Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Character:
Language:
English
Collections:
Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-04
Words:
4,894
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
5
Hits:
937

Off

Summary:

Sara ends up in hospital.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

OFF

by Saryn

Summary: Sara ends up in hospital

Notes: this story continues after my previous one, "Growth" which can be read at http://www.grissomandsara.com

The events, which occurred in that story, still apply in this ficlet as well?

 

OFF
by Saryn

 

She awoke with a start. Bad dreams peppered by the sound of sirens.

*It's just an ambulance...*

Stretching against the headboard of her bed, Sara worked at the cricks in her neck for a moment before throwing back her duvet. She felt feverish, and jittery, and made her way to the kitchen to get some aspirin.

The wood floors of her apartment felt frigid, and she shivered. Grabbing some bottled water from the fridge, she felt chills go up her back as the kitchen was illuminated with the white, cold, sterile glow of the appliance.

The recent nightmares weren't helping, and goosebumps speckled her arms.

The area was momentarily cast in shadow, as the remaining warmth drained from her body.

With a painkiller in hand, she took a swig from her bottle, and felt her mouth pucker as the coating from the pill came off on her tongue.

Her back cramped, as she started to realize what the pain signified. Sighing loudly, she sauntered to the bathroom, and grabbed her hot water bottle.

She hated this aspect of being female. It cut into her life, and robbed of her concentration for 6 days every month. It wasn't even like she was ever going to have children. There was no reason for it?

Returning to bed, she settled in and placed the heat pad over her abdomen. Closing her eyes briefly, she almost swore when the alarm started blaring not five minutes later.

Grumbling, she reached to shut off the horrible noise.

It was 8:30 pm. Shift started in an hour and a half. 10 hours of crime scene investigation, and she was starting to feel very ill.

Just great.

Walking slowly down the hallway, she paused in front of the green painted door with frogs and lizards stenciled on the front. The sacrifices she had made for her niece, there was hardly a request that she denied the teen nowadays. A crayon and pencil door sign alerted her to the fact that this was "Alex's Bedroom". She grinned at the cutesy and flowery writing, and the stickers of frogs that coated everything.

Trance music blared, and she had to pound on the door with her fist before it opened.

A young girl of 15 ?, with mahogany hair greeted her.

"Hey Sara? Hoooverphonic too loud?"

The `aunt' had been dropped now, apparently.

Sara winced as a rack of pain filled her.

"Yeah, Alie, you are going to go deaf, you know that right?", with that, she smiled slightly to let her niece know that she really didn't mind. "Anyway, I have to get ready for work.do you need to use the washroom first? Ohh, I left you some money for pizza, or Chinese food, whatever, and some extra cash for a movie."

Alex took in her aunts appearance.

"You okay, Sara? You look like you are getting sick?"

Sara smiled. "Nah, just that bloody female junk we have to deal with every month, sorry about the bad pun."

The girl laughed, and, being decked in yellow pj's with lambs on the front, looked years younger for a moment.

"Well, I'm gonna do my homework now, and I don't need to use the bathroom, and, and I promise. No parties."

Sara grinned, pointed to the huge stuffed beanie baby that she had bought the teen, and shot back, "If I ever see one person walking around this place with a lamp shade on their head, Alie? froglet is MINE".

*****

Her hair was still damp when she entered the break-room. She had almost fallen asleep, or something, in the shower, and had to race just to make it on time.

She was uncharacteristically pale when she arrived. No one knew, but she had always been more sensitive then most?when it came to such issues. It had always been a taxing event for her, but today it seemed worse.

Usually, it wasn't quite so painful.

Sara glanced back at her watch. She had taken three extra strength caplets in two hours. She had, minimally, four more hours to go before she could take any more. She was in pain now, and wanted to go home and curl up in a ball and watch talk shows or soap operas. And she never wanted to watch soaps.

Depositing her water and painkillers into the break room cabinets, she turned quickly to see Nicky approaching.

"Hey Sara, didn't ya get Grissom's page? He wanted us all to go down to the LVPD for briefing?"

Sara stared to respond, when he interrupted.

"Man, Sara, you okay? Ya look a little white there?"

*How do I answer that?*

"Fever or something?" came her brief reply.

He looked incredibly concerned.

