TITLE: Worn Thin, Part 2
TITLE: Worn Thin, Part 2
Author: greenegret
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any characters and settings from it.
Beta: Thanks to Jennifer-Kate (Capn Voyager, whose email I've lost) for helping me with some of the medical stuff
Summary: Several conversations in the hospital
Spoilers: 7.24
Archive: P&P
Sofia held onto the unconscious Sara’s hand as the helicopter’s blades thrummed above her. She swallowed hard, turning to yell to the EMT holding an IV on the other side of Sara, “how bad is it? She was able to get some sixty feet away from that car she was buried under!”
“And that’s a miracle - she must be tough as nails! The mud acted like a bandage, or she might have bled out, if she didn’t die of the internal bleeding - we’re looking at a partially collapsed lung, broken leg, broken ribs, broken clavicle, major lacs, and major bruising - at least!“
The cop just held the CSI’s hand, worrying even more as she took in the pallor of Sara’s skin behind the mud. “Well, she’s tough alright - she’s going to be a righteous pain in no time!” She sent up a little prayer of thanks that the sky had calmed enough to allow the helicopter to come for Sara.
Sofia stared at Sara, lying scrubbed and bandaged in the ICU hospital bed, oxygen hissing slightly from the tubing surrounding her face. The woman’s dark hair lay in stiff spikes against the pillow, still clogged with the mud that Sofia could see still streaking the pale skin in a few places. The cop had left to give her statement to Brass, and had returned at the end of the long, long shift. She’d used her badge to muscle her way in to sit near her friend.
Sara had been found to have her ribs broken in six places on her right side, a cracked right clavicle, her right leg broken in three places, and a badly bruised spleen - they weren’t sure if it would have to be removed yet. The doctors had guessed that she might have caused some of the damage when she was getting herself free of the car and crawling - they thought she would most likely have bled to death if it had all happened earlier. As it was, she had needed a transfusion, and would need orthopedic surgery. Sofia had donated blood in Sara’s name as soon as she had found out.
She scowled, rubbing her head in a flash of irritation - where was Grissom? She knew that he was supposed to be Sara’s lover, but where was he? He doesn’t deserve her, she thought. She remembered the rumors she’d heard about him spending the night with Lady Heather, the dominatrix, after her hospital stay. She knew they were true - she’d seen him with her at the hospital, and also seen the crease that appeared between Sara’s eyes as she considered it.
She looked up, hearing a heavy footstep. Grissom stood there, looking at her with mild bemusement, before striding over to stare down at Sara. His expression didn’t change as he looked at her, but he reached to stroke her cheek gently.
“Where’ve you been?” asked Sofia, not quite hostilely.
“Supervising the transport of the car. I hope the rain’s left some evidence on it.” He looked up into Sofia’s incredulous eyes. “I knew she was still sedated - Catherine was here to process her before.”
“Uhhh. Okay. I hope she understands that later, when she wakes up and finds out.” Sofia was very fond of Grissom, but she could not understand being able to distance yourself from your emotions enough to stay away from someone you loved who was hurt, no matter how logical it was. She worried that Sara was willing to accept so little, after what the dark-haired CSI had told her about her childhood.
“Yes. She said you knew. Sara and I… We understand each other.” He looked emotionlessly down at his unconscious lover. “I couldn’t help while they had her in surgery, or were re-inflating her lung, but I could make sure that she was safe from Natalie, and any other little Dales that happened to be around.”
“You waited for Lady Heather. I saw you there.” Sofia’s voice was vaguely accusing.
“Heather was awake - she needed me.”
“Sara needed you, too.”
“She had you. And I think that it was more important to make sure that she stayed safe. Natalie had to have had help.”
Sofia frowned, shaken slightly at this reminder of Sara’s continued vulnerability. Natalie was safely immured in the jail’s hospital ward in the middle of a psychotic break, but Grissom was right - she must have had help. It was part of her own excuse for being camped out in the ICU, after all.
She sighed and subsided, continuing to stare quietly at the deathly pale woman on the cot, entombed within a mass of tubes and machinery. Grissom stood quietly behind her for a time before turning and leaving. Sofia did not offer to give up her seat for him to stay.
“He-ey…” Grissom reached to touch Sara’s cheek, as she peered blearily up at him. “There you are.”
