A/N: Another fantastic chapter by co-writer JellybeanChiChi.

CHAPTER 67

Holding her husband's hand as they sat together on the couch, Sara listened to what happened at the park. She said nothing but her brow creased with worry and empathetic pain for Grissom. She noticed that he had changed his shirt and pants, and cleaned up somewhat. But there was nothing to wash away the evidence of his physical injuries.

After he was done, she was silent. She rubbed at her eyes and then excused herself. While Grissom thought she might retreat to the bathroom or their bedroom, she came back almost immediately with a bag from the "Doggie Door."

Although Grissom hoped she might sit back down with him, she got on her knees and called, in a slightly sad voice, "Hank. Come here, boy."

The dog got right up to Sara, who cradled his head and kissed the top of it. "I love you so much, Hank," tears streaming down her face. "You're such a good boy."

For his part, Hank showed his affection with slobbery kisses that made Sara chuckle ever so slightly. It was an interaction that made Grissom both shed a tear and curl his lips into a smile.

After licking Sara what Hank deemed an appropriate amount of time, he became extremely interested in the package.

"He seems to recognize the bag" Grissom said.

She turned to face him and shrugged shyly. "We've passed by the place a few times." There were more than a few nights when Grissom was in jail that Sara found solace in curling up on the couch with the puppy, the only one she could talk to without any judgment. And when that happened, she would say thank you with a Doggie Bag treat.

"I bet you know what this is," she said, earning a bark. She took out a treat, and he quickly lapped it out of her hand. "I wish I got four times as much."

She went to get off her knees and found Grissom standing to take her hand and help her up. She took it, and then once upright put her arms around his torso. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, sweetheart."

"The way you tell the story, it just… it happened so fast," Sara said as she guided them both back to the couch.

"I felt like I didn't have time to panic. I guess I did afterwards," he said. "At least when he was hitting me, I knew he was nowhere near Daniel. I just wanted him away from Daniel."

"Are you sure we shouldn't get you to the doctor?"

Grissom shrugged. "Sara, I've been beat up much worse than this."

"Sweetheart, it shouldn't be a contest of how much of a beating your body can take. If you need to see a doctor, you need to see a doctor."

"I saw a doctor. Al was here already. You can ask Jim. He said as long as I take it easy and be honest about any other symptoms — headaches, dizziness, fatigue, blurry vision — I should be OK."

"And I can trust you on that?"

"Sara, I've already ruined today and so many days before this for you and Daniel and Hank. I will be honest with you, but don't let the beating worry you."

She wanted to shake him silly about that comment, but something about his attitude stopped her. It was almost like the attack, while a surprise, was second nature. He was almost flippant about it — more worried about how it affected her than him. "Do you need help with a shower?"

"I washed a little bit already. I'll take a shower later," Grissom said. "I wish I didn't ruin your day."

"It wasn't ruined. You're safe, so that's the most important thing."

"But you had fun, right?"

"Yes, babe. It was a fun day."

"Until you came home… to this," he said pointing angrily to his face. "So stupid of me."

"Stop that," she said. "You're mixing up anger with sadness and concern and love." While her words were honest, he shook his head. She put her thumb under his chin. "Hey. I was proud of you when I got that text you were going to the park. That was one of the best parts of my morning."

"Why?"

"Because that was a huge step for you. Getting out. Among people. Not to mention taking out a toddler and a beast puppy… excuse me… hero beast puppy… it's a big production."

He smiled for a split second before getting serious again. "Made me think how hard it was for you when I was in prison, then the hospital and rehab."

"Sometimes it was, but … that's OK." She grabbed his hand again and stood up. "Maybe we should find Jim before Daniel escapes with his car keys."

She hoped he would laugh, but he stayed solemn. Yet, he went with her to find the duo who were in the kitchen. Daniel was in his high chair drinking from a sippy cup and munching on a variety of crackers Brass found in the pantry. He seemed content as Brass finished a call on his cellphone.

Sara picked up the sippy cup as Brass ended the call. She sniffed it and took a small swig. "Not scotch. I'm impressed, Jim."

"Ha ha. Like I would waste scotch on him. I'm not an idiot," Brass countered. "So, I just got off the phone with a buddy at PD. Seems like Mr. Beck was headed back to prison."