"Well, do you think you should be working a case? If your sick, then you should be at home", he reported, patiently.

"Nick. I'm not sick. Not really. Its nothing?"

He gave her a sweet smile, and she felt herself smiling back. Realizing that they would be out on the field, she backtracked to the counter to retrieve her water and medication.

Popping the drugs into her backpack, he quickly moved up to her, and grabbed the last bottle.

"Tylenol 3? Sara, this has codeine in it! Ya sure you're feeling okay?"

She sighed. "Stomach pain", was her reply. He was either going to get it, or he wasn't, but she didn't know what to say without him asking her more questions, and she was too tired to outright lie, and *remember* her lies?

"Stomach pain?", then it hit him. "Oh?", she could see him blush, and tried not to laugh at his expression, a mix of compassion and unease.

He looked flustered, like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how to proceed.

Sara wanted to hug him. *Geez, you get emotional during this time of the month, don't you Sidle?*

Her chuckle took him by surprise. "Nick, don't worry. I'll let you off the hook, just please, umm, if Grissom asks, ummm?" She stopped for a second and thought. "How pale do I look?"

"Like, Geisha-white?"

"Shoot, okay, quickly, help me come up with an excuse. I need you to cover for me just this once?"

"Sara?", his voice held a warning, "is this normal? I mean, for??"

She ignored his unvoiced question. "Okay, we'll say I had an allergic reaction to penicillin, and that I'm fit to work but still a little?"

Nick look shocked, and half laughed to dispel the tension.

"You can't be serious!!"

"Nick, c'mon, you know how Grissom is, he'll make a big deal out of it. He's not good when he's nervous, and he's not good with people, even me, in situations like this. He will ask me endless questions until I crack, and then, he will be embarrassed, and I'll be?"

He sighed and gave her a pointed look. "Fine, but if you get worse, I'm taking you home?".

She pocketed the bottle of Tylenol that he held out for her, almost teasingly, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Thanks Nicky".

He just stared after her as she walked out of the room, like she'd lost her mind. Sara? Calling him Nicky? Kissing him on the cheek??! Kissing him at all? And while in pain, no less??

He wasn't positive, but he had always though that most women got grouchier and sensitive when they had, well, he didn't even know what to call it?

But then again, this was Sara. She was different in every respect, apparently.

*******

Grissom was in a gruff mood. But all that changed when he saw Sara enter the briefing room. She looked like she had seen a ghost. Apparently, Catherine thought so too?

"Sara, sweetie? you okay? You look a little peaked there?"

Nick, ambling in after her, tried to help.

"She's fine. Allergies? hey Gris? what we got?"

In affirmation of this fact, Sara just nodded her head, and tried to scan the report laying near Grissom's hand.

Gil Grissom had a bulldogs stubbornness though, and Nick's `deflection' hadn't been a rousing success.

"Allergies, huh? Of what exactly?"

Sara scratched her forehead and Nicky sighed.

"Penicillin", came the resounding answer from the pair. Warrick looked up then. This has obviously been scripted.

"Riiiight", came Warrick's taunting reply? which caused Nick to become annoyed.

*Poor Sara, man, you can't even maintain your dignity in this environment!*

"Yes, War', even *I* have allergies to that dreadful stuff. you want to see my medical file, cause if you don't believe me, we could arrange a viewing!"

Wow. His protectiveness had seemingly come out of nowhere. Catherine intervened, while Grissom looked on with an unreadable expression.

Cath put a steady hand on Nick's shoulder. "Whoa, bud. Calm down. Gris, come on, what do we have? Before we have to collar Nick", she added with a laugh.

Grissom had been watching the exchange, and he looked somewhat anxious, and, almost, mad.

"We have a 419, and a 426, sorry Sara, I don't want you on that. skip it and work the 419 with Nick. Warrick?Cath?you are with me?"

He left quickly. But Catherine noticed that he had been clenching his fists ever since Warrick had made his smart-ass reply.

She inwardly groaned. Grissom was hard to read, and even harder to placate. She hoped she could figure out was wrong.

*****

Nick had gone to get his truck, while Sara wandered off to get a drink of water. She downed two more pills, and then sauntered over to the washroom.

Depositing two quarters into the vendor, she almost swore when the handle jammed.

