Lucidity
Summary: Moments of clarity come under the strangest circumstances. G/S.
A/N: The scene I wish we would have gotten at the end of "Grave Danger". Obviously, spoilers for the season finale. Thanks to Burked and Ann for the quick beta, but I'm keeping any mistakes for myself.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; I just like to borrow them on occasion.

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Sara walked towards Grissom's door with a determined stride, but internally, she wondered what she was doing here. This was his home. He never asked anyone to visit; she doubted an uninvited guest would receive a warm reception. But something was wrong, and concern overrode her discomfort.

After Nick's rescue, she'd volunteered to dive into the cases that had been sidelined while they tracked down his burial location. Her nervous energy had yet to die off, and Sara knew how vividly she'd be reliving the haunting images in her nightmares. Shortly into her work, she came across a cryptic note Grissom had left, and she had been unable to decipher it.

She'd started to leave him a message at home, but almost immediately after she said "I need your help", he'd answered, his voice coming in uneven pants. Even after she told him it was nothing serious, Sara had sworn there was a rare, emotional edge to his tone as he explained his notes.

Reaching up to knock on his townhouse door, she hesitated for a moment. Maybe his own bad dreams had been interrupted by her call, or he'd been in the shower. There were rational reasons to explain his behavior. But she couldn't get the explosion out of her mind. Grissom had refused to go to the hospital, unwilling to stop until Nick was safe, and Sara knew symptoms of head injuries didn't always manifest immediately.

She knocked and took a quick step back. Waiting impatiently for him to open, she listened for any sounds coming from within. Was he hurt or asleep? Did she need to call an ambulance or come up with an excuse for her visit?

"Hey, Grissom. How's your brain doing? Having any hallucinations?" she muttered under her breath, lifting her hand to the door again. Before she could rap, he opened it, his head slowly dipping to the side as he stared at her.

"Hey," she said, deciding to keep to the basics.

"Sara."

She shifted nervously. He didn't seem upset that she was there, but his manner showed something was wrong. "Yeah. Did I wake you?"

"No."

She titled her head, trying to examine him discreetly. A few scratches and some bruising were evident, but it was his intense stare that bothered her. It was something he rarely did, and never for this extended amount of time. He'd yet to ask why she was on his doorstep, or to ask her in. Crossing her arms, she gave him a quick smile.

"Can I come in?" she finally asked.

"If you want."

Sara followed him into his home, and she frowned as she watched him slowly retreat into his darkened living room. It made sense that he'd be sore after the explosion; he was probably bruised all over or had several pulled muscles. She hoped that was the extent of the damage.

"Is everything okay?" Sara asked softly.

"Has it ever been?"

His mysterious response caused her to hiss in a slow breath. Stepping softly, Sara walked first to his side, then gently moved in front of him. In the dark, she had a hard time making his features out clearly, let alone trying to see his pupils.

"How do you feel?" she tried.

"I don't feel anything. You said that yourself. Don't you remember?"

"I remember. I, uh, yeah." Sara dropped her eyes as she considered her next step. Why was he bringing up a comment she made years ago when a case got to her? Grissom's eyes had bored into her with an uncomfortable intensity. Something was wrong, but what? His responses were unusual, but his voice was clear.

When he started to turn, she reached out and touched his arm. His eyes snapped first to her hand, and then back to burn into her. She let go quickly, hoping she hadn't crossed into some forbidden zone.

"I wanted to check up on you," she said, forcing a smile. "Everything was so hectic, and I didn't get a chance to see you after the explosion."

"You're concerned. That's nice."

"No. I'm worried," Sara quipped, rolling her eyes in annoyance when her attempt at a joke failed. Grissom had merely cocked his head briefly at her before walking away. Now what? "Did you ever go to see a doctor?"

He paused, gradually turning back to her. "Is that why you're here?"

"I am worried."

Grissom smiled, but it seemed sad. The lack of light made it hard to tell. Sara frowned again; wasn't aversion to light a sign of something? He wasn't acting like his normal self. Her scowl deepened; he'd been uncharacteristically open earlier. Was that part of a larger pattern?

"You don't have to be. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thanks. Grissom," she called out when he headed to the kitchen. So much for being subtle; it wasn't her style in any case. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer immediately, but went to his refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water, not reacting when she flipped on the overhead lights. With a thoughtful expression, he sipped slowly, before setting the bottle on the counter.

"Have you ever had a moment of total clarity?"

"No, I don't think so," she answered, his calm manner doing nothing to help her anxiety.

"I did. Today."

"That's … nice."

"No," he laughed humorlessly, "it wasn't. It was very unpleasant."

Crossing her arms, Sara leaned against the counter. Watching Nick suffer had been hell; most of the team had taken turns with short stints manning the monitor. It had been too painful to watch helplessly for any length of time. But Grissom had maintained his vigil for extended periods. He'd been the one to climb into the grave, to calm Nick while they tried to devise a means of extracting him that wouldn't kill everyone.

"Nick's going to be okay," she told him kindly. "The doctors said he'll be home soon. His folks are staying around to look after him when he gets out of the hospital. He's a strong guy. He'll get through this."

"I never doubted that."

"Oh," she said, drumming her fingers against her arm. That wasn't the problem, but what was? Letting out a small sigh, she dipped her head briefly. "You really want your old team back, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. I can't expect Catherine to give up her promotion, but I want Nick and Warrick back."

"Yeah. I … I'll tell you what. I'll talk to Ecklie. I can go to swing shift. Maybe Greg will be willing to switch, too. That'll free up the guys to for graveyard."

"How will that help anything?" Grissom asked pointedly, pushing off his counter to stand directly in front of her.

