I do not own CSI; I do not own the characters


"I feel better already." Sara sighed, letting the small bite of chocolate covered ice cream slide down her throat. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pure bliss of whipped cream in her mouth.

Gil Grissom stood a moment, watching her intently as she sat on the couch, wrapped in a quilt his mother had made years before. Her face was covered in scratches; the bruising along her jaw had deepened considerably, nearly matching the marks along her neck. As she lifted the spoonful of ice cream to her mouth, he noticed that her hands were shaking.

Sara opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling slightly as she took another bite of the sundae he had made her. "How long do you think it'll be before I stop this?" She asked, holding up the spoon so he could see her trembling.

"Well…" He said slowly, "I am sure that as you gather your strength, it will go away." He bent and kissed her forehead softly before sitting next to her. "I'll bet that even by tomorrow, it will be better"

She sighed again, her eyes portraying a level of emotion that she refused to reveal, "I hope so." She took another bite of the ice cream. "This is soooo good, Gris. Amazing how good a bowl of ice cream can make you feel."

"That's pretty much the only thing you've eaten since we've been home," He reached out and began to gently stroke his fingers through her hair. "You should probably have something a little more solid."

"Oh, noooo.." She smiled. "Just give me ice cream." She carefully ate another mouthful, delighting in the flavor. "When I was a small girl, my mother would take me for ice cream whenever she and my dad had a fight. She always said that a good bowl of ice cream had the power to make everything bad go away." She glanced at him quickly. "She'd buy us both ice cream to make us feel better…it always worked" she shrugged slightly, "I guess it still does."

"My mother read poetry to me," He stated. "She said it calmed the soul."

"Your mother was a smart woman." She took another bite of the sundae, letting the flavors meld their way in her mouth.

They sat quietly, watching an old episode of the Twilight Zone. Sara was enamored with older horror flicks and science fiction and would generally become completely absorbed in them, jumping at scenes she'd seen time and time again. It was one of the things that he loved about her the most.

Gil continued playing with her hair absently, a habit he'd picked up as their relationship progressed. Sara loved the feeling it gave her; she felt soothed by the movement, and the simple message of love it sent wordlessly to her.

They had not talked about what had happened to her; no words had transpired about the terrifying ordeal. Sara had spent five full nights in the hospital, the first two being in ICU. When she hadn't responded to the rescue workers, had not opened her eyes as Gil knelt on the ground next to her, pleading her name, he had feared the worst.

She had been covered in a mixture of muddy sand and blood; her lungs had taken in sand and water as the rain pummeled the earth she laid on, weighing down the car that pinned her. She wasn't breathing when Gil had found her, falling to his knees in the mud, desperately grasping her hand, screaming her name.

Now as he sat next to her, running his fingers through her hair, he felt so many years older; his entire body felt weak, drained. He had nearly lost control when they found her; almost let his fear and rage dictate his actions. If it hadn't been for Catherine and Warrick, pulling him back, calming him down, he would have lost it completely.

He had always been able to control his emotions, handling every situation calmly and objectively; never letting his emotions interfere with his job. But, when Sara disappeared, he felt the pieces holding him together begin to crumble; his calm exterior ebbing away, like shed skin…and when he grabbed Natalie Davis to shake her out of her trance, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his composure much longer. Something snapped inside him when Sara was taken, and Gil Grissom knew he would never be the same.