A/N: Thanks again to all who have been reading and reviewing, it really means a lot :)

He sat by her bedside just watching her as she slept. She had been out for a few hours now and as much as he wanted to see her wake up he knew she needed her rest. There was a small oxygen tube running from the foot of the bed up to a small clip where it was positioned in her nostrils. The wound on her neck had been stitched up and covered with a white-gauzed bandage surrounding her neck like a scarf.

He had been sitting there for three hours straight now, almost never blinking and never getting up for a break. He wanted to be there when she woke up, whenever that was going to be. A nurse had handed him a pair of scrubs to wear while his were being processed. He had no idea so much of her blood had gotten on them.

Just as he was about to get up and use him cell phone to call Catherine for an update, he noticed a movement coming from the bed and his eyes immediately glued themselves on Sara's face. Her face contorted into a mixture of confusion, tiredness and then a little bit of pain as she tried to move her stiff body.

"Honey, don't try and move," he told her, gently pushing her back down on the bed. Oh how many times she had heard him say that.

Wait, that meant he was here. But where was she? "Gris…?" she managed to get out, cracking both eyes open painfully. Her mouth was filled with the fowl metallic taste of her own blood and she wanted desperately for just a cup of water. "Wha…"

"Don't try and talk, Sara, I'm here," Grissom told her, pulling his chair closer to her bed until she could see him for herself. "Hang on a minute," he said, feeling around his pockets. He frowned when he remembered he wasn't wearing his own clothes but then he saw the pen and pad of paper on the table next to him. "Here, use this," he instructed her, setting the pad down in her lap and handing her the small pen.

She took it with a shaky hand and she tried to lick her lips, grimacing as she did so as she wrote her message, "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, Sara," Grissom told her, reaching for her other hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Do you remember? I came by and opened the door when I heard you inside."

There was confusion and then a flicker of recognition in her eyes as she started writing another message. "How bad is it?"

"Honestly, Sara?" Grissom cleared his throat. "Your throat was slashed pretty badly; you lost a lot of blood. The doctor said it didn't nick any arteries. If… if it had… you would probably be dead." Just the thought of it made him shiver.

Her face grew cold and solemn as if she had known that all along and she started writing another message furiously. "Did you get her?"

"Who, Sara?" Grissom asked.

She shot him a look of disbelief before she wrote something again, practically making a hole in the paper as she underlined it, "MONICA."

Then everything started to click in his brain and he remembered what the doctor had told him before he went in to see Sara. But Monica was a kid, just a young girl barely in her twenties, she was quiet and she kept to herself. How would she be able to do such a thing? "Are you sure, Sara?" he asked her.

Sara nodded gruffly, simply underlining the name again.

Grissom felt his blood run cold—surely he wasn't stupid enough to hire someone who would ultimately end up trying to end the life of his Sara? "Why?" he asked her. "Why, Sara? Do you know why she did this to you?"

Sara nodded but before she continued she pointed to the sink in the room, motioning with her hand as if she was drinking something. "Oh, of course, hang on," Grissom quickly told her, trying not to look like the idiot he felt he was as he got to his feet and scrambled over to the sink. After grabbing a Styrofoam cup and filling it with tap water he sat back down and slowly lifted it up to her lips, letting her drink it slowly even though she wanted to gulp the entire thing down right then and there.

After she was finally satisfied—as was Grissom with not letting her choke herself—she grabbed the pen and turned the pad over to a new blank piece of paper, starting to write again.

"San Francisco."

He stared at her in confusion. "San Francisco? What does that have to do with anything?"

She shook her head, pointing the tip of the pen at what she had written, willing him to understand. She knew she wasn't making much sense but it was the most she could do.

"San Francisco… was she at the crime lab where you worked in San Francisco?" Grissom asked, starting to get it.

Sara shook her head again, circling the word 'San Francisco' and writing down another clue. "Check AFIS."

"But her prints are already in the system Sara, she works for us now," Grissom said, "What do we need to check it for?"

"Brother," Sara replied, underlining that as well.

"Her brother?" Grissom asked. "Check AFIS for her brother…" he nodded, trying to make a mental note. "Is he in the system? Did he do time for something?" Sara nodded and he gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand. "Good job, honey. Just a few more questions and then you can sleep, okay?" She simply nodded and he continued. "Did you handle the case?"

"10 years ago."

Well that would certainly have given little Monica time to grow up. "Does she want revenge for her brother?" Grissom asked her. Well it was all making sense now. When Sara nodded he was about ready to jump out of his chair and track her down but he stopped when he heard her try and speak.

"Wai…" she hoarsely whispered, pulling him back down into his chair with the remaining strength she had.

"What is it, Sara?" Grissom asked, sitting back down and gazing into her eyes.

Sara was about to try and speak again but she decided to screw it when it caused her too much pain. She reached for the pen and started writing again.

"Let Jim handle it."

As much as Grissom wanted to wring them both by their necks he didn't want to leave Sara alone or worry her. That was the last thing she needed right now. "Okay honey," he told her, giving her hand another squeeze. He was rewarded with another small smile. "I'm just going to go call Jim now, okay? I'll be right back," he told her, leaning down and planting a small kiss on her forehead before turning and walking out.

After making sure Sara was alright Grissom walked outside to use his cell phone, pacing anxiously back and forth with his phone clenched tightly to his ear. Pick up, Jim, please… this is important. When Brass answered the phone it was the last greeting Grissom was expecting. He heard what sounded like crackling electricity in the background and incoherent shouting.

"Jim?" Grissom asked, dumbfounded. "Jim, are you there? What's going on?"

There was some more rustling in the background, some cracks of sparks and then he answered. "Gil, you'd better get over here. A bomb just went off. She wants blood."