A/N: This story is dedicated to the young, innocent lives that were taken away in Nickel Mines, PA. My thoughts and prayers are with their families.

In my work, I've noticed many things about human nature. One, people who least deserve it are often the ones most victimized. Two, it's when life seems the most routine that horrific events usually occur.

Of course, I wasn't thinking of any of this as Grissom and I sped northwest on US 95 on a bright Friday morning. We were headed towards the tiny town of Cold Creek, Nevada. We had been called out to a breaking and entering at the local elementary school. It seemed fairly routine, there was that word again, and Grissom had given it to the two of us because we were going to try and sneak away for a long weekend. We had even come up with cover stories. I was going to visit old college friends in San Francisco, and Grissom made up a roach race he had to attend. So far, no one seemed to pay any attention to the fact that we, the two biggest workaholics in the world, were both taking personal time on the same day. Neither of us thought that the call would take too long. We assumed that some kids had broken into the school and stolen some computer equipment.

"Why are we getting sent out to this?" I asked as we turned off of 95 toward Cold Creek.

"The school district has a contract with the LVPD to investigate any crimes committed on their property," he answered.

"The school district goes out this far?"

"This school is one of the outlying ones," Grissom said, as he slowed for a sharp curve in the road. "For the most part, they are fairly autonomous. The middle school and high school are not far from here, and the cluster works together." He looked sideways at me. "I think we should still be able to make our flight this evening."

I reached out to grasp his hand. "I wish I could tell you how long I've been looking forward to this."

He brought my hand to his lips. "I've been looking forward to it too," he whispered.

I pulled my hand away, straightened in my seat and tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. "Patience, my dear," I teased. "You're not on vacation yet."

He grinned at me.
We pulled into the school and were astonished at the chaos that surrounded the building. Police cars were everywhere along with two ambulances. Parents were crying, and there was a crowd of officers around a sobbing young woman who was being attended by two paramedics.

"What's going on?" Grissom asked an officer as we got out of the car. "We were told this was a simple breaking and entering."

The officer was shocked. "Breaking and entering? I think you guys were given the wrong information. What's gone on here is not a simple and simple B and E. Not by a long shot."

I had a very bad feeling. "What happened?"

The officer swallowed hard. "I think I'll let you guys see for yourself."

He led us along the side of the building to an open door at the end. "This is Angela Ruiz's classroom. She was the one the paramedics were treating. She teaches first grade. It appears the suspect entered her room because it was the furthest away from the main part of the building. The other doors all face away from the classroom." He stepped back. "I'll call the coroner. You're going to need him."

Apprehensive, Grissom and I stepped toward the door. Together we turned to look in the open doorway.

"Dear God in heaven, what has happened here?" Grissom whispered.

What we saw could only be described as a nightmare. Fifteen children lay dead on the floor. Desks and chairs were overturned and scattered everywhere. Turning to look at the doorknob behind me, I saw a bloody handprint. A child lay beside the open door. There were smeared handprints on the walls, and a woman lay in the corner. Underneath her, I could see a child's arm. By the chalkboard a man lay with a bullet hole in his head and a gun in his hand. It was like a scene out of the worst horror movie you could imagine. I took a deep breath, "Where should we start?"

Grissom seemed unable to answer. He just stood there with a muscle in his jaw quivering. "Grissom?" I asked again, reaching out to touch his hand. He started slightly and looked at me. "Where do you want to start?"

Grissom seemed to shake himself mentally. "I'll work in here. I want you to talk to the teacher. Find out what happened in here."

"I'm going to call the others too," I replied. "I'll let you know what I find out." He simply nodded and waved a hand at me. I wasn't surprised. He was in his "Grissom" mode. He completely focused on the crime scene while ignoring every outside distraction.

I walked back to the front of the building. "Ms. Ruiz?" I asked. "Do you have a few minutes? I'd like to ask you a couple of questions."

The teacher looked at me, and I was amazed at the emptiness I saw there. She had the same look in her eyes that I'd seen in mine before. My heart broke for this young woman who had had her own nightmares come to life in front of her eyes. I reached out and grasped her hand. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She took a deep breath and then drew me into her nightmarish experience. "We had just come back in from recess. Usually, the door is always locked, but one of my students had left something out on the playground, so I left it unlocked while she went to go get it with my aide. He must have been watching, because the next thing I know, he's dragging the two of them back in and waving his gun around." She started to cry again. "I don't know what happened after that. All I can remember is shouting and screaming. I grabbed as many kids as I could and shoved them out the door. Then he started shooting. I tried to grab more people, but I couldn't reach anyone. I ran out and went to the room next to me to call the office. We could hear the shots and screams from there. It was terrible. I should have stayed! I'm responsible for those children, and I just left them to be butchered!" She screamed. "I should be dead too! It's all my fault!" She buried her face in her hands and began sobbing uncontrollably.

I stood there, helpless. I had no idea how to even help this woman. All I could do is put my arm around her shoulder as she continued to sob.

It was after dark when we were finally ready to leave. Grissom and I packed up the evidence we had collected and slowly climbed into the truck. The silence that permeated the vehicle was nothing like it had been on our trip there. Then it had been the easy and comfortable silence of two people who know one another well enough to not be afraid of silence. Now, it was the heavy silence of two people who had seen the darkness of man. After a half hour, I couldn't stand it anymore. "Did you see those kids?" I asked. "The ones who survived?"

Grissom flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Yeah," he answered.

"They'll never be the same again, will they? They'll always carry the guilt with them. They survived when everyone else died. How will they ever go on? Their lives are destroyed at the age of six! How does someone survive that? I mean, the teacher sat there with me and said she should be dead! How in the world are kids going to move on?" Now I was sobbing.

He pulled the truck over to the side of the road and pulled me into his arms. "Hey," he whispered. "It's Ok. Just let it out. You've seen the worst today. Everyone needs to let go."

"It's just that I can understand what they're going through. That guilt. Always wondering why you were the one that made it out when no one else did. How you were able to move beyond it. Sometimes I feel like the guilt is going to eat me alive."

He pulled back. "Wait just a minute. You have nothing to be guilty about. You survived a terrible home and a tragedy that few people ever will. More than anyone, you should know that a person can rise above that. Instead of becoming angry and vengeful you've become an advocate for those who can't speak for themselves. I can't think of anyone that I admire more. And if anyone ever tries to tell you different, you send them to me. I'll set them straight."

I smiled through my tears. "I love it when you pull out your manly man act."

He grinned at me. "It is kind of cute, isn't it?"
It was late when we arrived back at my apartment. Grissom had called the airline earlier and moved our flight to the morning. We were still going to try and salvage at least part of our weekend. But mentally, I was still trapped back in that school.

We were lying in bed when I finally spoke. "Grissom," I whispered, "you awake?"

"Yeah," he murmured.

"I don't want to go away this weekend."

He turned over and looked at me, propping his head up with his hand. "Why not?"

"I think I want to go attend the funerals. One of the officers was saying at least one of them would be on Monday. I would really like to go." I shook my head. "No, that's not right. I need to go. I need to say good – bye to those children and put my past to rest."

Grissom reached out and softly touched my cheek. "I love you, you know?"

I nestled up closer to him and smiled. I knew that, for tonight, the nightmares would stay away.

A/N: When I first chose this prompt, this was not the story I had intended. But this just stuck in my head and refused to leave since this is the nightmare that wakes me up at night. I teach in an elementary school in metro Atlanta, and I pray daily that I will never face this. Please, when you're done reading this, say a prayer for those innocent Amish girls who were willing to give up their lives so their classmates could live.