A/N: Another amazing beta from JellybeanChiChi

CHAPTER 44

It felt like only an hour had passed when Sara's alarm sounded. Hoping not to disturb Grissom, Sara quickly turned it off. She wondered how much sleep he managed to get. She knew he'd still been awake when she'd nodded off. Exhaustion slowed her movements as she headed for the shower.

He had been right that work was an outlet she needed. She smiled somewhat ruefully. He knew her too well.

But anxiety gnawed at her this morning. Although he had spent four days on his own, she was worried about leaving him alone today. He seemed like he did so well yesterday, but the nightmare was more tumultuous than she had ever witnessed with him. It took her by surprise that he lashed out so physically. She had to admit her husband might be a science geek, but he can throw a punch.

It was while she was drying her hair, that she noticed the bruise under her right eye. She stared with dismay at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"Well, shit."

She touched it gently, and winced at its tenderness. She knew that he hadn't meant to hit her. The had nightmare frightened him out of his mind.

But she also knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't see it that way. He would feel immensely guilty if he realized he struck her, and even worse he caused a bruise.

She tried a dab of makeup and suddenly she felt like her mother who tried to hide bruises made by her father's hand. While Sara had absolutely no desire to follow that path in life, she knew there was a huge difference between how her mother got her bruises and how Sara got hers. Growing up in a violent household, Sara had learned the distinction between accidental and deliberate. She hoped her husband would come to that realization as well, otherwise he would feel like an abuser and all the progress they had made thus far might be ruined.

Sara exited the bathroom, hoping Grissom was still asleep. If she could preempt him seeing the bruise until the evening, at least they would have two full days together to rebuild anything that might be disrupted from the nightmare. And maybe he might be up to talking about the research she had discovered about recovering from PTSD.

But he wasn't in the room. So she had to change plans. While she dressed, she thought of the best way to get out of the house fast and with little notice of her eye. She could hitch Daniel on her shoulder in such a way that it could hide her eye a little bit. That with the makeup will make the bruise unnoticeable. Then she could tell Grissom she has to leave right away with Daniel so she could get in the lab for an early meeting she almost forgot about. "Yes. Good plan, Sara," she said aloud to herself.

"What's a good plan?"

She wasn't the only person to hear her statement. Grissom was behind her holding Daniel, who had been dressed for the day.

Not willing to abandon her plan, she scooped Daniel out of Grissom's arms and settled him into her right side. While she wanted to keep her eyes averted in other directions, as if she was distracted, she couldn't tear her stare away from her husband. It was easy to see he had not gotten much sleep after all. The bruising around his eyes and face had turned a sickly green/yellow over the last few days, but she could still make out the dark circles of exhaustion around his eyes.

"I hate to say this, but I have to get going now," she said, shifting Daniel as he fidgeted to be closer to Daddy. "I forgot I had a meeting with Karson before shift starts, and I need to get this wriggle bug to day care."

"You've not eaten anything," Grissom pointed out.

"I'll grab something after I've dropped Dan off..."

Irritation flashed in his eyes, but was quickly gone replaced by concern. "Sara, are you wearing makeup?"

"I always wear make-up."

Before she could turn away or head out the bedroom door, Grissom closed the gap between them. He took his finger and smeared the foundation she had put over her bruise. She reflexively winced as his finger touched the surface.

"What's happened to your eye?" he asked quietly, and Sara closed her eyes with a sigh of resignation. "Sara?" Grissom's quite voice insisted. "I know that wasn't there before you went to bed."

Slowly she witnessed realization at what he'd done. His deep, ocean blue eyes held sorrow and horror.

"I hit you?"

"Gil, you were asleep…"

"Oh my God," he muttered, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed with difficulty. "I'm… I'm so sorry."

Sara was quick to reassure him. "Honey, it's OK. I'm fine. It was an accident. You'd just had a terrible nightmare. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing!" Grissom said.

"Gil, calm down." This was the exact reaction Sara hoped to avoid. "This was something that was out of your control…"

"No, don't make excuses like that," Grissom said quietly, unable to look at her, as shame burned him. "I can't believe I did that to you. How could I do that to you?"

"Gil," she pleaded, taking a step forward, but he held up his hands to stop any further advancement.

"What I did… it's unacceptable. You should know that," Grissom said, visibly shaking. "That's why you hid that from me, isn't it?"

