AN: Thank you all so much for the continued reviews. I keep trying to write every chance I get and post as quickly as I can, but I apologize for the time it has been taking between posts. It is not nearly as fast as I would like it to be, nor as fast as you guys deserve. I will keep trying to get things posted as quickly as possible.

Ha, Tanith Tumultuous, I was wondering if anyone would ask that. It was actually part of a previous plot point that got written out of the story. But, I left it in there by accident and when I noticed decided to just leave it, figuring no one would likely notice or think too much about it anyway. But, since it's still in there and you clearly noticed, it can be any reason you'd like it to be I guess. Perhaps the top was sharp? Perhaps Sara wanted the excuse to help Catherine? Perhaps Sara has a fetish for metal fences and didn't want to share? ;)

Hope everyone is doing well.

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 39

"Striving to better, oft we mar what's well."

William Shakespeare

CATHERINE POV

"You look nervous."

Spinning with my hand over my chest, I feel my heart hammer inside my ribs.

"Holy hell," I curse, taking a couple deep breaths.

"Sorry."

Settling my nerves, I turn from Claire's front door to instead face my previously unnoticed companion on the porch.

"I am nervous," I admit once my breathing has resumed to something resembling normal. "I left my girlfriend to stay the night with her ex."

I shake my head.

"Her ex who also happens to be beautiful and kind and a thousand other things that make a girl nervous in this sort of situation."

"Maybe you should trust your girlfriend more."

"Oh, I trust her," I counter. "I just…"

I let out a breath, shrugging, "I'm just human, I guess."

Standing, my companion comes closer, watching me before reaching out to place a lock of hair gently behind my ear.

"You have nothing to worry about, Catherine."

Pulling me close, she holds me in her arms.

"Nothing at all."

Breathing deep, I return the hug, wrapping my arms tightly around her.

"Sara…"

I trail off, not quite knowing what to say.

Or, more accurately, not quite knowing where to begin with everything I want to say.

I've wanted to hold her all night, to see her and feel her and know that she's okay.

Pulling back, Sara studies my expression, her own eyes worried as they take in my still anxious gaze.

Clearing her throat, she glances towards my car in the drive.

"Where's my mother?"

"She's spending the day with her therapist from the treatment center she was at."

"Good," Sara nods quietly, voice tight.

Looking up, Sara can barely meet my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Catherine," she gets out. "For last night...what you saw…"

"I wanted to be there," I counter without pause. "And I'm glad I was."

Sara doesn't respond, instead remaining quiet as she runs her foot along the porch floorboards.

"Where's Claire?"

"She was inside having breakfast."

"Why aren't you having some with her?"

Sara's eyes lower before they focus somewhere behind me.

"Sara…"

"She has a lot of questions," Sara finally states. "Questions I don't particularly care to answer."

"Like what?"

I know Sara has told Claire the major points regarding Sara's past. I don't know what Claire could be asking that has Sara avoiding her.

"Just…questions."

Deciding I'm not going to get any further with her right now, I gesture towards the door.

"Let's say our goodbyes then?" I propose. "Get out of here?"

Sara nods immediately, silently moving past me to open the door and enter the house.

Claire's place is beautiful.

It isn't extravagant by any means, but it's tastefully and very precisely decorated. It's easy to tell that a lot of thought went into every detail of every room, every item in every room.

"Catherine," Claire greets, turning from her place at the sink. "I was just cleaning up, but can I get you something? Coffee?"

"No, thanks," I smile. "We're actually going to head off, but I wanted to thank you for watching over stubborn Sidle last night."

I send Sara a look.

She returns mine with a look of her own.

"Hopefully she didn't give you too much trouble."

"No," Claire shakes her head. "Quite the opposite."

"Good."

I turn back towards Sara.

"Would you mind starting the car?" I question. "I think I left my purse in there and I don't want it sitting unattended."

Sara pauses a moment at my clear lie before taking a breath and heading to the door, "Sure."

Finally moving her gaze to Claire, Sara swallows.

