A/N: Another amazing beta from JellybeanChChi, who also contributed to this chapter. This story has many great chapters, but a few stand out just a little more than others, and I think this and two chapters that follow this, are the strongest yet. I certainly count them among my very favorites. As always, your review/comments and PM's are appreciated. I hope you enjoy this chapter and the once to follow. :D

Chapter 32

"I don't need help with a shower or to get dressed for bed. Leave it, Sara."

Despite the gruffness and insistence of his voice, Grissom couldn't make eye contact with Sara. He simply sat on his bed sulking, his gaze focused on the bathroom door and nothing more. "For Christ's sake, I'm not a child."

Sara knew his first night back at the house wouldn't be a romantic or momentous homecoming. She was warned about the mood swings, and she expected them. So she tried to sound as patient and gentle as possible because while these months have been hard for her, they were probably harder on her husband.

"Gil, I know you're not a child, sweetheart," Sara soothed gently. "But don't you think it'll be safer if you don't shower alone, at least at first?"

"I can manage!" he snapped.

He knew her offers to help were out of love and support. He knew that, yet he continued to angrily dismiss her and any loving advances. He had to do things for himself, for his sake and hers. He had to be as independent as possible for the next three weeks — a ghost in his own home — so that it will be an easier transition for Sara when he would inevitably return to prison.

His plan would be so much easier if she would not be so damn kind and so damn stubborn.

In other words, if she hadn't been so Sara Sidle-ish.

"Even in you can manage, Gil, which I don't think you can right now, what is the harm in me helping you?"

He stood up from the bed using his cane and let his rage overtake him as he took the short walk to the bathroom. "I'M FINE! JUST STOP!" To drive the point home, he slammed the bathroom door and locked it.

Sara shook her head in frustration and sighed she heard the telltale sound of the lock. It was silly, really, the lock was easily pickable. Each of them had accidentally locked the door after exiting, which is why there was a key on the top of the door frame.

She thought about using the key, but decided maybe he just needed to cool off.

The ring of her cellphone also convinced her to give him a moment or two. She looked at the caller ID and made a face as she answered. "Karson? Is everything all right?"

"Sorry for the late call, Sara? I didn't wake you two, did I?"

"No, we're getting ready for bed. What's up?" she asked as she heard the shower turn on in the bathroom.

Oblivious to her phone call, Grissom turned on the water spray despite being still dressed. He didn't want Sara to hear him struggling while he got undressed and got into the walk-in shower. If she did, he knew she would use the key they had on the door frame to pick the locked bathroom door.

At least he didn't have to pull a t-shirt over his head. The button-down, blue plaid shirt was much easier to disrobe. He unbuttoned each button slowly and deliberately to ease the motion of moving his arm up and down. He undid the string on his sweats and pushed them down while simultaneously avoiding any movement in his knee and any twisting motion that would hurt his ribs.

The pants fell without too much protest, so he made his way inside the shower. In hindsight, turning on the water was a bad idea because the floor was wet and slippery. All the sudden, the shower chair, which he initially saw as needless, seemed like a good idea.

After Sara hung up her phone to end her second phone call, she noticed five minutes had passed. He should have cooled down for now, she thought. Although, she didn't know how he would react to the news she got on the phone.

She knocked on the bathroom door. "Gil?" Knowing the water was on, and he might be using his patented semi-permeable hearing, she spoke a lot louder. "GIL! CAN YOU TURN OFF THE WATER FOR A SECOND?"

"What?"

"I NEED TO TALK TO YOU. TURN OFF THE…"

"What?"

She was going to yell again until she heard a loud clatter and a curse. She frantically grabbed the key and opened the door. "What happened? Are you OK?"

Inside the shower she saw a water-soaked Grissom stretching unsuccessfully to grab the soap bar and shampoo bottle that had fallen on the tile and out of his reach. "I'm fine. I can get up and get it."

