A/N: Happy New Year! We hope you enjoy this chapter.

I don't own CSI. Some inspiration and dialogue come from episode 323, "Inside the Box."

October 2015

Coming home from his Thursday night class, Grissom finds a quiet house. He frowns slightly; usually, he comes home from class to find Sara and Anna in the midst of what they term "girls' night." He expects to see them baking or playing with Anna's toys.

He walks through the house until he hears the faint sounds of the television. He smiles, thinking that "girls' night" may have become "movie night." He walks into the TV room, where Sara is curled up on the couch.

"Hey," he says, leaning down to kiss her.

"Hey." Sara tips her head up for his kiss, but doesn't move. Anna is sleeping, stretched out across the couch with her head in Sara's lap.

Grissom smiles. "You wore her out, huh?" he asks in a hushed tone.

"I think she wore me out," Sara nearly whispers, chuckling. "I finally suggested the movie just to get her to stop for a few minutes. I guess she was tired; she fell asleep within fifteen minutes."

"Do you want me to take her –"

Sara's phone rings, cutting off Grissom's question. She grimaces, fearing the loud ringer will wake her sleeping daughter. She grabs the phone from the end table next to her, silencing it and sighing with relief when Anna does not stir.

"This is Sara. … Hi, Cath. … No, no problem. …"

Sara's voice fades away as Grissom stares at his sleeping child. Anna has not moved from her position curled up against Sara. She looks exactly as she did when he entered the room. She sighs in her sleep, and cold fear wraps around Grissom's heart.

What if …?

Sara snaps her phone closed and looks up at Grissom. "Catherine needs me at a scene," she says. "Can you …?" Her voice trails off as she takes in the expression on her husband's face. "Gil? What's wrong?"

"Sara," he said thickly, his eyes wide with fear, "we need to make an appointment to have Anna's hearing tested."

May 2003

If Doc Robbins' words of advice about the surgery had not been enough to convince Grissom of how advanced his condition was, his specialist's reaction to his phone call was. She cleared her schedule to get him into surgery that afternoon.

The speed with which everything was happening was a bit frightening, but, in many ways, it made it easier to deal with the surgery. Grissom didn't have time to panic or to talk himself out of it again. The only thing he had time to do was to find Catherine.

She was in the locker room, pulling on her jacket and grabbing her purse almost simultaneously. She looked up as he walked into the room.

"He's not returning any of my phone calls," she said, sounding oddly close to tears. "I just need to confront this Sam Braun business once and for all. I'll drive."

Grissom stared at her for a moment with his mouth open, trying to choose the right words. "I'm not going with you," he said at last.

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked, slamming her locker shut.

Grissom stepped farther into the room and shrugged slightly. "I'm scheduled for surgery at Desert Palm."

Catherine stared at him. "Surgery?"

Grissom gave a slight nod.

She walked closer, stopping right in front of him. "Your hearing?" she asked softly.

Grissom nodded. "Yep."

Catherine looked down then back up at him. "I'm sorry," she nearly whispered.

"I'm not," Grissom said. "It has to be done."

And, suddenly, he wasn't sorry. He thought of his mother, and all she had endured during her lifetime without her hearing. It was a miracle that he had been able to hear without problems for so many years, and an even greater miracle that surgery could take away all the problems he was experiencing now.

Catherine still looked almost horrified. "What can I do?" she asked.

"Nothing," Grissom said, surprised she had offered. "I'm fine." He shook his finger at her in mock sternness. "Take care of the case."

Catherine's mouth dropped open as he turned to leave. "Wh …?"

Grissom stopped in the doorway and turned to look at her again.

"That's it?"

"That's it," Grissom said. "Um … good luck."

He walked away before Catherine could call him back again. She stared after him in shock.

Finally, she chuckled. What had shocked her more – his nonchalant attitude, or the fact that she was shocked by it? After so many years of friendship with Grissom, it was likely the latter.

After leaving Catherine, Grissom went straight home. He packed up everything he thought he might need for the outpatient surgery, emailed his mother to let her know what he was doing, and left for the hospital. He knew he was leaving early, but he couldn't talk himself out of it.

With the decision made and the surgery scheduled, he suddenly didn't want to wait.

Catherine had considered Gil Grissom one of her best friends for the better part of a decade, and had worked with him even longer. After so much time spent so closely with him, she had learned many things about him.

One of them was that he wasn't nearly as private as he wanted everyone to believe.

Although Grissom was never one to willingly give up personal information – their earlier conversation was clear evidence of that – he generally left it out in the open for the observant to discover.

Armed with that knowledge, upon returning from her very emotional interview with Sam, Catherine went into his office. The lights were at their usual dim level, and paperwork was scattered across his desk. Catherine shook her head, knowing that she'd be the one to take care of it while he was recuperating.