"Thanks…."

Claire nods, "Of course. Take care, Sara."

Sara heads out, and I turn my gaze towards Claire.

"How was she really?"

Claire shrugs, tossing the dishtowel on the counter with a sigh.

"Barely spoke, seemed to come out of her daze about an hour after we got here. Was confused, and a bit pissed, to see where she was."

The taller woman shrugs, "She wanted to leave, head back to her house to watch her mother, but I wouldn't let her. She had no car and no way of fighting me on it, so she finally gave in and pretty much spent the rest of the time in semi-angered silence."

"She sleep at all?"

"Not that I saw," Claire answers. "She stepped out to smoke a couple times but I kept an eye on her from inside."

Sighing, I reach out to squeeze Claire's arm.

"Thanks again for doing this, Claire."

"Sure," she says, pretending like it's no big deal what I asked of her.

No big deal what effects my asking her likely had on all of us.

Making my way to the door, I take one last breath before heading outside.

"So, you think Claire's beautiful?"

Sara's voice drifts through the car's interior, blending in with the noises from the tires as they proceed swiftly across the road.

Seeing the small smile pulling at her lips as she watches the scenery, I can't help but smile slightly as well.

"You, uh, want me to leave the two of you alone longer next time?"

Swatting Sara across the shoulder, I shake my head.

"Oh shut up…"

Sara laughs lightly, the sound one I've missed hearing lately.

It makes me hesitant to break this lighthearted moment. But, not hesitant enough to stop me.

"Sar…"

"Where are we going?" Sara's question breaks into my statement, seeing us passing by the turn off that would lead to either of our houses.

"Sara…" I try again.

Jaw setting tightly, she notes the direction we're headed.

"No, Catherine…" she gets out. "I'm not going there."

"Your hand needs medical care, Sara. You have blood all over you and you haven't moved it at all since I got to Claire's."

"My hand is fine."

Her body is as tense as her tone, all her senses on alert as she watches the mile markers pass by.

"Catherine…" she calls out in warning, seeing that I'm not slowing down.

"You're either getting your hand looked at or you're flinging yourself from a speeding car," I respond, not giving an inch. "Your choice."

Damn her, she tries the door handle.

She seriously fucking tries the door handle.

"You put the safety lock on," Sara grinds out lowly. "Not much of a choice."

"Thank God," I express without regret. "Otherwise I'd apparently be calling DB to help me pick up your body parts along the side of the road."

Chancing a glance in her direction, I look at her incredulously.

"Is the idea of the getting help really so awful you would try to step out of a speeding vehicle?"

"I was hoping you'd slow down once the door was actually open…"

"Sara, this isn't funny."

"I'm not laughing."

Sighing, I know we can't be having the conversation that we need to have here. Not like this.

"You're seeing a doctor." I send her a stern look. "You're not going to fight me on this, Sara Sidle."

I made a promise to myself to help Sara, to not keep giving in and letting her self-destruct.

This is what it means to stick to that promise.

Falling quiet, Sara turns away, intense gaze focused out the window.

Her silence is almost harder to take than her anger.

"She done?"

Hannah nods, stepping out from the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

"She's just signing some of the paperwork, finishing up with the doctor."

Sighing, Hannah looks me over, no doubt seeing the stress radiating off me.

"Want to tell me what happened?" Hannah questions. "Her hand was pretty messed up, looks like she went at someone or something pretty violently."

"Something."

Shaking my head, I pinch my temples.

"Something," I repeat. "Not someone. Thank God."

"Are you worried it could have been someone?" Hannah presses, eyes plastered on mine.

Getting what she's hinting at, I shake my head adamantly.

"Sara? No, God no," I breathe out. "She…"

I trail off, not knowing quite how to describe Sara. She's always been passionate, intense. She sometimes has this darkness, this anger, about her that seems to run from somewhere deep inside her.

But, that anger, while there, is always directed towards some noble target. A guilty suspect, a violation of justice, a wrong that wasn't brought right.

