"The Other Shoe"

I knew what the outcome would be the minute I heard Catherine's transmission over the radio. I had been to enough crime scenes in my career to know when we had a DB, a person alive that had evaded death altogether or someone in between. Frankly, I hoped Sara would be the third option, although my racing mind told me I thought it was the first.

I had never been so scared in my life and I normally wouldn't be the first person to admit that. Usually I detached myself from my work easily, but in this caseā€¦ It was more, Sara was more than just another victim.

Nick and I are just a few miles from where Catherine and Warrick are and we get there soon enough, the crowd by the rock in the scrub is a dead giveaway. By now we have been searching for hours the temperature is over 100" and still climbing which made our clothes; buttoned shirts and bulletproof vests issued by the department practically unbearable.

I am out of the car before Nick even has a chance to pull to a stop, I am running to where Catherine is and I note she's already radioed for the paramedics, who are but a transmission away.

The EMTs are there within minutes and as they work I get my first look at Sara.

She is pale and unconscious, obviously overcome by the heat hours before. Her brown hair is wrapped in a makeshift turban of sorts, perhaps to conceal injuries she sustained while under the car, where the Miniature Killer a.k.a. Natalie Davis, dumped her body almost 24 hours before. Her arm, although in a makeshift sling, seems to be at an odd angle and without even asking I know it is broken. I'm sure I will find out how it came to be so later.

Catherine is about to climb in to the medical transport when I stop her.

"I'll go." I hear myself say. There is no point in trying to hide that Sara means more to me than just another colleague, the other shoe has dropped and I'm sure the news will reach Ecklie soon enough. As the transport takes off I reach for her hand, a mantra of "wake up Sara, wake up Sara, wake up Sara" running through my head.

I watched idly as the paramedics begin to start an IV and run fluids; I know the rest of her injuries will be attended to once we reach Desert Palm, but for now she needs to stabilize, I know without asking she's in bad shape.

Finally after what seems like an eternity, her eyes flutter open. She doesn't speak, but she sees me there and knowing that is enough.