AN: Hope you are all doing well. Thank you to the reviewers, it's for you guys that the chapters keep coming.

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 43

"Present time can be hard, but life unfolds as it will and the universe will wait as we make our way into the unknown."

– Unknown

CATHERINE POV

"Oh God, I can't move."

I cringe, looking over at the prone body next to mine.

Running my hand gently up and down her back I grimace.

"I'm sorry, honey…"

Sara grunts, "Don't apologize," she tells me with a light laugh. "Don't ever apologize for…you know…"

I laugh, images of this morning's fevered 'activities' fresh in my mind.

I think any reservations Sara and I had about intimacy have been officially exorcised.

Multiple, multiple times.

Now, it's like we can't get enough of each other, all but ravishing each other every moment we get.

Running my fingers over the marks marring Sara's back, I cringe again slightly.

"Perhaps we were a little too…aggressive?"

And, we equals me.

Sara's personality is often dominant – in control and carefully calculated. She has a presence about her that commands respect, an intensity that makes you almost pause.

But, in bed, she's probably the most respectful lover I've ever had.

Her touches are reverent, cherished, precise.

Everything is done with intense focus, intent purpose, her body always studying my own and my reactions and adjusting accordingly. It's like she's figured out the blueprints to my body, her eyes studying my reactions and pursuing all the things she can clearly see bring me pleasure.

And then, she surprises me with touches and styles that I've never even conceived of or would have ever thought I'd enjoy.

It drives me, and my body, absolutely wild.

I, on the other hand, am a bit more aggressive in my actions. While Sara cherishes each purposeful touch, each precise motion, I simply cannot resist my urge to have her body under mine, every inch of her skin being touched by me, her body having no time to adjust to my current areas of focus before I'm already transitioning to the next.

For someone who always needs to have things figured out to the millisecond, it throws the calculated brunette completely off balance.

It keeps her body, and her mind, guessing.

And, someone as intelligent and perceptive as Sara, I don't think that's a feeling she gets to experience very often.

"So," I broach nervously. "You're not perturbed by…things…"

Turning over onto her back so she can look up at me, Sara runs her fingers gently down my side.

"I love you, Catherine."

Her answer is simple, succinct.

Leaning in, I kiss her softly.

"I hope you still love me when you look in the mirror."

Glancing down, Sara sees the nail marks marring her shoulders, her chest.

Eyes widening, she looks at me before shaking her head, letting out a light laugh.

"Let's just hope no one asks why I'm wearing a turtleneck sweater in 90 degree temperatures."

I smile, trying not to picture the boys' expressions if they saw what lay across Sara's skin.

The evidence of our passion, our recent activities.

"Yeah," I agree. "We wouldn't want to give Greggo a stroke."

Smiling, Sara runs her hands softly through my hair.

"Breakfast?"

"Sure. But only if you let me help."

She looks ready to argue, so I silence her with a kiss.

"I mean it," I tell her as soon as I pull away.

Studying me a moment, she finally agrees, pushing out of bed to grab her discarded boxers and t-shirt.

Pulling them on, she gives me one last smile before heading out of the room.

God, what a way to start the day.

As I turn the corner into the kitchen, I let out a contented sigh.

"Hey, Sar, do you th-"

My words instantly drop off when I see a third person joining us.

There, in the middle of the kitchen, sits Laura.

"Hey," she offers tentatively, eyes moving between me and Sara who is standing stock still.

"Hey," I eventually state when I've gathered myself enough to speak.

Blushing, I pull the sweater tighter around my nightshirt.

"I made breakfast," Sara's mom offers, gesturing to the table where a myriad of food is spread out.

My brows raise, "Wow, this is…"

I cautiously move closer, grabbing a muffin.

"Thanks."

Nodding, she pours me some orange juice, sliding the glass down the table.

"Sara?"

Laura's voice is hesitant, the woman barely able to look in Sara's eyes.

"Why don't you grab something?"

Sara remains still, her body not moving.

Then, without warning, she steps back.

"No thanks."

