She was back. It should have meant happiness for him and he was glad to see her, but he couldn't get past the reason for her return. They lay in the bed, their bed, fully clothed, her head in the crook of his shoulder. He felt her presence but in his mind, all he could see or feel was Warrick. His mind wouldn't let go of the scene in the alley.

Warrick was still alive when he got there. He'd gathered his friend in his arms, willing him to hang on…to stay with him. Warrick tried, Gil felt it. But as his eyes opened there at the last and looked into Gil's eyes, the inevitability of Warrick's death made itself known. Gil watched his friend's eyes as life slipped out of them. And Gil Grissom, Tin Man, the robot, was stuck in that moment.

He wanted to let Sara comfort him and she tried, even though she was hurting also. As he had watched his friends and co-workers through the night, pain and agony had hit him in waves. Each of them was in their own hell over the loss of a friend. All of them were close to breaking, finding strength in their determination to find Warrick's killer and in their shared grief. But Gil was the one who had reached him first, the one who had felt the life flow out of him and it was breaking him.

As he lay there with Sara, his mind filtered through the years, looking for a similar time, a similar feeling. Many had accused him of feeling nothing but that had never been true; if anything, he felt too much and never quite knew how to handle it. So he had buried his feelings, becoming the robot. But this time he couldn't bury it; it was burying him.

He felt her hand moving on his chest and he automatically put his hand on hers, but he felt no relief. As he stared at the ceiling, Warrick's dying eyes were all that he could see. Eventually she fell asleep but he didn't. He spent the night staring.

The next few days were about Warrick; his investigation and his funeral. Gil moved through it all in a daze. Sara was there, at his side through it all. He was grateful, when he felt anything. The night after the funeral as they lay together, Sara began to caress him, her touch growing more heated as the minutes flowed past. He was aware of her mood, but not there himself. She began to kiss him, her lips nibbling at his neck and working towards his mouth. Lying on his back, he turned his head…away. "Please Sara, don't."

She pulled away, scooting to the opposite side of the bed, her hurt obvious. "Gil?"

"I…can't."

"Can't?"

"I have nothing to offer, emotionally, I mean. When you left, I tried to understand…and I think I did. I loved you so much and I wanted you to be happy. For you to leave like that, you were…in serious trouble, I knew. I missed you and I worried about you. The phone calls helped but…"

"I know Gil…and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you. I was just so…broken."

"Then you know how I feel. Somewhere deep inside, I still love you, but right now, I have nothing to give you."

She sighed. "I'm not leaving, Gil."

"Yeah…sure." His voice sounded as if he didn't care one way or the other.

"Please, let me help you through this."

"Like you trusted me to help you? It hurt, Sara. It was as if you stuck a knife in me when you left. You never even talked to me about it; you just left."

Tears sat in Sara's eyes as she listened to his pain. "I…should have talked…but I knew you would…"

"Would what, Sara?" For Gil Grissom, his voice was raised, agitated. "Would love you, care for you, try to get you stay…or go with you while you tried to settle your past. Would it really have been so much...to let me in? You could have trusted me Sara. But you didn't." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You…just …left."

He turned, his feet swinging off the bed to the floor. He sat, staring at the wall while he collected his emotions. His posture signaled defeat, complete surrender to the depression that was threatening to consume him. "Warrick was in trouble…the signs were there months ago, but I was blinded by my own emotions…to blind to see how deep he was sinking. Jim saw it, tried to warn me…tried to make me see…but by the time I did, it was too late; Warrick was already spiraling down. I could have helped him Sara; I could have helped him!" His sobs shook the bed.

Sara started to move toward him but he was immediately up, moving away. "No!"

"But Gil…"

"No. I was so caught in what I was feeling about you, about how much I missed you, and struggling not to let it overwhelm me…I couldn't see…"

Sara sat still on the bed, wanting to touch him, put her arms around him. But his body language told her to stay away…stay back. He withdrew from her, not only physically but in everyway as she sat there, watching him. As he turned to face her, she saw it in his eyes. "With everything that I am, I loved you. I risked everything," he told her, "my career, my emotions, my soul to be with you. And I would have kept risking it, but you left. I can't do it again. There's too much pain…I can't …"

Sara fought back her own sob. He was pulling back, farther back than he had ever been. He was retreating, moving farther and farther away. "I can't," he repeated.

"Gil please," she said as she moved towards him again.

Panic flooded through him; panic, as he had never felt it before. "No," he yelled. He backed away more, all the way to the door. "No more…I can't do this again." And he disappeared through the doorway. She followed him into the kitchen and arrived in time to hear the door close quietly. He had left.