She shifted a few papers, and found his open date book. As she had expected, his surgery was written in bold red letters. She looked at the surgeon's name and the time, then glanced at her watch. Smiling, she shouldered her purse again and left the lab.

Grissom sat patiently as the nurse took his blood pressure. She didn't tell him what it was, which meant it was likely fine.

"They're prepping the room now, Mr. Grissom," she said as she rolled up the blood pressure cuff. "I'll be right back."

Grissom watched her walk away, then turned his gaze to the floor. He sighed, wondering why he didn't feel nervous. Shouldn't he feel nervous before surgery? All he felt was relief.

The strangest part of all was that he wasn't relieved about having the surgery. No, he was relieved, days after the fact, that he had turned down Sara's dinner invitation. He was relieved that she wasn't there with him. That she didn't have to see him like this. That she didn't have to go through this. That she didn't feel obligated to stand by the side of an old man. He may have been selfish enough to let her get close to him, but at least he had been able to spare her that.

"Hey."

Grissom's head snapped up, almost fearing that the soft, feminine voice had been Sara's. But, no …

Relief flooded him again as he saw Catherine standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

She smiled and shrugged. "I just wanted to see you," she said. "And, I didn't want you to go in without wishing you good luck."

Grissom stared at her. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had done something so nice for him – had been such a good friend to him.

The nurse returned with a wheelchair; she stopped just behind Catherine. Grissom jumped off the table, and crossed to stand right in front of Catherine. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Thank you," he said. He nearly whispered, "For being here."

Catherine wrapped her arms around him in a friendly hug. Grissom returned it, wondering what it would have been like to have another woman sending him into surgery.

He released Catherine and gave her a half-smile. Then, he looked at the nurse and shook his head.

"I don't need that."

Catherine turned to watch him walk down the hall. To her credit, she waited until he had rounded the corner before she started laughing.

The man who could remember and recall entire works of literature at a moment's notice had apparently failed to remember that his hospital gown was open in the back.

The nurse shook her head. "Are you here with Mr. Grissom?" she asked.

Catherine nodded, bringing her laughter under control. "Yes."

"You'll be taking him home, then?"

"Yes," Catherine said without hesitation. She knew Grissom well enough to know that he had driven himself to the hospital, and that he likely thought he'd be able to drive himself home.

"Good," the nurse replied. "I can show you to the waiting area, if you'd like."

"That would be great."

Catherine had to wait several hours before Grissom was through with the surgery and ready to go home. He came into the waiting room with a look of complete confusion on his face.

"Hey," Catherine said, standing up to meet him. "The nurse said you needed a ride home."

"I drove here," he said, still frowning.

"Yes," Catherine agreed. "And, I'm driving you home. I'll bring you back for your car later."

"Cath, you really don't need to do that."

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes closed and he pitched slightly to the left. Catherine was at his side in an instant, easing herself under his arm to hold him upright.

"Dizzy?" she asked.

"A little."

She nodded. "The nurse told me you might be. That's one of the reasons I'm driving you home."

Powerless to fight her, Grissom nodded. He let her lead him to her car.

As soon as they stepped into his house, Grissom went to turn on his television. Catherine followed him, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Grissom smiled slightly.

"I'm going to leave it on for the next few days," he said. "I want to make sure I can hear it."

Catherine nodded. "Is there anything I can get you right now?"

Grissom shook his head. "You've already done more than enough."

She smiled and shrugged. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Grissom nodded.

"Now, your doctor told me you're cleared to take three weeks off."

Grissom grimaced. "I can go back in one."

"No, Gil," Catherine said firmly. "Take three. Goodness knows you've got the time saved, and we need you back at one hundred percent."

"Well …" Grissom smiled slightly. "I promise to take a week off. After that … I'll play it by ear."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "And, after a pun like that, I feel confident leaving you alone. You'll rest, right?"

"Yes, Mom."

She smiled. "Take care, okay?"

"I will. You take care of the team."

"You have nothing to worry about."

He smiled. "I know."

Catherine leaned in to hug him. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will. And, Catherine … thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

"So, what are you guys hoping for tonight?" Sara asked as she sat with Nick and Warrick in the break room, waiting for the start of their shift.

"Hmm," Warrick mused, tapping his pen on the table. "Double homicide. That should keep things interesting."

Nick groaned. "No way, man. I'm hoping for the criminals to take a night off."

Warrick chuckled. "Poor baby pulled a triple on his last shift."

"Hey, you had a day off in between," Sara said with a grin. "Stop your whining."

"This is so not the place to come for sympathy," Nick said, getting up to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"That's it," Warrick said. "Caffeine yourself up. Take it like a man."

