Author: Still gij

Rating: Still PG-13. 

Feedback: Still yes, and still to gilibij@yahoo.com if you intend to 
email it.

Archival: Still please ask. And I'll still say yes. 

In The End 3/3


   I'm standing inside the waiting room for the emergency department 
of Southside Hospital. Sara got taken in for examination over an hour 
ago, and I got directed here.

   Sighing, I take a few steps from my position slouching against the 
wall and sit down again. I've repeated this at least four times in 
the last hour, and I know it will be a matter of minutes before I'm 
alternating between pacing and slouching on the wall again. 

   Something beeps, and it takes me a few seconds it's my beeper, not 
that of one of the fifty or so that have gone off in the last hour. 
I'm about to scramble for it in my pocket when my cell phone starts 
ringing on my belt. 

   Ten bucks who that is. 

   I grab the phone and flick it open at the same time as I finally 
find my beeping pager and flick it off with one finger. 

   "Catherine Willows."

   "Catherine? Where are you?" Ah. Grissom. 

   Collection, please. 

   "I sent you to that crime scene two hours ago! Where are you?"

   I take a deep breath. "Griss, I'm at Southside hospital."

   "You – what?"

   "I went by Sara's place on my way to the crime scene. She's sick, 
she's in emergency." I explain quickly so the words don't choke me. 

   "She's – what's going on? She's sick?"

   "I don't know, they're doing her exam now." I answer 
miserably. "Her parents are in another state, I figured I should 
stay."

   He is silent for a long moment. "Yes. Look, you stay with her, 
I'll send Nicky to your scene. How long do you think you'll be there?"

   "No idea. As long as it takes." 

   "Look, if you're still there in the morning, I can get Lindsay for 
you, okay? We'll stop by. Call me if anything changes." He hangs up 
without saying goodbye and I'm unspeakably grateful for his sudden, 
unexpected sympathy. Lindsay – I'd hardly thought of her since I got 
here. I wonder if that makes me a bad mother, then try not to think 
about it. 

   Suddenly I would kill for a cigarette. Instead I take deep breaths 
and fish in my bag for Nicorette, hoping Sara hasn't found my newest 
hiding spot. 

   She hasn't. I take a piece from the pack and press it into my 
mouth, chewing silently. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
* * * * * * * * * * * 

   It's another hour before I hear anything real. A doctor, 
stethoscope still hanging over his shoulders, finally comes through 
the double doors from Emergency and wanders over towards me. He looks 
exhausted, but I'm too wound up, pressured by too much short-term 
anxiety to cut him any slack because of this. 

   "Catherine Willows?" he asks, consulting a clipboard through thick 
glasses. I nod and he sighs, sits down in the seat beside me. 

   "You're a relative of Sara's?" he asks uncertainly. I nod, willing 
to confirm a lie if it means I get to hear about Sara. 

   "Well, Sara's okay. There's a few things I'd just like to ask you –
does she take any medication, do you know? Antihistamines? Long term 
pain-killers?"

   I think carefully, glad for the chance to do something, 
anything. "Not prescription pain killers, no Vicodin or anything. But 
knowing Sara, I'd be willing to guess she woke up not feeling great 
and took a double shot of something."

   He makes a disapproving noise. "Tylenol? The type with codeine?"

   I think back. "There was a packet in her bathroom, yeah."

   "Right. Well, Sara's got a bad case of food poisoning. Considering 
there's no signs of her vomiting prior to reaching the hospital, I'd 
guess salmonella. We'll do tests shortly, but – Has she had meat, 
fish in the last few hours?" he looks over his glasses at me. 

   "Sara's vegetarian, but we had fish last night." I answer him. 
First time in a new restaurant and she gets food poisoning. Strike 
that one off the list. 

   "Ah. That would likely be the cause then. She has food poisoning, 
then took a large dose of something with codeine in it, and the 
combination completely knocked her system out. She's still asleep, 
and I'm guessing it's likely she'll sleep another several hours."

   I'm anxious. "She's okay though, right?"