Turning, she grabs a hoodie from the counter and is through the back door.

Hearing it close soundly, my eyes lift to Laura's.

"I…"

I trail off, gesturing to the porch.

"I should probably go see if she's okay."

Laura shakes her head, placing her own glass of juice down on the table.

"I think I'd like to be the one to check on her," Laura counters, looking at me. "Please."

For the first time, I see determination in her eyes. I see a light, and a drive that wasn't there before when it came to Sara.

It seems like she's finally elected to take responsibility for their relationship, to stop avoiding and regretting mistakes of the past. To finally act accountable for her role in Sara's life and take the initiative to move things forward.

I'm not going to stand in her way.

"Of course."

Nodding, she gives me one last look before she steps outside after her daughter.

I watch their interaction discretely through the window.

I can't help it.

The last time a confrontation occurred between Sara and her mother, it ended with Sara holding her service weapon to her own head.

I know Sara well enough to trust that she would never do what that moment suggested, but I think when it comes to Sara's relationship with her mother, there's such a deep level of hurt and anger that there's entirely too much uncertainty for my comfort.

For right now, it's difficult to see anything regarding their interaction, but I'm not even considering leaving them alone.

Sara and her mother are standing against the porch rail, facing away from me.

I can tell they are talking – well, mostly Laura is talking.

But, at least Sara is listening.

Or, at least not walking away.

Rinsing some of the dishes near me, I keep my eyes on the occupants of the back yard as I tidy up some of the food left out from breakfast.

Saving a plate for Sara, I glance up again when I see Laura walking back toward the house.

When she enters into the kitchen, she sends me a soft smile.

"I'm going to go out for a bit," she states. "Give you guys some privacy."

"You don't have to…" I hedge, hating to see her feeling like she has to evacuate the house just because Sara and I are here together. She lives here, too.

"It's for the best."

Laura's statement is semi-ominous, but she clarifies no further, grabbing a few things before she exits out the front.

Sighing, I glance around me, blowing some strands of hair away from my face.

"Eat."

Startling, Sara turns in surprise at the sound of my voice.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Sara doesn't comment, looking between me and the plate in my hands before glancing back out to the yard.

"I'm serious, Sar."

I keep my tone gentle, but firm.

Sara's been making some progress in her recovery these past weeks, and I refuse to have the progress stop now.

"Cath…" she shakes her head lightly. "I don't think I can right now."

"Please?"

Sara lets out a breath, eyes conflicted as she tries to give me what I want.

When she reaches for one of the strawberries on the plate, however, I notice for the first time that her hand is shaking.

"Sweetheart," I breathe out, instantly putting the plate down.

She looks confused, a deep crease in her thoughtful brow.

"Babe," I call softly, taking her hands in mine. "Stop. I'm sorry."

Sara tries to pull her hands away, no doubt afraid I'll feel her shaking limbs. She doesn't realize I've already noticed.

"Hey," I hold her hands tighter, careful of her right hand still in the black brace. "Look at me."

Sara's eyes dodge mine, until, finally, she brings her hazel gaze up.

"Are you okay, honey?"

Sara nods, "I'm fine."

I wait her out, letting her know I'm not taking her typical reflex answer.

Not today.

She sighs, looking away.

"I'm okay, Cath. I just…"

She swallows.

"My mom just has a way of rattling me sometimes, I guess."

I didn't need her admission to know that. But, it helps to hear Sara admit it aloud. To hear the woman with armor as thick as a small country admit that she's rattled. Admit that she's less than 'fine.'

It's a small step, but at the same time a huge one.

Letting go of one of her hands, I wrap my free arm around her shoulders instead.

Holding her close, I don't push her further, just letting her know I'm here for her.

"My mom's thinking of leaving."

My eyes widen, moving to look over at Sara's profile.

"What?"

Sara doesn't repeat herself, knowing I've heard her just fine.

"Why?"

I feel Sara take a deep breath.

"She senses that our relationship is moving forward, getting more serious, and she doesn't want to be in our way here."

