A/N: Another awesome beta from JellybeanChiChi.

CHAPTER 45

Stowing her things in her locker, Sara caught another quick glimpse of herself in the mirror. With dismay, she realized there was a good chance no one would believe the truth about the bruise. Hell, if people she had counted on as friends had turned their backs on her and her family, what hope did she have with anyone else? If she were to be honest about the matter, considering recent events, they would crucify Gil.

Then why the hell should I try to hide it? Gil knew straight away something was up. Sara pondered to herself. It's really no one else's business, and Gil certainly didn't intend to hit me. I'm the only one who has to believe that.

She closed her locker, reflecting on how many times she had heard that defense from both her mother and abuse victims over the years. Her view had been jaded on the sensitive subject, and now she was in a position she'd never thought she would find herself in — a black eye given by her husband.

But no one who knew Gil well would ever believe he was capable of violence towards her. Except, they did think he was capable of murder, and because of that Sara knew, whether she explained the situation or tried to hide it, friends and colleagues would automatically think the worst.

Still lost in her thoughts, Sara headed towards Karson's office hoping he might be in and give her an assignment, even though she was an hour early for work. She was rounding a corner when she literally bumped into Nick. She repressed a sigh of dismay. Despite his help in clearing Grissom, he was the last person she wanted to see right now. So far, his efforts to mend the rift between them hadn't gone well. If he notices her eye, it would only get worse.

"Hey Sara," Nick greeted warily.

Sara murmured an apology, after all, her mind had been on other things, and she'd not really been watching where she was going. As she moved passed him, however, he grabbed her arm.

"Hey, is everything all right?" his voice filled with concern.

Despite her irritation at his audacity, she knew that what he really wanted to know was if Grissom was being violent towards her. So it begins, she thought sadly to herself.

Mustering up a brief smile, she nodded quickly. "Everything's just fine, Nick. I was just rushing and didn't see you."

"Yeah, but your eye."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I wasn't expecting Daniel to slug me with one of his toys."

The narrowing of his eyes, and tightening of his jaw, told Sara that he saw right through her lie.

"He did that, didn't he?"

Anger flashed briefly in her dark eyes, and she thrust her chin up defiantly. He'd already made an erroneous assumption about her husband, once. She pulled her arm free of his grasp with more force than was needed. "You need to stay out of what you don't understand, Nick. I need to go." Turning, she stalked down the hall to the break room, feeling Nick's concerned eyes burning into her back.

Sara breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Karson in his office. She knocked on the door.

"Hey, you're early," Karson said.

"I thought I could get an early start today."

"Come in," Karson said. "Take a seat."

Sara sat down. "So, we got good news last night. Gil's been cleared."

Karson stood up with a smile and passed by Sara's chair to close the door. "That is good news, Sara. Really good news."

"Not good for Patrick."

"No, it isn't. I was going to let the team know today everything that has transpired," Karson said as he leaned against his desk and his eyes searched her face. "You know if you need to...talk...about anything, I'm here and it's always confidential. You know that, right?"

"I appreciate that, but everything's fine, really."

Karson folded his arms across his chest. "Really?" he asked, allowing his concern to show. "Sara, I'm gonna be honest, I'm worried about you. You and your husband have been dragged through hell and back, more than once. You've experienced things that would bring most couples to their knees. Granted, you've come through the other side, but not without some consequences, and long-lasting scars. Now, your eye tells me that everything isn't fine. I promise that whatever you tell me, stays between us and I'm not here to judge."

Sara searched his face, seeing nothing but complete understanding. She found herself floundering. The weight of pushing to prove Grissom's innocence along with the abandonment of her friends, people she had trusted, served as a heavy burden on her shoulders. She'd pushed through it, because if she hadn't Gil would still be facing a life sentence in prison. He was fortunate to have survived all the brutal beatings that he'd suffered. She couldn't allow herself, even now to fall apart. She had to remain strong for Daniel and Grissom's sake.

But perhaps, just for once, she could share the burden. In the end, Karson had been there for her, never giving up on finding the evidence to free her husband.

