A/N: Sorry job market is killing me. Up to 40 applications and 2 job interviews to date. + actual dissertation and other research work. In other words, I'm truly am sorry my real life is taking up all of my time. I will do my best to keep updating this.

Chapter 8: Breathe

Grissom called Sara when he pulled into the parking lot of the lab, "I am back at work."

"I thought you were going home." Sara said.

"I need to work tonight." Grissom said, "It's fine. I promise."

"Griss you were just at the hospital yesterday, and today …"

"Sara I am fine." Grissom said stopping her, "The doctor told me I could return to work if I was not tired, and I'm not."

"Just be careful." Sara said knowing she would never talk Grissom into going home.

"You get some rest." Grissom said not sure what else to say. He had promised to try, but it goes against every fiber in his body to try. His mind is screaming he should have let her go, but his heart is telling him letting Sara go would be the single most painful thing he has done to it, ever since...

Grissom walked inside and Catherine of course saw his face.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I fell. Tripped over a curb." Grissom said trying to make it seem plausible.

"Did you convince Sara to come back this time?" Catherine did not buy his excuse, but decided not to push the subject. Out of character for her, but she was more worried about Sara leaving. She knew if Sara left, it would be a fatal blow to Grissom. He may not know how to be with Sara, but Catherine knew he needed Sara. He needed someone in his life, and Sara was the best candidate.

"How did you know?" Grissom asked.

"She wrote the guys a letter."

"She's coming back tomorrow."

"Good for us. Bad for her." Catherine said.

Grissom caught the bad for her. "I am going to try."

Catherine nodded, she did not believe Grissom would be able to change, but she hoped for Sara's sake he would because Grissom would keep hurting Sara until she finally walked away. She knew Griss was not doing it on purpose, he just was inept when it came to matters of the heart, or emotion, or anything that did not have a purely academic purpose. Despite all of that Catherine knew she cared for him, he was her closest friend. He had always been her rock. In another life she probably could love him, but not in this life. They were just really good friends, and it was time for her friend to find happiness. Even if that happiness meant it could ruin another persons life, hopefully, that would not be the case.

Grissom worked from his office most of the evening, catching up on the Howard's case. There had been almost no progress in his time away from the lab. Nor was he making much headway in finding any evidence to point towards a suspect. As the dawn approached he continued to work on, not realizing the time as he was wrapped up in his work. This case would get to him, if he let it, and he knew he had to reinforce the wall between him and this case. Sara had chipped away at the wall, he had seen how it hurt her so much to see the horrible things that had been done to these people. It was Sara that made this case hard, how hard it was on her. Not the actual case. The actual case, while horrible, was not the worse Grissom had ever seen. No human can look at the horrific acts and feel nothing, but Grissom learned to quickly feel it and than push it away. The best thing he could do for these people, the victims, now is to work the case in an objective manner. So when they caught the people responsible, the evidence would be there to get the punishment the perpetrator(s) deserved.

None of this was what Grisosm was focusing on or thinking about. His sole focus was memorizing the evidence, trying to piece together a puzzle with a lot of missing pieces. It was his sole focus, so when Eckile walked into the room and started to talk to Grissom about how important it was to find the killers and find them fast, Grissom did not hear a word. However, Eckile had assumed Grissom had listened to him, and so he was happy as he left the room.

It was some time later when Brass walked into the room. After saying hello to his friend and his friend did not respond, Brass knew Grissom was in his own world. Brass thought of Grissom as a friend, and Brass was sure he was the closest thing Grissom had to a friend. Calling to his friend again and getting no response, Brass walked up and gently tapped Grissom to get his attention.

Grissom almost jumped out of his skin, he had been reading the autopsy report and looking over the crime scene photos and was unaware of any of the conversations he may have had in the past couple of hours.

"I called your name first." Brass said with a smile on his face, having seen the fear come over his friend when Brass had pulled him back into the real world. "You were engrossed in that file. Anything good?"

"Not yet." Grissom said setting the photos down annoyed that the puzzle was refusing to go together.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine." Grissom said almost growling he was getting tired of people asking him. It was a scare, but he was doing what the doctor had told him to do. Everything would be fine, he would be fine. Everyone needed to stop asking.

"Ok." Brass said raising his hands, "Someone is in a bad mood."

Grissom ran his hand over his face, "Sorry. I did not mean to snap. "

"You ready to go to the bank?"

"I want to talk to the teller who told you about the Mrs. Howards affair first." Grissom said getting up from the chair he had occupied for hours. He felt his knees and back crack, and in his head he cursed old age.

"I checked and she will be working today so that is possible." Brass said following his friend out of the room, and than out of the building.

Brass decided to wait until he had Grissom trapped in the car, while it was moving so Grissom could not escape before he broached the one subject Catherine had asked him to talk about with Grissom.

