Author's Notes: I just wanted to give you all a warning I'm trying something new . . . I'm not going to write Sophia or Grissom as the bad guy (imagine that). I know a lot of people hate Sophia, but it's kind of nice to have a new character to play with. I know most of my stories make Grissom out to be a cold, closed off jerk, but I'm going to try to write him like Grissom was portrayed in season 1 (I miss the sweet, caring, and slightly inept Grissom). Just be warned. Also be warned that I tend to lean towards NS and CW. I don't know if it will be friendships or something more. Hope you enjoy the update :) - Jac

Greg's POV:

The nurse handed me a few slips for different prescriptions. Sara sat silently in the wheelchair. They had put bandages on her neck. The doctor put a foam collar around her neck to restrain her movement until someone of the swelling could go down. The doctor must have known Sara wasn't listening to his warnings about taking it easy for a few days.

"I don't want to go home. He could be waiting for me . . . to finish me off," Sara said softly.

"That's okay because we have to take a cab back to the lab, so I can get my car and house keys," I replied as I pushed her wheelchair down the hallways. Sara cursed the moment the nurse told her she couldn't leave unless it was in a wheelchair. I was surprised that Sara was going quietly.

"Have you heard from anyone lately?" Sara replied.

"Not since Ecklie left," I replied. Ecklie had spent over an hour grilling Sara on exactly what happened, what was said, down to what the suspect smelled like. He had tried to be gentle, but Ecklie only succeeded in tiring Sara out. She had begun to emotionally shut down. "Are you going to be okay if we go back there?"

"Greg, you are worrying too much. I want to find out if Mia was able to get DNA out of my fingernail scrapings," Sara replied as I helped her into the waiting taxi. She gave me a smile that was forced and tense.

"If she didn't, I'll take a look at the sample," I replied as Sara rested her head against the window. I told the taxi driver where to drop us off. Sara and I were silent for the rest of the ride back to the lab. I could see her visibly tense up as we approached the crime lab. She looked at me worried when she saw two armed guards waiting for us at the door.

The officers asked Sara how she was doing as they opened the doors for her. Sara tried to smile at them, but all she could say was that she was lucky. The word lucky came out sounding bitter. I could only imagine that she was thinking that somehow Catherine managed to get much luckier than herself.

"Sara, how are you doing?" Warrick asked as I helped her navigate the hallway. Sara was much more tired than she would ever admit. She was unsteady in her gait. A few minutes ago, she had complained that she was starving and had 'a bad' headache. Warrick awkwardly hugged her. She hugged him the way she might hug an aunt or uncle she hadn't seen in years.

"I'm lucky," Sara replied tersely.

"I know," Warrick replied softly, "You should go home."

"I want to check in with Mia. I need to talk to Brass and Grissom about some time off," Sara replied.

"Griss is in trace with Nick and Sophia. Catherine is in the conference room with Brass," Warrick replied. I was thankful that he gave us the warning. I didn't want Sara to go off on Catherine for something that wasn't her fault. I knew Sara was mad at Catherine. Sara was mad at fate. If I was in her place, I probably would be too. I followed Sara to the trace lab. Grissom looked up shocked. Sophia, oddly enough, was the first person to greet Sara.

"Oh, Sara. I'm so sorry," Sophia said as she hugged Sara a little too tightly causing her to gasp, but Sara smiled at Sophia. Sophia proceeded to pull some of her hair out of the foam collar after commenting that 'that stupid device' was completely unnecessary. I could see the tears begin to trail down Sara's face. I think Sophia had finally won Sara's trust.

"Honey, why are you here?" Grissom asked as he held Sara for moments longer than he probably should have. It received a raised eyebrow from Sophia, who was obviously not done fussing over Sara. I stood back watching what looked like two parents trying to comfort their injured child. I clenched my jaw a little tighter to prevent myself from crying.

"I need my house keys. Greg needs his car, so he can get me home or somewhere else that might be safe," Sara rambled as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Grissom nodded and smiled.

"Brass is going to make sure that you are protected. I'm going to send a CSI with you too. You're going to be okay. I promise," Grissom replied as he helped Sara into a chair despite her obvious desire to get the hell out of dodge.

"This is nice and all . . . the smothering, but I want to go talk to Mia," Sara replied. It made Grissom turn red and Sophia chuckle.

"It's your DNA. I guess I scrapped you a little too hard," Nick said as he kneeled in front of Sara. She tried to lower her head to avoid his gaze, but began to curse again when she realized the foam wouldn't allow that.

"Epithelials from my neck?" Sara asked as her eyes glazed over . . . completely devoid of emotion.

"Mia is taking a nap right now. She's still got samples to run from your neck and from the Judge," Nick replied.

"What Judge?" I asked.

"Judge Winston was murdered this morning. We think it's the same guy that assaulted Sara," Grissom replied. Sara looked up with a terrified look on her face.

"I got some sleep while I was waiting for Sara. I'll go work the DNA lab," I replied. Grissom nodded. Sophia squeezed my arm and smiled. She said that she would order us both some lunch. She could probably hear my stomach growling from across the room. I began to thank God for level headed Sophia. She brought some balance to our team. She didn't come off as outwardly caring, but once she began to open up to us, Sophia took it upon herself to care for us. She would talk to me about cases. She would occasionally ask my opinion. Sophia always took the rape cases, so Sara wouldn't be confronted with their faces on an autopsy table.

"Thank you, Greg," Sara whispered.

I didn't know what else I could do to help her.