"Sara," I draw out softly. "You and your mother should take priority, not me."

Sara turns, readjusting our positions so that she's the one holding me.

Her eyes are heated, almost angry.

"Are you kidding?"

"No…"

"Catherine, my top priority is you. It's always going to be you."

"She's your family, Sara. It's different."

Sara stiffens, her expression almost looking like I slapped her.

"You…"

She stops, swallowing, trying to maintain her composure.

"You are my family, Catherine."

She tries to loosen her clenched teeth.

"That woman…she's…"

Sara's words drop off, the brunette pushing away from me.

I wait her out, not interrupting this moment.

She turns her back to me, drawing a now drastically shaking hand through her hair.

I don't have to be facing her to know that she is barely keeping herself from breaking down.

"I…"

She trails off.

"I hate her."

Saying the words aloud, Sara finally breaks.

Strangling a sob, she tightly clenches her hands, turning herself as far away from me as possible so I don't see her losing control.

Oh, hell no.

Taking her shoulder, I try to turn her gently. But, the second my hand makes contact, she flinches away, retreating rapidly until her back makes contact with the house and she has no further left to go.

"Honey," I try gently, my voice cracking as I struggle to witness her in so much pain.

"I hate her…" Sara drags out of her tight throat. "I hate her because I don't hate her."

She pushes out at the house in anger, palm hitting angrily against the siding.

"She killed my dad…but I can't…"

Sara's eyes look distraught, her body now shaking as badly as her hands.

"She's my mom…I look at her…and I remember the bad…but I also remember the good…"

Her eyes are tortured.

"It's worse than if I just hated her like any decent person should."

I desperately want to touch her, to comfort her. But, I know Sara, and I know that in this moment that's the worst thing I could do.

She'd only push me away, hurting us both.

So, I force myself to keep the distance she's put between us.

"Sara," I call out gently, recognizing the implications, the importance of this moment.

She paces back and forth, hand jutting out to hit the porch railing in anger each time she passes.

"Sara," I call out, waiting for her to stop.

When she finally ceases her paces, she pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Sara, honey."

Her eyes, when they finally lift to mine, hold what can only be described as shame.

"Sara," I tell her, my heart breaking at the sight of this distressed woman that I love. She's always forcing herself to be so strong, so brave. "It's okay, babe."

Sara starts to shake her head, but I don't let her pull away from me emotionally like she has physically.

"Is that what you've been so afraid of all this time with your mom?"

Sara pauses, her body going almost completely still.

Her eyes no longer meet mine.

"It's okay…" I start, wondering if I should say what I'm about to.

Seeing her tortured expression, her struggles to keep herself together. Her never ending battle with her emotions regarding her mother, I make a decision.

"It's okay that you don't hate her. And, more importantly Sara, it's okay that you still love her."

Sara's jaw clenches, her body literally jerking at my words.

She shakes her head, pressing herself back against the house as if she wants to put every inch available between us.

"The fact that you still love her doesn't make you weak, doesn't make you a bad person, doesn't make you violate your father's memory."

I shake my head.

"Do you know what one of the first things I noticed about you when you came to Vegas? One of the first things that, looking back, contributed to me falling in love with you?"

Sara is clearly thrown by my question, the shift in conversation.

She remains silent, eyes avoiding mine.

"You remember that case with the drunken driver we caught the first couple months you were here? The young man who killed that little boy on his bike?"

Sara doesn't answer, and I know her better than to wait for one.

"He turned himself in the next day, in tears and beside himself at what he'd done."

I shake my head at the memory. "I stormed out of that interrogation room in disgust," I confess to her. "I couldn't look at this man who, in one drunken night, destroyed that little boy and his family."

I swallow, fighting my own emotions that thinking back to that case harbors up in me.

"You were so quiet that whole rest of shift," I tell her. "So quiet and hard to read."

I smile slightly, thinking about how not much has changed on that front.

"But when shift was over, you left right on time for the first time since you'd joined our team." I shrug. "I got suspicious so I followed you."