“Gris,” Sara gave him a lopsided smile, distorted by the swollen bruise shadowing her jaw. “Car?”
“It’s secure. Most of the… evidence on the outside is washed away, but we got epithelials from inside the driver’s side window.” He didn’t mention that most of the evidence on the outside would have been Sara’s blood.
“Who?” Sara asked, still too groggy to bother forming sentences.
“Who did it?” Grissom correctly interpreted. “Natalie Dale. Dale’s foster daughter who survived - she was working in the lab for a month. You’re safe here. She’s locked away - both in the jail and in her own mind. She had a break after she took you.”
“’Kay. Good.” Sara’s eyes slid closed, as she fell back into the warm morphine fog.
“Heather. What are you doing here?”
Sara jolted out of the drugged half-sleep she’d been lolling in for an unknown period at the sound of Grissom’s voice. She slit her eyes to verify that yes, Lady Heather stood near her feet.
“I came to see that my friend’s lover was recovering. And she was kind, before, when she didn’t have reason to be.” The tall woman walked nearer Sara’s bed.
Sara vaguely remembered being jealous of Grissom before, unwillingly threatened by the fascinating dominatrix’s hold on him. It didn’t seem to matter now. She didn’t think she was still in love with him, although she did love him. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been in love with him.
“Sara’s always kind to victims.”
“Yes, she is. She deserves the same kindness.” Sara lay still, not particularly interested in talking to either of them. She could practically feel Heather’s cold stare, directed at Grissom. She wondered distantly if Grissom had ever mentioned his relationship with her to the dominatrix - the woman had referred to it with a certain emphasis just then.
“I spoke to her, before. You always pick the damaged ones - is that your idea of avoiding going to the theater, Grissom?” Sara felt her face fall into a slight pout as she lay still - she felt the justice of Heather’s snide comment, even if she didn’t quite understand the theater reference, but she didn’t appreciate being called damaged.
A sharp electronic beep and a buzzing cloud of fuzziness signified the delivery of more morphine and she felt herself falling into it, losing any response that Grissom might have made.
Sara surfaced again, this time a little more aware. She took inventory of her body - she felt far too heavy to try to move, but she could feel all of her limbs, the remaining painkillers forming a thin shield between herself and the injuries she knew were there. She could feel odd patches of numbness and pulling, places that she recognized must be sticky bandages or sutures.
Someone was there, with her. She felt her shallow layer of awareness refocus to concentrate on the silent warmth at her side, fingers carding lightly through her hair. She knew she should be wary - she had little enough reason to trust anyone unknown and touching her - but she was not, quite. She heard a soft sigh - female. Not Grissom then.
She opened her eyes a bit. The room was dim, but she blinked the blurriness from her eyes - she recognized that long fall of hair, shining in the beam of light from the hallway. Sofia.
“Sofie?” she forced out, swallowing hard.
“Sara…” Sofia looked up from her lap, turning to her gladly, reaching to touch her face tenderly.
Sara smiled a bit involuntarily, feeling the skin pull, her lips dry enough to crack.
“Cn’ I have some water?” Sara forced out.
“Ice chips, dear heart.” Sofia smiled at Sara’s slight quirk of a frown. “It would be all down your front, else, or you would choke.”
Sara took the chips from Sofia’s fingers, her dry tongue rasping slightly against the woman’s finger. She sucked quietly on the chips, feeling the cool water against the hot dryness of her throat and mouth.
“You’ve had us worried. I can’t tell you what it felt like to see that car, and then not find you under it.” Sofia fought back tears - Sara could hear it in her voice.
She swallowed the last bit of water from the ice and said, “you found me. I remember you.” Sara thought about that, about seeing the golden woman in the sun when she didn’t even have the words to know who she was, or if the people she saw would hurt her, and knowing, with a surety that she was surprised at now, that the woman she saw was safe. She thought fleetingly that she had felt far more comfortable with Sofia than with any other visitor, and especially with Grissom, then pushed that aside.
“We were all charging all over the landscape, looking. Grissom and Brass actually put that… woman into a catatonic state, trying to get information out of her.”
Sara shifted uneasily at that - what had they done?
