A/N: Hey guys. Again, sorry for the delay in posting. I won't bore you with the details of my crappy life again though. Right now, the writing comes when it comes and I can do no more. Thanks to my best friend and awesome beta, SSC, I wouldn't have got through the last few weeks if it wasn't for you babe. Thank you for your input on the story as well as your advice in other things. And on with the story…

Chapter 90

He watched her sleep, her earlier words; "You don't want me," reverberating with his unquiet mind, much like a fired bullet would bounce off a rock.

He truly wondered what she was thinking, what thoughts were beneath the feverish hypoxic cloud of disorientation that permeated most all else. He didn't need an expert to tell him that Sara was worsening. He could feel her slipping away, her mind's grasp slightly beyond his heartfelt pleas for her to stay. The desire for her to talk to him overwhelmed him but alas, she had fallen into slumber before her words could be spoken.

You don't want me, she had said.

"You don't want me..."

He had to figure this out. Make her realize that he didn't care if another man had forced himself on her, or that he did care but not for the same reasons that society might. And while Grissom loved her body, it was her heart he treasured and coveted above all else.

He didn't care about Hanks assault, or of denied birthrights, family banishments or lost unborn children. But he couldn't view it from his decidedly male angle that is if he wanted to help Sara.

He had to see the events of the last several days from her perspective, the way she interpreted them. The loss of her dowry and position as a plantation heiress would be difficult to bear. The loss of her baby had to be heartbreaking, though to be honest; Grissom looked at the baby...its creation and demise...with a measure of ambivalence.

But the loss of her child...to her...would have resulted in grief and guilt. The loss of her family would have caused shame. But her perceived loss of him was apparently what hurt her the most.

And drove her to a most desperate decision.

Closing his eyes he sucked in a ragged breath. She really did love him. Now, he had to make her realize no matter what had happened or was going to happen...he loved her too.

A moan slipped from her lips, followed by a cough and her eyes slowly opened, her head turning upon the pillow, her eyes catching his as they too opened.

It took her a moment to focus, her eyes scanning the contours of his face before taking his stare in once again. "You're still here..." she whispered.

He shifted, gently tilting her forward to fluff her pillows in order to make her more comfortable. As he laid her back against them he smiled. "I'm not going anywhere...at least not without you."

She continued to stare at him as he reached to the bedside table and picked up a cup of tea. It was cold but it was still liquid.

"Here..." He edged the cup towards her lips, "...try and drink."

Surprisingly, Sara opened her mouth without argument and took a mouthful of the tea and...she managed to keep it down.

"Good," Grissom said as she swallowed. "Try another..." Once more he pressed the cup to her lips and the liquid slipped into her mouth.

This time she grimaced as she swallowed, her face contorting in pain and he was quick to pull the cup back and place it on the table. He expected her to start coughing but she did not.

"Sore..." she moaned, managing to lift a hand to her throat.

Grissom frowned, shifted closer and placed a gentle hand upon her chin. "Open..." he urged and Sara did, slowly opening her mouth as requested.

The rancher looked carefully and instantly spotted the redness of her throat. He wasn't surprised really but he hated the fact that Sara would have another thing causing her pain. "It is sore, honey," he confirmed for her, pulling back. "Drinking will help, so the more you can keep down the better. I'll try to get some lemons tomorrow, they should help too."

She said nothing back but he didn't expect anything else. Placing his hand on her forehead, he, as he had pretty much every hour, felt her temperature. "I'll be right back," he said, sliding from the bed and she watched him as he prepared another alcohol soaked cloth. He smiled, knowing she was watching him but he was quick with his task, placing a little of his ethanol supply into the bowl of cold water and then dousing a cloth into the mixture just as he had done several times before.

Quickly he moved back to the bed and placed the damp cloth on Sara's forehead. Initially she jumped at the cold sensation but then relaxed against the pillows as the coolness started to take the fiery tinge from her skin.

"Does that help?" Grissom asked, sitting beside her.

She offered him the faintest of nods and a small amount of relief filtered through him. She seemed to be responding to him again and showed awareness; he just wondered how long it would last this time. He knew the clock was against him and if he was going to try and get Sara to talk to him, now maybe his only chance for a while.

