AN: Thank you to the reviewers – you are all inspiring and appreciated.

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 22

"Affliction, like the iron-smith, shapes as it smites."

Christian Nevell Bovee

CATHERINE POV

"Where is she?"

"Catherine?"

"Nick, where is she?!"

Nick glances around, eyes wide at my frantic tone.

"Uh, I think she headed to the garage to work the car from our scene…"

I need nothing else.

"Catherine!" Nick's voice trails after me, but I don't care.

Bursting through the garage door, I hear a curse as Sara pushes herself out from under the car she was working on in confusion.

"Catherine?" she questions, even more confused at seeing who it is that just barged their way into the room.

"Remote…"

"Catherine…"

"Where's the remote?!" I gesture towards the television on the wall frantically.

"Oh, uh…" Sara glances around. "On the desk."

Grabbing it, I turn on the television.

Turning from me to the tv in confusion, Sara immediately recognizes the scene displayed.

That courthouse needs no introduction.

Seeing the text under the news reporter, Sara's body tenses.

"They have a verdict."

I nod, both of our eyes glued to the television as the reporter carries on about how they've gotten word that a verdict has been reached.

"I was on my way here…heard it on the radio…" I breathe out quietly, gaze focused on the television.

Sara doesn't comment, her own body focused and rigid.

Staring for what seems like hours, we both tense as the news reporter stops mid-sentence, moving to place her hand over her earpiece.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she states quickly. "We've just gotten official word from our sources inside the courtroom regarding the verdict."

She pauses, eyes squaring themselves to the camera.

"In the case of the state of Nevada versus Nathanial Redder, the jury has returned with a verdict of guilty."

I don't hear anything else, the room falling to numb silence as the crowd around the reporter reacts to the declaration.

Turning, my hand reaches to cover my mouth, words still unable to come forth from my stunned lips.

Sara's gaze is still on the television, the tall brunette looking intensely at the reporter.

Turning her gaze to mine, she closes her eyes briefly.

Moving towards her, I don't think twice about my actions, not hesitating a moment as I take her into my arms.

Holding her close, I feel the tears making their way from my face to her shirt.

"It's over…" I breathe out.

Sara shifts slightly, moving to wrap her arms around me and return the embrace.

She's quiet, but I can feel the emotions running through her, the pull against the stoic brunette's composure.

Someone enters the room, but quickly leaves once seeing the scene before them.

Instead of pulling away, Sara tightens her hold, moving to place her head atop mine.

"It's over," she finally agrees, voice strained.

Holding her tightly, I relish in this rare moment of unity between us, this moment of closeness that isn't complicated by anything outside of our shared relief at finally finding justice for this case.

For the victims.

For ourselves.

"You really didn't have to do this."

"Nonsense," I wave the brunette off, continuing to focus on the road as I switch lanes.

"That bastard is off to jail, you deserved an early escape from work."

"And the coffee?" she questions, raising her cup before taking another sip.

"Just a bonus."

She snorts.

"Look Sidle," I raise a brow. "If someone wants to do something nice for them, you let them."

Sara smiles, turning her gaze to the passing scenery.

"Noted."

To be honest, I know after watching the news coverage, neither one of us wanted to be around hoards of people right now.

The whole chaos of the verdict is something both of us wanted nothing more than to avoid.

So, I asked DB if I could take Sara out for coffee, cut her workday a bit short.

Russell seemed nothing short of ecstatic to have someone all but forcing the brunette to take a break.

And, I'm just happy Sara finally agreed to join me.

"Cath…"

About a mile from her home, Sara's voice draws me from my thoughts.

Her tone is unusually nervous, her hand anxiously gripping the seat as she places her coffee back into one of my cup holders.

"Yeah?" I question. "What is it, Sara?"

"Catherine…"

Sara's tone is tight, her eyes squeezing shut as she clenches her teeth together.

"Sara?" I call out in concern, never having seen her this panicked.