“She just couldn’t take being challenged on her actions - they didn’t hurt her,” Sofia said quickly, reaching to touch Sara’s cheek again. Sara could hear a bit of distaste in her friend’s voice, though she could not see her face clearly. She lay quietly for a few beats, feeling Sofia’s hand resting near her face, not quite touching now.
“Sof? How bad is it?” Sara felt her heart speed up a bit, hearing nothing but the hum of machines and the whine of a badly balanced fluorescent light.
“They didn’t tell you?” Sofia stalled, her body tensed.
“Haven’t exactly been here to tell. Sofia?” Sara was starting to be frightened.
“You’ll be fine, but…” Sofia’s hand moved to grasp Sara’s upper arm lightly. She swallowed and continued, “you have a badly broken leg, several broken ribs, a broken collar bone, and they were worried about your lung and spleen. They fixed the lung - you shouldn’t have any trouble with that - and they were able to save the spleen. You had several cuts, but it’s all healing just fine.”
Sara’s stomach clutched, and she felt a bit dizzy, but she willed her fear behind the shield of her mind and forced out a question in a small voice, “so… how long? How long have I been here? How long will I be here?”
“Four days - they just moved you off of the ICU yesterday. I don’t know how long you’ll have to stay, but you were lucky with the leg - you broke it in three places below the knee, but none of the fractures were complete - you won’t need surgery. You will be stuck in a cast for a while, though.” Sofia hovered over her protectively, her face indistinct in the dim light.
Sara thought with despair of what this meant - “broken ribs, broken collar bone - I won’t be able to walk on crutches. I can’t stay in the hospital Sofie, I just can’t.” She stopped, not wanting to reveal too much even half-drugged, even to this woman who had become such a good friend, the best she’d had in ages, not when she felt so vulnerable.
“Don’t then. I’ve been thinking about it, Sara - your apartment is on the second floor. Come stay with me - my townhouse has a bedroom on the ground floor, and we can hire a rehab aid to come as long as you need it. Insurance will pay for that - yours is the same as mine.” Sofia stroked Sara’s arm gently. “Don’t say no now - just think about it. It won’t be any trouble for me, there is plenty of space, and I’d love to have you there.”
And Sara would be safe from anyone like Natalie Dale, they both thought but didn’t say aloud.
Author: greenegret
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any characters and settings from it.
Beta: Thanks to Jennifer-Kate (Capn Voyager, whose email I've lost) for helping me with some of the medical stuff
Summary: Several conversations in the hospital
Spoilers: 7.24
Archive: P&P
Sofia held onto the unconscious Sara’s hand as the helicopter’s blades thrummed above her. She swallowed hard, turning to yell to the EMT holding an IV on the other side of Sara, “how bad is it? She was able to get some sixty feet away from that car she was buried under!”
“And that’s a miracle - she must be tough as nails! The mud acted like a bandage, or she might have bled out, if she didn’t die of the internal bleeding - we’re looking at a partially collapsed lung, broken leg, broken ribs, broken clavicle, major lacs, and major bruising - at least!“
The cop just held the CSI’s hand, worrying even more as she took in the pallor of Sara’s skin behind the mud. “Well, she’s tough alright - she’s going to be a righteous pain in no time!” She sent up a little prayer of thanks that the sky had calmed enough to allow the helicopter to come for Sara.
Sofia stared at Sara, lying scrubbed and bandaged in the ICU hospital bed, oxygen hissing slightly from the tubing surrounding her face. The woman’s dark hair lay in stiff spikes against the pillow, still clogged with the mud that Sofia could see still streaking the pale skin in a few places. The cop had left to give her statement to Brass, and had returned at the end of the long, long shift. She’d used her badge to muscle her way in to sit near her friend.
Sara had been found to have her ribs broken in six places on her right side, a cracked right clavicle, her right leg broken in three places, and a badly bruised spleen - they weren’t sure if it would have to be removed yet. The doctors had guessed that she might have caused some of the damage when she was getting herself free of the car and crawling - they thought she would most likely have bled to death if it had all happened earlier. As it was, she had needed a transfusion, and would need orthopedic surgery. Sofia had donated blood in Sara’s name as soon as she had found out.