Sara pauses, her eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

I get a feeling that the perceptive brunette is shocked that someone was following her and she didn't notice.

"I followed you as you drove past your neighborhood and to a house whose address I just finished filling out reams of paperwork on."

"I watched you go to that family, those parents who just lost their son, and tell them face to face that we had the driver in custody. You didn't avoid their grief, their loss, to give them the news they deserved to hear in person. But," I state, "it's what you said as you left that I remember most."

I look at her, tears now coming from my own eyes as I continue to force myself to keep the distance that she wants between us.

"That boy's mother asked you what you would do at trial, what charges you would press against that young man if he had killed your son."

"I remember the look on your face, the hesitance to your expression, but the conviction in your voice. In the end, you told that woman your honest opinion."

I take a hesitant step forward.

"You told her you looked into the eyes of a truly sorry, truly distraught young man this evening. And, that you would try to be a strong enough person to look past your grief so that you could look at the situation with your heart, instead of your anger. You said you would try to remember that the driver made a horrible mistake, a terrible choice, but that he's also someone's son. You said you would hope to inspire change by what had happened, so that no one else's sons or daughters had to pay the price that your son had. And, you didn't think that could be done with him sitting in a jail cell for the rest of his life."

I pause, wiping at my eyes.

"You told her, if all else failed, you would think about what your son would have wanted, and trust in that."

"The family didn't press for life like their lawyer wanted. They stated enough damage had been done and all but let him off."

I smile, "I looked him up about a year later, just out of curiosity. He's a police officer now, volunteering every weekend at a program for kids teaching against drug and alcohol abuse, and speaking at high schools about drinking and driving."

I take another hesitant step forward.

"It takes more courage to forgive than to hate, Sara."

Sara swallows tightly.

"Not everyone deserves forgiveness," she gets out tightly, tone dark.

"Yes," I agree. "But, Sara, the thing I learned about you that night, and what has only been confirmed time and time again throughout our years working together, is that you have an uncanny ability to judge someone's character. You always seem to know who's worth forgiving."

She shakes her head, trying to turn further away.

"You trust yourself with everyone else," I tell her gently. "You need to start trusting yourself when it comes to your own life."

"Everything okay with you guys?" Hannah questions, glancing warily at the quieter than usual brunette sitting silently on the hospital bed.

"Long day," I offer simply, knowing there's no way to possibly describe the emotional morning we had.

Sara and I have barely even spoken between the two of us, exchanging a few words here and there before we had to leave for her scheduled check-up.

"Okay," Hannah offers, not prying, but keeping her concerned eye on the brunette.

"Well," she takes a breath. "Her progress is still not as far as I would like it to be, but things are finally moving in the right direction at least."

"Her hand?" I question, watching as Sara absently tugs against her brace.

"Still fractured in a couple places, I'm afraid. So, much to her displeasure, the brace is staying on for a little while longer."

I nod, knowing Sara won't like it, but she's been through much worse.

"The seizures?"

Hannah takes a deep breath, and instantly my heart starts hammering. Sara's just here for a routine check-up, but the look on Hannah's face is scaring me.

She pauses, letting out a sigh. "I can't tell, but I think she had a seizure recently. She won't give me a straight answer, but she's not tracking well."

My eyes widen, instantly shooting towards the brunette who is now standing by the window.

"What does that mean?"

Hannah pauses.

"What does that mean?" I demand anxiously.

"I want to do some tests."

"Hannah."

The nurse lets out a breath. "Sometimes seizure disorders can progressively worsen, leading to bleeds or damages in the brain after particularly aggressive or frequent seizures."

I feel my eyes threatening to fall from my head.

"You're talking about brain damage. That Sara could…that she could have…"

I trail off, unable to finish.

Hannah reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my arm.

"Right now I'm just saying I want to do some tests."

Suddenly, the confrontation with Sara on the porch this morning seems so long ago, another world away.

The issues with her mom seem to pale in comparison to this conversation I'm currently having.

With everything else that's been going on, it's sometimes easy to forget that Sara's still in the middle of battling a serious seizure disorder.