"Stupid...friggin' machine! Aw?shit!" She pounded her hand against the white metal, and pulled back sharply when she cut her hand on the rim. Small drops of red rolled down her arm and blossomed over her sleeve?engulfing the rim with sanguine fluid.

"Christ!" What a day?At that moment, a toilet flushed, and the cubicle door two rows down from her swung open.

Catherine emerged with a small smile on her face ? hearing Sara's outburst.

She walked over to the sink, while Sara stood there uncomfortably holding her bloodied hand in one arm, while the gash dripped on the tiled floors.

Catherine noticed the injury. "Jesus Sara! C'mere?"

Sara stood where she was?

"Do you have?some bandages or something?", asked the brunette, her voice wavering.

Catherine took pity on the young woman standing before her. She looked as white as the floors, and was holding onto her hand so tightly it looked as if she was cutting off the blood flow.

Catherine then understood. She was in physical pain?and not just because she had an injured hand.

"Wash it well?here you go." Trying to alleviate the uncomfortable nature of the situation she handed over a large butterfly bandage from her purse, while Sara looked at her thoughtfully.

She quickly bandaged the cut, and then looked up tentatively?"You wouldn't happen to have a ??"

Catherine cut her to the chase, and handed over two tampons, her smile widening.

"Penicillin allergy, my ass?" Sara broke her stare, and laughed.

Catherine laughed herself, and started to exit. "Oh Sara? it makes sense to keep some stuff in a locker or something. There are only like three females in this entire building?and the guys around here aren't careful to stock up?"

Sara nodded in understanding.

At least Catherine had helped her avoid a potentially embarrassing situation. Well?a MORE embarrassing situation.

*******

Grissoms knuckles were as white as Sara's had been earlier, and Catherine grimaced.

Poor man. He was worried about her. He was also jealous of Nick, not like she would ever get him to cop to it?but she knew him well enough to know that this was the case.

She glanced over at Warrick, who was out like a light. Poor guy hadn't taken a break in two weeks.

Her thoughts returned to Grissom once again, as he leaned down on the horn as a yellow Saturn nearly broadsided them.

"Idiot teenagers!", he grumbled.

"Penny for your thoughts, Gil?"

He looked up at her bemused. "I was just thinking about how idiotic teens can be..."

Catherine sighed dramatically. "C'mon?R?E:?S..A?R?A?.", she spelled out in a gesture of humor.

Grissom didn't find the topic humorous, however. "First of all, she's lying to me, and secondly?whatever it is?she feels like she can tell Nick, but NOT me?that's almost worse than the lying?"

Catherine couldn't believe her ears. Did GRISSOM have a fever? His excuse sounded almost as lame as Sara's supposed `penicillin allergy'.

"Confiding about something personal?to Nick, is worse than lying?!", she shook her head, "what's wrong with her talking to Nick?" she added.

"She should be able to trust me?", he replied, almost automatically, in a sotto voice.

Catherine patted his shoulder supportively. "Trust me?the reason she DIDN'T tell you is because she cares way TOO much what you think?WAY too much, if I do say so myself?"

For the first time since they had gotten in the car, the speed had dropped below 80mph.

"You know what this is about? Great!!", he groaned. Catherine was slightly taken aback by how unlike him his replies and behavior had been all morning. He was TOO emotional now, whereas, normally, he wouldn't have been fazed.

He was also relentless. "What is it? What's going on? Is she really sick?"

"No. Its nothing. I shouldn't say anything outright?", at his look of annoyance, she added, "but I hate to see you squirm. Fine Gil?but you better keep your mouth shut?"

He was getting impatient.

"Catherine?", he growled.

"Ugh?you are stubborn. Fine?Sara has her period". She said the last part quietly, glancing over to make sure that Warrick was still asleep, but feeling badly. Sara hadn't wanted Grissom to know?of that she was sure. Nick probably had found out accidentally. Sara was not the type to just hand out that sort of information ? not even to another female, apparently.

Poor Sara. As private as she was, the entire night shift was putting the pieces together. If *Warrick* knew too?well?that would just be?

Catherine sighed, temporarily loosing her train of thought.

Grissom was still, obviously, thinking about Catherine's reply. He looked somewhat flustered.

"She's too pale, Cath?"

