A/N: Alright, thanks to all those who have reviewed so far. Glad to know that you're liking the story.

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Sara practically ran through the halls of the hospital. She had heard the desperation in Grissom's voice, and knew that he must really be feeling down if he were willing to admit that he needed her.

Her thoughts had been a jumbled mess since she'd spoken to him. You don't understand how much I need you here with me now. These words echoed in her mind as she drove, and still held fast when she stepped into the hospital. She was trying to figure out just what he'd meant by those words. Did it mean that he needed her, or that he just wanted someone present? She could only hope…

She made her way to his room, knowing the way by heart. She pushed open the door slowly, not wanting to startle him. He lay on his bed, papers strewn about him on the blanket. His eyes were closed, and it seemed as though he had fallen asleep.

"Grissom?" Sara said softly, not wanting to rob him of the sleep he so desperately needed. He didn't move. She moved to the other side of the bed, gently reaching down to pull his glasses from his face. But as soon as her hands touched the glasses, his eyes opened.

"Sara?" he asked, though he knew perfectly well who it was.

She smiled, taking her hands away and sinking down into a chair. "Yeah, Gris. I told you I'd be here."

He smiled, reaching a hand out to grasp hers. "I'm glad." For a moment, he simply stared at their entwined hands. Then he sighed. "Sad that it had to come to this…"

Sara tilted her head to the side, confused at his comment. "What do you mean?"

He gave her a sad smile. "Sad that it had to take something like this to happen for…something to happen." He squinted at her, unsure if he had made any sense at all. He sighed, then shifted where he lay, trying to get a better fix on her face. "Sometimes in life, we're faced with incidents that reveal our mortality to us; when we find out just how fragile our hold on life really is.

"And…you really do see your life flash before you eyes. And you see your fears, and what could have been, if not for those fears." He looked up at her, capturing her gaze. "And you begin to regret not doing some things." He squeezed her hand. "And I…I regret not doing many things. Most regarding you."

Sara gave him a smile. "Dinner?"

He smirked. "Much more than that." He took a deep breath. "I regret…watching you from a distance, yet unable to say what I was thinking to your face. I regret pushing you away when my heart said go forward. I regret making you think I didn't care. And I regret ever hurting you," he finished softly, now unable to look into her eyes, fearing what he may see.

She stared at him for a moment, realizing that he had laid his heart out in front of her, something he deeply feared. The rest was up to her. She swallowed a lump in her throat, trying to figure out what to say. She couldn't say that he never had hurt her; that was a lie and he was certain to catch it. "Grissom," she said softly, reaching out a hand to tilt his face toward her, forcing him to look into her eyes. "That's behind us now. Forget it."

He gave her a sad smile. "Nothing is forgotten, only left behind."

"Shakespeare?" she asked with a grin.

"No. Robbie Robertson."

She continued to smile, running a hand through his hair gently. "Well, then let's leave it behind us. You get a fresh start."

Grissom shook his head and started to sit up, wincing as he stretched the muscles in his abdomen. He leaned toward Sara, putting a hand on the side of her face. "We can't do that. There's too much at risk. We could both lose our jobs." He gently ran his finger over her cheek, his face contorting as if in pain. "And I don't want to hurt you again." Because if I do, there would be no way I could forgive myself.

Sara lifted her hand, covering Grissom's. "Will you regret this, too? Not giving us a real chance?" She squeezed his hand. "I know I would."

He swallowed. "I would. Very much so." He glanced at the door briefly, more to gather his thoughts than to see if someone was there. "Could we? Chance it, I mean."

Sara smiled. "I think being discreet has already gone out of the window, Grissom. In case you haven't noticed, I've been here every day since you were shot, even when you weren't conscious. I'm sure Mobley has already noticed that something was up."

He gave her a tilted-head grin, one she had missed so much. "Sara, I think there is a difference between dating someone and sitting by their deathbed."