She doesn't answer, and I hesitate only a moment before pulling the car off to the side of the road.

Immediately, Sara has her belt undone, throwing her door open and stumbling outside.

"Sara!"

Throwing my own door open, I dodge around the front of the car, catching up with Sara just as she reaches the sidewalk.

Where she immediately drops.

"Sara!" I scream, reaching out for her just as her body hits the cement.

About two seconds pass before her thin frame begins convulsing violently.

"Shit!" I yell, trying to grab her head to keep it from banging against the pavement.

Reaching around her, I try to restrain her similar to how Morgan had, but it's hard to keep my grip on her thrashing form.

Focusing on her head, I at least try to keep it from the pavement, figuring I need to prioritize.

"Sara," I call out, remembering to glance at my watch.

Morgan and Sara both seemed intently focused on how long her previous seizure lasted, and I try to note the time of this one.

"Sara, honey…"

Seeing the seconds tick by, I'm unaware of the world around me, only focusing on the thrashing form of the brunette in my arms.

"Come on, Sar…"

Strangled noises are forced from Sara's throat as she convulses, her eyes rolled back in her head.

It's terrifying to witness.

And, it's especially terrifying to witness it happening to Sara Sidle.

Always the picture of controlled composure.

Seeing her body tortuously convulsing, it's heartbreaking.

"Come on, honey," I plea, knowing it's idiotic, but not having it in me to remain silent while she convulses.

Her body continues seizing.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit."

Just when I'm about to grab my phone and dial 911, Sara's body suddenly goes still.

"Sara…?"

Nothing.

Sara's body remains limply laying across the sidewalk.

Then, suddenly she stiffens, coughing slightly as she tries to move.

"Woah, hang on there," I call, drawing Sara's confused gaze upward.

Meeting my eyes, she closes her own in what looks like shame.

"Damn it…"

"It's alright, Sara," I try to calm her. "Let's just take this part slow, though, alright?"

She's quiet, hands reaching out to try to get some leverage.

Taking her hands in mine, I'm both startled and heartbroken at how easy it is to restrain her.

Her body is so weak right now, and I can feel her struggling to even take in shallow breaths.

"Let's get you sitting up," I state, using one hand to restrain her wrists while the other places itself behind her shoulders to help lift her to a sitting position.

Sara's body is leaned heavily against my hand, and I know with certainty it's not by choice.

The tortured look in Sara's eyes is all I need to see to let me know it's not by choice.

"It's alright," I tell her gently. "I'll help you to your feet and we'll get out of here, okay?"

Sara keeps fighting to move, to gain back some of her independence.

But, her body is clearly winning the battle over her willpower. She can barely keep herself upright, let alone have the strength to stand.

"I'm going to let go of your wrists," I tell her. "But you try any nonsense and I promise you I'll use your cuffs."

Sara's gaze shifts to mine briefly before looking away.

Wasting no more time, I let go of Sara's wrists to wrap one of her arms around my shoulder instead.

Then, wrapping my other arm around her waist, I lift her to her feet.

Standing with her for a moment to allow her to get her bearings, we move slowly towards the car, Sara's movements clumsy and awkward.

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't you dare finish that statement," I order. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

She swallows tightly, one hand moving to clench her side.

Flashing back to her mother's comments about her ribs, I suddenly start to understand why the brunette is still in pain.

Depending on when these seizures started, there's a good bet that her ribs have been struggling to heal in between these violent seizures she's been having. And, having witnessed two of them now, I know there's no way those types of convulsions can be easy on a still recovering body.

"You okay?" I ask, seeing her pale complexion, her fingers clenching her side tightly.

"Yeah."

I don't know why I bothered asking.

Getting her to the passenger side of the car, I help her get into the vehicle, buckling her seatbelt before quickly jogging around to the driver side.

Pulling back out onto the road, Sara's head drops back to rest on the seat.

"How long?"

Trying to keep my voice steady, I clear my throat.

"Minute fifty three."