Never at the innocent, never at the undeserving.

And, she's never the first to strike.

The times I've ever known Sara to physically engage with someone else were in self-defense.

The only other times I've seen Sara lash out besides in self-defense were times when she was lashing out in self-directed anger. Kicking a locker after a case takes a bad turn, hitting the door of the Tahoe when we're too late to stop a killer from taking another victim.

Hitting the side of her house because she was being asked by her own mother to commit murder.

"Sara has a lot of anger in her," I admit quietly, not sure who I'm speaking to more, Hannah or I, as my thoughts continue. "But, unfortunately, when all is said and done, a lot of it ends up being directed solely at herself."

Looking up into Hannah's eyes, I meet her gaze.

Hannah watches me closely, taking in the meaning behind my words.

"I heard about what she did for those girls in that warehouse…we all did…"

Hannah's eyes leave mine..

"The things you two went through…."

She looks back towards me.

"Sometimes things like that change a person, Catherine."

"Not Sara," I counter tightly, not liking what she's insinuating. "Not the woman who literally died for a girl she barely knew, who died for me."

I shake my head angrily.

"Not the woman who spends every day pushing herself through her pain to try to put murderers behind bars, the woman who is still killing herself to try to protect everyone around her, the woman who smiles and shrugs me off every time I try to get her to slow down, take a break. The woman who is spiraling downward right in front of me, because I can't figure out what in the hell I can do to get her to drop her guard and let me be the one to protect her!"

Hannah's hands take hold of my shoulders, the contact jarring me from my rant and bringing my location back into glaring focus.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, seeing a few curious visitors and patients glancing at me as they pass by. "I'm sorry…"

"No," Hannah breathes out softly, shaking her head as she squeezes my shoulders. "I'm the one who's sorry."

She meets my eyes.

"You're right, I've been Sara's nurse for a while now, but I don't really know her at all. I have no right to judge her."

Hannah lets out a breath.

"And I think we have the same problem on our hands," she confesses quietly. "I'm not sure I know how to help her either. Every time she comes in I keep wondering what I'm doing wrong. Her weight, her seizures, her pain management…"

Hannah pulls away slightly to run her hands through her hair.

"I think we need to stop clashing when it comes to Sara and instead join forces on this. In the end, Catherine, we have the same goal."

Feeling Hannah give my shoulder one last squeeze, I meet her eyes.

"I'm with you on this," Hannah promises me. "I want that stubborn woman that you love to get herself back on her feet so the two of you can have the long, happy lives together that you deserve. She can fight it all she wants, but Sidle isn't going to slip away into that darkness she always seems to be hovering in. Not on my watch. However I can be of help to you, Catherine, just tell me. I'm here."

"Let me."

Entering the room, I bat Sara's hands away from her jeans, taking hold of the ends of her belt.

Drawing the leather through the buckle, I pull the belt tight across her hips.

"What did they say?" I question, pulling the extra leather through the loop at her left hip.

"Some breaks," Sara says quietly, eyes watching me.

"How many? Where?"

Sara's eyes follow my movements as I grab her t-shirt from the hospital bed.

"A couple along the knuckles, the fingers…"

Sara's voice trails off, gaze following my hands.

"Catherine…"

I don't answer, gathering her t-shirt together and folding it. She has on a black tank top, she can just wear that instead of trying to get this back on over the hard plastic brace over her hand and wrist that-

"Catherine."

Sara's voice cuts through my thoughts, the brunette looking at me intently.

"What's wrong?" she questions, voice gentle and concerned.

"Cath…" she tries again, this time bringing her good hand up to raise my chin.

"What's wrong?" she questions again, eyes searching mine.

"We need to talk," I tell her, eyes barely able to stay on hers as I watch her gaze grow even more concerned at my words.

"Okay," she swallows. "Of course…"

"Not here."

Sara nods slowly after a moment, trying to keep her expression neutral. But, she swallows tightly, her tense posture giving away her nervousness at my ominous statement.

