Grissom awoke with a start, his eyes flying open frantically searching his surroundings. Seeing the plain walls of his recently painted bedroom, Grissom sucked in a steadying breath before blowing it out slowly. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed he sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through the sweat damp hair at his temples.
            It had been six days since Markus Bathory had been apprehended. Six days and seven nights and Grissom still had trouble sleeping. He had hoped that the knowledge that half his demons were dead and the other half were in jail would relieve him of his nightmares and yet there he was waiting for his heart rate to slow in the gauzy light of late morning. They could no longer physically harm him but they still tormented him mentally.
            The most disturbing nightmares Grissom suffered were of Kimmi, the frightened angel that had been the only light in his dark hell. The knowledge that he had not been able to save her as he had promised haunted him almost as much as the echoing explosion of the gunshot that had taken her life. Grissom could still recall the moment the light had left her eyes and he knew she was gone.
            He had worked with death half his life, first as a county coroner, then as a CSI. The jobs had forced Grissom to deal with some of the worst that humanity had to offer. That in and of itself could be a persons undoing but he always dealt with death after the fact. The victim had already passed. But to watch the life light leave, to see that energy disappear and know that it was gone forever was something Grissom had never had to bare witness to.
            Turning to look at the woman sleeping next him, Grissom pulled the blankets up and over her bare shoulder, resisting the urge to brush the brown locks of hair from her face. Sara was use to very little sleep but being with him the last few weeks had worn even her insomniac reserves out. Slipping on the clothes he had worn the night before, Grissom left Sara to her peaceful dreams.
            The crime scene clean up crew had done a remarkable job clearing away the debris left by Bathory’s crew during Grissom’s abduction. The floors and walls had been scrubbed clean with no visible evidence that the blood and carnage was ever present. The furniture had been unsalvageable but Sara had delighted in picking out a new couch and dining room set. But the greatest delight she had, and the one that still brought a smile to Grissom’s face, was when she had made him ‘try out’ a dozen showroom beds with her. Sara was overjoyed at the ability to be with Grissom openly and how more open could a couple be then trying out beds in public.
            Of all the things Grissom wanted in life, Sara’s happiness was at the top of that list. With barefeet Grissom made his way across the stone tiles on his way to the kitchen.  Grabbing his wallet from where it lay on the breakfast bar, Grissom pulled a white business card from one of the folds. Grissom fingered the card in contemplation before snatching up the cordless phone from its cradle and dialing the number.
            With only two rings Grissom was ready to hang up when a familiar voice answered.
            “Gerry Thoren,” came the doctor’s carefree greeting.
            Grissom hesitated, fighting the urge to simply hang up. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Grissom tried to bolster his courage. “Dr. Thoren,” he replied not sure what it was that he needed to say but knowing something had to be said.
            A moments pause had the man from the other end answering, “Gil, is that you?”
            Grissom ran his hand across his forehead as if by doing so would iron out the troubled frown. “Yes, I…I was wondering if I could meet with you,” he asked with a grimace.
            “How’s two o’clock for you?” Dr. Thoren asked without hesitation.
            Grissom looked at the clock on the microwave. “I’ll be there,” he informed the other man before hanging up.
            Sara found Grissom leaning against the breakfast by his elbows, toying with the coffee cup in front of him a half hour later. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her face into his warm, broad back and luxuriated in the feel of him in her arms. Grissom hugged her arms to his chest and she could feel the steady reassuring beat of his heart, undisputable proof that he was alive and safe.
            “Hey,” she greeted him, her voice thick from sleep but unmistakably happy.
            Grissom smiled crookedly pulling one of her hands up to his lips to kiss it. “Hi,” he softly responded.
            “Nightmares?” Sara asked hoping he was just well rested and that was why he had awoken early.
            Grissom nodded.
            Sara embraced him tightly before releasing him just enough so that she could turn him to face her. Reaching up to run her palms along the rough stubble of his cheeks, Sara searched his eyes, a warm, knowing smile on her face. “I love you,” she told him, holding his gaze.
            Grissom swallowed hard to control the overwhelming emotion he felt in that moment. He had loved her for so long but until recently he could not have fathomed the breadth and depth of his feelings for her but what was truly staggering to Grissom was Sara’s love for him. It was humbling and treasured but he considered it a definite possibility that he didn’t deserve it
            Grissom wanted to be deserving and he knew the first thing he needed to do was get himself whole again, for Sara. “Honey, I want to talk to you about something,” he said taking her hands from his face and pulling her over to the couch.
            Sitting down he pulled her across his lap before securing her warmly to his side. He wanted to hold her, reassure her, and maybe even reassure himself as he spoke out loud his nightmares, shared his fears and revealed his plans for the immediate future. Grissom had no fear of Sara leaving him. She had had plenty of opportunities and dozens of reasons to do so before but had stuck it out for love. No, his fear was hurting her. Grissom never wanted to be a source for her pain again and by going away he hoped he could do just that.