AN: Next installment in this little series. This ficlet takes place in the same universe as my longer piece, "To listen in the silence", where Brass found out about GSR during the season 6 episode "Way to Go", just in case anyone's wondering about Brass' part in this! Hope you like it – let me know

Thanks to AM0616/unc-annie for the beta help!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI

Burn Out

He's so focused on shutting out the noise of the precinct, he doesn't realize he's no longer alone until he feels cool, gentle fingers against his forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Sara whispers, close enough he can feel her words against his face, and he turns instinctively towards her.

"Hurts," Grissom mumbles, and she sighs.

"I know, I'm sorry."

She disappears, and he forces his eyes open to see what she's doing, but she's back before he can focus, carefully setting down a chair next to where he's laid out on the couch. Then both her hands are on him, thumbs rubbing at his temples and fingers making small circles against his scalp, and he sinks back against the uncomfortable cushions.

They're both quiet until he finally feels a tiny bit of relief from her ministrations, enough to open his eyes without feeling like he's going to throw up. When he remembers where they are, he frowns. "Someone could come in," he says weakly, noticing that she must have closed the blinds the rest of the way, because the room is almost completely dark.

"Jim's just outside," she tells him with a smile. "He said he'd keep a look-out, but also that dayshift's started and the noise level is only going to get worse, so we should probably try to get you home."

He closes his eyes again and sighs at the thought of the walk through the precinct and then the drive through the too-loud, too-bright city.

"I got your meds and glasses," she continues. "Take the meds and give it a half-hour or so. I'll bring the car around back since it's closer, Jim'll help you, OK?"

He wants to protest, say he wants to go with her, but he knows they need to keep their distance. "OK," he says instead.

He hears the seal of a bottle break and pushes himself up enough to be able to swallow the pills, washing them down with a few mouthfuls of water. She presses the case with his migraine glasses into his hand, and only then does he remember that he took the last pills he had in his office during his last attack months ago, and he always forgets to take the glasses with him.

"You went home?" he asks, frowning at her, which makes her smile, for some reason.

"You've been in here a while."

He figured as much – time's a little hazy, but he knows there was over an hour left of shift when he snuck away, so if days has already started, it must have been at least that long.

He groans at another pulse of pain, and she gently pushes him back down before picking up her earlier massage. He closes his eyes again, lets his mind go blank, focusing only on her touch.

He's not sure how long it takes, but eventually, the pain starts to dull.

"Think you can get to the car?" Sara asks.

"How could you tell?" he asks instead of replying.

She huffs a quiet laugh. "You're breathing easier."

Of course she would pick up on a small change like that.

"All you, my dear."

"I don't think we can completely disregard modern medicine, but thank you." He feels her lips press against his forehead briefly and opens his eyes in time to see her straighten up. "I'll go get the car."

He nods and she slips out the door, says a few words to Jim, and then disappears down the corridor.

"You doing better?" Jim asks as he enters the office.

Grissom winces a little at his loud voice. "Good enough to make it to the car, I hope."

He takes his time getting to his feet, putting the glasses on when he's upright.

"What are those?" Jim asks.

"Migraine glasses," he explains. "Sara found them a while ago, figured it was worth a shot."

"Do they work?"

He shrugs, which he immediately regrets when it makes his head throb. "Haven't needed to try them yet, so I guess we'll see."

"No time like the present. Come on."

Jim stays behind him, one hand on his shoulder, guiding him down the corridors. The fluorescent lights are still painful, but not nearly as bad as when he escaped into the dark office, and soon enough, they reach the back exit.

The sun has risen by now, but to his great relief, it's a cloudy day. Sara's idling by the curb, and he offers Jim a quick thanks before climbing into the passenger seat.

"OK?" she asks before putting the car in gear and pulling away.

"OK."

He leans back against the headrest and closes his eyes as she drives, and he might even doze off a little, because it feels like only minutes before she's turning the engine off again.

He lets her come around and open the door, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she tugs him along towards the house. When they get inside, he realizes all the blinds are closed, all the lights turned off.

"Where's Hank?" he asks after a moment, realizing the boxer is nowhere to be seen.

"I took him for a quick walk and shut him in the office," Sara replies. "He'll be fine for a while."

"Hmm."

The covers are already pulled back when they get to the bedroom, the blackout curtains drawn.

"Do you want a shower? Something to eat? Or just sleep?"

He sinks onto the bed, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt until she pushes his hands away and gets them undone. "Just sleep."

"OK." She gets his shirt and undershirt off before moving to his belt. He stands to be able to push his pants down, then sits back down as she removes his shoes and pulls the pants the rest of the way off.

He removes his glasses and puts them on the bedside table, spotting a glass of water already there, along with two more pills and a protein bar. A lump forms in his throat and he wraps his arms around Sara's waist, burying his face against her stomach.

"What would I do without you?"

She's caught off guard for a moment but then runs her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. "You'd be fine."

He leans back to be able to look at her. "No, I wouldn't. I…"

He's always had trouble finding words, and even though he's gotten better – at least with her – in the last few years, there are still moments when they just won't come.

"I know," she assures him, leaning down for a kiss. "Get in bed, I'll be right back."

He lets her go and slides under the covers, letting out a long breath as his head hits the cool pillow. He hears Sara move around in the bathroom for a moment, then feels the bed shift as she gets in next to him.

Most of the time, they go to sleep with her head on his chest or him wrapped around her from behind, but today, she gets a few pillows arranged against the headboard and settles in so he can rest his head against her stomach.

"Will you be able to sleep?"

She just nods, pulling the covers up around him. "Sleep."

So he closes his eyes and lets the rise and fall of her breaths lull him to sleep.