Her hazel eyes search mine one last time before she swallows again.

"Okay."

Straightening up, she keeps a supportive hand along the small of my back, moving with me as we make our way through the hospital corridors back towards the car.

"I love you-"

"Catherine…"

"No," I cut in, placing my hands gently across Sara's chest. "Please, sweetheart, I need to get this out."

The car ride was torture. I can't keep this in any longer now that we've stepped inside.

Sara looks conflicted, like she wants to step in and make this all okay, to take the tears and stop them from falling from my eyes.

Silently she nods, taking a breath and letting me continue.

"I love you so much, Sara," I tell her, the words echoing through her empty house. "Which is why it's been so hard for me these past months to see you suffering-"

"Catherine, I'm not-"

"Sara," I place my fingers across her lips, my voice begging. "Please."

Sara's jaw tightens under my fingers, but she finally nods.

I keep my fingers across her mouth anyway.

"You've been shot, you've been tortured, you've been through multiple surgeries, you've been battling through one violent seizure after another…"

I try to keep my voice steady, my fingers shaking against her lips.

"You won't ever admit it to me, but you're suffering. You're in pain. You think I don't see it, but I do, honey."

Sara's eyes hold the tension, the denial, the contradictions that her mouth cannot express.

"You're fading away from me, Sara. And I'm terrified."

My other hand reaches out to grasp her hip and hold her tight.

"I know you're trying to get better," I tell her honestly. "I see you struggling every day to push through, trying so hard to get through this on your own."

I fix her gaze with mine.

"It's not working."

Gripping her tightly, I hold on strong as she tries to pull away.

"You're the strongest person I know, Sara Sidle, but you can't get through this alone."

"I'm begging you, honey," I tell her softly. "I'm begging you to let me help you. Things need to change."

Feeling her tight breathing against my fingers, I shake my head.

"It's been torture watching you destroy yourself because you're too proud and too stubborn to ask for help."

Sara's eyes are no longer on mine, the brunette staring intensely off behind me.

Feeling her body nearly shaking with tension, I tentatively remove my fingers from her mouth. But, I keep my hand firm along her hip.

Seconds go by in silence, then minutes.

It soon feels like hours.

"I'm sorry."

When her whispered words finally break the silence, it's not the words I was expecting. I wanted to confront Sara about my feelings for a while now. To tell her that things needed to change, that I wasn't okay with continuing on like we were. That I wasn't going to let them continue. I expected anger, resentment….

I didn't expect an apology.

"I'm sorry I've made you feel that way," Sara states quietly.

Forcing her eyes to mine, she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry that I've scared you."

She searches my eyes.

"I never want to scare you or hurt you, Catherine. And for that I'm sorry."

She takes in a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

"I haven't wanted to make you worry, though, either. Because, really Catherine, I'm okay."

She shakes her head, cutting me off before I can protest.

"I'm working towards being okay," she compromises. "And despite what you think, I'm getting better. But…"

Letting out a breath, she uses her good hand to wipe the tears from my face.

"If things how they are are causing you this much distress, then I agree - they need to change."

Leaning forward, Sara places a gentle kiss along my lips, the warmth of her body spreading to mine.

"I hate seeing you upset, Catherine," she gets out, voice quiet near my ear. "Tell me how to make this easier for you."

Pulling back slightly, she again meets my eyes.

"Whatever you need me to do for you to stop worrying, I'll do it."

I search her eyes, trying to read her hazel gaze.

Pulling her towards me, I hold her close, encircling her in a tight embrace.

My heart lifts as I hear the words I've been longing to hear, the response from her that I can't believe I was blessed enough to get.

Pulling back just far enough to kiss her softly, I feel her hands run gently down my back, her body fitting so perfectly with mine.

I revel in the feeling of her touch, but at the same time a distant sinking feeling gathers in the pit of my stomach as part of me wonders if this wasn't perhaps a bit too easy.

Her behavior a bit too perfect.

AN: Thanks for reading.