"Sara..." he began, softly taking her hand in his. It was hot and clammy and he realized in her current sweating state, she would need changing more than once a day. For now he put that thought aside and looked into her eyes. "...talk to me, please. Just try. Tell me what happened..." He swallowed the growing lump in his throat, "...tell me what happened at the Grove...tell me what you're feeling..." Squeezing her hand a little tighter he tried to smile. "I need to know so I can start trying to fix it...so I can get you better...so I can start planning for our future."

Sara frowned and now he did smile. "You heard me," he told her. "I said our future."

But then, she turned her head and looked away from him. She remained silent, just staring at the wall until he noticed a single tear glide down her cheek and he edged forward, reaching out to capture the tear upon his finger. Then, he tenderly cupped her chin and titled her head so she looked back at him.

"Talk to me..."

Her eyes widened and moistened again with unshed tears. She didn't have the strength to turn away so her eyes closed instead. Her pale lips trembled, a fine movement that seemed to move throughout her entire body.

"Sara," he said softly. "Please..."

Slowly, she shook her head. "Can't," she mumbled. "Nothing you can do. It's over now."

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The small clock on the mental chimed midnight and Grissom looked up from his bible to stare at the timepiece. His eye lids felt heavy and a soft sigh escaped his lips as his attention was drawn to Sara as shifted a little upon him. Half her body was spread over his, her head lay upon his chest and her arm coiled around his abdomen. Her skin was almost a grayish color with patches of red upon her throat and cheeks. She wheezed almost constantly and her energy was so lacking, she couldn't even move without assistance now.

She had been asleep most of the day now and even though he had tried over and over in the gentlest possible way to get her to talk to him, she refused every time. He conceded after a while and just let it be, for now anyway. He just couldn't risk continuing to distress her and attempting to get her to recall what happened most definitely did distress her.

It was frustrating.

As he ran a tender hand through her hair he thought of the Grove, of the captain and Laura. He tried hard not to feel sympathy for the captain, for the way he had had apparently treated Sara was inexcusable but…something deep inside niggled at his nerve endings and he couldn't help thinking how he must feel. After all, his one and only child was gone and in the eye of a hurricane. His actions may well have caused her departure so surely his guilt must be unrelenting. And Grissom couldn't now help a force of guilt that crashed over him. The captain may have been harsh…too harsh in the way he had obviously spoken to his daughter but…he was drunk and…Grissom knew no matter how it was put, some aspects were true and he was also to blame for that…for taking Sara to his bed. There was no excuse for that. Did the captain even realize what he was saying or know how Hank had forced himself upon Sara? Grissom doubted it.

No matter his muddled feelings towards his former employer, the loss of a child was something he would not find any form of happiness in. And there was Laura. She must be hysterical and he definitely felt for her. He wondered how Laura had reacted when they discovered Sara had gone. For some reason now a smile graced his lips. He certainly didn't want to have been in the captain's boots when they found out.

He knew they would come to him, they had to. Tomorrow or maybe the next day. It would all depend how the storm had hit Maryland but he knew, with Sara gone, Laura would insist he was their first point of the search. If Sara had attempted to go anywhere, her mother would know that he would most likely be her destination.

His heavy eye lids began to close as a sharp wind began to brew outside again. He listened to it for a few minutes, imagining the falling leaves as they were scooped from the ground to be swirled in a folly of drowning color. It felt good.

Then he heard nothing, for the first time in a long time there seemed to be some form of peace as his mind and body succumbed to the exhaustion which had been threatening him for as long as he could remember…

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***He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There was a ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had been left last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet coppice-wood, in which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still remained upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful.***

Grissom mulled around in the kitchen a little before 9am. He'd slept a little considering the circumstances. Sara had awoken twice, coughing and panicking for some grasp on reality and thankfully both times he had managed to calm her back into sleep.

To remain in bed until after eight was something Grissom had rarely ever done. Right now he didn't care. He may have been late rising but it didn't mean he wasn't still tired.

After finely chopping the vegetables Hodges had brought from the market the day before, Grissom put them into a pot with some water and placed the pot onto the small wood burning stove. Hopefully soon, Sara may be able to take in more than just tea.

