AN: Happy New Year everyone! Hope the new year brings you joy. As for Grissom and Sara, their story is looking up after Sara's been rescued, but they still have some ways to go, so let's get back to the story!

Thanks to WalkerTRngr for the beta help!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI

Warning: Touching on some heavy subjects in this one, just FYI!

Chapter 8

Sara's just settled back into bed with her food in front of her when there's a knock on the door, and she frowns. Why would Grissom knock? Maybe he's worried the nurse isn't done yet and doesn't want to barge in…

"Come in," she calls before taking a sip of apple juice.

To her surprise, when the door opens, it's not Grissom, but Catherine, who steps into the room.

"Hey," she says with a smile. "How're you doing?"

Sara shrugs. "I'm OK. Did Grissom have to leave?"

For some reason, she feels her heart start beating faster. He said he'd be back, but maybe he got called away? She can't expect him to just sit around her hospital room all day. Blinking rapidly, she tries to force down the panic building in her chest. It's not like she's alone, Catherine's here, and the officer outside, and a whole hospital full of staff. But…

"No, no, he's just outside," Catherine assures her. Maybe she senses the start of what must be some sort of panic attack, because she crosses the room and squeezes Sara's hand. "He just needed to talk to Jim."

"Oh, OK."

"And I decided to take the opportunity to check in with you." The slight discomfort is evident on her face. "Did Grissom tell you that Sofia was here to… gather evidence?"

"Sofia?"

"Curtis, from dayshift."

The surname brings a vague image of a woman to Sara's mind. "No, he didn't. I asked a little about how you found me, but he didn't seem to want to talk too much about the case."

Catherine sighs. "Yeah, I'm not surprised, the last few days haven't been easy. Sorry, I know whatever all of us were going through is nothing compared to, well… but Gil was… he was a bit of a mess, to be honest."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So, Sofia was here earlier, before you woke up, but she didn't do an SAE kit. She said she wanted to wait until you were awake."

The sense of panic returns and Sara closes her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe slowly to push it back down. Catherine is quiet, rubbing her hand, until she opens her eyes again.

"OK?" she asks quietly and Sara nods.

"I just… it's hard to think about."

"I know, and I'm sorry I have to do this, but… we need everything we can get to put him away."

"Yeah."

"So, it's up to you how you want to do this," Catherine starts gently. "If you want me to do it, I have everything I need, we can get it out of the way right now. If not, I can call Sofia and ask her to come back, or I can get one of the nurses, if you prefer that."

The idea of some stranger… no.

"I want you to do it."

"Are you sure?"

Sara just nods.

-CSI-

By the time Catherine returns to the waiting room, Grissom is pacing, wondering what's taking so long.

"Hey," she greets him with a sigh. "We're all done."

"She wanted you to…"

"Yeah. And I know we're not supposed to be involved with the case, but… I'll hand off the kit, I won't process or anything."

Hopefully, that'll be good enough for Cavallo and the DA.

"Good."

Part of him wants to ask, but he knows that if there was no need for a kit, Sara would have said so. Actually, she would have told the doctor earlier, when he talked about the PrEP treatment.

"I'll head out then," Catherine says. "Warrick just texted and said they're grabbing lunch at Frank's, so I'll join them and let them know Sara's doing OK. I assume I can't convince you to come with me?"

"Sorry, no, I promised Sara I'd be back soon. It's already been longer than I was planning."

"OK." Catherine scrutinizes him for a moment. "Just make sure to eat something, OK?"

Grissom offers a smile. "I will, I promise."

"Good."

-CSI-

The macaroni and cheese is mostly cold by the time she actually starts eating, and more than a little bland, so Sara's picking at it, the plate still almost full, when the door opens and Grissom returns. She feels relief flood through her whole body at the sight of him – Catherine did say that he was still here, but even so, she hadn't been sure.

"Hey, get any good food?" he asks lightly as he crosses the room and reclaims the chair.

She lifts one shoulder in a shrug, pushing the pasta around the plate. "It's OK, nothing to write home about."

"Well, you need to eat… do you want me to go get you something else?" he offers. "I don't know what the cafeteria might offer, but…"

"No, I'm fine," she assures him, touched by the gesture. She takes a bite to prove the point, but can't quite hold back the grimace at the cold food.

"No, seriously," Grissom insists. "Actually, Catherine just told me she and the guys were going to Frank's and reminded me that I need to eat too – why don't I call her and ask her to pick something up for both of us?"

