He sat alone in his apartment that night, the first time in over a year. His night off. He'd rather be working. Usually his night off coincided with her night off. It was all coincidental though, of course. What did it matter to him now though? He sat at home, on his bed, remembering. Remembering the times they talked for hours about love, life, and what always cluttered their minds, death. What was she doing right now? Was she in as much pain he was in? Surprisingly enough these last thoughts made him smile just a hair. What was he thinking? She never lingered on things. Not things that would make her crumble anyway. Maybe years from now, their break up would explode inside her. Would he care years from now?
"This is out of revenge, isn't it?" He panted. She didn't dare to answer. She knew it was, he obviously knew it was. But it didn't need to be said, all she needed was sex. She knew he'd never say no. Not to her anyway. He was different than she was used to. Compared to the gentle control of her former lover, he was faster and rougher; he pushed her to the limit faster than the former ever did. She moaned. It was not her usual moan. Usually her moans were softer, and she let it out with a smile upon her face. Tonight it was gritty and her face was somewhat angered. She felt her self reach her climax, and he began to slow down from his usual pace. He gently pulled out of her and collapsed onto his back next to her. She turned onto her side after covering up under his blue sheets. "That was some of the best I've ever had." He said smiling, his highlighted hair shining with sweat by the moonlight. She smiled as he tucked a loose hair behind her ear. If only she felt the same.
He received the call at 6:24 that morning. A 419. He suited up, grabbed his kit, and headed out the door. His drive to the scene was silent. Usually there was some sort of music to be heard. Today he only listened to the thoughts buzzing around in his mind. He had once told her he trusted her intimately. Did he still? He once told her that she made him very happy. Did she still? She was the only one he had ever loved. He saved her life. And she repaid him with the cruelest thing she could do; break it off. She told him she needed space, time to think, relax. She needed to get away from him, he was doing things to her she didn't need. What could he possibly have done? Loved her? Treated her with respect? He didn't know, and he couldn't think about this now, he saw the crime scene coming up ahead. He parked the truck and grabbed his kit, and held his head high as he rounded the truck. He first saw the body and then saw Brass. Knelt down taking snap shots of the body was Greg, his highlighted hair shining with sweat by the sunrise. He kept walking forward, and stood next to Brass. The captain began giving the details when they heard footsteps behind them. Sara walked up on the other side of Brass and looked at the body. Grissom's heart sank. It had been one day, one day separated from her, and he felt as though his life was over.