There was a quiet knock at the door and Grissom looked up from the pot. After wiping his hands on a cloth, he quietly slipped from the kitchen, his eyes checking on Sara as he moved and he walked to the door. Upon opening the door he saw Bob and was greeted by a smile.

"Morning, Gil," the doctor said.

"Morning, Bob." Grissom extended his arm for a handshake and then urged the doctor inside.

After shaking Grissom's hand the doctor entered the cabin. "How is she this morning?" he asked approaching the bed as Grissom closed the door.

Stepping around his friend, Grissom moved to stand at the foot of the bed and sighed. "She hasn't woken yet, we had...quite an emotional night but thankfully she has slept, quite a lot infact." He ran a hand over his chin and made a mental note that he seriously needed a shave. "Her cough has worsened and she's still very hot. It scares me as to how hot she is. I tried ethanol, which works for a time then the fever just flares again."

Nodding his understanding the doctor placed his small, black bag down on the floor, carefully sat on the bed and studied Sara's sleeping form. After a moment of simply watching her he leaned forward and pressed his palm to her forehead.

Grissom noticed as Bob's brow formed a firm frown and that concerned him.

"Your right, Gil, her temperature is...too high...extreme even. Her fever is like one I very rarely ever come across." With great care, Bob gently lifted her eye lids with his thumbs and took a good look at her eyes just like he had done the day before. Her pupils were fixed but her eyes flickered briefly as if she were dreaming. "She seems very troubled," the doctor mumbled.

Clearing his throat, Grissom shuffled nervously.

With urgency, Bob reached for his bag, opened it and pulled out his tubular stethoscope. "Can you help me, Gil?"

Nodding quickly, Grissom moved around to Sara's nearest side. "What do you need?"

"I need you to pull her forward and hold her so I can get access to her back and front to have a listen." He held up the stethoscope. "Can you do that?"

Feeling a little uncertain, Grissom passed his eyes over the woman he loved. "Do you need to touch her?" he asked.

Bob half smiled. "I'm no fool, Gil. I can see that both of you have been through a lot and I won't pry. But it would be best if I can get a proper look at her and I need to listen to her lungs. I promise I'll make it quick and you have my full confidence that whatever happens in this room or what I see is totally confidential."

Gnawing on his bottom lip Grissom gave a somber nod and sat on the edge of the bed. He prayed Sara would remain asleep through for if she woke to find a strange man touching her…it would not be good.

"Ready?" Bob asked.

With a quick nod, Grissom shuffled forwards and gently wrapped his arms around Sara as she lay against the headboard. With great care and gentle hands he pulled her into his arms and slowly turned her so her back faced the doctor. Her head lolled and fell into his shoulder and he stiffened when she moaned.

"Shushhhhh…" he soothed rubbing his hands softly up and down her back. "It's only me…" he whispered, "…shush…"

A single cough broke from her throat but for now she remained asleep, digging her forehead into his shoulder.

Breathing a short sigh of relief, Grissom looked to his friend and nodded.

Kneeling on the bed, Bob leaned towards Sara with implement in hand. "Please lift the shirt," he whispered.

With gentle finger tips, Grissom took a hold of the bottom of Sara's shirt and slowly lifted it. He knew Bob would see the bruises upon Sara's body but there wasn't much he could do about that. However, he knew his friend would not push for answers.

Sara shuddered as the shirt was lifted and Grissom felt her tense. "It's okay," he whispered with haste, "Relax, honey…I'm here…shush…it's only me…it's only me…"

The doctor seemed to understand the importance of getting this over with quickly, so he was swift to place his stethoscope in the middle of Sara's back. He did it with the utmost care and then placed his ear to the end of the implement. Grissom waited patiently and continued to whisper support in Sara's ear while the doctor did his examination. He was then careful turning Sara so Bob could listen to her chest.

After a minute or so, Bob pulled back and nodded to Grissom. "You can cover her up now."

Grissom was swift to pull the shirt back down over her exposed body and lay her back against the headboard, puffing up the pillows behind her as he did so to ensure she was comfortable. Her head dropped to the right and she coughed several times but luckily remained in slumber.