Catherine sighed. Sara WAS too pale. She wondered if the CSI in question was not actually coming down with the flu. She had seemed to be in pain, as well.

"Yeah?.I know Gris?"

******

Her hair was starting to curl. It naturally curled, and she hadn't given herself enough time that evening to blow dry it straight. Wrapping a loose tendril around her finger, she twisted until the blood flow was cut off and the finger went numb.

Pulling her hand away, she realized how quickly the blood had stopped pumping to that part of her hand. Her digit was still a little purple ? even 10 seconds later.

It probably wouldn't take that long to die. If you lost enough blood, if you bleed out, death could probably occur within a few minutes.

She shuddered, and felt shivers go up along her spine.

Nick took his eyes off the road for a minute and addressed the silent Sidle.

"You're not cold, are ya Sara?"

She looked up at him. Nicky was much more thoughtful than people gave him credit for, and in this heat, she realized that her shaking was out of place. The truth of the matter was?she did happen to be a little cold.

"Um, yeah, a little. I feel like I've consumed a pitcher of ice water", she added with a small smile, as a new set of shakes assaulted her. "Maybe I *AM* getting sick?"

He looked pensive, and added. "Your stomach?is it still sore?"

Her response was hesitant. "Um?ye-?yes."

Nick Stokes pulled off onto the shoulder of the road, while the other cars and vehicles on the Las Vegas freeway buzzed past them ? leaving the night sky temporarily branded with the glow of white and red vehicle head and rear lights.

The sun had set hours ago, but the sky was not pitch black. They had driven past the hectic center of the city, but the lights of the strip made the area around them a deep indigo.

Nick reached forward and flicked on the truck's passenger light. He took a good look at Sara, and let out a shaky breath.

"Sara?you are much paler now. Your lips are a little blue too", he frowned and took her hand gently into his. She started to pull back, as if on instinct, but he reassured her.

"Hold on a sec hun'?I just want to take your pulse", he drawled. He noted how cold and clammy her wrist was beneath his much warmer hand. It worried him. After a minute or two, he looked back at her with a firm and set expression.

"What is it at?Nick?", she asked, her voice sounding nervous.

He looked grim. "I'm taking ya to the hospital. Your pulse is at 49. That's way too slow?"

Amazingly, Sara didn't argue.

*********

Grissom got the page, and ambled back to the parked Tahoe. Here he was ? trying to collect evidence from a 426 ? as if that wasn't bad enough - when Nick's page had come in.

Addressed as: "IMP.CI" ? which, among the group translated to mean "important ? call back immediately".

He used the car phone, and got a static filled reply.

"Nick...where are you? What?! Why? Which hospital?.yeah?.no?.no I don't know that either?..shit?Sara knows better than that!?How bad? Okay?I'm going to sign out?hand off to Cath?yeah?no I don't know?how would we have known? Yeah?..I'll be there soon?.okay?bye".

He ran back to the taped crime scene border, and motioned for Catherine.

She took in his worried appearance. "What is it Gil?"

He looked angry. "Nick took Sara to the hospital?we don't know what is wrong yet?I'm handing off to you". He winced as he noticed Ecklie and his shift in the near distance.

"Sorry Cath?I know you hate dealing with him at the best of times. I'm?supposedly?listed as Sara's next of kin, so I need to get over there and fill out some forms".

At the female CSI's inquisitive look, he exhaled. "No?don't look at me like that. I didn't know either?but Sara told me once that she didn't really get along with her parents?I still had no idea I was listed as kin though?"

He gave a weak smile, glanced back at Conrad Ecklie, whose bitter voice was surely just as aggravating to his day shift CSI's, and added, "I'll be back when I can?"

Catherine nodded, her features not belying her concern, as Grissom left hurriedly.

*********

Grissom hated hospitals. Ever since he had been seven, and had fallen off a playground structure and had shattered his tibia. The horrible smell of antiseptic, and the perky nurses around every corner with a hypodermic for their bloodletting practices, or a cup to pee in.

That, of course, says nothing about the other indignities that patients have to go through such as the horrible, short, and scratchy hospital gowns, or the endless questions.

He entered the ER, and approached the desk almost cautiously.

A middle-aged woman, with red-rimmed eyes, grouchily acknowledged him.