"You want your old team back."

"You are part of that team. So is Greg."

"Oh."

"I did it again, didn't I?"

"Grissom, you really aren't making any sense," Sara said, standing up straight when he moved in even closer.

"I hurt you. When I said I wanted my guys back, you thought I was saying I didn't want you."

"No. Not really. What's going on?"

"You were the one that figured out Nick was taken at random."

"Yeah," she said slowly, trying to keep her rising concern from her voice. Unusual conversations weren't atypical with Grissom, but this one struck her as especially odd. There was an emotional undertone to his words, and Sara couldn't shake the feeling her presence was aggravating the circumstances. "I'm not sure I'm following you."

"You were the one who figured out Nick was taken at random," Grissom repeated, his voice soft and emotive. "You were the one that found the thumb, that found the daughter, that figured out where Nick was buried."

"I … anyone could have done that," she said, shaking her head self-depreciatively. "Someone else would have done that stuff. We all played a part in finding Nick."

"But it was you. And you could have been the one who had been taken. That case could easily have been given to graveyard. It came in right at the time of shift change."

Sara swallowed nervously. Grissom was close enough that she could feel the heat from his body, and his breath tickled her skin. His motions were stiff, but steady. His voice was firm, even if what he was saying was unusual.

"I'm okay," she told him. "And if I had been the one taken, I know you guys would have found me."

"We barely found Nick in time."

"He doesn't have my temper. I would have shot that damned light a lot sooner," she joked, her eyebrows going up when he rested his hands on the counter on either side of her, effectively trapping her.

"Then what? The fire ants would have gotten to you sooner," he croaked, unaware of the shivers he caused by running his finger over the bare skin of her arm. "You could have died from anaphylactic shock."

Sara took a deep breath, and rested her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Grissom, I think I should get you to the hospital."

He actually chuckled at that, but it was eerily sad. "You think I've lost my mind?"

"No. Just bruised it," she replied, trying to keep her tone light. "Come on, Trigger. We'll stop at a video store on the way home. I'll rent you a Roy Rogers' movie."

"I'm fine. I told you, I had a moment of total clarity. Sitting here, thinking of all that had happened. I saw things I never realized, or tried to deny in the past."

"Well, I'm lost."

Grissom remained silent for a moment, but then he fixed her with a sharp gaze. "It was hard watching Nick in that situation, but I know it would be worse if it had been you."

"I … couldn't have watched you in there," she admitted, closing her eyes when his fingers slowly traced their way up to her neck. Sara shuddered when they caressed the spot where the mental patient had held a ceramic shard.

"I didn't know what to do when that maniac was threatening you," Grissom continued, his voice deep with emotion. "I didn't know how to comfort you when it was over."

"It's … it's okay."

"No, it's not. I never knew what to do. Not when you told me about your childhood and your mother. What to do when I had to take you home from the police station. About any of it. I didn't know what to do about this."

"I know," Sara said, her voice tinged with profound sorrow.

Grissom pulled back suddenly, turning his back to her. "How many chances did I think I was going to get? That's what I finally realized. I could have lost you any of those times. I don't know what to do."

Sara stood silently, her mouth opening in shock. Her mind raced, keeping pace with her heart, as she tried to process the implications of his statements. Noting his shoulders had dropped dejectedly, she knew she had to do something herself.

Taking a cautious step forward, she ran her hand up his arm slowly. Grissom turned to her hesitantly. "I told you I knew what to do," she reminded him softly.

"That was a long time ago."

"Not that long."

"Do you still know?" Grissom asked hopefully, his hand shaking as it came to rest on her shoulder.

Her eyes tracked his hand's motion, unable to be completely believe this was really happening. "Yes."

"Do you still want to share that with me?"

"Yes," Sara answered, her own voice choking with years of repressed emotion. She nodded when he continued to watch her with a nervous expression.

"Good." Grissom pulled her into a shy hug, softly brushing his lips across her cheek. "I want to know."

He held her gingerly for a moment before pulling back to kiss her once softly. Sara rested her head against his shoulder, blinking back the moisture forming in her eyes as her arms wrapped around him. Her heart rejoiced that he finally was willing to move forward, but it was her mind that was grounded in reality.

She stepped out of the hug, stroking his beard softly. "After we get back from seeing a doctor," she insisted adamantly.

"It may have taken another explosion to get this through my thick skull, but I'm not delusional," he whispered into her ear.

"I think I have reason to be … cautious," she responded, but her smile balanced out the pain.

"You do," he admitted reluctantly. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yeah."

"I am serious."

"And you were in an explosion."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and Sara crossed her arms across her chest defiantly. He dropped his head, pacing away before giving her a pointed look.

"I'm fine," Grissom said irritably.

"I'm serious about this."

"So am I, Sara," he said, moving once again to caress her face. "I wouldn't have told you if I weren't. I won't hurt you. At least not intentionally. If nothing else, please believe that."

She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch, her lips curving upward. Reaching her own hand up, she captured his fingers and brought them to her lips. She smiled at him, moving forward to gently kiss him.

Pulling away, she rested her hands on his chest lightly. Giving him an affectionate look, she raised an eyebrow. "You are going to the doctor. I want you to have a full bill of health before we go any further."

Grissom frowned, but after a beat, he shot her a wink. "Can we really get the movie on the way back?"

"Come on. I'll drive you. Get your shoes on," Sara chuckled, watching as he quickly finished dressing. She observed him closely, but there was no sign that his behavior was an aftereffect of the explosion, but she wasn't taking any chances.

While still leery, Sara couldn't help but smile when he slipped his hand into hers as they walked towards her car.

The End