Grissom stared at his phone and tried to decide what to do next. His migraine was definitely getting worse. As if she could read his mind, a message from Catherine appeared. How could she know he had spoken to Sara's doctor so soon? Hesitantly, he opened it.

"Gil, Heather told me that she/he heard from you. Get your ass back here, now. I know you're off the coast of Mexico right now. Don't make me send someone to come pick you up."

He snorted. Somehow he could see Catherine doing just that. Between her sheer stubbornness, working at the FBI, and her inheritance from Sam Braun, he wouldn't put it past her to find a way to drag him back. He knew he needed to answer her, but didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do.

Maybe he needed to listen to what everyone was telling him for once.

Instead of replying to Catherine, he first called his coordinator.

"Dr. Grissom! Glad you made it in range of a cell tower. You've got a lot of people trying to reach you. I've got a message here from a Catherine Willows from the FBI saying you're needed in Vegas immediately. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?" He asked teasingly.

"Actually, it's about my wife. Catherine is a good friend and was trying to reach me to tell me she's in hospital."

"Ah, is that it. Well in that case we'd best get you home. I've got another group heading your way to take over. Someone else can bring the Ishmael back for you and we'll get you on a faster ship to get you home. From the looks of things, they should reach you in about 12 hours." Grissom was stunned.

"How?" He started to ask.

"Well, Catherine was pretty adamant you needed to get back. I figured it would be a good idea to get the ball rolling."

"Thank you, Jack. I really appreciate it. I'll, uh, I guess I'll be ready to go in 12 hours."

"Not a problem, Dr. Grissom. Glad we could help."

He looked around the small room on the boat, and started packing and preparing to hand over the boat to someone else. He didn't notice the call he had missed while speaking to Jack.

7 months earlier

Sara looked at the stick in her hand, not believing what she was seeing. A bright blue plus sign stared back at her.

Trying for a baby had been difficult with Grissom's work. It had been well over 2 years that they had been actively trying, and just when she was ready to give up, it had happened. She was pregnant. When the initial shock wore off, the first thing she did was grab her phone to call her husband. She had to tell him immediately. There was so much that would need to change in the next 8 months. He had promised that he would put in his notice to his supervisor as soon as she had a positive test results. It had finally happened.

Her excitement dampened a bit when he didn't answer, but she wasn't going to let that ruin her day. She would tell him as soon as he called her back, which he would. They were going to be parents! A little boy with his daddy's curls and beautiful blue eyes. A little girl with his playful smile. Sara allowed herself to let her imagination run wild as she tried to call him again. After the second ring, she felt her stomach twist, and by the third ring she had dropped the phone and turned to the toilet to throw up. Well, she thought with a smile, it obviously wasn't just food poisoning that had been making her sick for the past 2 days.

It took 4 calls to reach her husband, but when he answered the first words out of her mouth were

"I'm pregnant! Gil, I'm pregnant! You're going to be a dad!" The line was silent for a full 60 seconds before he finally replied.

"You're sure? For real?" He asked, hesitant.

"I've been throwing up for 2 days straight. Took a test a few minutes ago and there's a great big blue plus sign there. Call your supervisor and tell him you're coming home." She told him.

"I'm going to be a dad." He stated and she could hear the smile on his face. "We did it."

When Catherine returned, she found Brass slouched on the floor outside Sara's room. One look at him told her that something was seriously wrong.

"Oh my God. What happened, Jim? Is Sara ok?"

"I don't know." He looked on the verge of tears. "I had just gone back in, and some kind of alarm went off. People running in from everywhere. I think it was her heart? They rushed her out of the room."

"Shit! I was only outside for what, 20 minutes? Shit shit shit." Catherine stood up and turned around, then stomped to the nurse's station and rang a bell. After a few minutes, a frazzled looking nurse came to the desk.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"Sara Sidle, room 714, where is she? What happened?" Catherine demanded. The nurse blinked.

"I'll page someone and find out for you." She said as she picked up the phone, Catherine watching her impatiently. After a few moments, she hung up.

"Dr. Mark is on his way down." She told Catherine, then returned to the patient she had been with. Catherine practically growled as she stormed back to Sara's room.

Dr. Mark appeared a few minutes later, and apologised as he approached the pair.

"I'm sorry, I tried to call her husband but couldn't reach him. Sara is in surgery right now. It looks like she had an infection that was initially missed. It caused an abscess that ruptured, which caused a cardiac event. She's ok, but unfortunately we need someone to sign..." He paused, deciding this was something to be discussed only with Sara's medical proxy. "Mr. Brass, could I speak with you privately for a moment?" He nodded, and Catherine appeared about to protest but thought better of it, and stepped away.

"We need your permission to perform a hysterectomy." Dr. Mark said quietly. "When the abcess ruptured, it caused a great deal of damage. I'm not sure if you were aware, but Sara suffered a miscarriage 4 months ago. It looks like there was a small bit of retained tissue that developed into an infection and formed an abscess. That's likely part of what was causing her difficulty eating. Having spoken to her physician, Sara had planned to try again for another baby shortly afterwards, but with her husband's absence and then filing for divorce... Unfortunately, I don't think we have any alternative." He watched as Brass processed the information. "The surgeon has tried for the last 40 minutes to repair what she could, but the damage is just too extensive." Brass reached out for the wall beside him to steady himself, cursing Grissom under his breath.

"I... we... I had no idea." Brass said. "Just do what you gotta do." He glanced over at Catherine, who was on her phone, likely trying to reach Grissom. "You're the doctors. What you think is best, that's what you should do." He looked at the clipboard that the doctor was handing him, and signed. "God, I hope she forgives me for this."