She scowled, rubbing her head in a flash of irritation - where was Grissom? She knew that he was supposed to be Sara’s lover, but where was he? He doesn’t deserve her, she thought. She remembered the rumors she’d heard about him spending the night with Lady Heather, the dominatrix, after her hospital stay. She knew they were true - she’d seen him with her at the hospital, and also seen the crease that appeared between Sara’s eyes as she considered it.
She looked up, hearing a heavy footstep. Grissom stood there, looking at her with mild bemusement, before striding over to stare down at Sara. His expression didn’t change as he looked at her, but he reached to stroke her cheek gently.
“Where’ve you been?” asked Sofia, not quite hostilely.
“Supervising the transport of the car. I hope the rain’s left some evidence on it.” He looked up into Sofia’s incredulous eyes. “I knew she was still sedated - Catherine was here to process her before.”
“Uhhh. Okay. I hope she understands that later, when she wakes up and finds out.” Sofia was very fond of Grissom, but she could not understand being able to distance yourself from your emotions enough to stay away from someone you loved who was hurt, no matter how logical it was. She worried that Sara was willing to accept so little, after what the dark-haired CSI had told her about her childhood.
“Yes. She said you knew. Sara and I… We understand each other.” He looked emotionlessly down at his unconscious lover. “I couldn’t help while they had her in surgery, or were re-inflating her lung, but I could make sure that she was safe from Natalie, and any other little Dales that happened to be around.”
“You waited for Lady Heather. I saw you there.” Sofia’s voice was vaguely accusing.
“Heather was awake - she needed me.”
“Sara needed you, too.”
“She had you. And I think that it was more important to make sure that she stayed safe. Natalie had to have had help.”
Sofia frowned, shaken slightly at this reminder of Sara’s continued vulnerability. Natalie was safely immured in the jail’s hospital ward in the middle of a psychotic break, but Grissom was right - she must have had help. It was part of her own excuse for being camped out in the ICU, after all.
She sighed and subsided, continuing to stare quietly at the deathly pale woman on the cot, entombed within a mass of tubes and machinery. Grissom stood quietly behind her for a time before turning and leaving. Sofia did not offer to give up her seat for him to stay.
“He-ey…” Grissom reached to touch Sara’s cheek, as she peered blearily up at him. “There you are.”
“Gris,” Sara gave him a lopsided smile, distorted by the swollen bruise shadowing her jaw. “Car?”
“It’s secure. Most of the… evidence on the outside is washed away, but we got epithelials from inside the driver’s side window.” He didn’t mention that most of the evidence on the outside would have been Sara’s blood.
“Who?” Sara asked, still too groggy to bother forming sentences.
“Who did it?” Grissom correctly interpreted. “Natalie Dale. Dale’s foster daughter who survived - she was working in the lab for a month. You’re safe here. She’s locked away - both in the jail and in her own mind. She had a break after she took you.”
“’Kay. Good.” Sara’s eyes slid closed, as she fell back into the warm morphine fog.
“Heather. What are you doing here?”
Sara jolted out of the drugged half-sleep she’d been lolling in for an unknown period at the sound of Grissom’s voice. She slit her eyes to verify that yes, Lady Heather stood near her feet.
“I came to see that my friend’s lover was recovering. And she was kind, before, when she didn’t have reason to be.” The tall woman walked nearer Sara’s bed.
Sara vaguely remembered being jealous of Grissom before, unwillingly threatened by the fascinating dominatrix’s hold on him. It didn’t seem to matter now. She didn’t think she was still in love with him, although she did love him. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been in love with him.
“Sara’s always kind to victims.”
“Yes, she is. She deserves the same kindness.” Sara lay still, not particularly interested in talking to either of them. She could practically feel Heather’s cold stare, directed at Grissom. She wondered distantly if Grissom had ever mentioned his relationship with her to the dominatrix - the woman had referred to it with a certain emphasis just then.
“I spoke to her, before. You always pick the damaged ones - is that your idea of avoiding going to the theater, Grissom?” Sara felt her face fall into a slight pout as she lay still - she felt the justice of Heather’s snide comment, even if she didn’t quite understand the theater reference, but she didn’t appreciate being called damaged.
A sharp electronic beep and a buzzing cloud of fuzziness signified the delivery of more morphine and she felt herself falling into it, losing any response that Grissom might have made.
