Every available person was mobilized, sent to look for the wrecked red mustang and Sara. They'd tracked Natalie's movements, found a three hundred mile area off of I 15 that she often frequented—so they limited their search area to that.

Conrad Ecklie was the first to spot the car. First to rush down the hill, sliding in the thick mud. For once the man didn't care about his appearance, sinking to his knees beside the pale, fragile hand clutching desperately at the mud, an ever-deepening hole clawed in desperation beneath it.

It was Conrad Ecklie who heard her broken words. "Ecklie?...Grissom…tell…not his fault….Cath…not cry…face blotchy when cries…Nick, Greg…brothers…only family…tell…Warrick…take care of them…Brass…thank you…take care of Grissom…please…not his fault…sorry a bitch…so much…"

"Shh. Sara. They're coming, I've already radioed them. Just hang on, we'll move this damned car, get you fixed up." What was he supposed to say? Her voice was reedy, her skin so cold. He could just barely see her eyes in the early morning light, the cloud cover making it hazy. He almost wished he couldn't. "Then you can go back to telling me what an ass-kisser I am."

Conrad never thought he'd see this day. Sara Sidle broken, weak, fragile. It was a day that would live in his nightmares for a long time to come. And he didn't even like the woman—but he had to admire her, too. She was a fighter, and a damned good criminalist, even if she were a handful, a powder keg of emotion.

He held her hand, noticing how small it actually was. What did he know about Sara the woman? Had she always just been Grissom's little pet? Had he even bothered to look past that? Get to know the pretty brunette personally? God, she was smaller than he remembered. "I can hear them, Sara. They're almost here. Are you still with me?"

"Yesss…baby…hurts…just want to sleep…Bruno needs walked…plants…bugs…"

Her words made him swallow hard, fearing she was sliding into incoherence, that they were losing her. What did they really know of her condition under that car? She could very well be suffering life-threatening internal injuries. He could already tell she was at least mildly hypothermic.

"Sara…Sara…Sidle!" He had to shout to get her to open her eyes and look at him again. Even when she did he feared she didn't recognize him. "I need to ask you some questions. We have to find out how badly you're hurt. Can you help me?"

"Yesss…"

"Good girl." He inhaled deeply, the scent of mud and copper filling his nose. "Can you feel your feet?"

"Yes. Chest hurts, though. Stomach…lower…baby…legs pinned…"

Was she babbling? Conrad was shamed to say he didn't know her well enough to tell if she was losing it.

He didn't get the chance to ask her anything else as more rescuers flooded the scene. He looked wildly around, searching for someone else to take his place, someone she'd feel more comfortable with, but saw no one. So he stayed.

Conrad was the one who heard her scream when the car was lifted off of her. Conrad was the one with tears on his cheeks when he saw the blood on her pants, smeared with mud, coating her thighs, her lower stomach.

The paramedics placed a neck brace around her neck, strapped a backboard to her before rolling her over. The rescue copter hovered nearby, a giant beacon to those rescuers searching elsewhere. They raised her into its waiting belly, and soon Conrad found himself flying across the dessert—the only rescuer there who knew the woman at all.

What was he supposed to do? Let her go to the hospital alone?

They wheeled her into the Dessert Palms trauma center, shouting orders. Conrad followed, stopping only when they wheeled her through security doors. He saw the sheriff waiting in the lobby. The halls where lined with police officers and law enforcement personnel including members of the lab—all having come to pay their respects to a downed member of the team. It was a show of support that only those in law enforcement could understand.

"Conrad?" The sheriff asked, concern on his face, though he'd only had the most limited of contact with Sara in the past. "What do you know?"

"Absolutely nothing. She could feel her feet, so that is good, but she was in a lot of pain. Shock, hypothermia. And blood, she was covered in blood. Has anyone notified her team members? Grissom?"

Conrad didn't want to be the one to tell the sheriff his suspicions about Grissom and Sara. Yesterday he would have loved to blurt it out—but not today. Today he felt no professional jealousy, no need to make Grissom's life miserable. The entomologist had enough on his plate.

"They're coming. Should be here soon."

Conrad was the first to see Jim Brass enter the trauma center. "Brass!"

