A/N: As always your reviews, comments and PM's are very much appreciated. I have another favorite in this chapter. :) Maybe you will see why, and maybe not...and that's fine. Another awesome beta by JellybeanChiChi as always, and for her support and guidance. This story wouldn't be what it is without your help.

Chapter 29

Finally, after two months and one week, her husband was coming home. She'd quickly called Wilbur to tell him the good news. He'd then surprised her, when he promised to be there when her husband was discharged from the hospital. Within an hour or two of her call to the lawyer, the guard that had been stationed outside his room had been dismissed.

Sara had realized just how much weight Grissom had lost over the last two months, and, reluctant to leave his side any longer than she absolutely had to, had headed to a nearby menswear outlet before going to the hospital. Aware of the amount of pain he was in, and aware that a t-shirt might be too painful and difficult for him to manage, she'd opted instead for a blue plaid button-down shirt.

The swelling on Grissom's left knee had reduced enough for Dr. Tanner to keep her word and fit Grissom with a brace to help support his knee. His few attempts at walking, had prompted the use of a cane, to help support him as his knee healed. To help with that situation, she also bought sweatpants and a pair of slip on loafers.

With lightness in her step, Sara joined Wilbur Jacobsen and Officer Andy Akers in entering Grissom's hospital room. Grissom wasn't alone when the trio entered his room. Dr. Tanner was with him, and smiled on seeing Sara's return to the room. "I was just updating your husband on the benefits of considering rehab."

Grissom kept his eyes downcast, staring at the floor. "I can't see any benefit if I'm only home for three weeks," he muttered, quietly shifting in his wheelchair.

Dr. Tanner knelt down so that she was more level with Grissom so she could address him directly. She tried to catch his eye, but he refused to look at her. "Mr. Grissom, I'm not going to force you, into something you don't want to do," Dr Tanner said gently. "But, can you at least agree to think about it, if prison isn't in your future? Without it you may cause more damage to your leg, and cause more pain than what you are in now. I'm sure you don't want that."

Grissom remained quiet, and Dr. Tanner rose to her feet with a sigh. "Okay, Mr. Grissom. I'm not going to push the issue. But I do insist that you follow PRICE — Protect, Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation — for pain management when you're home. I also recommend avoid HARM — Heat, Alcoholic drinks, Running, Massage. While a hot bath, sauna or heat packs are out of the question, a shower would be okay providing it's not too hot and precautions are taken. "

"He'll remember, doctor," Sara said. "We both will."

The doctor gave a smile to Sara, then placed a hand gently on Grissom's forearm. "I wish you the very best of luck, Mr. Grissom," she remarked with such sincerity, that Grissom looked up. Although his eye contact with the doctor was brief, he mustered a nod of thanks.

Nodding, she quickly left the room to continue her rounds. Akers took the time to adjust the electronic ankle bracelet on one of Grissom's legs. "You got a preference?" he asked.

"I suggest his right ankle would be the better option," Wilbur said.

Under the circumstances, an officer from Clark County where Grissom had originally been arrested for Jake's murder, had been authorized to apply the bracelet on discharge. Akers nodded as he knelt, raised Grissom's pant leg up and pushed the sock down so he could carefully fasten the bracelet on Grissom's right ankle. He made sure that it was secure, but asked "Not too tight?" When he saw Grissom shake his head in the negative, Akers checked it was loose enough to get over Grissom's trousers. Satisfied, he switched it on, and then rose to his feet. "It's already activated. I'll be outside waiting."

He left the room with a quick nod in Sara's direction.

Waiting until Akers exited the room, Wilbur put a hand on Grissom's shoulder. "Judge Carrigan has approved your list of locations, so when you feel up to it, you won't be confined to the house, Gil. And I have good news for you both. The sheriff has agreed to provide officers to discreetly watch the house."

"How much of a fight was that?" Sara asked.

"It wasn't," Wilbur said. "Once he realized Rory Dunbar and David Fromansky were involved, and Dunbar was still out there, he insisted on the coverage. Officer Akers will accompany you home, and check to make sure that everything is secure, once you return."

He knelt down to be level with Grissom, who refused to maintain eye contact. "Gil," Wilbur said, taping his right hand gently on the arm of the wheelchair. When Grissom finally looked at him, Wilbur continued. "This whole thing with the bracelet, won't be for long. Ferguson is still looking for Hobson, and I have every confidence he will find him soon. There has been no new sightings of Rory. I'd like that you take that as a hopeful sign, Gil, but I know better than that. But I do need you to know, that you and your family are safe. Concentrate on healing and let me deal with everything else, alright?"

