AN: Thanks for reading. And, particular thanks to the reviewers, the story and updates are really because of you guys. And, sb, you will see how - the answer is in a chapter or two from now if I remember correctly where it's placed.

CHAPTER 7

CATHERINE POV

There are moments in life when you need to make decisions that you know in some way will change you. As a person. Make you question who you are when times are desperate, when things really matter. When people are counting on you the most.

It's what you do in those moments that tell you the most about yourself.

Picking up my cell, I dial the number for the fourth time. This time, I somehow muster the courage to press send.

Hearing the ringing, I close my eyes, as if the darkness will make this easier.

"Grissom."

"Gil…"

That's it, that's as far as I get, not knowing how the hell I'm supposed to start this conversation despite playing it through my head half a dozen times in the last five minutes.

"Catherine? Where have you been?"

"Yeah, Gil, look…" I pinch my temples, trying to keep my voice light and calm. "I'm just checking in since I know Sidle's preliminary court appearance is in the morning."

There's silence, just silence as Gil no doubt hears straight through the tone of my voice.

"I'm going to still be out of touch for a bit, I have some last angles I want to run. And I'm going to be keeping an eye on Sidle in these last hours to be sure there's no surprises before the trial."

Another pause, this time broken by his question.

"Is everything alright, Catherine?"

"Of course," I tell him. "Just didn't want you to worry if I'm out of touch. I'll see you in the morning at the courthouse."

With that I hang up, hanging my head, the silence of this empty room pressing in on me from every side.

I just lied to one of my closest friends. About one of his closest friends.

But, seeing Sidle barely clinging to life there in the desert, the severity of this case is finally sinking in with me. Sidle is involved in something real, something deep, something dangerous. Gil needs to be a hell of a lot smarter than me and keep his distance. But, I know my friend, and given the chance he would be here in a heartbeat, despite the danger to himself.

I can't let that happen. Not because of me.

But, God, if she dies, and I just denied him his last chance of seeing her…

Swallowing tightly, I can't keep all the emotions, all the fears and terrors of this past hour from boiling back up inside.

If Sara dies, he will never forgive me.

I will never forgive myself.

Glancing at the board, I look down again at the card in my hands. Her number isn't there.

Her fucking number isn't there.

"Nurse."

I pound my palm on the reception desk when there's no answer, just people bustling about and phones ringing without being answered.

"Nurse!"

One woman behind the desk finally looks up, quirking a brow as she assesses me with her piercing blue eyes that are only made more vivid by the dark blue of her scrubs.

"Yes?" she questions tightly. "And it's 'doctor'" she adds. "I like when people yell at me to at least give me my proper title."

"I'm sorry," I have enough presence to be slightly embarrassed, cheeks burning lightly. "I'm just worried about my sister…her number disappeared from your status board…"

'Doctor' Blue Eyes nods, glancing absently at the card in my hands and confirming that the number is no longer on the large LCD monitor above the desk.

"Alright," she says. "That usually means she's out of surgery. So someone should be coming out soon to update you as to her new location, most likely in ICU."

"Most likely?"

The doctor gets an unreadable look in her eyes, nodding while turning away.

"Most likely?!" I ask again, grabbing her arm.

Perhaps seeing the genuine fear in my eyes, she doesn't yell at me for my latest rude move.

"She lost a lot of blood," she says quietly, apparently knowing exactly who this number belongs to. "I was one of the doctors who triaged your sister before handing her over to the surgeons."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying she's most likely in ICU."

"But if she isn't…"

The doctor gently pulls her arm from my grip, knowing we both know damn well where Sara is if she isn't in ICU.

She's in the one place in a hospital that never gets put onto any of the signs.

The morgue.

When nearly half an hour passes without an update, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I think I'm literally going to explode if another minute ticks by without news of whether Sara is even alive or dead.

Glancing up at the signs around me, I figure ICU is most likely close to the surgical department for convenience purposes. And, walking a little way down the hall, I sure enough soon come to a sign that states adult ICU and pediatric ICU, pointing in opposite directions.

Following the signs for the adult ICU, I try to unearth skills within me that I had once mastered as a child.

Raising my head with confidence, I pretend like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be and walk with purpose straight past the reception desk and through one of the side doors.

Entering the hallway, my eyes widen slightly as I see room after room along a long hallways, nurses and doctors bustling between them.

Not losing my confident expression, I walk rather quickly down the hall, glancing into every room that I can see. Pretending to check my phone, I double back as if I just received an important call and need to step out. Hoping to not look like someone lost and out of place here, which is exactly what I am.

Looking in the rooms along the opposite side of the hall, I see someone who looks damn close to Sidle just as I'm about to arrive back at the reception desk.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly sidestep into the room, closing the door behind me.

