All Standard Disclaimers Apply.

Thanks again to Giwu for betaing this fic for me. It is appreciated.

A/N: I am going to begin posting a sequel to my JAG novel story Can We Ever Get Back To Before beginning August 1. At that time I will be establishing a schedule for updates on my stories, updating once every week on the same day for each story. I am going to try to being weekly updates of Mountains every Wednesday evening. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Sara's cell phone rang for the fifth time in less than 5 minutes. The caller ID flashed HOME, but still Catherine ignored it. She didn't want to explain to Grissom why she was answering Sara's cell phone. It was bad enough someone was going to have to explain why they took Sara to the hospital. Finally, though her luck ran out and her cell phone rang. The ID flashed GRISSARA home.

"Willows," she answered.

"Catherine," Grissom began urgently. "What happened? Who's hurt? Is Sara still there?"

"Grissom, calm down," she said smoothly. "Sara got dizzy at the scene and fainted EMTs transported her but she's refusing treatment. She's fine. I'm going to have a uniform bring her home."

"You're letting her refuse…Catherine, I'll be there in ten minutes," he declared.

"Gil, don't," she argued. "It'll only upset her. She's just a little dehydrated."

"Something else is going on here, Catherine," Grissom insisted. "I…just…Make sure she gets home safely."

"I will," Catherine assured him. "Oh, Gil…She's having a rough time. Go easy on her."

Catherine broke the connection before he could press her further on the issue. Grissom was left alone with his thoughts, "What's wrong with your Mama?" he asked his faithful boxer, patting his head.

Bruno made a small noise and walked over to his nearly empty food bowl. He sat down, looked at Grissom, and barked. Out of habit Grissom moved to the bag of dog food and fed his pet. "Food," he said to himself. "Sara hasn't eaten today."

After a quick side trip to the bathroom Grissom made his way to the kitchen. Bending from his knees he went through the contents of the refrigerator eventually unearthing an assortment of berries, half an apple, and a rotten plum. He discarded the spoiled fruit, set the apple aside for himself and used the berries to make Sara a fruit salad. After grabbing another plate and scooping a dollop of peanut butter on it, he scribbled a note and placed it next to the fruit plate. It simply said:

Sara,

I know you didn't eat today. I'm not at all happy about that, you need your strength. You eat this and then we'll talk. I love you.

Gil

Grissom took his snack and drink returned to their bedroom. He knew Sara would likely be upset he'd gotten out of bed but he could not just lie around and fail to provide for his wife when he knew her collapse at the crime scene was due to her worry for him and the time she had spent fussing over him. He wasn't always sure he was a very good husband. He knew he was standoffish, quiet, even to the point of cruelty at times. One thing he did know was that good husbands and good wives took care of each other. Sara was hurting, stuck somewhere lonely and dark. He didn't know where she was nor how she got there, all he knew was he had to do anything and everything to help her. If all he could do until she was ready to talk was make her a bowl of mixed berried, then at least it was something.

He settled himself in the bed and focused on eating his snack and petting Bruno. He was just beginning to relax and drift back to sleep when he heard the front door open. Bruno was off the bed quickly, running with his tail wagging to greet Sara. Grissom could hear her talk to the dog, close the door behind her when she left to walk him, and close the door once again when she returned ten minutes later. He listened closely to the familiar sounds of Sara's-arriving-home from-work-ritual. He knew she would pass the kitchen table and in doing so see the fruit plate he had made for her. He expected to hear a chair scrape the floor as she sat down, what he actually heard was very different.

If he didn't know better he'd swear by the sounds Sara was making she was choking. He had heard this particular sound so often in his career, he could easily tell the difference between choking and vomiting. Cautiously he slid out of bed and hurried to the kitchen. Sara was standing against the sink, pale, sweaty, and shaky vomiting bile and clear liquid into the basin.

"Sara," Grissom said gently, so he didn't startle her. She turned to look at him, tears dripping down her cheeks, crying out for support and he gladly complied moving to stand beside her securing her weight with his arms until the spasms subsided.

Sara was thankful for Grissom's strength and used it greedily as he led her to the sofa and helped her sit. He flinched as he sat next to her. She tried to rise and escape the confrontation she knew was about to come but was stopped by her husband's arm settling around her shoulders. He held her loosely, so she could get up if she wanted to but instead she leaned against him, tired and scared.

Gently he kissed her forehead. "I'm worried about you, Sara," he said softly.

