A/N: Well, here it is—the final part of "Red." I hope everyone has stuck around to read this. Many great, big 'thank you's' once again to all who have reviewed this fic. You really keep me going with your kind words, and I hope you feel it was worth your time and effort. I realize that this 'ending' isn't really an ending at all. As I was trying to bring this to a conclusion, I realized that I couldn't—at least I couldn't wrap it all up in a pretty little package without going on and on for a while longer. So I decided to leave it rather 'open.' But, never fear, I am working on the sequel, titled "On the Periphery." You've seen DaVinci13 mention it in a few of her reviews, if you read those! Right now, I'm too busy for my liking, so I haven't gotten very far in writing the sequel yet. I also seem to have lost some of my inspiration, but I have ideas and I will work on it, I promise. Anyway, thanks to my great friends and betas/deltas (whatever), Grissom and DaVinci13. You gals are the best! And thank you to all the loyal readers who have gone along on another of my twisty, turny, Grissom h/c angstfests! I couldn't do it without you! Enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for "On the Periphery"…

Chapter 11: Unanswered 'Why's?'

Sara knocked on Grissom's door, and waited impatiently. When he didn't answer right away, she knocked again. "Come on, Gris, we're gonna be late!"

The door swung open to reveal Grissom standing unsteadily and looking slightly out of breath. "What's the rush, Sara?" he asked, sounding a bit annoyed.

She just smiled and walked past him into the house. "You don't want to be late on your first day back at work, do you?"

"That's one of the perks of being the boss—I'm allowed to be late. Besides, I won't even be able to go out in the field until my doctor says so. I'm not in such a hurry to get there and be stuck in the lab behind a mound of paperwork."

"Oh, it won't be that bad," she said, trying to cheer him up. "You can process whatever evidence we bring in."

"Thanks."

"Well, it's better than paperwork."

"I guess," he replied quietly.

It was then that Sara really studied him, and noticed how exhausted he looked. She would have thought he'd be happier and more excited to return to the lab—even if was going to be 'chained to his desk' for a while. "Are you okay?" she pressed gently.

"Yes. Why?" His answer was a bit too abrupt.

"I don't know. You look kind of…tired."

"I didn't sleep that well," he began. "I mean, I'm not used to sleeping during the day yet. My internal clock has gotten all off schedule."

She continued sizing him up without offering a response.

"Hey, I thought you said we were running late," he said, trying to distract her. "Just let me get my things and we can go."

She watched him glide smoothly across the room to the coffee table, where he began gathering his briefcase and a bunch of papers. He really had gotten good on those crutches, she noticed, although he'd probably only need to use them for a couple more weeks.

He came back and stood next to her, and Sara accepted that she wasn't going to get any more information about his haggard appearance. So she gave up for now, even though she knew there was more to it, and they headed out the door.

Grissom's return to work started off pretty quietly. He and Sara entered the crime lab and went to his office to pick up the night's assignment slips. The few occupants that noticed his presence acknowledged it with a nod or a small wave. He tried to look nonchalant about the lack of fuss being made over his return, but Sara could tell he was a little disappointed. All that changed as they arrived at the break room.

They cleared the doorway and were greeted by almost the entire lab who all burst into applause. "Welcome back, Grissom!" was shouted by many voices simultaneously, and the sentiment was also spelled out on a large banner hanging on the cabinets. The graveyard shift members—past and present—plus Brass, Bobby, Hodges, and Archie rushed forward to offer hugs, handshakes, and pats on the back. "Welcome back, man," Warrick said.

"Yeah, glad you're back," Nick echoed.

"It wasn't the same without you, Gris," Greg chimed in.

As the crowd parted, Grissom noticed a large cake on the table. He smiled, remembering what he had once said: When I leave there won't be a cake in the break room. And although the confection was a 'welcome back' celebration, not a goodbye token, it was nice to know he had been missed.

"All right, all right," Grissom said, slightly embarrassed at all the attention. The room quieted down as he spoke, and the crowd waited for a speech or whatever he was going to do next. "I want to thank everybody for being here," he began, not quite sure what to say. "I…I wasn't really expecting all this, but…well, I'm glad to see you all and I'm very glad to be back."

Another round of applause and a few shouts filled the air. Then Grissom raised a hand for quiet once again. "Okay, now the cake and celebration are going to have to wait until later, because we all have work to do." He held up the case slips that were in his hand, and, among whiny sounds of disappointment, the room cleared out except for Sara, Greg, and Nick, who was being temporarily assigned to graveyard while Grissom was on desk duty.

Grissom handed out the assignments, and everyone got to work. Sara tried her best to stick close to him all night, just so she could see if he was getting back into the groove, and if he was okay after the scene at his house earlier. She had to leave for a couple of hours to go to a scene with Greg, but she was able to tag along with Grissom the rest of the time.

