Impact

Chapter 8

Several EMT's flurry around the car, their shouts intermingling with those of my friends, until I can't even tell whose voice is whose.

"BP 90 over 60!"

"Warrick, stay still!"

"Good breath sounds."

"Grissom! Cath, get Grissom, I need to talk to him."

"Get this guy out of here!"

It takes two of the burly men to drag Grissom away from me. Another takes over, placing an oxygen mask over my mouth and nose, and placing two fingers on my neck.

"Got a weak pulse," he calls, and Grissom stops struggling with the two men. "We need to get her to a hospital, now."

But extracting me from the smashed car is proving to be a problem. Both of my legs are wedged into the crumpled area by the gas pedal, and they're afraid to twist my body in case my spine has been injured. I'd tell them I have three broken bones in my back, but I can't exactly speak at the moment. It's hard to wake your body up when you're not in it. I stand next to Grissom, wanting to hold him, comfort him. He wraps his arms around himself, as if he knows my intentions.

The EMT's get Warrick out of the car first, putting pressure on his head wound and making sure his vitals are stable. He won't sit still, though, and it finally seems to register to Grissom that Warrick's calling his name.

He hurries over to the stretcher. "Warrick?"

"I'm so sorry, Grissom," Warrick says, choking back a sob. "She wanted me to. she tried-"

"Slow down," Grissom says softly.

"Sara. she tried to tell me something. to tell you something. But I didn't want to, didn't want her to think."

"It's okay. She'll be okay. Don't worry. Just. don't worry."

I don't think any of us know who Grissom is talking to - Warrick, or himself.

o-o-o-o-o

They have to use the Jaws of Life to cut me out of the car. By then, Grissom is sitting on the ground, watching them work. Greg and Nick are gone already, having promised to fill out all the paperwork at the hospital so that Warrick and I can be treated quickly. Catherine can't stand still, and keeps barking questions at the EMT's until finally one of them barks back sharply.

She finally plops down next to Grissom in a huff.

"Maybe we should head off," she says. "Sara's almost out, and they won't let us ride with her in the ambulance."

"They'll let me," he replies in a monotone.

"I don't think they will, Gil. You'd have to be a family member."

"Or fiancé."

Her eyes widen, and she blows out a slow breath. "Christ, Grissom, you sure can keep a secret."

"We were supposed to tell Ecklie today," he murmurs, watching an EMT strap me into a back brace. "Had a meeting scheduled. I was going to step down as supervisor. Only. Sara never showed up for the meeting. I should've known-"

"You couldn't have known," she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And you're the reason we found them at all. Don't blame yourself for this."

They talk a little more, but I'm losing interest. The EMT's are moving my body out of the car, and I have to wonder - have I always had that belly? If I get out of this alive, I need to do some serious sit-ups. And I don't like that shirt on me. Well, with that much blood on it, it's probably trash anyway. I concentrate on thinking about where to buy a new shirt, so I don't have to think about how much my body looks like a corpse.

o-o-o-o-o

The nice thing about being out-of-body is, there's less transit time. In the blink of an eye I'm at the hospital, watching the doctors work on Warrick. To my elation, he has to be sedated while they operate on his broken arm, and all of a sudden he's standing here beside me.

"I need a shave," he says thoughtfully, cocking his head and looking at his sleeping form.

I laugh, bumping him playfully. "Right, like having two-day stubble year-round is an accident."

He laughs back, then grows somber. "Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you dead?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"Sorry I wouldn't listen to you in the car. When you wanted to give Grissom that message."

"It's nothing he wouldn't know anyway."

He nods. "So when did you two get engaged?"

My brows furrow until he points to my hand. Huh, look at that. Apparently my out-of-body self is wearing the ring that's safely tucked in my nightstand at home. "Couple weeks ago."

"Did he do it right?"

"Right?"

"Did he take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee?"

"He did it while we were watching Jeopardy," I say, smiling softly. "We were curled up in bed, and he put the TV on to help us wake up. The Final Jeopardy question was something about passalid beetles, and I called out the answer with my eyes still closed. He didn't say anything, so I finally opened my eyes to ask him if I was right. And he was staring at me with the strangest look in his eyes. Then he just sort of blurted out, I need to marry you. As soon as possible."

"Yeah," Warrick smiles, a little wistfully. "He did it right."