turn back and face me.

"Catherine…I can't…"

She tries to steady her voice.

"I can't be that person for you…I'm sorry if I did something to make you think…"

She trails off, and I wave my hands, trying to keep my composure.

"No," I tell her, trying to force a smile. "It's fine."

She looks tormented, her expression pained.

"Catherine, it's not you, I just don't…"

"It's fine," I cut her off, squeezing her hand before pulling away. It suddenly feels too painful to touch her. "It's my fault…I shouldn't have done that."

I stand, putting space between us.

"It won't happen again."

Sara's pained eyes watch mine.

The silence is deafening.

"I'm actually going to go," I tell her. "I need to…"

I trail off, not even bothering to make up an excuse to leave. We both know damn well why I'm leaving.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I offer, breathing out deeply, trying again to force a smile to my face.

My eyes meet with hers one last time.

Her hazel gaze holds deep sadness, apology.

I walk out, shutting the door behind me.

My heart beats rapidly against my chest. A deep sinking feeling spreading throughout my body as I fight to keep my composure even as moisture pricks at my eyes.

I guess I have my answers.

AN: Thanks for reading.