AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks to the reviewers, you guys make my day.

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 30

"When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

CATHERINE POV

Sara takes one last swallow from her coffee before getting out of the car.

Leading the way to the hospital doors, she lets me enter before her, moving with me to the front desk.

She's nervous.

She greeted me this morning with the same gentle smile she always does, making some small talk with me as we drove towards Desert Palm, but I know her enough to recognize when she's nervous.

For one, she was quiet. Small talk aside, she was quieter than she usually is, which says a lot.

The second major tipoff is that she looks great, light jeans combined with a form fitting dark grey sweater, but she also looks tired. Like she didn't get much sleep last night after leaving my house.

Lastly, she keeps playing with the lighter in her pocket.

Checking in, Sara and I return to the waiting room and have a seat.

It's weird being here with Sara by my side, instead of in some back surgery or exam room while I wait out here to find out if she's okay.

"Your mom couldn't come?"

Sara looks over at my question, gaze confused.

"You didn't ask her?" I question.

Sara shakes her head quietly. "No."

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but it makes me sad to think of how the brunette keeps trying to keep her mother out of these parts of her life.

Before I can contemplate further, DB enters the waiting room and Sara instinctively sits up straighter.

"Morning," he offers us.

"Hey," I great while Sara offers him a polite nod.

We wait in somewhat awkward silence for a few minutes more before we're called back.

Following a nurse down the hall, we enter a back exam room where I see Hannah waiting near the bed.

"Hey guys," she greets, eyes focusing almost immediately on Sara.

The brunette meets Hannah's eyes before looking away, hating everyone's focus being so intently placed on her.

"Alright," Hannah states, pulling out some chairs. "Sara, I'm going to have you sit on the bed, Catherine and Mr. Russell, if you don't mind sitting to the side."

We each take our places, Sara electing to lean against the bed versus sit on it.

Hannah thankfully doesn't push her.

"Sara, how much has Catherine told you about her idea?"

Sara swallows.

"She hasn't told me anything."

Hannah raises a brow before nodding. "Alright, I'll start from the beginning then."

Gazing at the brunette, Hannah places herself along the desk.

"I hear you've been banned from field work due to your seizures?"

Sara nods.

"Well, Catherine told us that in order for you to be in the field you have to be thirty days without a seizure. And we all know how much of a struggle it's been to get you to go even three days without a seizure, let alone thirty."

Sara's quiet, not commenting.

"Catherine also let us know that the rule at your office is technically written as being thirty days without a seizure, or having your condition able to be 'appropriately remedied in an effective, efficient manner'."

Sara's eyes narrow.

"Such as being diabetic but carrying insulin with you in case your blood sugar drops at a crime scene."

Sara watches Hannah, trying to figure out the meaning behind her words.

"We have a trial going here at the hospital involving seizure disorders and the use of a new treatment technique."

Hannah goes silent, trying to read Sara's body language.

Sara predictably gives away nothing, causing Hannah to continue

"We're studying whether seizure disorders can effectively be managed via the use of quick administration of benzodiazepines. We basically use something similar to an epi-pen filled with a benzodiazepine that a person can carry with them. That way, if they have a seizure, they can be injected with it and stop the seizure quickly and more effectively than having them either wait for the seizure to end on its own or come to a hospital to get the medication intravenously."

Hannah straightens, eyes plastered on Sara's.

"It hasn't been proven or approved, this is all still in trial."

Sara watches her.

"But it's been effective?" I question.

Hannah nods. "So far, yes. The results have been incredibly successful."

Moving slightly closer to the brunette, Hannah shakes her head. "But it's a trial, Sara, meaning there are risks to it. What works for other people may not work for everyone."

Sara doesn't comment, and we all know the brunette's feeling towards taking risks.

In fact, the way Hannah's staring her down right now makes me think the nurse is trying to scare some sense into the usually reckless brunette.

"What does the trial entail?" DB asks, his question serving to break some of the silent standoff.

