A/N: Super sigh. I think I'm back guys, maybe. Apologies for the delay but it's been a hard time lately. Along with some serious personal stuff I've had going on I am now caught in the middle of the UK riots as I live in a town where they are doing it. It's no fun I can tell you but I have found the time to finally get the next chapter out. Thank you so, so much to my best friend and awesome beta SweetSouthernComfort who has kept me going over the last few weeks. You have been there for me all through everything even if I haven't been around that much and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your personal support as well as the life and energy you bring to my story.

Thank you for all your reviews, if it wasn't for all your support and comments this story may have vanished into the "to be finished pile." Please, please keep them coming, they really do keep me going.

So, here we go. Let's see how out little heroine is doing shall we…

Chapter 89

Grissom was swift but tender as he washed and changed the woman he loved. He had just enough hot water left to be able to clean her effectively and did so quickly after he had stripped her. The fire was in desperate need of wood and the cabin had begun to turn cold so he knew he had to get her refreshed and into clean, dry clothing as fast as possible for he feared the chill now blossoming through the cabin would hit her fragile body. He just couldn't allow that to happen.

Although Sara had initially agreed to allow him to care for her, clean her, the second he reached to remove her clothing something suddenly changed within her and she tried to push him away again, fighting him. He could still sense uncertainty within her…fear…shame. It broke his heart but he had to wash and change her, no matter how hard it was on both of them and as soon as his eyes passed over her bruising again it tore at his gut and heart strings.

She didn't fight for long though, she simply didn't have the strength and he was able to complete his task.

He hung the wet washcloth and towel above the fire place, threw the dirty clothes into a basket and gazed at her. She lay back against the pillows, looking right back at him and he wondered what she was thinking. She hadn't spoken a single word today…said nothing at all.

It seemed to take all of her strength just to breathe.

Offering her a gentle smile he removed his own shirt and threw it with the other dirty linen before he took a fresh one from his dresser. Doing the laundry was another thing to add to his list but he had to change his own clothing considering Sara had spat up on him earlier.

A chill swept over his body and his eyes fell to the fireplace as Sara sneezed, cutting the silence running through the room. The fire was barely still alight. He took a blanket from the closet and moved to the bed to place it over the sheet covering Sara's body. "Sara…" he began, "…I have to go and chop some wood…get some water to boil. I need to keep you warm, honey, do you understand?"

His eyes widened as she leaned forward, her mouth was moving. Was she going to say something? But her eyes clenched shut and she exhaled another sneeze, the biggest sneeze he had ever heard and then she fell back to the pillows with a gasp.

"Great…" he mumbled. Now Sara had sneezing in addition to coughing to contend with, like she needed anything else to interfere with her work of breathing. Stepping back, he went to the kitchen and rummage around in a drawer, cursing when Sara sneezed again and again. Finally, he found what he was looking for and grabbed it.

Hurrying back to the bed, he sat beside Sara and held out what was in his hand. "I really have to get wood. You see this…" Between finger and thumb he pinched the small brass bell and gave it a small shake. A light but very audible ting…ting, echoed through the room, "…I won't be long, maybe twenty minutes but if you need me or anything, anything at all, all you need to do is ring the bell and I will hear you. I will leave the door open, just a little so I can hear you."

Sara stared at the bell.

"Can you hear me?" he asked softly. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

Her head slowly rose but all she did was sneeze again.

Working his jaw, Grissom reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped her now runny nose. He pulled back and placed the bell into her limp hand. "Ring the bell if you need me." Leaning forwards he kissed her on the forehead. "I won't be long."

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

He hated to leave her but he knew the practicality of remaining by her side every moment given everything he had to do was just impossible. Every time Grissom raised the axe and spliced it through a piece of wood he stopped and listened, just in case Sara should be ringing the bell.

But she didn't. Not once.

The rancher didn't know if that was a good or bad thing so he was quick to break down the timber and pile it up ready to take to the cabin.

"You need some help carrying that?"

Grissom looked over his shoulder to see Hodges behind him and then back to his great pile of wood. "Sure," he replied. "How are the repairs going?" the rancher then asked.

"I'm all done with the fence on the exercise field and Michael is working on the west side. I don't think the horses are up to going out today though. A few of them still seem a little spooked."

"Can't really blame them," Grissom responded. "I'm sure Pandora most certainly isn't up to doing anything today anyway."