"Does she know?"

Hannah shakes her head, "I thought it'd be best to tell her together."

Sara looks up as we enter, pushing away from the wall.

"Hey," she greets, standing to her full height. "We ready to go?"

"Not quite," I state quietly, voice desperately trying to remain steady.

Sara, perceptive as she always is, immediately picks up on my expression, my tone.

"Catherine, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

She moves closer to me when I don't answer, her eyes darting to Hannah for explanation.

When silence follows, Sara turns her full gaze on Hannah.

"Tell me."

Hannah holds out her hands.

"It's nothing to panic about, Sara, but we just want to run some tests."

"Tests for what?"

"You're having trouble tracking movement, Sara."

Sara's brow furrows, her eyes now moving between Hannah and I.

"What're you talking about?" she questions us. "I'm fine."

"Sara…"

Sara looks over at my pleading tone, my eyes desperately searching her own for understanding of my need for her to not fight us on this.

Reaching over, she takes my hand, keeping her eyes on Hannah.

"What…" she swallows. "What do you need me to do?"

Feeling my hand trembling in her own, Sara turns to me.

"Shh," she tells me, drawing me close to her.

Holding me tightly in her arms, she runs a hand soothingly through my hair. "Everything's okay, Cath. Everything's going to be fine."

She pulls me back slightly so she can place her eyes on mine. "Everything's going to be okay, Catherine," she promises. "You hear me?"

I nod, trying to keep myself together.

Turning, Sara keeps her protective hold on me as she faces Hannah.

"What do you need me to do?" she repeats.

I run my thumb across Sara's knuckles, back and forth, over and over.

I try not to think back to the time not so long ago when I did this after her surgeries. When we weren't sure if she would pull through.

This isn't the same situation, I remind myself. This is just her needing to be sedated for a brain scan.

"It's okay," Sara whispers to me, her gaze gentle. "Everything's okay."

I try to smile, appreciating her always trying to protect and calm me. And, her ability to somehow always succeed at it.

Sara's gaze shifts from mine to the door.

I follow after, seeing Hannah standing by the doorway.

"We're ready," she tells me. "Would you like me to sedate you here, Sara? Or wait until we get into the scanning room?"

Sara looks to me, her gaze silently questioning what would be easier for me.

"Here," I request, not ready to let her go.

"You sure?" Sara questions, wanting to spare me witnessing anything that could be less than calming.

"Please?"

Sara nods, squeezing my hand and looking over at Hannah.

"Go ahead."

Hannah takes a deep breath before approaching the hospital bed.

"Lay back all the way, Sara."

Sara complies, keeping her hand in mine and threading our fingers together supportively.

"I'm going to place the IV first," Hannah informs, hanging an IV bag from Sara's bed and running the fluid through the line. "This is just saline."

Readying the needle, she looks at Sara.

"Ready?"

Sara nods, keeping her eyes on mine as she rubs the back of my hand soothingly, trying to keep me calm.

Inserting the needle into the back of Sara's hand, the brunette doesn't even flinch, her expression remaining focused on me.

Securing it in place with tape, Hannah turns to gather two syringes from the tray.

"Alright, Sara, this is it," she says softly. "These are the sedatives. Once I inject them into your IV, you should be under almost immediately."

Sara nods, pulling me downward.

Placing her lips gently against mine, she kisses me.

"I love you," she tells me. Pulling back, she smiles softly. "See you soon."

"You better."

Sara looks over at Hannah.

"Go ahead."

Hannah places the first syringe into Sara's IV.

Pushing the plunger down, she squeezes Sara's shoulder.

"You're doing great, Sara," she calls. "You may start to feel lightheaded and notice a cold feeling spreading through your body. Don't fight it."

Reaching over, she takes the other syringe and quickly injects it into the IV.

"Breathe deeply Sara," Hannah coaches, noting Sara starting to stiffen. "Just breathe, sweetheart, don't fight against it."

Sara's hand tightens against mine, her eyes starting to roll back as she desperately tries to keep them focused.