She nodded, "You talked to Catherine? What did she say?"

"She told me you fainted at the crime scene," he replied. "I know that it's my fault. I didn't realize you hadn't eaten."

"You are my husband, Gil," she sighed. "Not my mother. I wasn't hungry."

"You may not feel hungry, but your body clearly is," he pointed out.

"I saw the fruit plate you made for me," she began, practically whispering. "It was very sweet." Her voice quivered a bit before she started to cry, not as hard as she did in their bedroom earlier, but this latest bout of tears was enough to alarm Grissom even more than earlier.

"Is that…Sara, I need to know what's going on with you," Grissom told her gently. "When I was on my way to the hospital after the fall last night, I honestly was not sure if you'd be at the hospital when I got there, you had been so distant, like you couldn't stand to be near me. And now, not that I'm complaining, you are clingy and emotional, you are fainting at crime scenes…I'm confused, concerned and worried."

"Could I ever make you mad, Gil?" Sara asked in a flat emotionless voice as if she had never heard his statement.

"We all have the ability to make someone else angry," Grissom reasoned. "Sure, you have made me mad in the past, and you'll probably do so again. Why? Where is this coming from?"

"There are so many cases where…Remember Kay Shelton?" she asked.

"She was a battered wife whose husband dumped her in the desert. We had to date her death back with an entomological time line. Why?" Grissom asked absently rubbing Sara's arm to soothe the pain he felt radiating from her body.

"Could I ever make you that mad?" she asked innocently, her watery eyes hugs as she met his probing gaze.

Maintaining his gentle hold Grissom shifted to make sure he held Sara's eyes firmly. "Sara, that…I know…" His words were failing him as they so often did when it came to his wife. "God, Sara. This has to stop, honey. It has to stop. You have me so afraid for you…"

She started to look for an escape. She had angered him. Grissom saw the fear flash across his wife's face, fear of him. He wanted to tighten his grip to make sure she stayed next to him, but fought the urge as not to upset her further. "I'm scared something has you so upset and…You need to tell me where you are and what is going on in your head." He regretfully pulled his arm from around her shoulder. "I need for you to let me in and tell me so I can help you or comfort you or give you space, but I won't know what to do until you tell me what's hurting you so much."

He must have played it right because she took his hands in her own, playing with his gold wedding band. "My case…Our suspected signature vic wasn't that at all," she confessed. "She was copycatted. Her breast was amputated post mortem and the COD was blunt force trauma from where her husband smashed her head against a stucco wall during an argument. I guess he panicked and tried to cover it up, so he set the scene to look like the crime scenes that have hit the news." She swallowed hard and shuddered slightly, squeezing his hand before continuing. "He loved his wife. He was so distraught by what he had done; I believe he honestly cared for her. We see it so many times Gil. So many people who one day honestly love each other and the next day…It's scary."

He nodded and rubbed a soothing thumb over her knuckles, "It is said there is a fine line between love and hate. Those two emotions are the strongest anyone can feel. I think to love passionately you have to be capable of hating passionately." He was sure to keep his voice level and to maintain eye contact so he didn't scare her. "But I don't believe you can have both feelings for the same person. I love you so much, Sara. I'd never hurt you…I…"

Sara knew that deep down Grissom would not hurt her, but she was so upset from being pregnant, his accident, and her case that she needed assurance like a child needs comfort from a parent after a nightmare. "Promise?" she asked staring at their clasped hands.

Grissom drew in a breath then reached to pull her to him, holding her tightly against his body ignoring the protest from his ribs in favor of offering her physical security. He wished that she could feel his love for her through his arms. "I do, honey. I promise you there is nothing you could ever do or say that would justify me hurting you. I wouldn't even try. I…I thought you knew that"

His voice caught as his heart ached with pain for her. "When you hurt, so do I, honey, and we are both in agony now, but soon, it will be okay. I promise."

Grissom held her a moment longer before releasing her, "I love you too, Gil," she replied. "That's why I'm so…I want to tell you why, but…"

He put a gentle finger to her lips, "No more talking for now. You need to eat and we both need some rest and relaxation. What would like for a snack?"

"I can fix myself something. You are supposed to be on bed rest," she reminded him.

"True, but I didn't pass out or throw up in the kitchen sink. I'll make us some sandwiches and then I have a little surprise for you," he told her.

Sara knew she'd lose if she argued so she agreed, "I'm going to change and get comfortable," she told him, kissing his cheek before heading to their room.