Fear.

Gil Grissom has been afraid before. He's faced a gun, and kept calm and quiet as he went cold inside. He's faced fear of losing his carefully prepared case, and kept his rising anger under restraint. He was afraid of going deaf, of losing one of his precious, well-tuned, highly vital senses, but kept it secret and buried as deep as a corpse. He always keeps things hidden. Even his dismay and sorrow when he realised that he'd pushed Sara so far away that it was Catherine who first got beyond his barriers and realised his hearing loss.

Yes, he thinks he knows fear. He can control it.

But one phone call teaches him the true meaning of fear. He hears the words 'Sara Sidle' and 'incident' and all his defences crumble in a microsecond. His voice shakes, his hand grabs his glasses, a symbolic ripping away of his barriers, he leans forward, eager to move, to do something, and for the first time since he was ten, he's not analysing his reactions, the pulse racing far beyond normal, the temperature of the cold sweat breaking out on his brow.

For a second, Grissom thought Sara was dead. His Sara, gone beyond his reach.

For one lifetime-long second, Gil Grissom knew fear.


Joy

She's OK. She's fine. Shaking and pale and ashamed, but alive and unhurt. She could be in trouble, but he'll save her. Not just tonight. He's pushed her away, tried to ignore the light in her eyes, the words on her lips. But he'd ignored himself too. He'd prided himself on knowing himself so well, but he hadn't been aware of the love in his eyes, the passion in his touch on Sara's skin.

But in one moment fear had taken away all that ignorance. Opened up his eyes. He wants her love. He needs her. And he'll claim her, if he can. Smile at her again. Coax her back to his side. Give her the gentleness he'd taken away, praise his star pupil again. She's alive and here, and he can start again. Take her home.

Can't he? He reaches out, wrapping his hand around hers, but this is a moment of doubt.

But then her fingers intertwine with his and he feels her thumb stroke his hand, and he realises that he has just managed to come back to her in time. She hasn't quite slipped beyond him yet.

And now when he looks at Sara, he won't feel restraint, or discomfort, or afraid of the feelings inside him.

Now when he looks at Sara, he'll feel only joy.