"Are you sure?" Frank's sounds about a thousand times better than this stuff, but she doesn't want to put anyone out.

He levels her with a look. "Yes. What are you in the mood for?"

Sara considers for a moment. "Pancakes? And scrambled eggs?"

"You got it." He pulls his phone out of his pocket and waits until someone picks up. "Hi, Catherine, I was wondering if you would mind picking up some food for us? Hospital cuisine, you know… great, thanks… pancakes and scrambled eggs for Sara and… a couple of fruit cups too, the ones with cantaloupe and strawberries. And a tuna salad sandwich for me… yeah, get coffee and some juice for both of us too, thanks. Oh, also… hang on a moment." He covers the phone with his hand. "Do you have any spare clothes in your locker?"

Surprised, and touched that he thought about it, she nods. "Yeah, there's a duffel with a change of clothes. The combination's 8-3-1."

"One more request, Catherine – can you stop by the lab and grab the duffel in Sara's locker? It's got a change of clothes. The combination is 8-3-1… thanks a lot."

She offers him a grateful smile as he hangs up. "I didn't even think about clothes, thanks."

"Of course." He glances at her plate. "You want me to get rid of that?"

"That would be great."

He stands again, removing the glass of apple juice and putting it on the table before grabbing the tray and disappearing into the hallway with it. He returns a moment later, empty handed.

"Did you talk to Brass?"

Grissom nods as he crosses the room to her. "I did. Not that he had much to say, I'm afraid."

"They haven't found him?"

"No," he confirms, seemingly reluctantly. "But they will, so I don't want you worrying, OK?"

She's sure he knows she still will, so she doesn't bother saying it. "So, you think he's hiding out somewhere?"

"Most likely." He leans back in the chair, letting out a long breath. "We have an arrest warrant and an APB out, it's only a matter of time before someone spots him. And he's not getting anywhere near you again, OK? There's an officer outside the door, and we will not leave you on your own once you're discharged from here. I know it's a lot to ask, but can you just… try to not worry?"

The pleading look in his eyes makes Sara melt, just a little. "OK, I'll try. But…"

"What?"

"I need some sort of distraction. I can't just… lie here and try not to think about it."

Grissom frowns. "Well… why don't I go down to the gift shop and see if they have something that might help? A deck of cards or something."

"I'm not playing poker with you," she replies immediately.

"We can play something else."

Which is why Greg, who's apparently tasked with dropping their food off, finds them playing rummy when he arrives an hour or so later.

"Hey, should the patient be getting all excited?" he asks, half serious, as Sara triumphantly lays down a meld.

"It's better than being bored out of my mind," she retorts, smiling at him. "Thanks for bringing the food, Greggo."

He shrugs a little uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes. "It was the least I could do."

She glances at Grissom, who shakes his head as he gathers up the cards, indicating he doesn't know what's up with the younger man. Sara thinks she might have an idea, though.

"Hey, Greg?" She waits until he looks up. "Come here."

Hesitantly, he comes closer, putting the food down on the table they were using for their card game. When he's close enough, Sara reaches for his hand and pulls him into a hug. He seems reluctant at first, but then his arms wrap around her, and he buries his face in her hair.

She hears the scraping of Grissom's chair against the floor, and then the door opening and closing quietly, indicating he's giving them a moment.

She lets Greg be the one to end the embrace and looks away while he surreptitiously wipes at his eyes.

"I'm OK," she tells him when he turns back to her. "Really."

"I was so scared, I thought he would…"

"Hey, stop," she interrupts him, because he doesn't need to say it any more than she needs to hear it. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he says with a shake of the head.

She considers objecting, but deep down, she knows that he's right. "OK, no, I'm not. But I will be."

Greg nods thoughtfully. "You know I'm here, right? If you need anything."

"I know," she assures him, squeezing his hand.

"Good. Well, I should let you eat before your food gets cold, and probably get home and get some sleep."

"Yeah, you do that."

He leans in for another brief hug. "I'll send Grissom back in. Oh, and I drove his car over, it's parked in the lot by the main entrance. Nick's waiting to take me home." He holds out a set of car keys and she accepts them.

"Thanks."

Sara unpacks their lunch while she waits, and when Grissom returns, she has his sandwich and drinks, along with his car keys, set up on the edge of the table nearest his chair, and is savoring a long, delicious drink of her own coffee.

He gives her an amused look. "You'd think it's been weeks since you had any coffee," he notes lightly, before his eyes widen. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"Stop," she says, holding up a hand. "I don't want you to tiptoe around me worrying that something you say will, I don't know, set me off. I assume Brass'll need to get my statement at some point, we need to be able to talk about this without you trying to… shield me or anything."