"This is ridiculous," Sara mumbled as she got to the shower door and turned off the water. "It's OK to ask for help, hon…"

Seeing his naked back for the first time made Sara pause. She was told about the lacerations on his back, how there were many lacerations and how some needed stitches. But it was only now that she saw the extent of the damage on his back and coupled the visible injuries on his leg, torso and head, it made her tear up.

There was no doubt in her mind: He definitely had it worse in these last two months.

For his part, Grissom felt completely exposed sitting in that chair. "I… I'm fine. I'll get out."

She took a deep breath and put a firm hand on his shoulder. She mustered up a smile and cleared her throat before speaking. "Don't get up. You worked so hard getting in here, so let's finish together. It won't take long."

Sara retrieved two more wash cloths and then picked up the soap and shampoo. Since the shower head could be both stationary and hand held, she took it out of the cradle. "Go ahead and soap up. I'll do your back and then your hair. And we can dry off."

Grissom let out a sigh. "Sara, it's not your responsibility to take care of me. I can do this."

She came around the chair to face him and despite being fully clothed kneeled on the wet, tile floor. "You know, I need this." She placed her hands on his thighs feeling him tense under her touch. "I need to be able to help you because I almost lost you. This is important to me. I know this is hard for you, honey, but I need you to understand that."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He could get out of this if he fought harder, and wasn't sure if he really wanted to fight. "OK."

She gave a smile and squeezed his thighs again but before walking behind him she asked him a question. "Was it too difficult to take off your underwear?"

Grissom looked perplexed. He hadn't even noticed he did that. "Oh. Habit… from … uh… I'll take them off now."

"Let me help," Sara said. She didn't need clarification for his broken statement — it was habit from his time in prison. She wouldn't take off her undergarments in prison either.

Once she was behind him, they fell into a silence. Somewhat strained. Somewhat familiar. Regardless, they did their respective tasks — he washed his front and she took care of his back, shoulders and nape. Then she lovingly washed his hair.

The shower finished, Sara helped Grissom out then returned to the shower to wash herself. Grissom turned to give her privacy and took his time drying himself before slowly retreating to the bedroom.

Washed and teeth brushed, Sara left the bathroom and found Grissom on the edge of their bed working to get some pyjama pants on. "You got it?"

"Yes," he said distantly.

"Do you feel a little better?"

He shrugged his answer. "What were you going to ask me when you broke into the bathroom?"

"Oh, yeah… I got a call from Karson, my supervisor. He was giving us a heads up. Detectives Foster and Bowden are coming over early in the morning to get a statement from you. I called Wilbur. He's going to be here. Earlier than the detectives, he hopes."

He knew this interview was inevitable, but that didn't make it any easier to contemplate it. Seeing how lost he was in his own thoughts, Sara went about putting on clothes and getting ready for bed. Noticing him still rooted in his spot, she grabbed a button-down sleep shirt for him and sat next to him.

"This is nice and soft. Want to put it on?"

He looked at her, his gaze practically unreadable. She lifted up the shirt so he could simply put his arms through the armholes. He complied then stood and worked to button the buttons himself. "Do you want me to sleep in the other room?"

"What?" Sara asked incredulously. "Why would you think that?"

The shrug returned. "I haven't been exactly… pleasant to be around. Besides, it might be better."

Sara stood up. "I'm going to sleep. In our bed. I'd like you to join me. But, honestly Gil, it's up to you. I'll be back. I'm going to secure the house and turn off the lights."

When she came back to the bedroom a couple of minutes later, she breathed a sigh of relief in seeing Grissom under the covers at the furthest part of his side of the bed. He feigned sleep, she could tell, but she didn't question him. She simply got into her bed, kissed him on his forehead and said, "Goodnight. I love you."

Physically, waking up was not a pleasant act for Grissom. The locations of his aches and pains seemed never-ending, and their severity ever present.

But this morning, waking up would be equally unpleasant mentally.

He feigned sleep when Sara rose out of bed, telling him she would begin breakfast and then come back to help him get dressed. But he really didn't want that. Once he heard her pad into the kitchen, he started the slow sojourn from rising from the bed to getting some clothes on to walking into the kitchen.