Her body stiffening, she moves to reach out clumsily with her other hand.

"Keep breathing, Sara," Hannah coaches, grasping Sara's wrist and holding it gently against her chest to keep Sara from hurting herself. "You're okay. Everything's okay, hon. Relax."

Finally, Sara's body goes from stiff to limp, her hands now completely held up by Hannah and I.

Replacing Sara's arm gently to her side, Hannah looks over at me.

"It's time," she tells me.

Taking the hint, I squeeze Sara's hand still in mine, leaning in to place a kiss into her soft hair.

"I love you, too," I tell her. "I'll be waiting right here."

Looking up, I nod to Hannah, giving Sara's hand one final squeeze before letting go.

"You okay?"

Sara nods, spitting into the sink.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Expect to feel nauseous for the next couple hours," Hannah tells her, helping her sit back on the bed. "The sedatives are working their way out of your system."

Sara nods, her hand finding mine and squeezing.

"I'm okay," she tells me, recognizing the fear in my eyes.

"You just threw up," I counter.

"And now I feel a ton better," she winks at me.

I have to smile, so appreciative of Sara's calming nature.

Her seemingly endless strength.

When I think back to all she's been through, all her body has been put through, I'm amazed at her resiliency.

Not to mention her ability to always be there to help me through right along with her.

"How long before we get the results?" Sara asks, clearing her throat to sound less hoarse.

"A couple days."

Hannah looks at both of us.

"I'll call you as soon as the doctor completes the report. I promise."

Sara and I both nod, appreciating her recognition of this as a nerve wracking experience that will have us on edge until she calls us.

"You did great today, Sara," Hannah offers, showing a rare sense of warmth between her and the brunette.

I think Hannah is finally starting to admit to herself that she has a soft spot when it comes to the stubborn young woman.

"Thanks," Sara doesn't give her a hard time. "Can I go?"

Hannah laughs, reaching over to help Sara cut the hospital bracelet from her wrist. "You're all set. Your clothes and everything are in the bag on the table."

She sends us a soft smile.

"Talk to you in a few days."

"Catherine, do you have a minute?" I glance up, seeing the brunette in my doorway. "I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something…"

"Oh?" I inquire, glancing up from my desk. "Talk about how you shouldn't be here today after you spent the better part of the morning throwing up in your shower?"

Sara fights a smile.

"Not quite. I think we're still going to have to agree to disagree on that one."

I snort, placing my pen down and crossing my arms over my chest. "Come on in."

She enters my office, tapping the case file in her hands anxiously against her thigh.

"We never really got a chance to talk after our conversation yesterday."

"Sara…you don't have to say anything…"

She shakes her head. "Please? It's been on my mind."

She shrugs, "Plus, if it turns out I am getting brain damage I may forget what it was I wanted to say to you…this could be your only chance."

She ducks just in time to avoid my pen smacking her in the chest.

"That's SO not funny, Sidle."

She smiles before getting serious. "I know."

She lets out a breath.

"Look," she says. "I don't want to make a big deal about this or whatever, but I just wanted to thank you. You've always been so supportive of everything regarding me and my mom. I just wanted to say I appreciate your continued support."

"It's a process," I tell her. "And I'm here for you, Sara. No matter what you ultimately decide to do. Always."

I reach across the desk to take her hand.

"Just like you've always been there for me."

Sara leans across the desk, placing her lips on mine.

She tastes amazing, and I have a hard time not getting lost in the lavender scent of her shampoo.

"Ugh, my virgin eyes! Get a room!"

Sara and I both laugh, pulling apart as we see Finn making a face at us from the layout room across the hall.

"I'm, uh, going to go," Sara laughs, a light blush crossing her cheeks.

I agree, but can't stop myself from reaching across and pulling her down for one last kiss just for good measure.

"Now get back to work, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am," Sara smiles, exiting into the hall where I see her send a defiant grin Finn's way as she passes the blonde by, complete with an introduction to her middle finger.

That's my girl.

AN: Thanks for reading.