"We basically enroll the person, get a health history from them. We give them a small dose of the study medication, which for us has been lorazepam, to be sure the patient isn't allergic. Then, if there are no negative reactions, we provide them with the injectors. We train their caregivers on how to administer them and they document every seizure, time to injection, time for the seizure to end, and so on."

"What if it doesn't work?" I ask, trying not to think about the negative, but keeping everything in perspective.

"Then we withdraw the patient from the study, noting the findings in our data. They return to solely traditional medical management."

Hannah looks us over.

"I want to be clear here," she states. "This isn't a cure for seizure disorders. This isn't a way to prevent seizures. This is simply a way of getting someone quick cessation of their seizures when they do occur so you minimize the risk for prolonged seizures and brain damage."

I nod, "But this would qualify as being 'effectively medically managed'," I state. "If it works, then it's no different than having a person who has to take insulin or a person who gets asthma attacks and carries an inhaler with them at scenes."

DB remains quiet, expression tense and thoughtful.

"I would need to see it in practice," he eventually says, voice tight.

"Well," Hannah steps in, "Before we release a study candidate, we provoke a seizure in the clinic, have their primary caregiver give the injection, and oversee the process in a controlled environment before sending them off on their own. So, you're welcome to observe."

Hannah turns, looking at Sara.

"With your permission, of course."

Sara's jaw is tight, the only one of us who's yet to say a single word.

"Sara?" I question, concerned. "You alright?"

Sara swallows, keeping her eyes on Hannah.

"Can I enroll?"

Hannah's gaze is equally as intense. "You need to read the waiver, but knowing what I do about your seizure history, you would be a candidate for the study, yes."

The tension in the room, particularly between the two headstrong women currently staring each other down is nearly suffocating.

"I think you should get the paperwork."

Hannah continues to watch Sara, moments passing before she finally nods, honoring Sara's request.

"Last time you had a seizure?"

Hannah pauses with her pen over the study intake form, waiting for Sara's answer.

"Sara," she calls, seeing the brunette's hesitance as clear as DB and I. "For the study to work, you need to be honest about this information," she states. "I cannot stress that enough."

"Yesterday morning."

My eyes, and I'm sure DB's, widen in surprise.

I saw Sara yesterday, all day in the office. Sure, she seemed a bit tired, but I had no idea…

Damn it, Sara.

Hannah makes note of this.

"How long did it last?"

Sara looks away.

"I don't know," she confesses. "I was alone."

I close my eyes, trying to contain my thundering heartbeat at the idea of Sara having a seizure alone, no one there to help her if…

Hannah writes this down before placing the clipboard on the desk.

"Alright," she calls. "Come over here."

Sara hesitates, and Hannah rolls her eyes.

"I'm not going to stab you, Sara, so stop looking at me like that."

Sara shakes her own head, quietly approaching Hannah.

"Hold out your arms."

Sara complies, Hannah doing a once over of the brunette, documenting any findings that could be relevant to the study.

"How've your ribs been?"

"Fine."

I shake my head.

"She's in a lot of pain," I contradict, drawing both Hannah and DB's eyes to me.

Sara looks tensely at the floor.

"Sara?"

"She reaches for her side a lot," I continue when Sara remains silent. "Clenches at her ribs when she moves quickly or is being overly physically active."

"We told you to come in if you were still in pain, Sara." Hannah watches the brunette who was previously staring her down, but is now looking anywhere but at her. "Did we not?"

Hannah sighs, taking a deep breath.

"Someday, Sara," Hannah breathes out quietly, "you're going to realize we're on your side."

Making notes on her clipboard, she places it back down on the desk.

"Alright," she states. "We need to get your vitals and then get you upstairs for x-rays."

Sara's eyes flash up to the nurse.

"Don't you dare look at me like that," Hannah says. "I'm not entering you into this study if you're still walking around with broken ribs."

Jaw tight, Sara sits, allowing Hannah to take her pulse and blood pressure.

She hesitates, however, when Hannah gestures to the scale.

I almost offer to leave as Sara slowly steps towards it, but the bigger part of me is desperate to know the number so I can get a better idea of Sara's weight situation.

