AN: Hope everyone is doing well. Thanks again to those that take the time to read and review.

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 6

CATHERINE POV

"This isn't a game anymore!"

"I never thought it was…"

Sidle's almost bored tone pisses me off nearly to my breaking point. I'm literally about to crawl out of my skin here, and she looks like she's focused on something a million miles away.

"They hacked my phones, Sidle! They've been in my fucking hotel room!"

This, finally, gets her attention.

She doesn't say anything, but I can see the immediate change to her focus. Thoughts firing through her head, her motions of untying her shoes frozen.

"You were right, okay?" I force out while she still tries to adjust to the startling news I just dropped on her. "I believe you now, alright? This damn case has people fucking following me. And now I want to know why! I deserve to know who the hell is watching me!"

Sara swallows, and for the first time she looks something other than stoic and detached.

"That won't help," she tells me warningly, standing up to her full height. "That will make this worse. Unimaginably worse."

She shakes her head, fingers anxiously flexing and clenching as she continues to work through the rapid thoughts in her head. Looking around to confirm we're alone in this latest desert location of hers, she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head. For once voluntarily letting me see her eyes.

"They're trying to figure out how much you know." Sara's tone is dark, stern. "You cannot, under any circumstances, say anything related to this case, or indicate in any way that you've made any sort of progress."

"No issues with that," I scoff darkly, looking at her like she's crazy. She knows perfectly well just how far I'm buried in the dark on this case. "I haven't made any progress. Not any real progress, anyway."

Then, hearing my own words aloud, I slowly search Sara's concerned gaze. The words repeat themselves through my head. My words. Her words.

"Which was your intention all along," I breathe out. "You knew from the beginning what would happen to me if I did find any of the answers to the questions I've been asking. You knew they were watching and that they'd find out the second I learned something of value. And then they would…"

I trail off, not able to finish and speak the words aloud.

Searching my young companion's eyes, it's like I'm starting to see beneath her façade, catching the briefest and slightest of glimpses through to the real Sara Sidle.

"Jesus, you haven't just been protecting Gabe this whole time, not really. You've been protecting me."

Sara watches me, eyes fixed on mine as she tries to get some sort of read on me.

Then, for the first time since I've met her, she genuinely smiles. It's slight, and barely there, but it's amazing the change it makes to her features.

"You've made it very, very difficult," she confesses with a quirked brow along with the slight pull to her mouth. "But I've tried as best I can."

"So you aren't normally this much of an ass?" I question, suspecting now that Sidle likely acted and behaved how she felt she needed to get me off this case and back to Montana as quickly as possible.

Be as obstructive and defensive as she could, not give me the slightest lead or piece of evidence in this case. But, more importantly, don't make herself likable or relatable in any way, so that I gladly call her a cold bitch and and happily send her off to spend the rest of her years in jail the first opportunity I get.

She knew that to let me in, to give me the motivation or opportunity to get any answers in this case would be like letting me tie my own noose around my neck.

Sara laughs slightly, bringing me back to my question lingering between us. "I'm usually an ass," she counters. "Just not pointlessly an ass."

"Noted."

"Look," Sidle grows serious, her expression changing back to the somber, dark expression I'm used to. "You need to file your report and get out of here. You've seen firsthand now that this isn't a joke, that I'm not lying to you about you being at risk."

I watch her, her words running through my head, all the thoughts that come with it. Yes, I should leave. That part is obvious. But, as much as this recent turn of events has made this case all the more dangerous, it's also made it all the more important.

If there are people going to these lengths to protect what is going on here, then it begs the question of just how deep and serious the things are that they're trying to hide.

You don't bug people's phones, search their hotel rooms, if you aren't hiding something big.

And, Sidle here seems content to just send her martyring self to jail while whoever the hell is doing this stays untouched. Untouched and lurking around a city that my best friend happens to be in the middle of.

Unless…

God, I've been so stupid.

"You have a plan. This whole time, you've had a plan."

Sidle looks up at me, or more accurately down at me with her added height.

"You need to stop right there and leave this alone," she warns.

"While you do what?" I question. "I see this two ways. Either you plan to get yourself thrown in jail and let whoever these people are do their thing in peace, or you're planning something on your own to try to stop them."

Stepping forward slightly, I place myself in her personal space.

"I don't know you, Sidle, but from what I've learned about you through your file and your history," I tell her, "I know that you're reckless."

Her jaw clenches, her body tensing under the weight of my words as her eyes shift away to the mountains.

"You're reckless, you're stubborn, and you push things and people with no regard to yourself or the consequences." I turn her jaw back to mine with my fingers, not letting her look away. "You aren't finished working this case either. You have a plan and it doesn't end with you in jail and them free to continue doing whatever the hell this is all about. You wouldn't let that happen."