The comment raised Sara's eyebrows, but when she went to look at Grissom, he was sitting down across from Daniel completely disinterested in the comment. "How long was he out of prison?" Sara asked as she sat down.

"A week," Grissom said flatly.

"Yeah, and he was involved in an armed robbery a day after his release," Brass continued. "There was a warrant for his arrest and PD had already closed in on his associates who were talking about the guy's whereabouts."

"So attacking Gil was like a last hurrah for this guy?"

"He wanted more cred from Tait and Loki."

That flat, matter-of-fact, again, almost flippant tone Grissom employed as he said the comment sans eye contact didn't sit well with Sara.

"Who's Loki?" Jim asked. "And what kind of name is Loki?"

"It's from Norse mythology," Grissom countered. "He was the prisoner who had the run of the cell block. He gave Tait and some of his men permission to beat the shit out of me in my cell. He sat on my bunk and watched while they pummeled me. He told them when to stop. I think. I blacked out, I think for two days. Woke up in the infirmary. Hate that guy. Whenever he was close, there was the inevitable gut punch or leg sweep from one of his goons."

Both Jim and Sara faces blanched at the comment. Grissom had never gone into much detail about his time. "I'm guessing Beck was one of his nameless goons?"

"Yeah. I guess that's why he said Tait and Loki say hi when he was punching me in the park."

The trio sat silent and nausea hit Sara hard. But she didn't want Grissom to think he couldn't share, so she tried to think of a way to leave the room. Fortunately, Daniel gave her an out.

"I think he needs a change," Sara said, as she took the tray off his high chair. "Which reminds me… I forgot to take the groceries out of the car."

"I'll take him upstairs," Grissom said as he took his son. "He really didn't nap much. Maybe I'll put him in the tub. Might help him sleep."

"OK, I'll help…"

"Get the groceries all done first."

"You sure? Your shoulder…"

"Is fine," Grissom said.

"Hey, he's willing to take stinko off your hands, Sara," Brass said, trying to ease the tension. "How 'bout I help you get the stuff out of the car, then I'll head out."

"Thanks again for everything, Jim," Grissom said, trying to get a free hand out to shake his hand but not being too successful.

Grateful for the gesture, Brass gave his friend a warm pat on his good shoulder. "I'm glad you called. Anytime you need anything, I'm a phone call away."

Grissom nodded and took Daniel upstairs, while Brass followed Sara to the garage. Once they were by the car, Brass put his arm around Sara. "You OK?"

Sara slumped slightly, and leaned a little on Brass. "This is all … just so… unbelievable. I don't know if we can take more of this."

"I'm sorry, kid. I wish I knew what else to say?"

She turned around, and swiped at her eyes. "Did he seem… different to you… like, he didn't care that he was attacked in broad daylight?"

Brass shook his head. "By the time I got there, a paramedic was just finishing with him. And by the way, ask him about that. But he seemed pretty pissed about the officer who talked to him at the scene. And when I talked to that guy, he said Grissom had a bad attitude."

"What?" Sara said incredulously. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means the guy was an officer who heard nothing past the description that Gil came across that guy in prison."

"Oh, so you mean he's a judgmental prick."

"On the surface, I can see thinking something along those lines of prisoner-on-prisoner violence…" Brass began seeing Sara roll her eyes. "Give me a chance… at first blush I would, but knowing the venue of the attack, seeing the quick brutality… There was no reason to harbor that attitude beyond the first blush."

Sara shook her head and went to get some bags out of the car. "Gil didn't deserve that."

"No, he didn't," Brass said, as he took bags from her. "And I let the officer know that without mincing words. He's not going to come around for a statement. I told them if they need anything, I would get it."

"Thank you," said as she walked back into the kitchen.

They both started putting stuff away. After they did, Brass was ready to go. "Wait a second," Sara said. "What did you mean ask him ask him about the paramedic?"

"Talk to him. I know you're worried, but you might be the only person he might open up to."

"He doesn't always share with me," Sara replied sadly. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Keep trying. Be patient," Brass said sympathetically. "He trusts you more than anyone, Sara. And I can see why. Just remember that, OK?"