Grissom walked back to the waiting room to find Brass and Greg sitting there making small talk.
"Hey." He took a seat nearest Greg, "Brass, while she's with Dave I'd like to run home and grab some of her things. Would you mind giving me a lift?"
"Not at all." Brass stood.
Grissom turned toward Greg, "Once Dave's out, feel free to go on in collect evidence from her—nail scrapings, trace from wounds, hair combings... I know she'll be happy to see you." Greg simply nodded in return as watched the two men make their way to the elevator.
The car ride was silent for the most part. They were just a few minutes away from their home when Brass finally spoke.
"So, who's Dave?"
"Oh, it's her mentor from San Francisco."
"She hasn't worked there in over eight years. They kept in touch?"
"They did. They're very close."
Brass was astonished by the candid responses he was receiving from Grissom. It was the most open he'd ever seen his friend about his personal life.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay now." He spoke honestly.
Brass pulled up in front of Grissom's loft.
"You must be exhausted." Brass spoke as the got out and made their way inside. "Why don't you take a quick shower while we're here. I'll have a cadet drop your car off at the hospital for you so you don't need to rely on us for a ride after this."
Grissom agreed. "Can I get you anything?"
"No, no. I'm Fine. I'll just wait here." He sat himself down on the couch. "Where's Hank?" He called to Grissom who had disappeared down the hall. He could hear him shuffling things around and stuffing an overnight bag.
"Still at the sitter's" He called back.
Grissom turned the shower water on. Before getting in the shower he took a look at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. A complete and total mess. Dirt and sand were speared on his face and caked in his hair. His eyes drooped from exhaustion. A quick shower would do him good.
No more than ten minutes later Grissom emerged cleanly showered, wearing some new clothing and slinging an overnight bag over his shoulder.
"Thanks again, Jim." He spoke softly as they left the loft.
Meanwhile, Dave wasted no time with Sara.
"I saw on the news that this Natalie person was in foster care. Did you have a connection there with her? I can't understand why you would be a target."
Sara shook her head against the pillow. "No, It wasn't about that. She said something while she was transporting me. Something that made it sound like it was revenge." Sara's voice was horse and small. Each word took effort. Her sore ribs became a constant reminder of not only this event, but the event that caused them to break originally.
"Revenge?"
"I think she blames Grissom for the death of Dell... her foster father."
"I'm sorry you went through this Sara."
"I'm fine now. Really." Dave shook his head, he wasn't buying it.
"It's okay to not be fine, Sara." He paused a moment, trying to find the right words. "I overheard that your old injuries... the ribs and wrist, that they were re broken."
"Yeah." Her voice was so small he could barely hear her. She was fighting back tears.
"You've healed so much since then, Sara. You've grown so much. Don't let this take you back. You're stronger than that."
A single tear left her eye and he gently wiped it away.
"Has anyone called my mother?"
"No, Grissom asked my advice on that while you were in surgery still... I told him to hold off. Figured that should be your decision."
Dave redirected the conversation to lighter and more fun topics. He told her about a new hire that reminded him of her when she first started out. Of the interesting crime's the team had solved recently. Of her old team members and where they were now.
"And how's Susan?"
"She's well. And Harry is headed off to college in the fall."
"Wow. He's 18 already isn't he?" Dave nodded, "I can't believe it. Where's he going?"
"Harvard." Dave glowed, "That idea you planted in his head all those years ago stuck." He looked down at this watch briefly, "I have to catch a flight soon to head back. I have a deposition I need to be present for in the morning."
"You really didn't need to come all this way, Dave."
"Of course I did." He reached out for her hand again, "I'm just so relieved you're safe." He paused a moment before continuing, "Now look, your recovery is going to be long and hard. It's going to be challenging. I need you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need. I can take a flight out the minute you call. You just need to say the word."
"I appreciate that, Dave, I really do. But I'll be fine." She gave a small smile, "Grissom's taken good care of me already."
He nodded and said goodbye before exiting and heading back to the waiting area. He decided to sit there for a few minutes, hoping to have a chance to talk to Grissom once more before departing for the airport.
Upon seeing Dave exit Sara's room, Greg made his way back there. He stood in the doorway for a moment, letting the shock of her appearance leave his features before letting her see him.
"Greggo." She breathed as he entered the room, kit in hand.
"Sara." His voice was relieved and he pulled a stool up to her bedside. "What's going on? What's new?"
She laughed smally, "Oh, you know. Just a little rest and relaxation to end the week." She glanced over at his kit, "You hear to collect?"
"I'm here to see you... and then yes, to collect evidence."
Dave stood as he saw Grissom and Detective Brass step off the elevator.
"Grissom. May I have a word?" Brass excused himself to let the two men have some privacy. "I have to head out soon to catch my flight. I just wanted to thank you for calling me. For letting me know."
Grissom nodded, "I knew it would mean a lot to her to see you."
"Please take care of her. And if you could, I'd appreciate it if you could call with an update every now and then. I know she wont. She thinks she's a burden. And I worry—I—"
"I will. To both."
Dave smiled sadly, "About her ribs and wrist..."
"I know, they're injuries from her father."
"No.. No they're actually from her mother. Well, the wrist could have been from a separate occasion but..." He lowered his voice a bit, "When she called the police that night, her mother found her hanging up the phone. The police got there just in time."
Grissom's face went pale. He had never known that part of the story.
"She stabbed her, Gil. She was in a manic episode, she didn't recognize her own daughter. The knife nicked her lower two ribs."
Grissom was speechless, horrified, stupefied. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.
"Anyway," Dave continued, "I'm afraid these injuries will bring back some old wounds with them. Just—keep an eye on her. Okay?"
Grissom agreed and shook his hand, thanking him again from coming. He then slowly made his way back to her room. At that time, Greg had already come and gone. As had Brass. He walked into her room to find her fast asleep. Her chest quivering with each ragged sleep-filled breath. He sat down at her bedside and rested his head on her cot. Letting his heavy eyes give in and pull him to sleep as well.