Turning, I'm both relieved and nervous when I see the occupant looking at me with a less than friendly expression.

"Miss Willows?" Sara questions tightly, clearing her throat, words sounding scratchy and hoarse.

She's pushed herself up from the edge of her bed, drawing herself to a somewhat shaky stand.

"Thank God," I let out a rushed breath. "I thought…"

Sara raises a brow, expression a mixture of confused, concerned, and slightly amused that only she can master so perfectly.

"You thought what, Miss Willows?"

"Damn it," I breathe out, trying to stop my thundering heart and come down from the panicked adrenaline that was coursing through my body just minutes before. "You know exactly what I fucking thought."

Sara smiles slightly, "Again," she whispers. "You may want to watch it, or I may get the wrong idea. You know, thinking you care and all."

I snort, shaking my head, her comment both pissing me off and making me laugh.

"Speaking of," Sara gets serious. "Why are you here?"

"I'm just going to leave you in a strange hospital having surgery?"

Sara looks at me like the answer is obvious.

"Yes." Her eyes narrow, her features pale, dark circles under her eyes standing out against her ashen skin. She looks like hell.

"Miss Willows," she shakes her head. "I don't know how much more obvious the danger to you can get after what you saw. You need to stop doing this, stop putting yourself near me."

Sara swallows, hands trying to fasten the tie on her hospital scrubs, no doubt given to her by the hospital as her own jeans were beyond salvaging. Her fingers are shaky and uncoordinated, Sidle no doubt still somewhat coming out of the affects of anesthesia.

For the first time, her activities hit me.

"Wait, are you being released?" I question in shock.

"More or less."

"Weren't you just in surgery?"

"I'm okay."

"You don't look it," I contradict honestly, voice softening as I truly look her over. "And you sure as hell didn't look it in the desert."

Jaw tightening, Sara closes her eyes briefly, her demeanor growing quiet and her expression withdrawn as she seems to pull back into herself at my words.

"I'm sorry about that," she says in almost a whisper. "I didn't want you to get more involved…"

"Yeah, I think I've caught on to that particular goal of yours."

Watching her, I approach her carefully.

"Here," I push her hands away gently. "Let me."

Taking the drawstrings from her pants in my fingers, I gently tighten them along her hips, making a neat bow so she can get them off easier later.

When I look up, Sara's head is angled away, her eyes as far from mine as possible.

"Sara…"

Gently, I reach out, turning her chin back to face me.

"You need to talk to me. You need to let me help you."

"I don't need help."

"You nearly died last night," I counter, tone somewhat harsher than I intended, images of her bloodied body flashing through my mind. "This case isn't worth your life."

"I'm doing the best I can," Sara whispers out, eyes lowered.

"You don't have to do it alone, though, Sara."

"The case goes to court in the morning," she tells me. "It's all about to be over regardless."

"Was this your plan?" I ask her, gesturing to her side that's now hidden under a long sleeved shirt. "Was this what happened when you tried to do whatever the hell you were planning?"

Sara looks away.

"No," she says so quietly I almost miss it. "This was their plan."

"To kill you?"

"To make a point."

I take this in, noting again the locations of the cuts and the chance they gave Sara for survival if she got to help quick enough. Not necessarily to kill her, but certainly to teach her a strict lesson.

"And are you going to listen to their warning?" I question.

If this was their plan, that means Sidle's is still in the works. Ready and waiting should she still be planning to proceed.

Yes, I want justice in this case, but for the first time, the reality of the situation is truly hitting home for me. The consequences of getting to the truth. This isn't just about me and my safety anymore.

Seeing Sara slowly bleeding to death in that desert…

Sara meets my eyes only briefly, but it's long enough to see her answer.

"God, you're going to get yourself killed," I breathe out at the stubborn girl.

"So are you," she counters, pulling her belongings out of a clear plastic bag at her bedside and placing her possessions in her pockets. "Like I said, you shouldn't be here with me."

"I don't know anything. You won't fucking tell me anything, so why the hell does it matter if we're standing in the same room. We couldn't be farther apart from one another."

Sara swallows, her features stark and her hands trembling slightly.

"I need to get out of here."

I can tell under her attempts to appear strong and nonchalant that she feels like shit. Not that she'll admit it, but she looks like she's on the verge of either passing out or vomiting.

"I'll give you a ride."

"Not safe."

"Stop trying to protect me."

"Stop trying to get yourself killed." Her eyes lift to mine, the desperation there. "Court is in the morning, I won't have you killed now that I've put up with you and kept you safe this long."

I snort, noting the ghost of a smirk on her face.

