There a distinct, unexplainable difference between learning you had a spouse and learning you had a child; as if the child held a more of a sense of urgency. Most parents had an unspoken desire to be near their children; like a lion to his cubs. The male lions know their own cubs from other cubs, it was something that God embedded in their instincts; it wasn't learned. Despite the fact that Sara's mother lived in San Francisco, she decided that it was best she stay the weekend with her and not make the drive in a single weekend. Even though Gil was anxious to see his daughter, he let Sara take her time. He didn't like being alone in the empty house by himself; the silence was heavy and saddening, he found himself anxiously anticipating Sara's return. On the morning that she was supposed to arrive, Gil felt his stomach twist into knots and he paced the floor anxiously. Around lunchtime, they pulled into the driveway and Gil hobbled out to meet them.

"How was was your weekend?" Gil asked, attempting to lighten the mood between him and Sara.

Sara climbed out of the car and offered a shy smile. "It was fine," she said. "I had forgotten how much being around my mother can piss me off."

"Do you need any help?" Gil said, starting for the stairs.

"No," Sara replied quickly. "Stay up there. I don't want to have her knock you down and me not have a way to drag you back into the house."

Gil felt that she was exaggerating, but took a seat on the swing to satisfy her. She set her suitcase on the porch, along with a Kermit-the-Frog diaper bag, and opened the door to the backseat. Gil tried to crane his neck so he could catch a glimpse of Emily, but he couldn't. Sara set Emily down on her feet and reached back into the car for something.

"Here's Frank," Sara said, handing her a teddy bear. She smoothed the child's hair back and smiled. "Daddy wants to see you."

Gil took his time looking Emily over. She was a little less than two feet tall and delicate for a toddler. Her hair was dark brown and held back in a pony tail. She had his large, blue eyes that were framed by thick, black lashes; Gil could tell she was going to be beautiful when she got older. For that cold, December day, Sara dressed her in a thick, pink coat. She had mittens on her small hands and a pink hood that tied under her chin. Emily spotted Gil on the porch then trotted through the leaves to clamber up the stairs. She climbed slowly holding onto the railing, taking large uneasy steps. Frank didn't seem to be helping the situation any, so she set him down and finished her climb.

"Hi there," Gil said.

When she reached the porch, Emily flew to him. Gil leaned down to meet her and accept her little hug. Her small hands went around his neck; they felt small, but natural. When she pulled back, she muttered something that Gil couldn't understand and pointed at Sara. The innocent way she looked at Gil melted his heart. A child's love for a parent was innocent and couldn't be easily faked; they trusted their parents. The trust that looked out of Emily's eyes broke Gil's heart and he wanted to force a memory, any memory of her, to resurface. Awkwardly she tried to pull herself into his lap, but her small hands unknowingly gripped his bad leg and he winced. With his good arm, he lifted her up and set her beside him, but that wasn't enough for Emily. She tried to climb into his lap, but the pressure was too much on his ribs and he jumped involuntarily. Without warning his head throbbed and he rubbed his temples. Sara scooped her up quickly and Emily fought her.

"No…no…no…no!" Emily screamed, her legs kicking Sara.

"Oh yes," Sara said, carrying her into the house.

O~O

After a quick lunch of Cheerios and cheese cubes, Gil sat with Emily in the living room. She had been so mesmerized by his crutches and whenever he looked at her, she was banging them on the floor. Sara told Gil that he was going to have to stay on the couch all day and hid them in a closet. Gil spent his time asking Emily random questions and listening to her innocent answers.

"Who am I?" he asked, pointing at himself.

Emily laughed at his game. "Daddy," she said, poking him in the nose with her little finger.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Emily pointed to herself. "Emwiee," she said.

"Who is that?" Gil asked, pointing towards Sara.

"Mommy!" Emily shouted, throwing her hands up in the air.

Sara stood up. "Okay," she said. "Mommy is done playing twenty questions."

Gil found that if he propped his leg up on an ottoman and placed pillows against his ribs, then Emily could sit comfortably without hurting him. Having her little body in his lap had an effect on him, a warming effect that he felt to the tips of his toes. He lifted the remote and clicked on the television.

"How about a little cartoons," he said, turning to Cartoon Network.

Emily watched Buggs Bunny run from Elmer Fudd for a while, but she shook her head vigorously and pointed. "King," she said.

Gil was confused. "What?" he asked.

Emily looked at her father helplessly. "King," she said to him.

Gil felt awful that he didn't understand her request, so he turned to Nickelodeon and watched SpongeBob Squarepants chase jelly fish with Patrick. Emily whined and pounded her fist on Gil's good leg.

"No, daddy," she said. "KING!"

Gil flipped through all the channels; he wished he knew what 'King' meant. Perhaps there was another children's show on, but he couldn't think of what it was. Mr. Rodgers had King Friday and there was a Burger King, but those were the only kings Gil could call to mind.