"No," Hodges agreed.

The rancher thought for a moment. "Did you see if Dante wanted a walk around?"

"Hmmm…well…he doesn't seem very co-operative in leaving the stalls. I did try."

Half a smile graced Grissom's lips and he wiped his brow on his sleeve before bending to grab a pile of the chopped wood. Hodges did the same and the two men returned to the cabin.

They entered, worker behind rancher and Grissom's eyes instantly fell to the bed to ensure Sara was alright. She seemed to be. The bell still lay in her hand and her body was in the same position it was when he left her.

"Wow, she doesn't look so good," Hodges said and not particularly quietly either.

Sara's head turned upon hearing the words, ever so slightly and she stared at Grissom. He offered her a smile but then his smile faded when suddenly her glance shift behind him. He witnessed her eyes widen and glaze with fear and then a panic overcame her. With an energy he didn't think she possessed she scurried to her side and fell from the bed, hitting the floor hard and coughed over and over.

"Jesus," he mumbled, dropping the wood on the floor. "Sara?" He rushed around the bed and quickly knelt by her side. The coughs emanating from her body were brutal and he pulled her into his arms. "Sara?" he shouted. "Honey, please…what's wrong?"

Her eyes widened yet again as Hodges rounded the bed to stand behind his boss, a look of shock evident upon his face. She gasped and spluttered, her face quickly turning a darker shade of crimson as any air was cut off from her lungs…she just couldn't breathe and her eyes bore into the young workers.

Grissom quickly worked it out and he shot Hodges a glance. "David, get out!" he commanded.

"What?" Hodge's spluttered.

"Out! Now!" Grissom shouted now, pulling Sara tightly against his chest. "She doesn't recognize you, you're scaring her."

"But she knows who I am," Hodges countered.

The look Grissom now gave his worker was enough to scare off even the bravest of men and Hodges immediately placed the wood down and was quick to rush from the cabin.

"Come on, Sara," Grissom whispered as Sara still hadn't taken a breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't think, he wouldn't have hurt you…I promise no one will hurt you again…breathe for me honey, please…breathe for me."

Alas, Sara couldn't find a breath and after several hard fought minutes she passed out, falling limp against Grissom's body.

He closed his eyes as she fell against him and he cursed under his breath. Quickly he held a finger to her neck in an attempt to find her pulse. It was there and then the warm air that suddenly passed over his neck gave him confirmation that Sara was actually breathing again.

With a sigh a relief, Grissom gently picked her up and carefully placed her back onto the bed. Stepping back, he placed his flat, shaking palm against his forehead and tried to alleviate some of the tension swelling there. He hadn't even considered how Sara would react to seeing someone other than him, a man especially and he kicked himself for it. But there was nothing he could do about it now; he would just have to be more careful from now on.

He looked at her, carefully studying the fast rise and fall of her chest, the constant band of sweat on her brow from her ever present fever and the continuous changing of her skin color. It pained him to think he could do nothing…he could lose her…

Shaking his head he fought that thought from his mind. That would not happen…to his last dying breath, he would ensure that would not happen. Leaning over her he felt her temperature and her fever had soared to even greater heights. With a gentle sigh he stepped back but then frowned as a thought came into his mind. He again thought of Robbins and something else he had witnessed the man use for illness but did he have any? He didn't think so but looked anyway, moving to the kitchen to rummage in every cupboard and drawer he possessed.

He bit down on his bottom lip at the realization he didn't have what he needed but he could get some. Quickly but quietly he exited the cabin and looked around. He spotted Hodges not too far away looking a little bemused.

"David?" he called and the worker startled, spinning to face his boss.

Rather timidly, Hodges approached the rancher. "I'm sorry if I…" he muttered.

Grissom shook his head. "It's not your fault," he cut in. "She just…she doesn't really know what's happening right now. It's…hard to understand but she means no harm just like you don't."

Hodges nodded.

"Can you do something for me?" Grissom continued.

"Of course."

"I need you to go back into town and get me some ethanol…here…" The rancher reached into his pocket and pulled out a few cents, passing them to his worker.

Hodges scratched the top of his head. "What do you need it for?" he asked with curiosity.

"It may help bring down Sara's fever. I hope so anyway."

"Ah…I see." Hodges slipped the money into his pocket. "Alright then…I'll be back as soon as I can."