Grissom sighed heavily, but remained stubbornly silent. He'd resigned himself to the fact that, this was all a waste of time, and in time they would come to the same realization. There would be no future for him, expect prison.

Sara glanced with worry at Grissom. The journey to their home had become increasingly more painful for him, and they still had a little over half an hour to drive.

His lips were little more than a thin, white slash on his pale, agonized face. Although the A/C was on, his skin and hair were damp with sweat, his pallid face showed spots of colour as though he had a fever. He shifted uncomfortably, burying deeper into the passenger seat as he desperately tried to find some way to ease the deep, throbbing pain in his knee.

His eyes were squeezed tight shut, both against the intense pain he felt, and from the glare of the sun. Because of his broken nose, he was unable to wear his sunglasses, and the sun visor wasn't that much help. His right hand had a vice-like grip on the panic bar above the window, so much so his knuckles were white. His arm shook slightly with the force of his grip. His left hand rubbed the top of the sturdy elastic brace that covered his knee over the top of his sweatpants. Earlier, he'd complained that it felt hot and tight. With a loud groan of pain, he shifted once more, trying to escape the all-consuming agony that was his knee, as Sara had no choice put to pull up at a red light.

This wasn't quite the homecoming Sara had envisioned. She could feel her own tears building at the amount of pain he was in. She reached over and grasped his tightly clenched hand in hers. His skin felt clammy, and she knew it was the pain. "It's not much further, Gil," she attempted to soothe him. "Do you want to me pull over somewhere…."

He cut her question off with an abrupt shake of the head, uttering another long loud groan of agony. He bit down on his lip, and his grip tightening on the panic bar. Tears of pain slid down his cheeks.

"Just...need...need to stretch out…these...damn lights….aren't helping," he gasped, between clenched teeth.

The light changed, and she set off again, pressing the accelerator just a little harder. "We're almost there, honey," she soothed rubbing her thumb over the back of his fisted left hand. She could feel his body trembling. "I'm sorry."

"No. It's… it's not your fault."

Within a few short minutes the comforting sight of Sonterra Circle and their home came into view.

She pulled up onto the drive in front of the garage, and quickly left the car. Officer Akers was by her side as she opened the front door, and turned off the alarm. "Let me do a walk through while you tend to your husband." Sara nodded her thanks and went back to the car.

With a Herculean effort, Grissom pulled himself out of the car, taking a few moments as nausea from the pain roiled in his stomach. His face was soaked in sweat, even the bruises were colourless. His expression was one of intense pain and discomfort. Dizziness made the house swim momentarily as his head and knee both throbbed and pounded in rhythm of his heartbeat.

Sara briefly struggled with the idea of if she should help him or not. In his current state, she wasn't completely sure if he would be able to make it inside on his own, even with the aid of a cane. With pain and exhaustion clear on his face, it was evident that the hour-long drive from Pahrump had taken its toll.

Her husband's needs outweighed any other concerns she might have, and she carefully manoeuvred her arms around his waist, mindful of the deep bruising that was there.

With a grimace of pain that lanced through his left shoulder, he grasped her shoulder desperately, as his other hand leaned heavily on the cane, trying to keep as much of his weight off her.

They'd made the short walk to the front door, when Akers reappeared, holstering his gun. "Everything's secure, Sara," he said as he watched the couple carefully. "Can I help?" he asked hesitatingly.

Grissom's wince of pain was enough to persuade Sara for a little help to get him to the sofa faster. "Take over for me here, and I walk on the other side of him."

Akers nodded and took the bulk of Grissom's weight while Sara had used her arm, instead of the cane, to steady himself. As she held the cane in her other hand, she guided them towards the living room. "He just needs to get to the sofa."

Once he was settled onto the sofa, Grissom uttered a semi sigh of relief, finally able to stretch out his bad knee.

"OK, I'm going to head out," Akers said. "I'll park a bit further back, but with the house in sight, and another officer is at the other side, covering the rear of the house. We've got it covered, if there's a problem."

Sara thanked him, but the thought "famous last words" briefly crossed her mind, before she brushed it aside and turned her attention back to what her husband needed. She gathered some spare pillows from the linen closet, and placed them under his head and his knee, before gathering an ice pack, a towel and a glass of water. In the time it had taken Sara to grab the items, Grissom had taken off the knee brace. She wasn't sure on the wisdom of removing it, but cast it aside for the time being. Right now, it was about what would make him comfortable.

She handed him his painkillers and the glass of water, and watched with concerned eyes as he settled back into the sofa, hardly believing that he was finally home. She sat next to him and asked, "Are you hungry? I could make something while you rest?"