Sara clenches her jaw.

We travel the rest of the short distance to her house in silence.

Opening her door, Sara takes off her seatbelt with trembling hands.

"I got it from here," she says.

Like hell.

I cross my arms over my chest, watching Sara try to struggle out of the car, hell bent on trying to do this herself.

Seeing her clinging to the door, she's clearly come to the realization that she's stuck, her legs trembling even worse than her hands.

"Damn it, Sara," I call after a minute of stoic refusal to ask for my help. "Don't move your stubborn ass."

Shutting off the car and rushing to her side, I resume my hold on her.

"Why the hell are you so obstinate?" I question, moving with her slowly up the drive. "You'd have stood there for hours before asking me to help you."

She shakes her head. "I'd have resorted to crawling before then."

I shake my own head. "I sadly have no doubt, Sidle."

We're about halfway up the drive when we hear the front door opening.

"Shit," Sara curses beside me, trying to stand up as straight as she can. "Don't you dare tell her…"

"And what am I supposed to say?" I grind out. "She's clearly noticed something is wrong…"

"Just…I don't know," Sara offers unhelpfully.

Her mother, however, takes the decision from us when she quickly descends the steps.

"When?"

Neither of us say anything, drawing to a stop.

"When was the seizure?" Ms. Sidle questions, moving her gaze between us.

"Catherine?" she asks, likely knowing her daughter is a lost cause.

"About five minutes ago."

"How long?"

I hesitate.

"Minute fifty three."

Laura tightens her jaw, unknowingly mirroring her daughter's reaction.

"Come on," she says, moving around to take Sara's other side. "Let's get you in the house."

"I'm fine," Sara mutters, absolutely hating this.

"Like hell," Laura and I both state in unison.

Getting into the house, Laura and I place Sara down on the couch, her mother disappearing deeper inside.

"What?" I question in a whisper when I see Sara's expression.

She shakes her head at me.

Before I can respond, Laura appears with a glass of water and two pills in her hand.

"Take them," she commands Sara, and I can't help but smile.

Laura is a woman after my own heart when it comes to dealing with the stubborn brunette.

Sara hesitates a moment.

"I have stuff to do," she argues. "I can't keep passing out for hours from those damn pills."

"You also can't keep trying to fight though the pain," Laura responds, gesturing to where Sara's hand has resumed clenching her side.

Removing her hand with a tight swallow, Sara looks away.

"You need to try to give your body a chance to heal, Sara," Laura states quietly. "These seizures aren't helping you in that regard, so a couple hours of rest is a damn good thing for you right now."

Sara lets out a tight breath.

Taking the pills, she swallows them dry.

Giving us both a glare that would be more intimidating if she didn't look so damn frail right now.

"Catherine," Laura says, keeping her eye on Sara, probably to be sure she doesn't try to do anything stupid. "If you'd like, I can show you what to do when she's about to have a seizure. I've learned some tricks over the years from when she was a kid."

Sara's gaze shifts from me to her mother.

"The case is over, mom. Catherine's going back to Washington," Sara says. "She doesn't need to know about that stuff."

Sara's words have started to slur, and I can see the heaviness pulling at her eyes.

Those pills, combined with Sara's underlying exhaustion, are a Godsend.

Sara fights the pull of sleep valiantly for a couple more minutes before eventually her weakened body succumbs.

"Finally," Laura states.

Snorting, I can't help the smile on my face as I help her lower Sara into a laying position, Laura grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch to cover the brunette's legs.

Leaning over, Sara's mom gently takes Sara's hand from it's resumed position along her side, releasing the brunette's tight grip and moving it to lay gently across her stomach instead.

"Laura," I call out softly when she straightens back up.

Laura's eyes meet mine.

"I'd really like to learn what to do when she has seizures."

Laura's gaze searches my own.

She's more than perceptive enough to read between the lines.

"Alright, Catherine," she gestures towards the kitchen. "Let's have a seat."

AN: Thanks for reading.