Sara waited for hours for his return but he didn't come home. Finally, the phone rang. It was Jim Brass. He spoke quietly from the other end of the connection. "Sara, Gil is with me. He's um…he's in pretty bad shape, so I'm having him sleep at my place. Just didn't want you to worry about where he is."

"He's oaky? I mean, he's not hurt or anything?"

"Physically…no, but I'm trying to get him to go see the company shrink. He's…I think he's breaking, Sara. I think it all has finally crashed in on him."

It was days before she heard from Gil. He stayed with Jim until Jim convinced him to talk to the psychiatrist. The doctor gave Gil a prescription for his depression and follow up appointments were scheduled. Then Gil went home. "I want you to leave," he told Sara when he walked through the door.

"Hello," she told him. "You're back."

"I am and you are leaving. I can't do this…I can't love you anymore. Please Sara, you say you care about me…please go."

His anguish was clear for her to see. "I'm not leaving you," she told him.

He stood in the kitchen, staring at her in disbelief. Then he stirred, looked around and sighed. Next, he took off for the bedroom. Sara followed him and found him packing a bag. "What are you doing?"

He glanced at her briefly before returning to his task. "Jim will have to put up with me for a few more days. I'll need some clothes."

"I'm not leaving, Gil. You can hide at Jim's all you want, but I'm not leaving again."

He zipped up his bag and sighed. "Then be sure you feed Hank. Good bye, Sara." And then he was gone.

She didn't hear from him for two days. Jim called a couple of times to let her know that he was okay…well, as okay as could be expected. Then Jim called again. "The shrink called me and asked me to get you to meet him at the next appointment," Jim explained. "I'm not sure what it is all about but I promised to relay the message."

So Sara went to the next appointment. Gil was furious when he saw her there. "I asked her to come," the shrink told his patient. "Then I'm going," Gil stated. It took Jim barring the doorway to get Gil to stay.

They talked…rather, Sara and the shrink talked. Gil sat quietly and fumed. Finally, the appointment was over and he bolted for the door. Jim drove him back to his place.

"Ms. Sidle, I'll be honest. I'm really worried about him," Doctor Myers told her.

"In what way?"

"I'm afraid he's becoming suicidal…"

"No way, not Gil…"

"Everyone has a breaking point and he has reached his…gone beyond it, I'm afraid. I've suggested that he go away for a few weeks but he refuses."

"Go away? As in institution?"

"Well, not exactly…more of a rehab. But he needs intensive care, multiple sessions, not just one or two a week. And he needs to get away from everything here. Do you think you could talk to him?"

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Doctor, you saw how he was with me. Do you really believe I have any influence over him right now?"

The doctor shrugged. "It was just a thought…"

Jim dropped Gil at his house and then had to head to PD. Gil paced for hours around the house, nervous and agitated. Warrick's eyes kept pushing him on and when he managed to break the vision of Warrick, then Sara's letter sounded in his head. It was driving him crazy. Gil grabbed his keys and jumped in his car. As he drove, the past year spun in his head; Sara's kidnapping and rescue, her departure, and Warrick's demise. He drove for hours until he pulled into a familiar driveway; one he hadn't been in for a long time…too long, he mused.

Catherine answered the door to find a distraught looking Gil on her doorstep. Pulling him in, she asked if he was okay. Too far inside his own head to answer, he just stood, waiting to be led. She took him to her couch and sat him down. Then sitting next to him she tried to ask what was wrong but he just sat and stared. "Gil," she snapped at him, trying to provoke a response. He turned to her and the blank expression in his eyes frightened her. Then he looked away and a single tear trickled down his cheek as he looked at the coffee table.

Catherine knew he was in trouble, deep inside his head. But she didn't know what to do, so she just did what came naturally, she hugged him. She pulled him into a tight hug, relaxing into the cushions, where she held him. Her grip on him was firm and he must have sensed safety because he responded by pushing deeper into her arms.

Gil felt safe for the first time in months. She was warm and comforting. This was Catherine, his friend. She wouldn't hurt him as others did and she wouldn't leave him. They had been there for each other for years. He could count on her. And now she was holding him, talking quietly, her voice soothing in his anguish. Another followed the tiny trickle…and another, until the floodgates opened and his anguish spilled out, flooding her shirt. He felt the wetness against his face but still did not move as he sobbed. His arms reached for her, pulling her closer, holding her as if his life depended upon it. And in a sense, it did.