She took his hands in hers as they rested limply on his stomach. Instead of answering the question, Grissom sat there working to level his breathing. Sara let go of his hands for a moment to grab the hand towel she placed on the sofa arm. She gently wiped the sweat on his face and brow before gently sweeping a finger across his hairline.

At that moment, Grissom turned his head and caught her eyes. He stared intently at her, and Sara could identify so many different emotions in his expressive eyes — some laced with pain, others with uncertainty.

But when he wordlessly reached up to grab her hand and place it again upon his stomach, she knew there was love in his eyes as well. Even as he turned his head and closed his eyes, she knew being home was a moment of respite for him, despite his fears for the future.

"I'll let you rest," she said, ready to stand.

With his eyes closed, Grissom squeezed Sara's hands before she could move away. His grip started to loosen and his breathing became even as the medication began to take affect. "I'm okay," he said drowsily. "Thank you."

Sara let go of his hands and played with his hair. "Maybe when you wake up we could have take out to celebrate your homecoming," Sara said, causing Grissom's mouth to twitch upwards in the barest hint of a smile before his face relaxed completely in sleep.

She sat and watched him as he slept for a few moments, reveling in the fact that he was really home. Reluctantly, she dragged herself away from him and headed to the kitchen. She'd promised to update Betty once they'd arrived home, and she desperately wanted to see Daniel too. She looked forward to having her two favourite boys back under the same roof once more.

They had been home for less than an hour when the doorbell rang. Sara looked at the door with a look of alarm, before glancing at Grissom who still lay sleeping on the sofa. Cautiously, Sara approached the door, her heart racing. She looked through the peep-hole to see Nick Stokes on the other side.

She debated whether she should open the door. But when he knocked once more, she feared that he might wake Grissom from his much needed rest. Her face said volumes as she opened the door and stood sentry in the doorway.

Seeing his friend like that, Nick knew he was on thin ice appearing out of the blue. "Sara, I..." He hesitated, not sure of where to begin. His expression was one of genuine remorse. "I heard Griss was home and out of the hospital..."

Sara shook her heard, raising one hand to halt any further talk from him. "Save it," she said, unwilling to forgive him. She glanced quickly over her shoulder in the direction of the sofa. "He's sleeping and I don't want him disturbed. So I'd appreciated it, if you left," she said, starting to close the door.

Nick hesitated a moment, wondering if he would ever be able to repair the damage he'd done to their friendship, before he decided it was worth the risk, and stretched his arm out, stopping Sara from closing the door.

"Nick. Don't"

"You have every right to be pissed, Sara," his tone urgent. "Just hear me, out before you close the door in my face."

"I think I've heard enough from you."

"I'm not tryin' to make excuses, but I really did try to look for Griss' innocence. I did everything by the book, and this is where it got me," Nick said.

"I'm sorry," Sara said, her voice laced with venom. "Where it got you? What the hell does that mean?"

"I doubted him, Sara. I doubted you." Nick said, honest remorse reflected in his voice. "I know now he didn't kill Jake, and he isn't behind the jailbreak. If you let me apologize properly, and let me in so we can talk, maybe we can figure out how to prove his innocence. Because, right now, no matter what I think, the evidence is telling us … he doesn't have a chance for innocence," Nick finished desperately. "I don't want him to go down for this. He doesn't deserve it."

Sara's eyes blazed with fury at his nerve. "It's a little late for that Nick!" she hissed, keeping her voice low despite her anger. "You made you feelings quite clear that day at the restaurant." Sara tried to close the door again, and this time, Nick wedged it open with his foot. Sara's dark eyes burned.

"Move it, or I'll break it," she warned, her tone enough to convince Nick that she meant it. He braced his arms against the door frame before moving his foot.

"Hear me out, Sara!" he pleaded. "It's not too late. Not if we work together."

Sara could feel her blood pressure rising. If she had to, she could ram into Nick like a linebacker and slam the door shut. But a part of her was curious.

"How is it not too late?"

"Karson is getting pressure from the D.A. to find evidence on Grissom's guilt. The D.A. wants to go for the jugular," Nick said, putting all the cards on the table. "But we can prove Grissom wasn't behind the jailbreak. If we can discover what really happened with Jake, the D.A. will have nothing. Please, Sara. Let me in, and we can exchange information. Karson and me, think we're onto something, but we need to know more of what happened that night. If it's not you, then I'll have to talk to Grissom."

Shaking her head, Sara's arm relaxed slightly. "He's in no condition to be questioned, Nick. You can come in, but you make it brief. He's still in a lot of pain, and sleep is the best thing for him right now."

"That's fine. Maybe we can talk."

Sara let out a sigh. If anything, talking with Nick would give her information on what the hell was going on with the investigation. "OK. Come in. We can talk in the kitchen. But if he wakes up, you're gone."