"No offense, but your place probably isn't safe anyway," I tell her. "Whether or not I'm the one to drive you there is a bit of a moot point."

"Ideas?"

Thinking about it, I nod.

"Actually, yes."

"This is your plan?" Sara questions, raising a dark brow as she slowly exits the SUV, her hand resting carefully along her injured side.

"You have a better one?"

Sidle concedes defeat, remaining quiet as we slowly make our way through the glass doors.

"I hear you have some favorite labs in the back."

Sara sends me a look, but dutifully leads the way. I'm grateful that it's still, though barely, daytime, making it less likely for us to run into any members of Sara's team. Including Grissom.

Entering the dimly lit room, I turn on the lights as I close and lock the door. Seeing Sara stiffen and whirl around at the sound, I raise my hands in a calming gesture.

"Relax," I tell her. "I'm not locking you in here or planning some horrible attack on you. I just figured better safe than sorry. Our goal is to make it safely to morning, yes?"

Sara watches me, expression guarded as she finally looks away, taking a seat along the back counter as I draw the blinds closed. Watching her wince as she places herself down on the hard surface, I inwardly cringe.

I can only imagine how it would feel to be stabbed once, let alone twice. Then, to essentially release myself from the hospital only hours after surgery. Yet, Sara doesn't complain or make one single comment about her pain.

Closing her eyes, she leans her head back into the shelf behind her.

"Tell me about your daughter."

Her words surprise me, drawing my gaze up to assess her.

Seeing the light sheen of sweat covering her skin, the continued trembling of her hands, I realize she's probably trying to focus on something other than how she's feeling right now. Which, honestly looks like she's grown even dangerously closer to vomiting.

If this will help in some way make this waiting period easier for her, I can't find it in me to deny that to her.

Plus, I never have to be asked twice to talk about my beautiful girl.

"Her name is Lindsey," I sit on one of the open stools at the evidence table, picking one on the other side of the room as to not crowd my standoffish companion. "She's five, though she acts like she's sixteen most of the time. Or at least her attitude does."

Sara smiles slightly, her eyes closing as I talk, her body trying to relax.

"She's just starting school," I continue. "And she's enamored with learning everything there is to know about everything. So curious, always asking me why things are the way they are. How they work."

"A scientist like her mom?"

I laugh lightly, "I can only hope."

I continue to talk about Lindsey, her hobbies, her friends. Her unique way at looking at the world. I talk for a long time, watching Sara closely as I do. Eventually noting Sara's breathing starting to hitch, I see her fighting to keep herself awake.

"I'll be right back," I whisper to her, quietly exiting the room.

Quickly moving through the halls, I find my destination despite my having been here only a few times before. Grabbing my desired items, I hurry back to the deserted lab Sara likes to call her own.

Letting myself back in, I note that Sara hasn't moved from where she was when I left.

Approaching her quietly, I lay the items I collected on the ground in front of her on the floor.

"Take my hand," I call to her softly, reaching out and gently taking her cold hand in mine.

"Hmm?" she asks absently, barely conscious as I gently help her off the counter.

Laying her down on the cushions and blanket I pillaged from the break room couch, I feel her hand tighten in mine.

"You're okay," I tell her softly. "Just going to lay us down and try to get some sleep before morning."

Setting my alarm on my phone to be sure we have plenty of time before court to figure out changes of clothes and showers, I take hold of the blanket and gently drape it over my young companion's trembling body. Moving forward, I adjust myself so that I'm by Sara's head.

Though I'm tired myself, I'm much too nervous about Sara's current state to let myself fall asleep and leave her unattended. She looks horrible, and the shivering of her body does nothing to make me feel better.

She should still be in that damn hospital. But, short of chloroforming her and dragging her back, there's not much I can do to counter her decision to sign herself out.

Reaching down, I slowly run my fingers through her hair, thankful at least that she's too far out of it to fight me on the gesture.

"Shh," I tell her softly, noting her clenched teeth. "Relax and let yourself rest, honey."

I wish I had something to give her to help her with the pain, but I have no idea what the doctors gave her at the hospital and what would be safe and what wouldn't.

And, I know that Sara would refuse anything I would offer her anyway.

So, instead, I will settle for this small gesture, carefully tracing my fingers through her soft hair.

"You're alright, Sara," I tell her quietly. "I've got you. Relax."

Leaning my head back, I let out a sigh.

When I first arrived in Vegas, I never imagined this is where I would be and what I would be doing the night before this case goes to court. And, something tells me that Sara's words earlier were a lie.

"The case goes to court in the morning...it's all about to be over regardless."

No, court is not the end of this. Much as she likely hoped I'd believe her, I suspect court is really the start.

AN: Thanks for reading.