"Sara? How is she?" The older man was pale, visibly shaking. Ecklie and the sheriff shared a surprised glance. Conrad knew that Sara often worked with the detective, but the man's actions spoke of more than professional concern.

Conrad freely admitted to himself that the closeness of Grissom's team was one thing that had always bothered him. And here was more proof. Someone had pierced Brass's crusty exterior—and it was the firecracker Sidle who had done it.

"We don't know anything yet. Do you know where Grissom is?" Conrad placed a hand on Brass's shoulder. It was then he realized that he was covered with mud and what could only be Sara Sidle's blood. His own stomach lurched at the sight. Who would have guessed he would be the one to find her?

"Brown and Stokes are bringing him. Willows and Sanders were right behind me. Where is she? Have you spoken to her doctor?"

"No. They've taken her into the trauma room." Ecklie wiped the mud off his arm, not wanting to see the reminder of that dessert scene. "Listen. She was awake, could feel her feet. She recognized me. She was mostly coherent and we talked."

"You found her?" Brass's voice rose in incredulity.

"Yes. I flew in with her." Ecklie's mouth twisted ironically. "I don't know how much comfort I was, but I stayed with her."

"God man, do you think that matters. You found her." Brass did the one thing no one in the hall would ever have expected—he hugged Conrad Ecklie.

Conrad was the first to see the third shift supervisor running into the building, followed closely by two of his team members.

Brass stepped to block his friend, keeping him from rushing headlong into the ER. "Gil?"

"Jim, where is she?" He looked ten times worse than he had when Stokes had been found and Brass knew why.

"In the trauma room, Gil. She was speaking and recognized Ecklie. You need to calm down so you can speak with the doctor when he comes out." Jim had pulled himself together after seeing Grissom's state, and he knew he'd have to be strong for the entomologist. It would be hard—Sara was more his daughter, then his own daughter was. He could only imagine how Grissom must feel.

"Who found her?" Grissom's hands shook as he continued to stare down the long hallway towards the ER doors. "What did she say?"

"I found her, Gil. Flew in the chopper with her. She was remarkably coherent, and she could feel her legs. She was breathing pretty good too." Ecklie found himself trying to reassure the one man who truly irritated him.

"Thank you, Ecklie." Grissom clamped him on the shoulder. It was then he noticed the blood staining Ecklie's clothes. "Conrad—was she bleeding?"

"I think so. I don't know how badly. Gil. I wish I did." Conrad made the conscious choice not to tell anyone exactly what Sara had told him while waiting for rescue. Not unless it became necessary.

The waiting room filled, word of Sara's rescue making the rounds of radios and cell phones. Brass saw Sofia, standing next to Nick, one hand resting on Greg's shoulder. The younger CSI looked almost as bad as Grissom and Brass felt for him, knowing he was probably still a little bit in love with Sara. Mandy and Wendy were nearby, and Catherine was resting in Warrick's arms. Brass watched as she breathed deeply then straightened her shoulders. She would assume leadership of the team until Grissom was able to function again.

"What about Sara's family?" the sheriff asked, and Grissom finally noticed him. His eyes took in all the other officers and people lining the hall. Waiting on news of Sara.

"She has no one. Just us, just the team." Grissom's voice was low and the sheriff strained to hear him.

"We're her family." Brass and Catherine both spoke, and the sheriff's eyes turned to them, noticing the members of the graveyard shift moving closer together. Moving to stand behind and beside Grissom, a solid wall of support that had the sheriff's suspicions rising.

He'd known Gil Grissom for years and had never seen him look this shaken. Had never seen shudders running the man's body the way they were now. Just how close were the entomologist and his employee?

Conrad excused himself to run back to the lab. He had to get out of his bloody clothes, needed to. He returned less than an hour later, needing to hear how she was. His concern mystified him—they'd always been at odds. But now it seemed so petty, so wrong.

He sank into a chair beside the sheriff. "Anything new?"

"No, her doctor hasn't came out yet." The sheriff sipped his coffee, remarkably cool amidst so many worried colleagues. Of course, he'd done this waiting game before with injured members of his force. "What's the story with Sara Sidle, Conrad?"

His words were low and Conrad took a moment to think how to answer. "Grissom hand picked her during the Holly Gribbs situation."