He was getting through the night, but he often seemed distracted. He'd be working on a piece of evidence, and he would stop and stare off at nothingness for several seconds before shaking his head and getting back to what he had been doing. A couple of times, he 'zoned out' for even longer, and Sara was getting more concerned as the hours wore on. Maybe it was too soon for him to come back, she worried. Or maybe a full shift was too much for his first night.

Sara got Grissom to take a meal break halfway through shift, but even as they ate, his mind seemed to be elsewhere. And he looked even more ragged than when she had picked him up. Sara just exhaled deeply, and promised herself she'd talk to him later.

As the sun rose over Las Vegas, and the official clock out time for the graveyard shift drew near, Grissom sat in the lab, a small piece of plastic on the table in front of him. It had come from Nick's crime scene, and Grissom had already examined it for blood and other residue. All he had left to do was fume it for prints. But his mind had become otherwise occupied again; he couldn't seem to control it tonight, and his frustration and impatience were growing. He didn't hear Nick come in and stand next to him, until the younger man put a hand on his shoulder. Grissom nearly jumped out of his seat, which only served to annoy him further.

"Whoa, sorry, Gris," Nick said, grinning. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you. That must be some piece of evidence. Did you find anything yet?"

"Uh…yeah," he replied, composing himself. "Positive for blood, positive for explosive residue. I just need to fume it to check on any prints."

"Great, then we can nail the guy," Nick began happily. "That'll make three solved cases in a single shift. I think that may be a new lab record. Quite a first night back, huh, Gris?" He patted his former boss's shoulder, and walked away.

"Yeah," Grissom responded, turning to look after the other CSI. But a shadow still crept over his mind—the specter that had been haunting him all night and for the last six weeks; it was the nagging mystery of the sniper, Everett Atkins. And all the unanswered 'why's' still pecked mercilessly at the edges of Grissom's mind, not letting up, and providing no further solutions. Why had Atkins shot me? Had I been a true target or just collateral damage? As he turned back to the evidence, trying desperately to focus as he prepped it for the fuming tank, he didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold things together.

Sara came in and watched him from the doorway as he shuttled the wheeled chair across the room. He still wore a small brace on his healing leg, but he was getting around pretty well. She saw him place a small item inside the box and turn on the fuming device. He turned away to wait, and caught sight of Sara by the door.

"Hey," she said, smiling to hide her intense study of him.

"Hey," he called back, his tone almost as forced as hers.

"Almost time to get out of here, huh?"

"I guess so," he replied. "I just have to wait for prints on this to give to Nick."

"Okay."

"So, are you all finished up?"

"Yeah," she said, coming into the room and leaning on the counter next to him. "It was the boyfriend. No big surprise there. And did you hear that Greg closed a case from last night, too? That will be three solves in one shift, if Nick's prints pan out." She indicated the fuming box.

"I know, I heard. A possible new lab record."

They exchanged small grins, and it was almost like things were back to normal for a moment. Almost.

The visible wisps from the super glue were dissipating, and Grissom opened the door and carefully removed the piece of plastic. There was a beautiful, clear thumb print right in the middle.

"Nice, Grissom," Sara commented. "It looks like you haven't lost your touch. Nick will appreciate your work."

"Thanks. Let me go give this to him, then grab some papers from my office, and we can leave."

"No rush. You want me to deliver that to Nick instead? It might be easier."

"I can do it," he insisted. "He's only across the hall."

She watched as he got to his feet and maneuvered on one crutch so he could hold the plastic in his free hand. After a few jerky movements, he eventually moved smoothly across the room and out the door.

"I'll meet you in your office in ten minutes," she called after him; he acknowledged her with a quick nod and continued to find Nick.

Sara caught up with him as he was arranging folders in his briefcase. There was just a handful of case files piled on his desk that she knew he needed to review. Catherine had done a good job of filling in for him while he was gone; she had even managed to clear out the huge backlog of older files that had been waiting for Grissom's signature. Sara didn't know how she had done it while also fulfilling her own responsibilities, but she was glad that Grissom hadn't had to come back to endless piles of paperwork. She thought he kind of needed to 'ease in' to the job again. Sara would have to remember to thank Catherine, in case Grissom forgot.

"Ready?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he replied absently, and she couldn't help but notice how distracted his still seemed.

They made their way down the hall, Grissom leading the way, and Sara kept staring at his back, wondering just what was bothering him so much. She didn't know if it was the Atkins mess, a case from tonight, or something else entirely. She frowned as a silent voice echoed through her head. It's his first night back in six weeks. Give him a chance to adjust, it said, trying to convince her. As she left the building with Grissom, she found herself hoping that the little voice was right, but she wasn't at all sure that it was…

Fade Out