"This isn't your deathbed, Grissom. Besides, I don't think it would matter to them that much. I mean, you're responsible for the lab being number two in the country, almost single-handedly. They can't afford to fire you over something like this."

"They could always fire you or transfer you."

"And I doubt they would try that." She scooted a little closer to him, putting her face near his. "They don't want to do anything that would upset you. Besides, we work too well together. They don't want to risk…throwing you off-balance."

Grissom opened his mouth to speak, but froze, closing his mouth with a smile. "I can see that there's no point in arguing with you. You seem to have an answer for everything."

Sara returned his smile. "I've had a while to think about it."

"Obviously."

She laughed. "Yeah. Four years at least." Just then, Sara's beeper went off, and she snatched it from her belt. She peered at the display, then groaned. "Ecklie. Says he wants to ask me some questions."

She felt Grissom's hand grasp her, and she turned back to him, seeing a bit of fear in his eyes. "You have the truth, Sara. That's all you need."

She nodded. "Yeah, evidence."

"The evidence will show that you didn't do this." He stared at her for a moment, then his eyes widened, and his grip on her hand tightened. "Sara! I forgot. I've remembered something from that night."

Sara's own eyes widened slightly. "What?"

"There were two of them. Two people in my house. One was a woman, the other was a man."

"Gris, are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah, right before they shot me in the back." He frowned, his own words sinking in. He looked up at Sara with a confused expression, and she gave him one in return.

"Gris, you weren't shot in the back. There was no exit wound or entrance wound. They shot you here," she said, placing a hand gently on his abdomen, aware that it was still very painful. Then she smiled. "Even you, the great Gil Grissom, are not a perfect eyewitness."

He shook his head. "I suppose not" he said, idly placing his own hand on the bandages.

She put a hand on the side of his face. "I'll tell them what you said. Though, coming from me, it might sound like a tale. To Ecklie, at least." She kissed his cheek quickly, then went to the door, startling a nurse who had been reaching for the handle.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sara said, stepping aside to allow the woman to enter.

"It's alright," she said quietly, quickly slipping past Sara. Sara nodded to her, then headed out of the door, intent on giving Ecklie a piece of her mind when she got back to HQ. She rushed as fast as she could through the hospital without running, then burst out into a run when she reached the garage. She reached her Tahoe, then felt around in her pockets for the keys.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, her search being futile. She double-checked every pocket, then sighed. She had to have left them up in Grissom's room. She glanced at her watch, knowing Ecklie would page her again soon, getting more and more irritated by the minute. And the more irritated Ecklie was, the more irritating he would be. And it took everything she had sometimes to deal with Ecklie in a good mood, much less when he was accusing her of attempted murder.

Sighing, Sara turned and made her way back up to the hospital. She paced back and forth in the elevator as it rose to Grissom's floor, making the young couple sharing it with her very nervous. They practically sprinted off when their floor came.

Finally, the elevator stopped at Grissom's floor. Sara stepped out, noticing that there was a sudden buzz of urgency that had not been there moments before. Doctors and nurses were shouting at one another, asking for different sorts of medical devices.

It wasn't until she saw a young doctor carrying a kit rush into Grissom's room did her heart begin to sink. She picked up her pace, running to the door. Doctors and nurses were buzzing around Grissom, desperation masking their faces.

Sara's hands flew to her mouth, and she tried to rush to Grissom's side, unable to comprehend what was happening. The young doctor stepped forward, grasping her arms to stop her.

"Grissom!" she shouted. "Grissom! What's happened?" she shouted at the doctors, struggling to break free of the young man's hold. She caught a glimpse of Grissom's face through the wall of bodies. They had reinstated an oxygen tube, but his face was still an ashen grey, frightening Sara to her very core. It was almost as if she had found him again, bleeding out on his floor…

"Ma'am," he was saying, though she barely heard him. "You can't go in there. They're working on it. You'll have to calm down. Ma'am-"

Everything went black.

A/N: Whew! Ok, everybody take a deep breath, and press the little 'Go' button.