"I know that. I meant between her and her team?"

"Sara's, well, Sara's emotional. Too emotional for this job I think. But she's damned good as well, one of the best. She's had a few problems with Catherine Willows but I think they've managed to work things out. Other than that, I really don't know the woman that well."

"And Grissom? How close are they?"

"I don't know. He knew her before she came to Vegas, they work well together. Have they dated? I don't know. Does Grissom have feelings for her—after today I can honestly say I think he does. Don't you?" Conrad watched the man in question for a few moments. He sat so eerily still on a nearby couch, Willows and Sanders on either side. Brass stood pacing in front of them, a cup of hospital coffee in his hands. Stokes and Brown stood near the doorway, eyes fastened on the steel security doors leading to the emergency room. Sofia stood with one hand wrapped around Nick Stokes lower arm, a grip of comfort and something more.

At least another hour passed. Waiting. Catherine tried to get Grissom to drink some coffee but he refused. She finally pushed a small container of apple juice into his hand and some peanut butter crackers, ordering him to eat. Conrad heard her say "You'll be no good to her if you worry yourself sick, Gil."

Conrad watched the man do as he was told. Grissom doing what he was told? Conrad was now convinced. Grissom was in love with the woman.

"Why'd that woman pick Sara?" The sheriff asked quietly.

"We think it was revenge for the Ernie Dell shooting. He'd addressed his video directly to Grissom and the girl seemed to blame Gil for it. Grissom isn't particularly close to anyone outside of the lab, I believe."

"So why Sidle?"

"I don't know. Availability, maybe. Sara often soloed on cases."

"No more. No CSI is to solo again. This is the second kidnapping in three years."

"It would mean hiring more CSIs and with the budget cuts, can we justify it?" Conrad had considered this, but would the powers that be go for it.

"Now we can."

Conrad was shocked. Wasn't this the same man who had told him to prepare the lab for a funeral when Nick Stokes was taken?

The security doors opened and a young doctor in green scrubs wearily strode down the officer-lined hall, stopping just inside the waiting room. "Who's in charge here? Waiting for Ms. Sidle?"

"I am." Grissom stood quickly, his actions echoed by all in the room. "How is she?"

"Remarkably lucky." The doctor paused a moment. "There was some internal bleeding, and her spleen was damaged beyond repair. We've removed it and she's more than stable. Are you her family?"

"Yes." It was all he said and it came out in a firm, confident tone. "When can I see her?"

"Not for a while, she's in recovery right now. Are you the boyfriend?"

Grissom nodded. "Yes. Why?"

"May I speak to you privately?"

Grissom followed her out of the waiting room, completely missing the looks passing between those left behind. His team knew of the closeness between him and Sara, having heard his earlier confession, but why would the doctor want to speak with him in private after already giving an update on Sara's condition to a whole room full of people. How had she even known Sara had a boyfriend?

The doctor paused about fifteen feet from the nearest people, who just happened to be Conrad and the sheriff.

Conrad's throat seized as he heard the gist of the conversation. "I'm sorry, sir. By the time the medics arrived on scene she'd already miscarried. Did she know she was pregnant?"

Conrad saw rather than heard Grissom's affirmative response. He felt for Grissom then, remembering his ex-wife's miscarriage nearly ten years ago. It had been horrible and the circumstances weren't anywhere near as traumatic as this.

"Will she be alright?" Grissom's voice carried, shaky and tormented.

"Eventually. She should even be able to get pregnant again. Listen, she's stable, but won't wake for at least another six hours. Why don't you go get some rest. Then you can stay with her."

"I'll be fine. I'm not leaving the hospital." Conrad could hear the trademark Grissom stubbornness in his voice.

"Very well then. Is there any way you might be able to clear the halls of all these police officers?"

"Thank you, doctor. I'll certainly try." Grissom turned and walked toward the rest of his team. His voice carried in the silence. "She'll be fine."

Conrad Ecklie was the one to catch him when his knees gave out, saying her name over and over again.

Conrad Ecklie wasn't the only one in the waiting room wiping their eyes as he wept for her.

Conrad Ecklie wasn't the only one to learn a little about the depths of a quiet man's emotions.

Conrad Ecklie wasn't the only to change that day.