He stopped for a moment before fully entering the kitchen. Sara was just plating up some buckwheat pancakes and fruit salad for breakfast – his favourite. It was such a sweet moment of domestic tranquillity but Grissom couldn't get past the pain, anxiety and sour outlook. He hated himself for not being able to fully appreciate the moment and ruin it.

Feeling eyes upon her, Sara turned around with a smile. It wasn't completely returned, although she thought he tried to upturn his mouth slightly. His dishevelled, exhausted appearance tugged at her heart. The pain in his knee, torso and back made sleep difficult, and the nightmares had left him soaked in a chilling sweat. Neither of them had slept well.

Although she said she would help him dress, he hadn't listened and put on a navy blue t-shirt and a pair of sweats. The shirt hung loosely from his thin frame, and Sara wondered at what it had cost him to put it on. As he limped his way to the table, leaning heavily on the cane, she was relieved to note that he wore his knee brace. He kept his eyes downcast as he painfully sat down at the table.

"I'd thought I'd make your favourite," Sara said, as she brought his plate over. She brushed her fingers gently through his soft, graying curls. "Your mother is bringing Daniel and Hank back, today. She's desperate to see you. Daniel will be excited to see you, too. He's really missed you. We all have."

He let the conversation drift over his head. She watched a moment as Grissom stabbed listlessly at his pancakes before she grabbed her own breakfast and sat across from him at the table.

But he stared with dismay at his plate. The thought of having to answer any further questions turned his stomach. He doubted that his answers would satisfy them, anyway. Recent events had proven that already, and he was under no illusions that this time would be any different. He pushed his plate away, what little appetite he had, was now gone. He'd not even attempted to eat anything. "I'm not very hungry."

"If the pancakes are too much, maybe the fruit salad.."

"I said I didn't want anything!" Grissom insisted loudly, his eyes seeking out and holding hers briefly, before he glanced away and shook his head. "Aren't you late for work?" he asked, his tone calmer.

Another mood swing and again unpredictable. Sara tried not to take his attitude too personally. He'd need time, and a lot of support as well as patience. Still, she took a moment before she answered his question.

"Work's covered, Gil. The only place I need to be is right here with you."

Grissom raised his head, his eyes narrowed as he held eye contact with her, almost challengingly. His body may be beaten, but his mind was not broken. He began to fit the pieces together. While it would have made sense to stay in Pahrump rather than drive the hourly commute from there every day, he knew there had to be another, underlying reason she wasn't working now.

"You mean you've been fired, don't you?" he asked, bluntly. "Because of me," he continued, as his bravery at maintaining eye contact faded, and he lowered his head.

"No, that's not what happened," Sara was quick to assure him. "I've been suspended, with pay. Not because of you but because of whoever is responsible for all of this." Sara rose quickly and went round to Grissom's side of the table, and pulled out a chair next to him. She grabbed his hands, but knew better than to make him look at her. "Sweetheart you're far more important than work. I'm needed more here. Right now, my main priority is you and Daniel."

"It wasn't fair to suspend you," Grissom said vehemently. "They had no right to do that to you. You didn't do anything wrong."

"You're right. You're totally right. It was a completely rash decision, but thankfully, it wasn't suspension without pay. I argued I shouldn't be denied pay and benefits because I had done nothing criminally wrong, and Conrad conceded immediately. It wasn't even a fight," Sara said. "And at this point, the suspension actually helps. Like I said you and Daniel are my No. 1 priorities right now, and I would have taken Family Medical Leave to be home. But now I can save that so I could use it for another reason."

He looked down at their joined hands, his mouth twisting. While outwardly he was still angry at how she was treated, inwardly, he marvelled at her lack of bitterness, even seeing a silver lining. "Why would you need to save it?"

Sara smiled, but anything further she might have said was cut off by the sound of the doorbell.

"That's probably Wilbur," Sara stated, gently squeezing his hand supportively, before rising and answering the door.