She opened the door further and Nick stepped gratefully inside. Closing the door soundlessly, she guided Nick quickly into the kitchen, giving the sofa a wide berth, not allowing him even the smallest glimpse of Grissom.

Once in the kitchen, she didn't offer him any refreshment. She simply stood with her arms folded across her chest.

Realizing his time was short, Nick got right to business. "I'm working both Jake's case and the jailbreak with Karson. We know for sure that Rory and Fromansky were involved in this," he quickly summarized.

"Yeah, a dead body will do that," Sara said, referring to Fromansky.

"So does Dunbar's fingerprints and DNA samples on various … items on scene and on Grissom himself," Nick swallowed a lump in his throat as he recalled the images from when Karson processed Grissom. "Is he… I hope… he's doing OK."

Sara let out a breath. She really wanted to possess her anger with Nick, but she knew Nick's genuine spirit and he seemed remorseful and worried. "He's not doing well, Nick. I just want him comfortable, peaceful."

Nick nodded his head. "I never wanted this for him. Even though I did everything by the book. I never wanted this for him." He let out a breath. "That's why I… we need your help. Whatever we can get to move in the right direction."

Sara nodded, giving Nick the OK to continue. "In the report on the jailbreak, there are a few. …discrepancies." He held up his hands as Sara started to speak. "Right now, I can't say too much about that. But it's enough to make Karson and me very suspicious. Once we have more evidence that they are definitely involved, then I promise to discuss it further."

Sara's mind went a mile a minute, but had to trust Nick to his work.

"I've looked over the evidence for Jake's murder with a fine tooth comb, and so has Karson. Whoever actually killed Jake, was good enough to leave trace pointing directly at Grissom," Nick said. "I know we've been through it before…"

"How far back should I start?" Sara asked, immediately recognizing where Nick was headed.

"I need to know more about what happened, leading up to and including that night."

"Jake followed me to the parking garage, and was being his usual jerk self. Saying things about Gil. When I set him straight, he grabbed my wrist. That's when Gil showed up," Sara said. "They fought. We came home. We played with Daniel and watched a movie with him." Sara wiped at her eyes for a moment. "We went to bed, and Hank woke us up. I guess it was just before midnight. Daniel woke up, too, and neither Hank nor Daniel would settle. That's when Gil decided to take Hank out. He's done it before. We didn't even know that Jake was dead until you turned up the next morning."

Nick nodded, recalling that fateful day, too vividly. "Hank was with Grissom you have any idea how long they were out?"

"Maybe half an hour. Maybe less. It wasn't long, Nick."

"I was called to the scene at Desert Breeze Park," he said slowly, formulating his thoughts. "Blood trace came back as positive to both Grissom and Jake, which makes sense since they had a previous fight."

"Gil's lawyer could fight that."

"But what I found strange was the canine DNA that led to Hank. If Grissom had Hank with him, why didn't Hank attack Jake? Doc Robbins confirmed there were no bite marks on Jake's body," Nick said. "But there was canine DNA on Jake's throat. We figured transfer from the boots, because Hank's DNA was on the boots. But so was Jake's blood."

"You're talking about the pair of Karimor Mount men's walking boots, right?"

"Yeah," Nick confirmed.

"Definitely that specific pair?"

"Committed the brand to memory. They definitely looked worse for wear."

"Like a dog got to them?"

Nick thought hard. "I'd have to check."

"Nick, I swear to you, I saw Gil throw those boots away days before Jake was murdered," Sara stated, her body relaxing.

"Are you absolutely certain on that, Sara?" Nick asked before he could quell the question. He winced inwardly, as he waited for the scathing reply he deserved.

Sara didn't seem to take offence at the question, and he relaxed slightly, as she nodded. "I'd spent the day in court, and he was putting them in the trash can as I pulled up. Hank had chewed them, and Gil wasn't exactly thrilled. They were his favourite walking boots."

Nick grinned. He could work with that information. "If someone had taken the boots…"

"Maybe there is DNA on the inside of the boot?" Sara added.

They both heard Grissom stir in the other room. Sara's face turned into one of immediate concern. "Nick I need to …"

"I understand," Nick said. "I'll go."

Sara nodded her head. As Nick turned to leave, Sara quickly asked. "Keep in touch?"

"I will Sara. Thank you."

The thanks was for more than just giving Nick information. When he left, he made sure not to disturb Grissom. Armed with the info Sara had just given him, his gut told him the boots were the key to Grissom's innocence. Grissom might have always said don't let feelings guide you, but he never disapproved of gut feelings.

This case still had secrets to reveal, and Nick was determined to find them.