His outpouring of emotion shocked Catherine. Gil Grissom seldom let his feelings show and certainly not in this way. But here he was, as needy as a small child, crumpled in her arms, sobbing. She caressed his back and ran her fingers through his curls as she tried to comfort him, speaking in a quiet voice soothing and comforting words. Slowly he began to relax and the sobs subsided to a steady stream of tears and then to nothing. He lay still against her; his body becoming more and more lax until she realized he had fallen asleep.

Carefully she worked her way out from his embrace and headed for her phone, debating whom she should call. He and Sara were still together as far as she knew, but she also knew he had been staying at Jim's the last few days. She decided on Jim.

"Brass," his voice sounded over the connection.

"Jim, it's Catherine," she said in a low voice.

"Hey, what's going on? Isn't this your night off?"

"Yeah…Gil is here…"

"At your place? I thought he was going back to his place…"

"He showed up a little while ago and Jim, he's in bad shape."

"What do you mean?"

"He ..he um…was crying, I mean really crying…sobbing. I've never seen him like this."

"What's he doing now?

"He fell asleep on my couch. Thing is, I don't know how to help him…"

"Let him sleep for now. I'm on my way."

As he drove, Jim called Dr. Myers. He told Jim what he had told Sara earlier; that he was afraid Gil was becoming suicidal. "He really shouldn't be left alone for awhile and I'd like to get him into a residential facility as soon as possible."

"Okay, thanks. I'll call you later to get the name of a place. We'll make it happen, Doc."

Catherine led Jim into her living room where Gil was still sleeping. Jim eyed his friend for a moment and then they walked to the kitchen. "I talked to his shrink," Jim told her. "We can't leave him alone…"

Catherine blinked at that announcement. "He's…that bad?"

"The man said maybe suicidal."

Catherine looked back through the doorway at Gil on the couch. "I can keep him here tonight, but then what?"

"The shrink is getting the name of a residential facility…"

Catherine's eyes grew huge. "Oh, he's not going to like that."

"No, he won't. But we have to get him into it, Catherine. We'll lose him if we don't."

Catherine's face fell as she accepted what Jim told her. "Yeah…We'll have to think of a way."

"If it's okay, I can stay here and help you with him if he wakes up. Frankly, I'm hoping he sleeps through the night. He didn't sleep so good at my house. No telling when he's had a good night's sleep."

Catherine agreed. "What about Sara?" She asked finally.

"I don't know what's going on there exactly. I think he told her to move out and she refused. That's how he ended up at my place. She met him at the last appointment with Doc Myers but I don't think it went well. I think he bolted."

"So he broke it off? I thought he…"

"He's all messed up, Catherine. I think the thing with Warrick sent him over the edge. Somehow he blames himself."

Catherine sighed. "Okay, well, I guess we could take turns sleeping. That way someone will be awake in case he wakes up."

"Yeah, good idea. I'll take the first watch. You get some shut eye and then come spell me."

Gil slept for hours. When he woke, Catherine was sitting in a chair nearby, reading. As he began to stir, she put her book down and smiled at him. "Feeling better?"

He looked at her warily, the memory of the previous night rushing through his brain. He averted his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, some."

"Good. How about breakfast?"

Gil looked up at her hopefully. She wasn't going to grill him with a thousand questions, unusual for Catherine. "Sounds good."

"Go wash up and you can help me in the kitchen…but oh, Gil..."

"Yes?" He froze as he heard her call his name.

"Be quiet. Jim's asleep in my room and he hasn't been out long."

"Jim?"

"Yeah, he was worried about you so he stayed over…"

Gil's eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't remember Jim being there last night. "When did he get here?"

"After you fell asleep. I called him to see if he knew what had you so upset. He didn't but he came over anyway. He was worried; we both were."

Gil looked sheepish. "I'm sorry. But I really am better now."

Flashing him a smile that reminded him of the sunrise, Catherine nodded. "Glad to hear it. Now go wash up."

"Yes ma'm," he smirked. Catherine watched him disappear down the hall. Things almost felt normal.

The smell of bacon woke Jim and he appeared in the kitchen just in time to share in the feast. The trio sat around Catherine's table, making small talk. Finally it was Gil who broached the subject of the previous night.

"I..um…I'm sorry for causing so much worry last night."

Jim glanced over at Catherine, who was looking at Gil intently but kindly. "You scared me, Gil. I've never seen you like that…even when Sara was lost in the desert you held it together. What had you so upset?"

Gil felt all eyes on him as he grappled with an answer. "I can't get Warrick out of my head," he finally admitted. "I could feel him leaving me…us, and it just keeps replaying over and over."