With a sigh, Sara made up her mind.

"After everything he suffered at Rory's hands, Gil has terrible nightmares," she explained. "They get really bad. For the last few nights he hadn't been sleeping with me at all. I figured it was because of the nightmares. But last night, after hearing that just… incredible news, I thought he would be OK. But he wasn't. He had never had a nightmare that bad. He woke up screaming, sweating and disorientated. Before I had chance to calm him, he lashed out. It was an accident."

"Has this ever happened before?"

Sara shook her head. "No. It's the first and only time. And he had never, ever raised his hand toward me. Ever. And I trust my husband that he would never raise his hand towards me. You have to believe me when I say that, Karson."

"I believe you."

Sara let out a cleansing breath. "You have no idea what it means to me to hear you say that. All this time, people who I thought loved, adored Gil Grissom were convinced he was violent."

Karson took a chair and placed it next to Sara's. "Tell me what happened last night."

"Like I said, he woke up terrified. He was convinced someone shot Daniel," Sara said. "He didn't even realize he hit me. Not until this morning. I tried to cover up my eye with makeup, but he knew immediately. When he saw what he'd done he was horrified."

Karson took a moment, to consider her words, before he nodded. There had been sincerity in her tone, and while he was still concerned he had no reason to doubt her. "You OK to work today?"

"I almost didn't come in because I didn't know if it was better to stick around with him, you know?" she said. "I did my best to reassure him. And even though he thinks the worst about himself now, I am hoping he can think this through. I'm still not sure I should have left him."

"It'll be tough for him to deal with his issues and emotions alone."

"That's true," Sara said. "I've been doing a lot of research on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and I did find an interesting therapy that they say is one of the best. I even called this nun in Florida about it."

Karson chucked. "You called a nun about PTSD? Like one in a habit?"

"Well, I saw her photo and she wasn't in a habit."

"So it was a religious sister."

"Karson, your Catholicism is showing," Sara teased, very much appreciating the levity.

"OK, so you called a religious sister about this therapy?"

"Yeah, I did," Sara said. "She actually works with first responders with post trauma and she had a lot of good advice. She even said she would try to find some information about therapists here using her connections. She even invited us for one of the retreats she runs."

"Sounds like a good source and for me personally, Sara, it makes me feel good that you are researching this," Karson said. "I just hope your husband is open to the idea."

"I think he would be after what happened," Sara said. "It's time I talked to him about it."

"As soon as possible," Karson said, looking at his slips. "Look, since you're here, why don't you take this robbery on South Fort Apache? Should be a no brainer for you."

"I know where it is," Sara cut him off with a smile. "It's a half hour walk from our house. We sometimes rent movies at the Redbox they have there." Sara eyed him knowingly. "You did this deliberately, didn't you?"

Karson smiled and held up his hands. "You caught me," he joked. "Maybe you can go check up on your husband on your way back to the lab," he suggested genially. "Everyone's entitled to a lunch hour."

"I'll probably have this done by 10."

"Then a brunch hour?"

The supervisor and CSI traded smiles and Sara was out the door.

Karson was returning to his office after passing out assignments to the rest of the team when he saw Nick Stokes walking towards him. He thought they might pass by each other but Nick stopped, prompting Karson to do the same.

"I was hoping to find you. Have a minute?" Nick asked, glancing over his shoulder and down the hallway.

"Yeah," Karson said. "What's up?"

"Kind of a private matter," Nick said.

"No one's in the break room and I could use coffee…"

"Yeah, OK."

Once in the break room, Karson grabbed his coffee mug and filled it. It was easy to see that Nick was eager to talk. "What's on your mind, Nick?"

"I'm worried about Sara," Nick said in a rush.

"Ah," Karson said sitting down. "The black eye?"

"You saw it?"

"I did," Karson replied taking a sip of his coffee.

"She told me, that she was hit by one of Dan's toys, but I know that's total BS."

"Well, I did talk to Sara about it," Karson stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well, I hope you didn't buy any line of crap she was trying to sell you," Nick said.

"Nick, what are you talking about?"

