A/N: Bit of a cliffie last time, sorry. But honestly, the anticipation is killing me...how will she take it? What will happen? Oh, wait, you're going to find out in two seconds when you read the chapter! Silly me. Don't ask, I'm in a strange mood...Usual disclaimer. Jerry Bruckheimer owns the lot of 'em, much to my eternal dismay...but anyways...

Chapter 27- If I Only Had the Words (To Tell You)

"If I only had the words to tell you
If you only had the time to understand
But I only have these arms to hold you
And it's all that you can ask of any man"

If I Only Had the Words (To Tell You) by Billy Joel

Greg pulled the door open and let Sara in. Her eyes narrowed in surprise and suspicion as she took in Greg's naked torso. "Greg, are you ok?" she repeated.

He gave her a tight smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." He leaned in and pecked her on the cheek. "Can we talk?" he asked as she walked past him into the apartment.

"Um, sure," she said, clearly worried. Greg followed her into the kitchen. She stopped when she saw the glass and the knife. "Greg, what the hell is going on?"

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and then walked past her to the table, where he took the glass and downed the clear amber liquid.

Sara gasped when she saw his back, which was turned towards her while he drank. "Oh my God, Greg, what happened to your back?" she whispered, stepping forward and gently touching the wounds with the tip of her pointer finger. When he didn't answer, she took a step back. "Greg, what the fuck is going on?"

A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he turned slowly and raised his eyes to her. As soon as she saw his face, saw his eyes, she knew, and she stepped backwards once more in shock. "No! No, Greg, tell me you didn't. Tell me you didn't do that to yourself!" she cried, eyes wide and tears beginning to glisten like diamonds.

"Sara—" he started, but she cut him off.

"No, don't you 'Sara' me. Tell me you didn't do that. Tell me that you did not take a knife, or a razor, or whatever and slice your back open. Tell me!"

"I can't," he whispered, dropping his eyes. "It would be a lie if I told you that." He paused, then said quietly, "Sara, I didn't want you to find out this way."

"Did you even want me to find out at all?" she asked, deadly calm. When he didn't say anything, she opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it, turned on her heel, and walked out of the kitchen.

"Sara!" called Greg as he ran after her. "Sara!" She sat on his couch, head buried in her hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "Oh, Sara," he sighed, going to her and putting his arms around her. "Sara, sweetie, it's not your fault. I promise you that. Please don't blame yourself."

She lifted her head and just looked at him. "Why? Why would you do that? Why?"

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Have you ever felt powerless?" he asked, stroking her hair gently.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, pushing his hand away and sitting up.

"No, I mean, have you ever felt so completely powerless that you feel the need to take control anyplace that you can get it?" Sara didn't say anything. "Well, that's how I felt. That's how I feel. I need that control. I needed it to breathe, to live."

"Greg, I refuse to believe that you're some sort of power-tripping control freak, because you're not! You have never been and you will never be."

He just shook his head slowly. "Sara, I never wanted supreme power. I just wanted control over one miniscule part of my life."

They were silent for a few minutes, and then Greg said quietly, "Look, I realize that my explanation doesn't even begin to explain anything, but I love you, and I won't hold anything you do or say against you."

She took his hand. "Greg, I love you. I love this, I love us, and nothing you or anyone else can do will ever take that away from me. But if you want this to work, if you want us to work, then you have to promise me that you'll be honest with me."

Greg looked her straight in the eye. "I promise."

She stood and kissed him on top of his head. She walked toward the kitchen to get them some drinks, then stopped and turned around. "Oh, and Greg, just so you know, I have felt that powerless six times in my life. First was when my mom stabbed my dad. Second was after the explosion. The third was after you were kidnapped. Fourth was when you tried to commit suicide. Fifth was when you told me that you had AIDS."

"And the sixth?" asked Greg quietly, brown eyes watching her.

"The sixth was tonight."

Sara and Greg sipped their beers in silence. Occasionally, Greg would toss a glance at Sara, and begin to say something, but every time he seemed to think better of it. Instead taking a long pull of his beer.

Finally, Sara noticed. She set her beer down and sighed. "Greg, is there something else you need to tell me?" she asked.

He gulped and ducked his head. "I need another beer," he muttered, getting off the couch and heading to the kitchen.

She stood and followed him. "Greg, what is it? Please tell me."

He bent to get a beer out of the fridge, then straightened slowly. "I…I'm seeing a therapist. A psychiatrist, actually. She's prescribed some anti-depressants to me."

She wasn't sure what he wanted her to say. "That's good," she said tentatively, warily watching Greg as he brushed past her to go back to the living room. "Isn't it?" she asked, following him.

He shrugged morosely before throwing himself on the couch. Sara sat down next to him. "Greg, there's nothing wrong with seeing a therapist. Nor is there anything wrong with being on anti-depressants."

"I know."

"Then why are you upset about this?"

Greg couldn't meet her eyes as a single tear trailed its way down his cheek.

She put her arms around him concernedly. "Greg, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"I'm ashamed, ok?" he burst out.

"But there's nothing to be ashamed of!" protested Sara.

"I'm ashamed of being this weak. I'm ashamed that I can't do this on my own. And, more than anything, I'm afraid that you'll be ashamed of me too."

Sara took both his hands in his. "Greg, I will never be ashamed of you. I'm proud of you because you got help. You're not weak, and no one, no one can go through what you're going through alone." She paused, then said, "Besides, you can't be ashamed of not being able to do this on your own, because you will never be doing this on your own, because I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I know, I'm just…I'm just terrified that I'll lose you. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and even in the midst of all this shit, you're…you're like a beam of light, cutting through the dark, or something like that." He grinned. "And that sounded really lame, didn't it?"

Sara smiled too, but it was sadder. "No, it wasn't lame, it was sweet." She took a deep breath. "And Greg, you're not the only one who's afraid of losing someone." She took another shaky breath, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. "Greg, I am so scared."

He took her in his arms. "What are you scared of?"

"Everything. Oh, God, everything. I'm scared of losing you, I'm scared of what's going to happen to you, I'm scared of you dying. I'm…I'm scared of living without you."

She was really crying now, as all of her fears and worries spilled out. "I don't want you to die," she sobbed, clinging to him like a life preserver. "And I know you're going to, but I'm so scared…I'm so scared…" She wept into his shirt, resting her head against his chest. He just held her tighter to him, rocking he gently as his tears dripped softly on to the top of her head.

After a few minutes, she leaned back and sniffled. "We're kinda pathetic, aren't we?" she asked jokingly as she wiped her eyes.

Greg leaned over and kissed her gently. "Yeah, we are, but at least we're pathetic together." He stood up and offered her his hand. "Come on, let's go to bed."

She took his hand and he gently pulled her up, wrapping one arm protectively around her waist. She rested her head against his shoulder. "Thank you for being honest with me," she said, looking up at him.

He smiled down at her. "Thank you for being honest with me," he whispered, before leaning in and kissing her.

For the first time in weeks, both slept well.

A/N: So all is good (well, better, anyways) in Greg and Sara land. And I promise you, it'll stay that way for a little while. The next chapter, in fact, is pretty much...well, not fluff, but close. Stay tuned...happiness is just around the corner.