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She hadn't expected him to ask her to stay.

When she had offered up the spare bedroom, it had been a purely friendly gesture. That was what Grissom was, first and foremost: a friend. And she knew that in both her head and her heart. She would not allow anything to happen, not even if he tried, though she had a strong suspicion that he wouldn't.

"Where do you want me to be?" she asked softly after she'd shut the door.

"Close."

She headed towards the chair near the wall and pulled it closer to the bed. Unless he asked, she would not lay next to him, and she might say no even if he did. It depended all on how this conversation would go. "I'm here."

He shut his eyes and she relaxed. He probably would just go to sleep, sink into the oblivion of sleep he so sorely needed. She had seen it through her door's window before she even opened the door. She had sensed something was wrong, and now that she knew what, it made the sight before he even more worrisome. If he could sleep, if she could help offer him some peace by providing him with a place free of memories, then that was all that mattered. Maybe he would grieve and heal and be more like the man she had come to know.

"You were right," he said quietly. "I need a place away from her."

"I figured as much," she said just as softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "And I meant what I said. You can stay here as long as you need to."

"If everyone knew I was here..."

"If it helps, then they won't say anything about it," she replied. "I think they're worried about you."

"I know they are. Catherine keeps trying to get me to talk."

"When you're ready, if you're ready, then you'll open up to her." She looked at him and gently reached over to touch his face lightly. It was unexpected on her part, and as soon as her fingers grazed his cheek, she was worried he might interpret it as her wanting something more. He didn't move, but she saw him relax a little more. The gesture had proved that she was close, and he took it as such. She relaxed herself.

"What if I don't?"

"I don't know, Gil," she said quietly. "Everyone grieves in their own way. You may never talk to anyone else about this."

"I talked to you," he said, the sleep that was beginning to overtake him tinging his voice slightly.

"I know," she replied. "And I feel honored that you trust me."

"It was earned a long time ago," he said, drifting farther into sleep.

"I'm glad," she said.

She waited for a reply, but it never came. She could tell by the slowness of his breathing that he was asleep. She sat in the chair for quite a while before she got up. She looked for a blanket in the room, and when she found one she pulled it over him. He needed that sleep, and she would make sure he got it. And if he still needed her when he awoke, she would try her best to still be there for him.

After all, that was what a trusted friend did.