I know it's bad. Anyone can tell that by just looking at her. But, I want to know how bad so I know how hard I need to be pushing to fix it.

Hannah looks at the displayed number, at Sara, then back at the number.

Taking a deep breath in, Hannah writes the number down, fixing Sara with a look.

"That needs to improve," she states tersely. "A lot."

"I know."

"No, Sara," Hannah shakes her head. "I don't think you do."

"I'm trying," Sara gets out through her tight jaw.

"Then try harder."

Hannah shakes her head. "Maybe if you weren't in so much damn pain you'd be a little more eager to eat something, yes?"

Sara turns away.

"Look, Sara," Hannah gets out, placing herself back in Sara's line of sight. "If nothing else, know that the medication in this trial is calibrated to someone's BMI. Low BMI means lower doses, lower chances of success, higher chances for complications."

Sara rubs her temples.

"I'm trying, Hannah," she gets out quietly. "I don't know what else you want me to say."

Hannah takes a calming breath, running a hand through her hair before reaching out to squeeze Sara's arm in a rare show of camaraderie.

"Come on," she calls. "Let's get you to x-ray."

Taking Sara out of the room, DB and I are left in silence, both of us too overwhelmed and too deeply entrenched in our own thoughts to even think about conversing with one another.

Glancing over, I hate myself for it, but I look at Sara's intake form.

Height = 5'10". Weight = 101 lbs.

BMI = 14.5.

Feeling nauseous, I wish I never looked.

"Doing okay?"

Sara rolls her eyes.

"Yes, just like the last five times you asked me."

Hannah narrows her own.

"You realize I'm not asking you for fun, right?" she questions. "That it's part of the study?"

Sara smirks.

"Sure it is."

"Good God," Hannah mutters. "How do you put up with her?" she asks me.

"Lots of meditation and scented candles."

Snorting, Hannah adjusts Sara's jeans, pulling the leg up a bit higher.

"One last shot," she says, glancing at her watch. "Then, if there's still no reaction, and none after you leave, you should be cleared for the study."

"What about the x-rays?" I ask.

Hannah hesitates, looking back to Sara.

"Go ahead and tell her," Sara rolls her eyes. "She'll force it out of us somehow anyway."

Hannah smiles. "Woman after my own heart," she says before getting serious. "Couple of cracks in three of the ribs on the left, one still healing compound fracture," she breathes out. "But no clean breaks."

"So it's safe?" I question. "Forgive me, but what you just listed sounds like a whole lot of bad."

"It's painful and not by any means good," Hannah answers. "But not medically risky in regards to the study."

"What about pain medications?" I ask. "Can't she still be taking those?"

Hannah snorts.

"You wanna take this one, Sara, or should I?"

Sara sighs, and Hannah continues.

"Stubborn Sidle still has them," Hannah tells me. "We gave her multiple refills."

Sara breathes out.

"Can't you just stab me in the leg with that last needle already?" she questions. "Get these 'harass the crap out of Sara' sessions over with?"

Hannah laughs lightly, "That, I can do."

Preparing the needle, she holds Sara's leg steady.

"Ready?"

"So glad I shaved my legs today."

Hannah tries to hide the smile from her face.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Inserting the needle, she watches Sara's vitals as she injects the medication.

Monitoring her for the required time, Hannah glances at her watch.

"Alright, ladies," she addresses us, DB having left to head out to a scene after giving strict instructions for us to meet with him at the lab after this part is over. "I think that does it for today. Tomorrow we show everyone how to use the pens, invoke a seizure, and see how it goes."

Pulling her jeans back in place, Sara stands.

"Shit," she gets out, grabbing for the bed.

"Slow," Hannah instructs, keeping a tight hold on Sara's hip. "Those meds may be low doses and you may not have had any adverse reaction," she states. "But they're still medication. Expect to feel a bit tired, dizzy."

She helps Sara as the brunette straightens up.

