Gil Grissom sat in the hospital waiting room, gnawing at his fingernails with anxiety. He wanted more than anything to be by her side, to keep his own sanity if not for her sake, though that permission was denied as a precaution for unforeseen circumstances, given her age. However, he was assured and knew deep down himself that she was in safe, capable hands and would fight anything that dared to come up against her – but that didn't ease the niggling worry in his mind that something could go awfully wrong.

As he waited, he closely eyed the nurses scurrying to and fro, tending to their patients and going about their daily tasks, which brought him to think about his own work and compare himself to them. How were they able to do it day in and day out? He only dealt with the deceased. His biggest responsibility was bringing justice and closure to the families of the people who had, more often than not, had their lives brutally ended – but these nurses had people trusting them solely with their lives, people with heavy demands and needs. They had great burden forced upon them should anything happen to any of their patients. In Gil's eyes, they were spectacular and he had a tremendous amount of respect for them.

He could not stay focused on the nurses for long however, and soon his mind drifted back to Catherine. How was she doing? Was everything going smoothly? Would they call him in right away if something happened? His patience was wearing thin and his foot began tapping uncontrollably on the grey floor as he leaned his elbows forward onto his knees, hands tightly clasped.

'I need coffee,' he thought, the sudden crave for the caffeinated drink bringing him out of his reverie of Catherine. As he pulled himself heavily from the chair, he caught sight of Warrick's tall form passing through the revolving hospital door and altered his direction to meet him.

"Hey man, how's it goin'?" Warrick questioned Gil as he approached, concerned by the pale shade the older man's face had become.

"Hey War," Gil sighed. "I don't know, I haven't been told anything. Nobody has come to talk to me, just nothing in 2 hours. Something's up and they are keeping it from me, I know it, Warrick. Why would they do that? They said they would--"

"Whoa man, slow down," Warrick cut in, lightly grabbing hold of Gil's shoulder. "She is fine. If they haven't told you anything, then that must be a good thing, right? It means there is nothing wrong for you to be made aware of, yeah? You gotta stop getting paranoid and working yourself up over nothing. When Cath is done in there, she is going to need you and in the state you are getting yourself into, you won't be much help to her. Just chill out alright? I will get us coffee, you sit back down."

Not feeling the will to argue much further, Gil did as he was instructed and slowly lowered himself back into his seat. Looking wearily down the corridor that Catherine was wheeled through, the door he knew she was behind seemed to slip further away, growing smaller. He felt nauseous and wanted nothing more than to be notified on her condition and have the confidence that Warrick was right. He took a deep breath and rested his head back against the refreshingly cold hospital wall, mentally scolding himself for getting so agitated and impatient. He did not want Catherine to know how distressed he had become over the situation. She would delight in teasing him about it for longer than he cared to think about. Opening his eyes again, Gil found Warrick standing, coffee cup in either hand, looking at him.

"Here," said Warrick, handing a cup to Gil and settling himself in the seat next to him.

"Thank you," replied Gil, lowering his arm to the chair rest. "You were right, War," he continued with his eyes to the floor, "I know she is going to be fine. I guess I let my apprehension get the better of me. I have just never been in this situation before, you know? You don't know what to expect and things can go out of control so rapidly. I suppose that scares me a little. Fear of the unknown. It was probably wise not to let me in there, what use would I have been, huh?" Gil let out a small chuckle at the thought of him sitting by Catherine's bedside, holding her hand but in a more distressed state than her. Warrick also finding the image amusing, laughed slightly with his friend and agreed.