Taking the Hit

Summary: An accident at a crime scene leaves someone without a memory and someone else with confusing feelings.

Rating: PG - 13 to start will become R to NC - 17 as the story develops

Spoilers: None, story has it's own story line.

A/N: Please be gentle, this is the first CSI story I've done in such a long time, but this little plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. Please let me know if you're interested in this and if I should continue to post.

Disclaimer: CSI is not mine, just renting them out and will give them back promptly.

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Chapter One

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He hated using his gun, but the man that was in the building with them was dangerous and he'd been practically forced by Brass to carry it. This man had raped both women and men, cutting their limbs off and saving them as souvenirs. He tried to get Sara to stay away, but she had completely refused. Typical. They thought that the scene was clear when he saw a shadow tracing the premises, getting closer and closer to Sara.

It was just a routine gathering for evidence, their third scene in a week; however, this last scene had him completely on edge. So on edge that the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Out of all the evidence they collected the finger prints they collected connected to the name Jack Ridgeborn. A man wanted in six states, now seven. Pulling his gun from his holster, he clicked it softly in his hand watching the shadow following her.

In just a few seconds, that's all it took, he saw the hammer before it hit him in the back of the head, a piercing 'thunk' and then a gunshot before he completely passed out.

"Grissom! Grissom!" Sara shouted, rushing towards the prone body of her boss. Feeling for a pulse she went to her radio and quickly called for help. "This is CSI Sidle I need an ambulance at 1364 Locust I have a CSI down and unconscious. I repeat I have a CSI down and unconscious."

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She paced backwards and forth in front of the warn couch in the emergency room waiting room. In truth she was too wired to sit down and too anxious to find out how he was.

"Miss Sidle?"

"Yes...How is he?"

"Well, he took quite a blow to the back of the head, had quite a few stitches, and he's awake. However, I feel there is a slight problem."

"Problem?" Her voice was shaky.

"He doesn't remember who he is."

With those words she almost fainted on the spot. "Can I see him?"

"Miss."

"I need to see him."

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Her shoes echoed on the floor as she walked down the hall. Other noises seemed to pale in comparison to her foot falls on the tiled floor as she made her way slowly to his room to see him behind the curtain looking lost and alone.

"Grissom?"

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They told him his name was Gil Grissom, told him his occupation, his date of birth, and the day its self. Told him where he was and what happened. Feeling the back of his head, he knew their words to be true. Doctor Tokam continuously reassured him that his memory would return, however, he was still a little skeptic about it. His musings were broken by a husky feminine voice to his left.

"Grissom?"

He was speechless. She was beautiful beyond measure dark curls spindling over her shoulders with chocolate eyes, long lush legs that snuck under jean shorts. Her purple tee shirt covered her body gracefully hugging her curves gently. He wished he knew her name, even though it seemed absurd. He didn't even know that much about himself, sure he remembered enough knowledge to continue his profession. What if he was married, he didn't see a line for a wedding ring...God this was completely confusing, and then her voice broke the fog in his mind yet again.

"Grissom? Are you alright?"

"I don't know." He replied, meeting her eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm Sara."

The angel had a name and her name was Sara. Beautiful, sweet, Sara. I don't even know who I am, let alone who she is, why am I having these thoughts? His mind was teetering on the edge of oblivion and he didn't even have the slightest idea what was going to happen when he was released from the hospital.

"I seem to be at a loss." His eyes fell away from hers and a bland expression crossed his face. "Doctor Tokam told me that I have mild amnesia and that I should regain my memory soon. I feel so out of place, I don't even recognize my name." He shook his head lightly. "I hardly recognized you."

"It's okay, Grissom. We're all going to be here for you. Ecklie's given you a two month leave. I had to make it stink too."

"You mean there are others? Who's Ecklie?"

"Yes, there are others. Catherine, Warrick, Jim, Nick, Greg. Ecklie's your boss." She sighed and sat next to the bed in the chair provided. "We're here for you, Griss."

"I haven't heard anything else from the Doctor, when am I to get out of here?"

"He told me that you'd be here overnight for evaluation, and then you can go home first thing in the morning if there are no complications. He hopes that being in familiar surroundings will help you to regain your memory."

Gil gave a brief nod and connected eyes with her once again, feeling a pang of sadness clutch his heart. He wondered about their relationship, what was between them, but he didn't want to be too forward about asking questions like that. However, he couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that there was something much deeper between them. Something beyond all reason, even without the aid of his memory.

Sara was trying to be calm on the outside, but inside she was a wreck. What if he never regained his memory, what if, what if, what if? She had so many what if's running around in her brain that she couldn't categorize them all if she tried. Her mind was JELLO and the thoughts that raged inside disturbing. In this moment he'd looked at her like he used to, back in those college days when they were just starting out their relationship and it made her knees weak. That lonely sweet expression that had been slowly fading through the years and only appeared when he thought she wasn't looking. Now he was looking at her the way he used to it and it had captured her off guard.

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Sara didn't want to leave him, but the nurse told her that she had to go. The look on his face was of pure defeat, that long ago look that she'd come to recognize as confusion to the third power. Usually that look was often directed at her.

When she returned to her apartment, she had calls from everyone asking about him and she replied to the best of her knowledge. After over two hours on the phone she finally zonked out in the most unlikely of places, her couch. Too tired to argue with her body's need for sleep and too tired to care where it happened to take place.