Sara surfaced again, this time a little more aware. She took inventory of her body - she felt far too heavy to try to move, but she could feel all of her limbs, the remaining painkillers forming a thin shield between herself and the injuries she knew were there. She could feel odd patches of numbness and pulling, places that she recognized must be sticky bandages or sutures.
Someone was there, with her. She felt her shallow layer of awareness refocus to concentrate on the silent warmth at her side, fingers carding lightly through her hair. She knew she should be wary - she had little enough reason to trust anyone unknown and touching her - but she was not, quite. She heard a soft sigh - female. Not Grissom then.
She opened her eyes a bit. The room was dim, but she blinked the blurriness from her eyes - she recognized that long fall of hair, shining in the beam of light from the hallway. Sofia.
“Sofie?” she forced out, swallowing hard.
“Sara…” Sofia looked up from her lap, turning to her gladly, reaching to touch her face tenderly.
Sara smiled a bit involuntarily, feeling the skin pull, her lips dry enough to crack.
“Cn’ I have some water?” Sara forced out.
“Ice chips, dear heart.” Sofia smiled at Sara’s slight quirk of a frown. “It would be all down your front, else, or you would choke.”
Sara took the chips from Sofia’s fingers, her dry tongue rasping slightly against the woman’s finger. She sucked quietly on the chips, feeling the cool water against the hot dryness of her throat and mouth.
“You’ve had us worried. I can’t tell you what it felt like to see that car, and then not find you under it.” Sofia fought back tears - Sara could hear it in her voice.
She swallowed the last bit of water from the ice and said, “you found me. I remember you.” Sara thought about that, about seeing the golden woman in the sun when she didn’t even have the words to know who she was, or if the people she saw would hurt her, and knowing, with a surety that she was surprised at now, that the woman she saw was safe. She thought fleetingly that she had felt far more comfortable with Sofia than with any other visitor, and especially with Grissom, then pushed that aside.
“We were all charging all over the landscape, looking. Grissom and Brass actually put that… woman into a catatonic state, trying to get information out of her.”
Sara shifted uneasily at that - what had they done?
“She just couldn’t take being challenged on her actions - they didn’t hurt her,” Sofia said quickly, reaching to touch Sara’s cheek again. Sara could hear a bit of distaste in her friend’s voice, though she could not see her face clearly. She lay quietly for a few beats, feeling Sofia’s hand resting near her face, not quite touching now.
“Sof? How bad is it?” Sara felt her heart speed up a bit, hearing nothing but the hum of machines and the whine of a badly balanced fluorescent light.
“They didn’t tell you?” Sofia stalled, her body tensed.
“Haven’t exactly been here to tell. Sofia?” Sara was starting to be frightened.
“You’ll be fine, but…” Sofia’s hand moved to grasp Sara’s upper arm lightly. She swallowed and continued, “you have a badly broken leg, several broken ribs, a broken collar bone, and they were worried about your lung and spleen. They fixed the lung - you shouldn’t have any trouble with that - and they were able to save the spleen. You had several cuts, but it’s all healing just fine.”
Sara’s stomach clutched, and she felt a bit dizzy, but she willed her fear behind the shield of her mind and forced out a question in a small voice, “so… how long? How long have I been here? How long will I be here?”
“Four days - they just moved you off of the ICU yesterday. I don’t know how long you’ll have to stay, but you were lucky with the leg - you broke it in three places below the knee, but none of the fractures were complete - you won’t need surgery. You will be stuck in a cast for a while, though.” Sofia hovered over her protectively, her face indistinct in the dim light.
Sara thought with despair of what this meant - “broken ribs, broken collar bone - I won’t be able to walk on crutches. I can’t stay in the hospital Sofie, I just can’t.” She stopped, not wanting to reveal too much even half-drugged, even to this woman who had become such a good friend, the best she’d had in ages, not when she felt so vulnerable.
“Don’t then. I’ve been thinking about it, Sara - your apartment is on the second floor. Come stay with me - my townhouse has a bedroom on the ground floor, and we can hire a rehab aid to come as long as you need it. Insurance will pay for that - yours is the same as mine.” Sofia stroked Sara’s arm gently. “Don’t say no now - just think about it. It won’t be any trouble for me, there is plenty of space, and I’d love to have you there.”
And Sara would be safe from anyone like Natalie Dale, they both thought but didn’t say aloud.