Sara's body is tense, her jaw tight under my fingers.

"What are you planning, Sidle?" I ask her quietly. "Because trying to do this alone, you're going to get yourself killed."

Sidle watches me before letting out another ghost of a smile.

"Stop," she says softly. "Or people might think you care about me."

Shaking my head, I can't help the small smile that comes to my own face.

"You're right," I tell her, "You are an ass."

Sara laughs lightly before she grows serious.

Gently but firmly, she pulls herself out of my grip, putting distance between us.

"I'm being dead serious here, Miss Willows. I need to know you're leaving this alone. They've already gotten too close to you. I can't let someone else lose their life because of me," she confesses, voice burdened with emotions she struggles to hide from me. "I can't have more blood on my hands."

She meets her gaze with mine, eyes filled with so many things that are so much harder to watch than her previous empty stare. This Sara Sidle, the one who looks like she's nearly drowning with guilt over Gabe's death, the one struggling to keep me safe no matter the cost, is much harder to witness.

Frustrating as she was when she was acting like a cold bitch to get me to walk away from this case, that version of Sidle was almost easier to take than this one. This one that's still working desperately hard to hide her hurt, her emotions from me. The one who's finally revealing just a glimpse of her true self despite her best efforts.

"Please."

I shake my head quietly, wanting to give her what she wants but knowing I can't.

"I won't let you get yourself killed on some solo vigilante mission, Sidle. I can't have your blood on my hands if I just leave you here."

"I'm not your responsibility," she counters tightly. "And I have everything under control."

I raise a brow.

"Really?" I question. "Those people with connections as deep as they clearly have, you're equipped to take them on? By yourself?"

Sara doesn't answer directly.

"I've told you everything I can," she says instead. "Walk away from this."

"So that's it?"

"That's it," I confirm.

Gil takes in the file in front of him.

"Well this isn't good at all."

I snort lightly at his ability to understate almost anything.

"CSIs are excellent at solving cases," I tell him honestly. "Which means they're also great at obstructing them, should they so desire."

I let out a low sigh. "And Sidle, that's definitely what she desires."

"But why?" Gil breathes out, rubbing his hands in thought, no longer paying attention to the papers in front of him.

Not like they had anything useful written on them, anyway. Just a whole lot of "CSI Sidle left the scene…CSI Williams died as a result." Things that were obvious before I came here.

I'm a damn good CSI, and it's pissing me off to no extent that I made absolutely no progress on this investigation thanks to Sidle's purposeful actions. And perhaps more infuriating is the fact that I find myself in this position because of a CSI nearly 10 years my junior. Someone who's been doing this a hell of a lot shorter than me.

I shouldn't be successfully stumped by the actions of someone who practically just had the ink dry on her forensics degree.

But, part of me is glad to not have to lie to my friend. On my way over here, I'd decided that two people can play this game. Sidle wants me to act like I've discovered nothing on this case. That part is easy. My report is pretty legit in that it indicates she's guilty of leaving the scene and that's about it.

She's been successful enough in her mission to keep me in the dark for that to be the extent of the truths that I know.

But, she also wants me to walk away from this. And, that's the part where we're going to have to agree to disagree.

Now is time to start doing things my way. I file this crappy report, people see I know nothing. I'm off their radar, Sidle thinks I've given up.

Win, win.

But, I fully intend to keep working this case under the table on my own. I'm a CSI, and it's my duty to damn well get those answers that I was brought here to get, to get justice for this case. Especially a case as seemingly important as this one.

The only difference is now I know I need to be a hell of a lot smarter, and cautious, about it.

"She had every opportunity to help herself," I state to Gil, hating to see himself blaming his own actions for Sidle's current position. I still don't know who to be fully blaming, but I know for sure it's not him.

Seeing his drawn features, I reach across his old and chipping desk to take his hand in mine.

Giving it a squeeze, I breathe out.

"For whatever reason, your CSI doesn't want to be saved by us, Gil. You can't take that as a personal failure. She made her decision. If she wants to go down, that's her call. But, please, don't let her take you down with her."

Gil lets my words sink in, not commenting.

Then, after a moment or two, he finally squeezes my hand back in return.

"I filed my report."

Sidle doesn't answer, sitting with her back to me.

Hesitantly looking around, I note the lowering sun, the darkness slowly creeping over the park.

The lack of other cars around.

Sidle sure as hell likes to pick some creepy places to run. But, at least these remote locations take us away from any listening ears and prying eyes. The ones I now feel all but crawling over me.

Which, I suspect is part of her reasoning for coming out here.

"You hear me?" I ask. "I did what you said and gave them a crappy report that lets them know just how little I understand about this case. Which is not a lie. So, I guess that's it then."

There's no comment, just the sound of the desert around us.

"Sidle? Are you even listening?"