"Her breathing is very shallow, Gil…very harsh," Bob said as he leaned forward and placed gentle hands upon each side of Sara's throat to feel her glands. "Worse than it was last night."

"Yeah," Grissom agreed standing and running a hand through his hair.

"It doesn't surprise me though." Bob looked to his friend. "This kind of illness will generally get worse before it gets better but I fear the infection in her lungs is very bad. If one should collapse…or even both…it would be lethal. Her infection alone is enough to kill her."

"What more can I do?" The rancher felt helpless, like he wasn't doing enough.

Bob smiled and reached an encouraging hand to his friends shoulder. "You are doing everything you can," he replied with a smile. "Just keep her warm but you may need to cool her down if she gets too hot but I can see you are pretty much doing that already. She will more than likely suffer from hot and cold flushes for some time but mostly complain she is cold even when her body actually isn't. Make sure she has plenty of fluids, especially hot ones. I doubt she can eat just yet by the looks of her throat but stews or broths will be the best thing if you can manage to get her to take them, she needs protein…chicken or beef is usually good and just…support her, let her know you are there." He squeezed Grissom's shoulder. "But I think she knows that."

Grissom nodded. "How long do you think she will be like this?"

Shaking his head, Bob sighed and moved from the bed. "It's very hard to predict. It could last a week; a month or it could be even longer. There is no way to tell. She could fight it and improve but relapse is not uncommon with pneumonia. We will just have to take it one day at a time and see and...pray."

The rancher flexed his fingers. He didn't like the unknown. "Any other advice?" he asked.

Bob grinned. "Here…" He reached into his bag and pulled out a small cotton sack. "This should help...just a little something from me to you. Use the seeds but use in moderation, okay?"

Grissom took it and nodded. "Thank you." The rancher eyed the bag with curiosity. "What kind of seeds?" he asked.

"Poppy seeds, they contain opium and are useful as pain relief, good for coughing and for sleep. Use in moderation, Gil, if you feel Sara needs to take some. They will calm her down and make her drowsy but be cautious…" Bob's brow rose, "…they could cause hallucinations or if too much is used, cause breathing to stop. Just split one open and get her to swallow it but one at a time. It's as simple as that."

Several thoughts crossed Grissom's mind at that point. It was nice to have some relief for Sara but if he got it wrong he could make things worse? Was an attempt to heal her pain worth the risk of making it worse? At that point he didn't know but if the time came he would have to make a decision.

The doctor smiled seeing the intense look of concentration upon Grissom's face. "I have full confidence in you, Gil, don't look so afraid. I will bring some medicinal tea with me tomorrow, alright? I would have brought some today but I gave the last out last night and I need to restock."

Grissom nodded again.

"Look after yourself, Gil. You look exhausted and she needs you to be strong. Try and get some sleep, if she's sleeping then you should be too. Try and get some help if you can because caring for someone twenty four seven is no easy feat especially considering you have a ranch to run."

Rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, Grissom nodded even though he didn't feel confident in his gesture. "Sara isn't very trusting around people right now and neither am I, so…"

"I understand," the doctor responded, "But it's going to be hard for you to do all this alone but…I'll be by, everyday, to check on her and just make sure you ask me if you do need help. I'm sure I will be able to find someone to watch Sara if needs be."

"Thanks, Doc," Grissom responded. "I appreciate that."

Bob smiled. "Sure thing but…I guess for now I should be going. I have lots of calls to still make after the storm did it's damage."

"Right…" Grissom looked to Sara, she still looked comfortable. "I'll see you out."

The two men headed for the door but Bob stopped. "How's the throat feeling by the way?" he asked, turning back to his friend.

"It's getting there."

The doc nodded. "Good." He smiled again and reached for the door, pulling it open. Grissom followed him out onto the porch and both descended the few steps.

Their goodbye however, was cut short when a coach suddenly trundled down the driveway and broke the morning silence…

***"He formed this speech with his lips many times before he could utter it. But when he did find spoken words for it, they came to him coherently, though slowly..." ***

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

A/N: Ah...so who has arived? And what will it mean? Thanks for all your reviews, please keep them coming.