"Hello. I'm inquiring about a young woman who was just brought in about 20 minutes ago. Name is Sara Sidle?dark brown hair, about 5 foot 9?", he was rambling. He rambled when he was nervous.

"Sir?you don't have to give me a physical description.", she glanced at her admission records.

"Sidle? Yes?she's in exam room 2-A. And you would be?"

Grissom sighed. "I'm her supervisor. I'm listed as next as kin?can I see her?"

"A Mr.?Grissom? Yes, um?you can go in?and then I'll need you to fill out a few forms?"

He sighed once more, and thanked the caffeine-deprived woman in front of him.

*******

She was still clad in her jeans and red shirt. He noticed that Nicky had leant her his A&M Texas sweatshirt, which she had draped around her shoulders ? as if she was cold. She was, he noticed, lightly shivering. The cuff of the red cotton sweater was rolled up, and elastic had been fitted around her upper arm.

A male nurse told her to squeeze her palm, and she did so in compliance. A needle ? a rather large needle, in Grissoms opinion ? was injected into her arm, and Sara looked away quickly.

With a soft knock at the door, he entered. She looked up guiltily?sickly. She looked like she was going to vomit.

"Hey boss?", Nick, who was sitting across from Sara in a padded chair - addressed him politely.

Grissom, however, was transfixed on the process before him. The blood gushed with ease into the vial. It was a startling colour. The nurse commented on this fact.

"Miss? Have you been eating enough? Have you been drinking enough water?"

Grissom intervened, referring to the blood. "What does it mean?" The blood looked black, not dark red or even purple.

Sara remained silent, either ignoring the nurse, or not hearing him.

The nurse, whose name Nick had humorously noted was ALSO Greg, addressed Grissom ? concern on his face apparent.

"Well, um?it could mean any number of things, really. It could mean that she is severely dehydrated, or that she is starved for food, or?it could signal anemia, or toxicity. We will have to wait for the results to come back to know for sure?"

He extracted the needle from Sara's arm, and re-swabbed the puncture with polysporn before bandaging it. Nick kindly added, "keep your arm flexed Sara?yeah, just like that?it'll keep the blood from pooling?reduces pain and bruising".

Sara obediently responded by pulling her arm up close to her chest. By this point, however, she looked green.

Greg then asked her to stand. "I'm going to just weigh you now?okay?" Sara appeared to react tentatively, but complied.Greg adjusted a scale, while Grissom took a seat besides Nick, who, upon sitting, gave the older man a grim smile.

"Her pulse was at 49 Gris?why would she let something like that go?", Nick whispered.

Grissom just shook his head, his features marred with fear and anger. Everyone knew that Sara took great liberties with her health, but he had decided that a heart to heart talk between the two of them was now warranted.

Greg's voice cut through his thoughts. "Yeah?you're underweight Miss Sidle." With that, he turned towards Grissom and Nick. "She's at 102?and she should be closer to 140", he added with concern.

Grissom and Nick's faces registered alarm, and Grissom's look became one of incredulity when Sara gave a response that looked suspiciously like a shrug.

The nurse exited the room, and Sara slumped back down onto the examining table. Nick was silent, but Grissom couldn't let the new found knowledge go? "What?are you not eating now Sara?", he asked slowly.

Sara sighed. "I'm not anorexic Grissom?", and set him with a stare.

He was becoming angered, and Nicky looked antsy, almost as if he wanted to leave the room. "Yeah... what about bulimia?! That would explain your dizziness and pallor!", he threw back.

His thoughts now filtered back to the recent case that the night shift had solved, of a model with bulimia. Sara had been, typically, compassionate when she had handled the case, but now his mind was struggling with the concept that Sara herself could have been in the same boat. Moreover, no one even knew.

"God damn it Grissom! I don't have an eating disorder!"

"Then why are you 40 pounds underweight?", he replied hastily. She looked anguished. "I don't know!! I just don't have much of an appetite lately?"

"So you AREN'T eating!"

She looked like she was near tears. "I'm not hungry?no?but I'm not deliberately avoiding food. I haven't felt very well lately?"

Nicky quietly excused himself, not wanting to cause Sara further stress. Grissom turned back to Sara once more, and noticed that she was fiddling with the seam along her jeans.