"Yes," she answers quietly. "I heard you. Thanks for letting me know. Have a safe trip back to Montana."

I furrow my brows, my senses growing even more on edge.

Something here isn't right.

Looking around me, I affirm that we are alone, no strangers lurking in the trees. Just me and her, still sitting silently in her Jeep, refusing to face me.

I still don't know Sidle hardly at all, but I've interacted with her enough to recognize that her tone is off, even if the words she's saying seem within her character.

"Sidle?"

Not getting any response at all this time, I reach into her car, practically pulling her out of her driver's seat.

The moment I do, watching her nearly loose her balance and stagger to one knee, I regret my decision.

"Shit, sorry…"

My words trail off as my eyes take in the sight before me. It's dim lighting with the sun nearly disappearing behind the mountains, but I've been a CSI long enough to recognize blood in any type of lighting.

"Oh my God, Sara…"

Her name sounds strange on my lips, and I realize it's probably the first time I haven't called her 'Sidle' to her face.

"What the hell happened?" I question, eyes wide.

Reaching out, she pulls away from my touch, grabbing onto her Jeep's door to pull herself back up to her feet.

"I'm fine."

I shake my head darkly. "Don't you dare. You are not fine."

Watching the blood slowly trickling from a gash near her temple, I note the deep crimson marring most of her light t-shirt.

"God," I breathe out. "You're not fine at all. Jesus, what did you do, Sidle?!"

Reaching forward again, I watch Sara flinch away from me, pressing herself back as far as she can against the frame of her car.

"Stop, relax," I call to her. "I just need to see what's going on so we can stop this bleeding."

"I'm okay," she tightens her jaw. "You shouldn't be here."

"Stop worrying about me, damn it," I cut her off angrily. "I'm not leaving this desert. Not with you like this."

"Please…"

"Sara," I shake my head darkly. "I'm not going anywhere. So stop pushing me away for once and just let me fucking help you. Stop trying to do everything alone."

I watch her defensive posture that only grows more rigid.

"Unless of course this is your grand plan. To bleed to death in the desert."

She swallows tightly.

"Didn't think so. So if you don't want that to become a reality, you need to let me help you. You're losing too much blood."

Hands shaking, she runs them through her hair, leaving more deep crimson in their wake.

Taking shallow breaths, Sidle keeps debating her options.

Like letting me help her would be breaching some sort of internal default setting. Though, I know enough about Sidle now to know that's probably true. She's just about as stubborn and independent as they come.

Making the decision for her, I step forward, trapping her between myself and her car. Placing my arm around her waist, she tries to pull away.

Grunting in pain at the movements, her features grow significantly paler as she struggles against me.

"Hey, hey, stop," I tell her, not letting my grip go. "Relax, Sara. I'm not letting go and you're only going to hurt yourself more."

When her struggles renew, I press myself firmly against her, effectively trapping her body flush between mine and her car.

My hips press into hers, my free arm reaching over to keep her own pinned against her car window.

Feeling her shallow breathing against me, I wait her out.

Her anger, her discomfort, all of it evident in the trembling body beneath mine.

"Calm down," I whisper, my mouth mere inches from her blood stained neck. "I'm not here to hurt you, Sara. I promise."

I know Sidle probably trusts me about as much as I trust her, which is currently limited at best. And, the last thing anyone wants when they're injured and vulnerable is to be cornered by someone who's intentions they aren't certain of.

"Please let me help you," I say gently, feeling her heart hammering in her chest where it's pressed against my shoulder. "You're going to slip into shock soon if we don't slow this bleeding."

Though, judging by how cold her skin is under my hands, I wonder if she isn't already there.

Pulling back slightly, I let her see my eyes.

"Honey, look at me."

Her breathing rapid, eyes dark, her gaze finally lifts to mine.

"We don't have a lot of time," I tell her honestly. "You need to make a decision as to whether you're going to let me help you, or if you're going to let yourself bleed out here in the desert."

Swallowing tightly, Sidle closes her eyes, no doubt loathing the idea of both options.

Then, just as I feel her weight starting to shift and her legs starting to weaken, she slowly looks at me.

Nodding, she doesn't say anything, that action alone giving me my permission.

"Okay," I state, not wasting any time. "I need to lay you down in front of your Jeep so I can see where this blood is coming from."

Reaching in her open door, I turn on her SUV's head lights.

Then, holding her tightly with both arms, I support most of her weight as we slowly make our way to the front of her vehicle. Gently lowering her down, curse the fact that I have nothing with me to place between her body and the dirt.

Stiffening as her back makes contact with the ground, Sara's hands involuntarily move to her torso.

In the harsh light from her Jeep's headlights, I can see the most extensive bloodstains are located beneath her fingers.

That's the place to start.