They were on a main road on the way to the bank when Brass asked, "How did you talk Sara out of leaving again? I am guessing she did not give you those nice bruises forming?"

"No Sara did not give me the bruises." Grissom said having forgotten about the bruises, the pain seemed to fade away with his focus solely on solving this case. He had hoped his answering one of the two questions would be enough for Brass, but Grissom knew better. Brass would follow up, but a guy could hope right.

"So how did you get her to stay?"

"How did you know she was going to leave?"

"The guys and Catherine told me." Brass answered trying to protect his source.

"Catherine you mean." Grissom knew that meant Catherine she was likely the one who put Brass up to this conversation.

"Nick too." Brass replied honestly. Nick had called him, hoping Brass might be able to talk some sense into Sara if Grissom had failed.

Grissom shook his head, he did not want to talk about his private life with a colleague, "We talked. I told her how she was important to the lab, and she was a critical team member. The team needed her."

"That is it?" Brass said not believing that was enough and the tone of his voice also indicated he knew Grissom was blowing smoke.

Grissom looked out the window, "I offered to move shifts. So she would not have to work with me. So I would not be her supervisor."

That had surprised Brass, but he hid it, "And what did she say?"

"She didn't say she wanted it." Grissom said.

"Would you be willing to actually do it?" Brass asked knowing Grissom enjoyed the night shift. The best cases came in at night. Any other shift would mean having to work around Eckile.

"Yes. It is only fair. I asked her to come down here. She is important for the team." Grissom answered not mentioning that she was important to him, and he would hate moving to any other shift, but he would do it for her. It also gave him a tiny bit of hope, another shift, not being her supervisor would allow him a chance to maybe try. He felt a tiny bit of that same hope he had felt when he asked her to stay, before he was made the permanent nightshift supervisor. However, the honest truth was, fear would overrun hope. Fear that it would all go wrong, she would realize he is not who she thinks he is. That he is not good enough for her, he's too old, too damage, and not really good for her. She would leave him, and he was not sure he could open up one more time to live again, to allow himself to be in the world. If she left him, it would be the confirmation to what he already believed, that he was not good enough for anyone. Confirmation that he deserved to be alone, and the most damaging that he, the man he was, was not deserving of love, that he truly was meant to live alone because he did not deserve to even have the life he had. That he did not deserve to live.

"I am glad she is staying." Brass said seeing a darkness come over Grissom, he had no idea what the other man was thinking, but Brass decided it was time to allow him off the hook.

The rest of the ride in the car was in silence, the sound of Vegas around them being the soundtrack for their ride to the bank.

Grissom and Brass were waiting in a conference room at the bank. The teller was on her way in, as soon as she finished help the bank get through the morning rush. Grissom was not sure why he wanted to talk to the teller. Brass and the other detectives likely asked all the questions Grissom would ask, but somehow he needed to see for himself.

A short blonde woman walked into the room. She was dressed in a skirt that ended just above her knees, and a white blouse that was tucked in. A fake smile was on her face as she took a seat across from Grissom.

"John told me you wanted to talk to me again."

John was now the acting manager of the bank, with the untimely death of Mark Howard.

Brass smiled, "I am detective Brass, and he is the criminalist working the Howards case, Gil Grissom".

"I already told the other detectives everything I knew."

Grissom put a fake smile on his face, "We understand. I just have a few more questions." Noticing that the woman was contemplating leaving the room Grissom added, "it won't take long and it really would help me with the case."

"Exactly what is a criminalist?"

"My team and I collect all of the evidence and process it."

"Oh. Why would you have questions?"

"Well it helps if I know a bit more about the Howards." Grissom lied, "I understand you knew Mrs Howard well?"

"Yes. Well we used to be good friends."

"It really would help if you just give me a few minutes." Grissom explained again.

"Ok."

"You told one of the detectives that Mrs Howard was having an affair with a neighbor." Grissom decided to go directly to the question that mattered, he was not sure how long he was going to keep the teller in the room. She was antsy and nervous and wanted out. If the crime had not occurred in the manner it did, he would have suspected her.

"Yes."

"How did you come by this information?"

"Augusta told me."

"Mrs Howard told you about it when?" Grissom asked.

"Well we used to be really good friends. She worked here right up until she married Mark. They were a happy couple, and he worshiped the ground she walked on. So much he bought her a bakery, it did not last long. She never really tried to make it work. Anyways, she did not worship him the same way. After the kids started to go to school and day care, she needed something else to fill her day. The neighbor was around and they started to fool around."

"And how did you find out?" Grissom asked again not stopping the woman from filling in details he had not asked for.

"She told me over lunch a few months ago."

"Do you think Mark Howard knew about it?" Brass asked.

"No. I doubt it. It would have devastated Mark."