"Hey, everyone," Catherine said, walking in with assignment slips in her hands. "Let's see where I can send you tonight."

Warrick, Nick and Sara looked at each other with identical frowns.

"Where's Grissom?" Warrick asked.

"He's going to be out for a couple weeks," Catherine said.

The color drained from Sara's face. "Is he …?"

"He's fine," Catherine said, her tone giving away her relief. "He just …"

"What happened, Cath?" Nick asked.

"I don't know, guys," she said. "You know Grissom. He's not one to –"

"Give it up, Cath," Warrick said. "We all respect Grissom's privacy. But, at this point, I think we're all pretty much convinced he was hit by a bus on his way in today and just barely survived. Just spill the truth."

Catherine sighed. "Okay, it's probably better that you know the truth instead of letting your imaginations run wild." She took a deep breath. "You may have noticed that Grissom's been having some trouble with his hearing recently."

Sara and the guys exchanged glances and immediately looked down. Sara wondered if they felt as terrible as she did. Yes, she had noticed it, but she hadn't given it much thought – obviously, not as much as it deserved.

"Well, he had surgery to correct the problem," Catherine said. "He was in and out in less than three hours yesterday, and he's at home right now, resting comfortably. It was a simple procedure, so he tells me, but he still needs to take it easy for a little while. I promised we'd hold down the fort for him." She smiled slightly. "We can always borrow a CSI from swing if we need to, but I'd really rather not admit that we can't handle it on our own, so …"

"We've got it, Cath," Nick said.

"Give us assignments, and we're on it," Warrick agreed.

Sara nodded her agreement, but remained silent. Her thoughts and emotions were swirling into a jumbled mess; she could barely keep up with herself.

Surgery. Grissom had surgery.

She knew she should feel sympathy. At the very least, compassion. Yet, somehow, all she felt was irritation.

Grissom had a condition that required surgery, and he hadn't thought to mention it to her. Not even in passing. Not even as a reason for not wanting to have dinner with her.

Hope sprang up within her. Maybe … maybe he had turned down her dinner invitation because of his condition. Maybe he had been afraid that she would see him differently if she had known …

God, Griss. If you only knew all that I'm hiding about myself …

"Sara? You with me?"

Sara shook her head slightly. "Sorry, Catherine. What did you say?"

"I said that you and Nick are going to Henderson for a double."

"Oh," Sara said. "Okay."

Nick grinned at her. She tried to return his smile, but failed.

The very sound of Catherine's voice was enough to remind her that she had known about Grissom's condition. She had known about his surgery. She had been able to provide them with an update on his condition. She knew that he was at home, and that he was resting comfortably. How did she know that? Had she been the one to fluff his pillows?

Sara knew that she was being unfair. But, somehow, that didn't make her any more eager to stop her angry thoughts about Catherine and about Grissom.

Yes, Catherine was his friend. But, Sara was his friend, too. Didn't she deserve the same courtesy he was so willing to show Catherine? Didn't she deserve to know how he was? That he was scheduled for surgery?

By the time she and Nick had made it to their SUV, she was more than willing to let him take the wheel. She was sure that the towering rage she had worked herself into wasn't the best emotional condition for driving.

Nick glanced at her as she walked to the passenger side of the car without a word.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Sure. Why?"

"You're letting me drive. Without a fight."

"Well, you'd better get behind the wheel before I change my mind."

Nick smiled slightly and climbed into the car. "Sara … you don't have to worry."

She turned to look at him. "Nick, you're a good driver. Why would I worry?"

"Not about that," he said, waving his hand as if to wave off her comment. "I mean, about Grissom. You heard Catherine. He's going to be fine."

Sara flushed, and turned to look out the front windshield. "I know."

"Good." Nick turned on the SUV, and pulled out of the parking space.

Sara released her breath in a quiet sigh. He's going to be fine.

Unfortunately, that did very little to dispel her anger.

October 2015

Sara looks at her husband blankly. "What?"

"Anna didn't even move when your phone rang," Grissom says, his eyes still wide.

"I know."

"Sara … a ringer that loud should wake her up. The only reason it wouldn't is that she can't hear it."

Sara stares at him. "She's fine," she says.

"You can't know that."

"Look, what I do know is that Catherine needs me," Sara said. "Can you pick her up?"

Grissom bends down to lift Anna off Sara's lap. He cuddles her against his chest; she shifts in her sleep to snuggle against him. "Sara –"

"Gil, I have to go to work. We can talk about this when I get home."

Sara leaves the room, and Grissom turns his attention to the little girl in his arms. He presses a kiss against the top of her head.

"Don't worry, sweet pea," he whispers. "I'll make sure you get the help you need."