Grissom just stares at her for a long moment, and then his shoulders slump forward a little and he nods. "I know, I'm sorry. I just… I can barely think about it and not want to find that son of a bitch and rip his throat out, how can you…"

"Come on, come sit down," Sara instructs, nodding at the chair. She waits until he's sitting before she continues. "Look, I don't want to think about it. I want to put it behind me and try to move on. But I'm not going to snap if you say the wrong thing, so please stop worrying about that, OK?"

She knows this is far from over, knows there will be flashbacks and nightmares and panic attacks as she works through the trauma. For the moment, though, she feels safe, and she knows it's not due to the cop guarding the door.

Grissom offers her a half-smile. "I'll try."

-CSI-

After their lunch – he's pleased so see Sara finishing all of her pancakes and scrambled eggs, and one of the fruit cups, insisting he have the other – they spend another hour playing cards, switching from rummy to something Sara calls war, with rules that he cannot make head or tails off.

"OK, I'm done," Grissom exclaims after losing yet another hand. "I have a sneaking suspicion that you, Miss Sidle, are changing the rules to suit your cards."

She shoots him a mischievous glance. "I would never."

"Of course not," he replies with a snort, before hiding a huge yawn behind a hand.

"You should go home and get some sleep," Sara tells him, but he can hear the reluctance in her voice. "You don't have to keep me entertained all day."

"I'm fine," he tells her, earning a raised eyebrow.

"When was the last time you slept?"

He shrugs. "I caught a few hours in my office yesterday."

"Seriously, go home. I'll be fine."

She looks away from him as she says it, but her entire body language contradicts her words.

"Sorry, you're not getting rid of me that easily," Grissom replies, keeping his tone light. "I'll stay until they kick me out, or until they discharge you, whichever happens first."

The mention of being discharged makes her frown. "Did they say anything about how long they were going to keep me here?"

He shakes his head. "No, nothing. But the nurse should be in soon, why don't you ask?"

As if summoned by him, the door opens and Nurse Grant enters the room. She raises an eyebrow at the take-out bag with their trash. "I take it our food offerings were not to the lady's liking," she says, voice teasing, as she crosses the room to the IV pole.

"I'm sorry," Sara apologizes. "It wasn't your fault, by the time I finally got around to eating, it was cold."

"Hey, I don't blame you." The nurse winks at her. "The important thing is that you eat so you get your strength back and can go home."

Sara glances at him. "Speaking of going home… do you know how long they're planning on keeping me here?"

The nurse frowns. "Doctor Havers hasn't said anything, but I'll go check with him, OK?"

"Thanks." Sara turns back to him as the nurse leaves again. "So, what else is in your little bag of tricks?"

With a smile, Grissom finds the bag from the gift shop and extracts his other purchases. "For you," he says, holding out a puzzle book. Sara snags it out of his hand immediately.

"Thanks."

He hands her one of the pens before finding his own book of crossword puzzles and the other pen.

They stay busy with their respective puzzles for the next half hour or so, until Doctor Havers enters the room.

"I hear someone's eager to go home?" he says with a smile.

"Yes, please," Sara replies.

"Well, we're still a little worried about the drug you were given this morning," he tells her. "So ideally, I would like to keep you until tomorrow."

"I feel fine!" she insists. "Headache's gone, and I don't feel dizzy or anything like that. Please."

"Hmm… well, if I discharge you, I don't want you to be on your own, at least not tonight."

Grissom decides to step in. "I can assure you, doctor, that we have no plans of leaving her alone until the kidnapper has been apprehended."

Doctor Havers nods thoughtfully at the words. "OK, in that case, I'll get the release papers. But someone needs to be with her tonight, to make sure there are no negative effects."

"I'll make sure of that myself, thank you."

"OK then."

Grissom can see the relief in Sara's entire body when the doctor leaves. "Thank you," she says.

"I'm just being selfish," he half-jokes. "This chair isn't very comfortable; I'd much rather be at home too."

"I did tell you to go home," she reminds him. "It's already almost three, and I'm sure this'll take a while, you won't be able to get a lot of sleep before work tonight."

"No work," he replies. "Cavallo gave all of us off until Monday."

"That was nice of him."

"So stop worrying about me getting sleep, OK?"

Sara rolls her eyes, but there's a smile playing around her lips. "Fine, I'll just stop caring."