"Can you think of anyone who would want the Howards dead?"

"No." The woman answered without thinking about the question. "They were a nice couple. I already answered these questions."

"I understand." Grissom said, "Just a few more."

He waited for her to indicate she was willing to continue and than inquired, "Can you think of any reason someone would torture Mrs Howard and the kids to get information out of Mark?"

"Is that what happened?" The teller asked her eyes darted around the room, as if she was terrified of something now.

"I cannot say." Grissom said knowing his question had scared her, Brass had perked up at her reaction to the question.

"No. I cannot think of anyone or anything he might know. He was just a bank manger."

"What does that include?" Grissom asked.

"I'm sorry." The woman replied confused.

"The job. What does a bank manager do?"

"Well he runs the bank. He was responsible for meeting targets for sales, making the business plan for the bank, bringing in the big investors, and really anything to do with our high end clients he always worked directly with them. He also always had the final say in loans."

"Well thank you for your time." Grissom said not knowing what else he would ask the woman at this stage.

"I hope you find the people who did this to Mark and Augusta. They were good people. Augusta was one of my best friends despite her extramarital affair, she was a good mother and a great woman."

"We will do our best." Brass said, "one more question sorry. Why did you say the people? Do you think more than one person did it?"

"Just a statement. I did not mean to indicate more than one person."

"Understandable. Well thank you for your time." Brass said waiting for the woman to leave the room before he turned to Grissom.

Brass looked at Grissom and he wanted to state the obvious, but he avoided it because seconds after the acting bank manager John came walking into the room.

"Do you need to talk to anyone else?"

"How well did you know Mark?" Brass asked taking over the questioning for now.

"He was my mentor. Recruited me out of business school to come work here."

"Can you think of any reason why someone would torture Mark?"

"No. My god is that what happened?" John asked faking shock.

"Yes." Brass said, "Tortured each one of his family before they moved onto him. Whatever it is that Mark knew, he did not speak."

"I hope you catch them and make them pay for what they did to Mark and his family." John said truly meaning what he was saying as far as Brass could tell.

"We will do our best." Brass replied.

It was past noon before Brass and Grissom finished at the bank, and than made a quick trip over to the Howards house to look around. It was 2 pm when Grissom finally walked into his house, Brass dropped him off and said he would send someone by to pick Grissom up for work that night. Brass had refused to take Grissom back to the lab to get his own car. He cited that the CSI was too exhausted to drive. It had been obvious, and Grissom did not fight Brass, as he realized he was exhausted.

Inside his house, Grissom turned the stereo on low. Despite being exhausted he knew sleep would not come right away. Instead he made toast and sat on his couch listening to Pink Floyd's song Breathe. By the time he got back from making his toast the song had already reached it's mid point.

Breathe breathe in the air
Don't be afraid to care
Leave, don't leave me
Look around choose your own ground

Grissom had always found this song soothing and haunting in the same manner. Somehow it relaxed him, the guitar, the melody, but the lyrics the lyrics haunted him. Reminded him of the life he had spent working, and blocking himself off from the world. Could Sara be the one to bring him back? Would he just hurt her again? Could he open up to her? He had already, some, more than most. That had to count for something, but would it ever be enough. Would she settle for him always keeping a piece of himself hidden, a piece of himself that would not be destroyed when everything went wrong between them.

Long you live, high you fly
Smiles you'll give the tears you cry
All you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be
Run rabbit run
Dig that hole
Get the sun
When at last the work is done
Don't sit down
It's time to dig another one

Finishing his toast he stretched out on the couch letting himself completely relax. He was not getting any younger. If he did not do something soon, he would die alone, unknown to the world. Few would truly miss him. That would not be too horrible, but somehow he still longed to be with someone. Didn't we all, at least not when we were lying to ourselves. Maybe he was better alone, that was the lie he told himself. He was safe alone. No one would get hurt, he would not hurt anyone else again. For everything he had done, he deserved to be alone.

However, those feelings briefly disappeared on the occasion that he allowed Sara near. She was a ray of hope, some sunshine in his life filled with darkness. He spent his entire adult life seeing the heinous things people do to each other. Yes he stay detached from those heinous acts, but knowing that a grandmother could cut the head off her grandchild because it would not stop crying, or seeing the bod of a woman beaten to death by her rapist, or any other heinous act, no matter how much you pushed it way, it changed you. It took a special person to do the job, but even than no one remained immune from it. Grissom knew that almost anyone was capable of murder, given the right circumstances. He was capable of murder, he may not have done the deed himself, but he contributed to it, pushed someone who he had claimed to love right over the edge. Yes he was a monster. Monsters did not deserve love.

It was those thoughts he took with him to sleep.

Long you live, high you fly
Only if you ride the tide
Balanced on the biggest wave
Race towards an early grave