"If you feel any worse than this, if you start to feel like you're going to black out, if you throw up, anything," she says sternly. "You call us right away."

She fixes Sara's gaze with hers.

"Understood, Sara?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Turning to leave, Hannah takes Sara's arm.

"One last thing," she says, turning Sara back towards her. "I almost forgot."

Taking Sara's hand, she pulls the brunette's sleeve up gently.

Grabbing a silver metal bracelet from her scrub top, she holds it out.

"It's a medical alert bracelet," she explains. "You should've been wearing one of these already, but it's required for the study. Let's people know you're taking lorazepam in case you have a seizure that doesn't stop. Prevents EMS from giving you something that conflicts with your meds."

Sara stares at Hannah.

"Seriously?"

"Oh come on," Hannah says with a wink. "I think the silver goes great with your eyes."

Sara rolls her said eyes, watching Hannah as she secures the bracelet to her wrist.

"Did you need to make it so tight?" Sara questions. "And on my dominant hand?"

Hannah smiles, "Yes, and yes. Reduces your ability to pry the thing off the moment you step out of here."

Sara raises a brow.

"Oh, don't pretend that's not exactly what you were thinking, Sara Sidle."

Sara shakes her head, moving to the door.

"See you tomorrow," she offers Hannah as a peace offering.

"You alright, hon?"

Sara looks up in surprise, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"It's just, you've been pacing back and forth for the last twenty five minutes."

Sara looks around, glancing at the clock.

"Sorry," she offers quietly. "I didn't realize."

"You want to talk about it?"

Sara swallows, pulling at the medical bracelet on her wrist.

"I just, I didn't expect him to say yes."

I nod, tapping my own fingers against the break room table where Sara, DB, and I just met.

DB was hesitant about everything, but stated he would give this a shot if tomorrow's events proved to him that Sara's seizures could be stopped via this new method.

It's a shot at getting her old life back, and I know Sara's nervous as hell about it.

"It'll work, sweetheart," I tell her.

"What if it doesn't," she questions. "What if all of this is for nothing. If tomorrow it doesn't stop the seizure?"

"Then we figure it out," I state, standing to approach her.

"Sara," I call, taking her hands and forcing her to look at me.

"We're in this together, honey. No matter what happens tomorrow."

Sara swallows tightly, trying to relax.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly.

"For what?" I ask. "For being human and being nervous?"

Her silence is confirmation.

"You've always supported me when I needed it," I tell her honestly, squeezing her hands. "Don't you dare hesitate about letting me do the same for you."

"It's just…" Sara gets out. "It's not me."

"Oh, I know," I laugh. "I've noticed your independent, stubborn streak a few times over the past ten years."

Sara smiles, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Thanks," she says softly. "For all this."

"You're the one who's willing to take the chance of doing it," I tell her. "My part was the easy part."

"No," Sara shakes her head. "Your part was what gave me hope at getting back to my life. Whether it works out or not, Catherine, I can't thank you enough."

Squeezing her hands, I nod, accepting her sentiment.

"Come on," I offer, noting her features. "We're both exhausted, let's get you home."

Making our way back towards her house, Sara and I enter inside.

Sara's mom isn't around, and I know at some point we're going to have to address the issue of Sara telling her mom about the study.

Sara's going to be here alone with her mom a lot of times, and Laura needs to know about the study and be able to administer Sara the medication.

I don't know what Sara's hesitance is about this particular issue, or a lot of issues with her mom lately, but it's something that soon we aren't going to be able to ignore.

But, for now, I move with her to the couch, accepting her invitation to share a cup of coffee before parting ways.

Sara, however, barely makes it half way through hers before she's having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

Reaching out, I gently draw her to me, setting our coffees down and wrapping my arms around her as I lean her head against my shoulder.

She mumbles something to me about needing to get back to work, but I ignore her, running my hands softly through her hair until her mumbles cease and her breathing evens out.

Holding her, I allow my own eyes to close, feeling safe, comfortable, and blessed with Sara in my arms.

I could really get used to this.

AN: Thanks for reading.