The situation was getting worse instead of better. "Look, neither of us got a decent night's sleep, and I really don't want to fight with you, Gil," Sara started.

"Why would you? I might hit you again."

"Gil, come on, you know that's not true," Sara said. "Please understand you can't blame yourself for what happened."

Although the last thing she wanted to do was to leave him like this, she realized she wasn't going to get anywhere with him until he'd fully processed what had happened. She hoped he could come to the same conclusion as her.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?! No. Of course not," Sara said. "You were scared Grissom. You thought someone killed Daniel. You had no idea what was happening."

"Maybe you should. I hurt you. I could have hurt our child." He shook his head and sat down on their bed. He cradled his head in his hands. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Sara. I'm so sorry."

She tried not to let his attitude get the best of her. She was low on sleep and low on calories. But she was determined to have the last word on the matter, "Gil, I used to have nightmares myself, remember? It wasn't my fault when I thrashed, and it wasn't your fault for what happened."

"I'm just like your father."

Sara felt the heartbreak of that statement in the pit of her stomach. She hesitated a moment, still reluctant to leave him, but Daniel was starting to fuss. She didn't want to let that be the final word, but she was afraid if she countered what he said, he would counter back with something even worse. So she chose to ignore it and instead she went to him and put her fingers through his hair, "Don't forget to put on your knee brace, OK?" She then kissed him on top of his head. "I love you," she said. She hoped he would lift his head up to say goodbye, but he didn't.

With a sigh she left with Daniel to go downstairs.

Grissom lifted up his head and clenched his fists tightly as they shook with self-directed anger. His chest rose and fell quickly as his breathing grew ragged.

He'd never raised his hand to a woman in his life. It broke his heart he struck his beloved Sara. With her family history he couldn't understand how she could be so forgiving when he couldn't even forgive himself. She might say it was accidental, but in reality Grissom saw himself as being no better than her father. Or the many abusive husbands and boyfriends he'd helped put behind bars during his career as a CSI.

Sara had been so patient and understanding as he was recovering and this was how he repaid her. He really didn't deserve her. Rory had had many faults but he'd been right about one thing — Grissom really was a worthless piece of shit. Hitting Sara only cemented that idea in his mind. He'd deserved everything that had happened to him and more.

Bile unsettled his stomach. He felt the urge to vomit. The woman who carried thier child now carried a visible wound of how he hurt her. He knew there was no penance for his actions, but he couldn't live with himself without begging for her forgiveness.

He hadn't heard the garage door open, so he thought he might be able to catch her before she left.

Forgetting about anything — from his shoes to his knee brace to his physical condition — he stood and left the room like a shot. With little caution he trampled down the stairs, but after only a few steps, his left knee started to give out while his other leg kept going. Unable to catch himself properly on the banister, his hand slipped and he tumbled down the steps.

His knee twisted and buckled and hit the wood stairs hard. By the time he reached the bottom, Grissom was completely turned around and his left leg was painfully lodged between two of the banister columns.

Once the initial shock of his fall had worn off, Grissom tried to level his breathing. But when he saw his leg pinned in the columns, he panicked and pulled the leg. An excruciating, blinding pain burst from his left knee and Grissom screamed in agony.

He froze and an agony-filled sob filled the silence of the house. His left knee throbbed and pulsed. He glanced around the room, with pain-filled eyes, trying to figure out the best way he could help himself out his predicament, but his brain was too focused on the pain. He was nowhere near the cordless phone and his cellular was in the bedroom.

Maybe if he managed to get into an upright position, he might be able to think a bit more clearly. Grissom took a steadying breath, and bit his bottom lip, as he braced himself for the pain that he knew would come. Keeping his movements as gentle as he could, Grissom worked to dislodge his leg from the columns. He uttered a groan of agony, sweat stinging his red-rimmed eyes, as his efforts drenched him in sweat, plastering his hair to his forehead.

His blanched face was soaked in sweat and his cheeks streaked with tears. He'd only been there a few minutes and it was already getting extremely uncomfortable. He knew that his discomfort would only increase the longer he stayed where he was.

A fitting punishment for hitting Sara, he reasoned guiltily. I don't deserve her or her forgiveness. I'm a fucking worthless coward just like Dunbar said. I'm an arrogant bastard who ruins lives. I don't deserve to be her husband. I don't deserve to be their father.

Those were his thoughts as swirls of darkness clouded his vision. He wondered if Sara's life would be easier if he died on the floor.