-CSI-

As Sara suspects, it's another hour before she's finally released, with a list of symptoms to watch out for, a brochure for victims of sexual assault and the number to a therapist specializing in that type of trauma, another brochure about different STDs and instructions for when to get tested for each one, and her PrEP tablets.

The perfect start to a Friday evening.

She's relieved to get out of there, of course, but still grumbles as Grissom steers the wheelchair Nurse Grant insisted on towards the exit.

"It's hospital policy," he tries to placate her. "I know you're stubborn, but I have a feeling you've got nothing on Nurse Grant."

He probably has a point, which is why she gave up after arguing for only a few minutes.

"Since we don't know how long it'll be before we… before he's apprehended, we should probably stop by your place so you can pack a bag for a few days," he says when they're pulling out of the parking lot.

Sara's about to call him on avoiding mentioning Lurie's name, but then the rest of his statement registers and she frowns. "Where am I going?"

"Well, you're not going to be on your own until we've got him," he replies, glancing at her. "Especially not tonight, you heard the doctor. I figured you can stay with me, but if you'd rather be at home, I can stay at your place."

He did say that he'd make sure she wasn't alone tonight, but she didn't realize what he meant by that.

"Um, I don't have a guest room, and I don't think you want to sleep on my couch," she says when she's processed. "So it's probably better if I stay at your place."

"Good. I also don't have a lot of food in the house, so we should probably do a little grocery shopping, if you don't mind."

The domesticity of the suggestion is a dangerous road to go down, so she tries not to. "Sure, that's fine."

Grissom parks when they get to her building, instead of just leaving the engine running, and gets out of the car with her. It's a little cute that he doesn't want to let her out of his sight, but she has a feeling it'll get old fast if he keeps it up. Still, she doesn't comment as they ride the elevator up to her apartment.

He waits in the living room while she goes into the bedroom to pack. She stuffs some clothes into a bag along with her phone charger and then goes into the bathroom to grab enough toiletries for a few days. When she returns to the bedroom she freezes, feeling her heart rate pick up.

"Grissom?"

"Yeah?" he replies, appearing in the doorway.

"My purse is missing; I think Lurie's been here. My keys were in the pocket on my tights, he must have taken them and…"

"Hey!" he interrupts her, taking a few steps closer. His fingers close around her upper arms, and for a moment, she thinks he's going to shake her. She didn't think she was panicking quite that bad, but maybe she was. But he just rubs her arms. "Your purse is at the lab – when you didn't show up for shift on Wednesday, Warrick and I came here to see if… if something had happened. We brought your purse back with us in case there was a clue somewhere."

"Oh, OK." Sara exhales, slumping a little, and before she has a chance to react, he's pulled her closer and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you before we got here," he apologizes.

"No, it's fine, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," she replies. "I don't know why I started to panic."

"I think it's only to be expected that you're a little on edge right now," he reasons, pulling back. "Please don't try to hide or downplay it, OK?"

"OK." She nods, reaching for the packed bag, and he guides her out of the bedroom with a hand on the small of her back.

"Do you need anything from your purse?" Grissom asks in the elevator down.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind having my driver's license and credit cards," she says with a shrug. "But I don't really need them right this minute."

"Good. I don't think they're evidence, but I'm not actually sure."

"OK. Oh, did you find my cell phone?" she asks. "I had it when I… when I left the other night."

He frowns at her question. "I don't actually know, I'm sorry. Dayshift processed the house, I was only there for a little while before I rode back with you in the ambulance."

Sara hadn't realized that he came with her in the ambulance. Knowing that he was with her the whole time is calming, somehow, even after the fact.

"Do you want me to call Conrad and ask about your phone?"

She considers saying no, but she feels a little naked without it, as much as she hates to admit it. "I can talk to him, if you would rather avoid it," she offers, knowing how well the two of them get along.

The elevator reaches the bottom floor, and Grissom raises an arm to prevent the doors from closing before gesturing her out ahead of him.

"I think you've been through enough in the last few days, no need to add Conrad to the mix," he says with a half-smile, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Conrad? I was wondering if you found Sara's phone at the house out in Coyote Springs? You did? Can we stop by and pick it up, along with her purse, or do you need to keep them as evidence? Yeah, we just left the hospital a little while ago… Oh, good, then we'll stop by in… fifteen minutes, maybe… Great, thanks."

"They found it?" Sara asks as he hangs up, and he nods.

"They did, and they've processed what they need, so you can have them back." He opens the passenger door for her. "Shall we?"

"We shall."