"It's rare, but when Grissom gets angry or loses his temper, you best find some cover, and quick." Nick bit his lip, his dark eyes betraying his concern for his friend. "You know, a few days before Jake died, Grissom had a bad run-in with Jake. He got so angry, I had this honest-to-God fear Grissom might take out his rage on Sara."

"Did you tell her your concern?"

"Yeah, and she laughed it off like I was nuts," Nick said. "Look, Grissom… he's one of the smartest men I've ever met, and I always thought he was Mr. Calm and Cool, but I saw Grissom take a swing at Jake. And I have seen him full of rage. That day Sara told me Grissom wouldn't dare hit her. But today she shows up with a black eye and she lies about it."

Karson leaned his elbows on the table. The words Sara had said to him played in his mind — how people she thought loved Grissom believed he could become violent enough to kill Jake. And here was one of those people thinking Grissom had abused Sara.

"Like I said Nick, I talked to Sara specifically about her black eye," Karson stated, leaning his elbows on the table. "It's true Grissom is responsible for the shiner, and Sara said it was a one-time thing that would never happen again."

"That son-of-a-bitch…" Nick started. "And she's covering for that bastard!"

"Now, wait a minute and hold up," the supervisor insisted in response to Nick's flash of anger. "Before you jump to conclusions and assume that you know the whole situation, you want to know what happened?"

"Does it matter?"

"I think so," Karson said. "It seems that since his attack, Grissom's been suffering from PTSD, and part of that means having terrible nightmares. That's what happened last night. Before Sara could stop it, he had lashed out and hit her. He had no idea he even struck Sara until he saw her eye this morning. She said he was filled with remorse even though she tried to reassure him it was accident..."

"And you believe her?" Nick interjected.

"Yes, actually, I do," Karson was firm on the matter. "You've seen the crime scene photos, Nick. You saw the video. Is it really so surprising he'd be experiencing night terrors?"

"No, I mean… yeah, it makes sense but… if that was the case… why didn't she just say that to me?"

Karson looked at Nick critically. He didn't have to answer that question because Nick was slowly coming to the realization Sara didn't share that with him because she didn't trust how he'd react.

And seeing the way he was talking to Karson, could Nick really blame her?

"Like I said, I trust what Sara told me," Karson finally said.

"Yeah, but what if he does this to her again?"

"I'll keep a discreet eye on Sara, and make sure she's OK. I think she trusts my discretion enough to come to me if there is a problem. She's already looking to get her husband some counseling. And right now, I think Grissom could use support, not judgments," Karson said as he stood to leave. "And if you want to mend bridges with Sara, you might want to exhibit that same philosophy with her."

Sara glanced quickly at her watch as she loaded her kit and the bags of evidence into the back of the SUV. 10:15. She was fifteen minutes off.

Since she was close to home, she took Karson's suggestion to visit Grissom and make sure he was OK. Hopefully by now, he would have had time to cool down and think things over. She was tempted to call him, but then thought better of it. She'd keep it a surprise. She could even pick up a bite to eat on the way. Her stomach growled, and she chuckled quietly to herself. Guess that's decided then, she thought to herself.

Because of its proximity to her crime scene, Sara opted for the Jamba Juice bar located on West Sahara Avenue.

Around twenty minutes later, she was parking up in front of their house. Grabbing the brown paper bags containing two three-cheese sandwiches and two apple cinnamon pretzels, she balanced the smoothies — mango for her and strawberry for Gil — on the hood of the SUV while she locked up. She stuffed her purse under her arm, and carried her goodies into the house.

The first thing that struck her was the eerie silence of the house as she entered. Panic swelled briefly in her chest before she figured that it was possible that Gil was napping upstairs. She headed towards the kitchen and put the food aside.

It was then the silence was broken. She thought she heard a soft calling of her name. Thinking it was coming from upstairs, she made her way to the staircase.

She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight that greeted her, and her blood ran cold. Grissom's body was strewn at the bottom of the staircase. He left leg was painfully twisted, bent, misshapen and lodged in between two banister pillars.

She rushed forward, shouting her husband's name.