"KING!" Emily cried, sobbing into Gil's chest.

"Put it on Food Network," Sara said from the kitchen. "Channel fifty-three."

He changed the channel and saw a chef mixing eggs rapidly. Emily stopped sobbing and watched as the man added peppers and poured the mixture into a skillet.

"She said cooking," Sara explained. "She can watch it all day if you let her."

Gil looked at the television and then down at Emily. Her finger was in her mouth and she was looking intently at the screen.

"What is that?" Gil asked, pointing at the television.

"King," Emily answered.

O~O

Dinner with Emily proved to be entertaining. Sara made a delicious vegetable pasta with steamed asparagus and carrots. If the toddler didn't like something she put in her mouth, she dropped it to the floor.

"Gwoss," she said, dropping a piece of asparagus on the floor.

When dinner was finished there were four pieces of asparagus, a noodle, and a carrot on the floor. When Sara lifted Emily out of the chair, noodles fell to the ground and Hank hurried over to claim them.

"Do you think you can sit with her while I put her in the bath?" Sara asked.

Gil was annoyed. "Sara, I may be having trouble, but I'm not useless," he said.

Sara gave a nod and carried Emily to the bathroom. Gil grabbed his crutches and hobbled after her, regretting the way he spoke to her. The master bathroom was where she chose to bathe Emily and it was by far the biggest. There were two sinks, one was obviously his and the other was Sara's. The bathtub was large and garden styled. There was a separate shower, and it was large and tiled. It was decorated in a beautiful tan with purple flowers, something that he wouldn't have chosen but would have approved of. Sara sat comfortably on the floor and undressed the little girl. Emily's eyes were already starting to get heavy and her eyes blinked slowly. When Sara pulled her little shirt off, Gil noticed a faint, white scar on Emily's small diaphragm. It was the kind of scar you get from having a serious surgery, not from falling down during play.

"Did she have heart surgery?" Gil asked, motioning to the scar.

Sara hesitated. "Yes," she said. "She had open heart surgery when she was ten months old."

Gil nodded. "And I assume we have the best pediatrician," he said

Sara nodded. "He's pretty good," she said. "After all she's our special girl and she needs special care."

Sara turned on the tap and adjusted the temperature. She added a cap full of lavender bubble bath and some toys. When everything was right, she sat Emily in the water and gave her a plastic cup.

"What do you mean by special?" Gil asked.

Sara thought for moment. "We had a difficult pregnancy," she explained. "I am HG positive and you are HG negative."

Gil understood. "So your body attacked the fetus like it was a virus," he said.

Sara nodded. "We had miscarriages before we understood everything. I carried Emily for almost six months and then I delivered. She was kept in NICU for a while," Sara closed her eyes. "I can still see her in the incubator. She was so small."

Gil licked his lips. "She's healthy now, right?" he asked.

"No entirely," Sara answered. "She has asthma and heart problems. She sleeps hooked up to a monitor and it goes off if her heat beat stops or… if her breathing stops," Sara said.

Gil sat on the toilet and looked on at Emily. "How is her hearing?" he asked.

"Just fine," Sara said, standing. "Now, don't let her climb out or throw water on the floor."

After she left, Gil lowered himself to the floor and inched over to her. He wondered what kind of father would forget a delicate surgery. He slowly reached out with his hand and fingered the scar.

"Wader," Emily said, splashing.

"Yeah," he said. "Water."

O~O

Sara showed Gil how to hook up Emily's monitor and how to make her comfortable. The toddler's small body looked lost under her blankets, but soon she was sound asleep and Sara went into the living room to grade papers. After a while, Gil hobbled in and sat down beside her. He cleared his throat nervously and Sara looked up.

"I've been thinking," Gil said. "About hypnosis. Dr. Stogner said there was a chance that it may bring my memories back."

Sara set down her pen. "Dr. Stogner also said that it was a slim chance. Gil, you aren't having some kind of disassociate episode… you have brain damage. "

"But I want to take that chance," Gil said. "I have been having these feelings that I want explained."

Sara took off her glasses and leaned back into the couch. "I'm listening," she said.

"While you were gone this weekend," Gil said. "I hated being alone. I couldn't wait for you to come back. It's like that when I wake up in that bed alone, I feel like something is missing; I think it's you."

Sara brushed her hair out of her eyes. "It may be," she said.

Gil sighed. "Look I'm trying," he said. "I accept that we were married and I believe that I had feelings for you."

"That's the difference between us at the moment," Sara said, picking her pen back up. "You say you had feelings for me. I still have them for you."

"Let me tell you the real difference between us," Gil said, keeping his voice in check. "You can remember your feelings. I can't just pull them out of a hat. If I could give you all the answers I would, but it's impossible." There was a pause and Grissom said. "Do you want to try this or not?"

Sara thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yes," she said. "Let's do it."