Grissom thanked his worker and watched as he disappeared towards the stable. A swift breeze came from the east and sent a chill through his body. It certainly was getting colder.

After a frustrated inhalation of the cool air, he slowly clonked back up the cabin steps. He must replenish the dwindling fire, boil more water and then eat. His strength was almost gone so he knew he must eat and very, very soon.

Upon entering the cabin, he, as he always did, checked Sara first. She was still oblivious to the world, sleeping heavily and wheezing so bad it made his toes curl.

At this point in time there was nothing he could do for her but let her rest, so he did so and got to his tasks at hand…

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Grissom sat at his small desk and looked over the plans to expand the cabin. Every minute or so his eyes would flick to the bed and to Sara's still sleeping form. Hodge's had returned with the ethanol and Grissom had quickly put it to good use. Mixing it with a little cold water and then soaking the liquid into a cloth. He then laid the cloth upon Sara's forehead, re soaking it now and again. To start with it seemed to work and Sara's temperature did drop, if just by a small amount. He just hoped it would continue to do so.

It was late afternoon now and would be getting dark soon. Thankfully he had done most of what he had to do in between his tending to Sara. The fire glowed, crackled, and warmed the room, now in full flight after a healthy dose of fresh timber. The newly filled pot of water upon the fire bubbled away, ready for when it was needed. Laundry hung above the fire place, sheets and once soiled clothing. And Grissom himself had eaten, if only cold meats, cheese and bread but he felt a little revived even if still quite tired.

A small smile curled his lips as he looked over his plans once more. They represented a future…his future with Sara…their future…He wasn't about to give up on that. A moan caught his attention and his eyes snapped back to the bed. Sara had woken but before he even had chance to stand she started rambling.

"I'm sorry…" she began, "…I'm so sorry…Father…I didn't mean to shame you…I am a whore! I am!"

Grissom's brow rose and his body shot from the chair as Sara tried to sit up. Her eyes were closed but as he reached for her they popped open. Her pupils were fixed and filled with shame but before he could even react she thumped his chest and pushed him away. "Stay away from me!" she shouted. "I'm a whore! You don't want me!" She punched him again and again.

Finally he grabbed her arms, as gently as he could to stop he onslaught. "Sara stop!" he pleaded. "Please!"

She weakly fought him but she was in no condition to put up much of a fight. Her sudden burst of energy taxed her overwhelmed lungs and she soon stopped her assault in order to breathe. The breaths were harsh, with a heavy shrill wheeze. Her distress even seemed to raise her temperature and Grissom swore at this. Damn this unrelenting fever. Damn this hellish pneumonia.

"You are not a whore," he told her. "You're not. Do you hear me?"

Then something suddenly scared him, well something other than Sara's condition. Was she considering herself a whore because of their indiscretion or because of what Hank did? What exactly did her father say to her? A tremble wracked through his body… "You don't want me…"

What was she thinking and why did he have an awful feeling that she did actually know it was him there with her? Was she pushing him away? Was she so ashamed of what Hank had done that even if she did recover she would not stay with him out of respect to him? He needed answers, he had to reassure her.

He would not let her go.

She fell against him, her arms weakly clinging to whatever part of his clothing she could find. "He said I was a whore…my father…the one man who should know….I am…you know…" She coughed a few times before her head fell upon his chest. "And…I was treated like one too…" Her face crumbled, tears flowing down her pinked cheeks.

Grissom's hands slid up her back to her neck where he held her tightly against him. "You are not," he repeated, finding it hard to compose himself. "I swear, Sara, you are not." He managed to pull back cupping her face in his hands while feeling a massive amount of shame wash over himself. He was to blame in this too.

This was the first time she had spoken to him today and it wasn't in a way he reveled in. But, as she was talking, he found an urge to get her to continue. "Talk to me, honey. I need you to tell me everything, all that you feel, all that pains you, or as much as you can. Please…it will help I promise…it will help…

Let…me help…"

*** "'Buried how long?'"
"'Almost eighteen years.'"
"'You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?'"
"'Long ago.'"
"'You know that you are recalled to life?'"
"'They tell me so.'"
"'I hope you care to live?'"
"'I can't say.'" ***

*** - Quote taken from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

A/N: Poor Sara, she really is sick. Will she talk to him and how will her feel after? Can they get through this? I forsee some family members arriving very shortly...hmmm...now that could be interesting :) Review please! Tx xxx