   "Well, it's likely she'll be fine. Her being asleep complicates a 
lot of things, though. Most of the time she'd just throw up, get rid 
of the majority of the bacteria, but she's asleep. That gives them a 
chance to grow, multiply until such time as she wakes up." He 
explains. "If that gets really bad, it's likely she'll vomit it up 
anyway, but it's not likely to get that bad. In any case, we've put 
her on antibiotics through an IV.  That will clear up the worst of 
it."

   I'm reassured. "Can I see her now?"

   He gets up from the seat. "She's being moved into another room 
now. As soon as she's there, you can see her." He wanders back to the 
double doors. I, on the other hand, head for the main desk to find 
out where Sara's at. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
* * * * * * * * * * * 

   I wasn't awake long before Catherine put in an appearance. The 
door clicked, and I barely noticed it over the noise of the oxygen 
machine, but the movement caught my eye and I glanced over as she 
walked in. 

   I don't think she knew at first I was awake. At any rate, she made 
no effort to control her response as her hand went immediately over 
her mouth in a combination of shock and horror.

   I wanted desperately to touch her, remove that look from her face. 
She shouldn't ever have to look like that. I made an effort through 
the haze and managed to quirk a few fingers. 

   "Sara?" she said softly. Unbelievingly. She took quick steps to 
the side of the bed and took my hand again.

   I looked at her as best I could with the stupid mask on, trying to 
convey love, appreciation, gratitude. She was so amazing. Even with 
me doped up and completely stupid, she knew what I wanted… needed. 

   "You okay?" she asked. Perhaps an intentionally rhetorical 
question, because I couldn't answer verbally if I tried. 

   With my free hand, I tried to reach up and get rid of the mask. 
She immediately stopped me gently, instead using gentle fingers to 
loosen the elastic around my head and drop it the mask to the side. 

   I smiled up at her. "Hey." 

   She gave me a wavering smile back. "Hey." She said softly, 
unnoticed tears welling up in her eyes.  

   "I'm sorry." I murmur. Her eyebrows immediately raise. 

   "What for? I'm the one who took you out and gave you food 
poisoning."

   "Food poisoning? Oh, that explains a lot." I mutter. "But I'm 
sorry to do… this… to you. I never wanted to…" I break off awkwardly. 

   "Sar, the only thing that would worry me would be if you didn't 
want me here." She assures me. I grip her fingers a little tighter, 
trying to ignore the unhappy signals coming from my stomach and focus 
on her, now.

   "I was scared for you." She admits. "You wouldn't wake up, and you 
had fever… you just scared me."

   "I'm sorry." I murmur again, and she leans closer, her blonde hair 
forming a golden halo in the hospital lights. 

   "Don't be. I'd rather be here with you than at a scene with 
Grissom." She admonishes me. "But don't do this again any time soon, 
okay?"

   "'kay." I murmur, sleepy again. I tug her hand closer to me, 
holding her fingers prisoner against my stomach. 

   She smiles at my sleepy possessiveness, strokes my hair with one 
hand. I reach up and touch her face, trailing my thumb over her soft 
lips. I want to kiss her, but I couldn't draw her to me if my life 
depended on it. It's an effort to hold my arm in the air. 

   "Sar…" she whispers. I smile softly again as she drops down and 
grazes my lips with hers, the briefest touch. A butterfly's sweet 
kiss. 

   I manage to wrap her hair around my fingers and draw her nearer 
for another kiss. Truly, it's not me doing it so much as just the 
weight of my hand, but I'm not about to complain. 

   Her lips touch mine again, and I run my tongue over them gently, 
tracing an outline of her mouth. She smiles and kisses me deeper, 
sliding her tongue into my mouth and tracing my teeth. 

   All too soon, she's pulling back, and I moan softly, wanting her 
so badly. Wanting to be out of here so badly. 

   "Shhh, baby." She hushes me softly. "We can go home soon. I'll 
take better care of you there." She promises me. 

   I moan again at that. She just smiles again, and I draw her 
captive hand closer, cradling it against my chest.

   She's here, she came here for me and she's staying, and in the 
end, that's all that matters. 

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