"Let go," I direct her gently but firmly, taking her thin wrists in my hands and moving her arms to her side.

Slowly lifting her shirt, I push her hands gently away again as she instinctively tries to stop me.

"Relax," I tell her softly. "You're okay."

Lifting her shirt the rest of the way, I swallow tightly at the sight.

There's a deep gash along her right ribs, and another lower near her hip.

It doesn't take a CSI to know exactly what I'm looking at. Someone fucking stabbed her. And, noting the placement of the injuries, my blood runs cold. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. They didn't want Sidle dead, at least not immediately. They carefully avoided locations with vital organs underneath. Wanting to cause Sara as much pain as possible, knowing it would take longer for her body to slowly bleed out.

"Shit," I mutter, reaching up and taking off my own over shirt without a second thought.

Pressing it into Sara's side, the younger woman growls beneath me, her hands coming up to grab my arms.

"I know, I know," I tell her soothingly. "I'm sorry, I know it hurts."

Pressing firmly, I easily work through Sara's weakened struggles.

Holding the material firmly against the deepest gash, the one along her ribs, my eyes take in the rest of her exposed skin. It's hard to make out much of anything with all the blood, deep red glistening against the blinding white light from her car, but I can also see some deepening bruises along her upper ribs that travel towards her back.

"What the hell did they do to you? And why?" I question under my breath, the sight before me making my stomach turn.

Looking up, I note Sara's expression.

"No, no, no," I call to her. "You need to stay with me, Sara. Open those eyes of yours."

Eyes struggling open, Sara's gaze is moving in and out of focus as she swallows tightly.

"Good girl," I tell her. "Keep focusing on my voice. Stay with me, alright?"

Reaching down with one hand, I pull my phone from my pocket.

"Damn it," I curse, noting the message indicating I have no service. "Why the hell do you go running in the middle of fucking nowhere?" I mutter mostly to myself.

Returning both hands to Sara's side, I feel her body jerk.

"So I don't have to… deal with…seeing…other people…like you…," she tells me hoarsely before I can apologize for the added pain.

Looking down, I see the slight smirk on her lips.

"Again," I tell her with a light laugh. "You're an ass."

"So I've been told," she mutters weakly.

I smile despite my gut falling tightly as I note her increasing trembling and the racing of her pulse as her heart tries to compensate for the blood loss.

"Damn it," I curse, knowing we're closely reaching the critical point at which this could go one of two ways.

And, I refuse to let it go the way it's quickly headed.

Looking down, I remove one hand from Sara's side as I quickly unbuckle my belt and pull it from my jeans.

"Willows…" Sara grinds out, expression darkening as her gaze isn't quite fully there.

Realizing how this could look and not knowing why the hell Sidle's mind would immediately go to such a place, I quickly but gently place my hand along the side of her cheek.

"Trust me," I tell her firmly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Seeing her wary eyes continue to watch me even as her breathing becomes more labored, I return my own gaze to her torso.

Keeping my shirt pressed into her wound, I use my other to get the belt pushed under her back and out the other side.

Quickly working the loose end through the buckle, I use both hands to grip it.

"I'm sorry," I warn her, then quickly pull as tight as I can.

The strangled scream that forces itself out of Sara's throat will no doubt haunt me for a long time.

Securing it tightly, I silently thank the fact that Sidle is as damn skinny as she is, allowing my belt to successfully act as a tourniquet keeping constant pressure on her wound.

Looking her over, I note the slow bleeding coming from her other stab wound, not to mention the steady trickle of blood moving down her face and hair from whatever the hell is going on with her head wound.

Knowing we have limited time and options, I make the best decision I can right now, my mind working through my choices and constantly coming to one conclusion.

"I've stopped the bleeding from the deepest wound as best I can," I inform her of my plan. "That should buy us enough time to get you to the hospital."

Sara looks less than pleased, but she also looks like she's quickly losing her battle with consciousness.

"I'm going to pick you up and take your Jeep," I tell her, knowing her back seat will be a lot easier to get her into than my tiny rental car.

Not giving her a chance to protest, I gather her into my arms, trying as best I can to keep her still.

Securing her into the back seat, I quickly adjust her driver seat to be suitable for a shorter driver.

"You hang on back there," I tell her sternly. "Don't you dare fucking die on me. Not now, after all the hell you've put me through on this fucking case."

I shake my head.

"You're going to live to make it up to me, Sidle. Damn it, you promise me you're not going to die on me after all this...promise me that this isn't how this all ends."

Sara has fallen quiet, and I'm sure she's lost consciousness.

But, just as I throw her Jeep in gear and send her SUV speeding through the desert, tires kicking up sand as we reach speeds I'm pretty sure I've never reached before, I hear her weak voice from the back seat.

"I promise."

AN: Thanks for reading.