Jim spoke softly. "Gil, I know you are not too happy with the idea, but Doc Myers would like you to go to a residential facility for a few weeks. He thinks that the intensive therapy will help you."

Gil began to shake his head. "No…I'm not crazy," he insisted.

"Of course you aren't," Catherine reached across, taking his hand. "But if you keep going like this, you will be. Please Gil, take the doctor's advice."

Jim watched his friend, who sat frozen to his chair, fear spilling out of every pore. "How about this for an idea? You go for two weeks. At the end of two weeks, I'll check on you and if you want to leave, I'll break you out myself, if necessary."

Gil's eyes widened. Catherine could see the ice beginning to melt. "And we could come visit more often if you want us to, just to be sure you are okay. But you have to promise to stay two weeks."

"You would come more often?" he asked shyly.

"Hey pal, we're friends…more than friends; we've been to hell and back together several times. We'll do whatever it takes to help you get through this," Jim responded.

They could tell that Gil was thinking about it seriously. "No Sara," he stated firmly. "In fact, she needs to be out of my place by the time I get back."

Catherine shot a quick glance at Jim. Neither liked the way he was trying to distance himself from Sara, but maybe it was worth it to get him help. "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to her…convince her to move out," Catherine offered.

Relief washed over Gil. He visibly relaxed and settled into the chair. "Okay. I'll go for two weeks. But one of you has to come every couple of days. No one else, just you."

Jim and Catherine nodded in agreement. "So I can call Doc Myers and set it all up?" Jim asked calmly.

Gil nodded, looking down at his plate. "I suppose I'll need some things…clothes and maybe some books to read."

"We'll get you all set up and then Catherine and I can drive you there. We're going to be here for you Gil, every step of the way."

Doc Myers did arrange everything. Jim and Catherine drove Gil to the facility the next day and sat with him for a few minutes in his room. Catherine helped him unpack; slipping a picture of the team in his drawer, hoping it might give him strength. Gil was reluctant to say goodbye and it was only after Jim offered to stop by the next day that Gil was able to let them go. Gil stood forlornly in his doorway as they walked down the hall to head home.

For Jim and Catherine, the ride home was torture. She cried much of the way and Jim's heart constricted in his chest as he listened to her. "He's going to be oaky," Jim told her. "We just have to be strong for him and he's going to be okay."

"But he'll never be the same, will he?"

"No…a part of him died with Warrick, I think."

Gil's two weeks extended to four. Catherine convinced Sara to move out of the apartment by offering her support in trying to help Gil find his way back to her once he was home. True to their word, Catherine and Jim went to visit frequently, always ready to help Gil in any way they could. Jim picked him up when he was released. Catherine was at Gil's place, tidying up and preparing a meal for the three of them.

For the first few minutes, Gil felt like a stranger in his own home. He wandered around, looking at his things, touching them as if seeing them for the first time. They ate in comfortable silence and then Gil helped Catherine clean up. He never asked about Sara and no information was offered.

The next day, Gil showed up at the lab with boxes. He packed his office, carefully wrapping his specimens and coding each box in his methodical way. Catherine stopped by, curious. "Moving?" she asked.

"Quitting," he answered.

She walked further in. "Quitting?"

"I've had enough. I'm going to do something else."

She opened her mouth to argue and then remembered the night on her couch, the night he sobbed himself to sleep. "Do you know what yet?"

"No," he said, glancing up. "But it will revolve around life, not death."

She nodded. "Let me help," she said as she reached for a jar and began wrapping.

As they finished, he looked at her squarely. "I'll stay in Vegas," he told her. "No matter what I decide to do, this will be home. My family is here."

Tears formed in her eyes as she looked into his. "I'll hold you to it, Gil. And I expect you at my place at least once a week for breakfast."

"Like the good ole days?" he quipped as they walked down the hall with boxes.

She smiled at him as she helped him load the boxes into his car. "Yeah…only better."

Jim happened to walk out of the building just as Gil closed the trunk lid of his car. Catherine hugged him and Jim shook his hand. Then Gil got into his car and drove away.

Jim put his arm around Catherine's shoulder as they watched his car disappear. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Feels like the end of an era," she commented. "Yeah," he sighed, "because it is."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

This probably wasn't what you were expecting. But I read in an article that when Gil leaves, it probably won't be in a way we all expected. I would expect that from CSI. But it got me to thinking...how will Gil depart? Here's one idea I came up with. Please review. Tell me if you liked it...or not.