"Sara", he started slowly, "what is the doctor going to tell us? I'd rather here it from you first?"

She was getting aggravated. "How the hell should I know Grissom!! I don't know what's wrong myself!"

They heard the door reopen, and another man, the doctor ? presumably ?entered. He addressed Sara, civilly, but tiredly.

"Um?who are you, sir?", he added, upon seeing Grissom hunched nearby in a `borrowed' waiting room chair. Sara softly answered. "A friend. He can stay?" The doctor nodded slightly, and pulled out a form. "Okay?.Sidle?Sara Sidle?", to which Sara nodded, "I'm going to ask you some questions? then I want to run some exams, okay?"

He pulled out a form, and ran down the list. Sara became aware of the silence, and wanted him?someone?to speak, and dispel the tension caused by the quietness.

"Okay, Sara?you were brought in with a very slow pulse?low blood pressure. Any dizziness?"

She swallowed, "Some".

"Headaches? Nausea?"

"No to the headaches?but I have been feeling a little sick?"

"Stomach pain?"

"Yes?"

"Have you recently fainted?blacked out?"

She looked like she wanted to avoid the question. She was hedging, and Grissom closed his eyes.

*What was she thinking letting some medical problem go this long?*

"Umm?I felt?.off?strange?earlier. Tonight before work I really started to notice it. I think I fainted in the shower?"

The doctor nodded, thoughtful. "Were you tired? How about your sleep habits? Do you get enough sleep?"

Sara's eyes locked with Grissom's for a second. He could have easily answered that, and a wry smile started to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"No. I've not been getting very much sleep. I never get all that much sleep though...."

"What do you average Miss Sidle?"

Sara broke her stare with Grissom. "Umm?3 1/2?4 hours maybe?"

Grissom's smile vanished.

The doctor sighed. It rang out almost harshly, and Sara flinched.

"What about nightmares? Umm?recent depressive symptoms? Anything like that?"

Sara now had a very odd look on her face - a `deer caught in the headlights' expression. Grissom felt his heart begin to race. She was hiding something.

"Um?doctor?I don't believe the problem is my sleeping habits?"

The doctor ignored her, and proceeded to pull out a light. He shone the light into each eye. Satisfied with the results, he jotted something down on Sara's personnel file, and asked, "Okay?I want you to push against my hands?"

She was getting flustered. "Why are we doing a neuro exam?"

"Dizziness?nausea?with the absence of a headache, but accompanied by poor sleep. Fainting. Massive weight loss. I'm trying to rule certain things out?"

Grissom looked disturbed, and the doctor turned to him. "Mr. Grissom? You are her supervisor?have you noticed any recent moodiness? Temperament problems on the job, for example? Is she quick to anger or overly emotional, perhaps?"

Sara had had enough. "I'm in the room, damn it!"

Grissom looked at her, in shock. The doctor proceeded to write down yet another point, which he felt, was pertinent.

After her anger had subsided somewhat, she asked, through clenched teeth. "What about my blood test results?"

"We don't have those back yet?umm?I have to do my rounds. Check back with the ER. I'm going to ask you to stay here, and I want someone from psych to talk to you in a bit?"

Grissom started to rise, and the doctor turned once more to him. "Please make sure that she doesn't leave?"

*********

Grissom had decided to give Sara some space, and had retreated to the hospitals waiting room to find Nick resting on his haunches with his back turned to him. A little boy of about five, with sandy blond hair, and a savagely broken arm, was screaming in the next seat. His arm was swollen horribly, and Gris smiled easily when he saw Nick talking in a soothing tone to the young child.

"Aww man?don't cry. It'll be okay?hey look what I got here?see?look?? See?", lodged somewhere deep in the Texans pocket, he extricated some candy. He handed the little guy a tootsie roll.

"See?now you eat this, and look?oh wow man?we have?what's this?Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! This is a great show man!! You wanna watch it with??", at the little boys stare, Nick turned to see Grissom gawking at the pair.

Nicky quickly stood, and tried to save face.

Grissom moved up to him. "And where would you have seen the Mutant Teenage Turtles or whatever they are called?"

Some corny 80's cartoon theme song was now blasting over the speakers.

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Saryn.
If this work is yours and you would like to reclaim ownership, you can click on the Technical Support and Feedback link at the bottom fo the page.