So this is something I found while going through all the files on my computer and I decided to post it. It's been a while since I've posted anything Sandle anyways, although this story is a little darker than my other ones. Hopefully you guys like it!

I own nothing.

Beautiful Release

The sound of his footsteps made her heart sink, the ache in her stomach intensifying even more. Then came the door slamming shut behind him, tears finally breaking their barrier.

How could she have been so stupid? It was all her fault after all. He wasn't the one who went to Grissoms house, or the one who came back with his scent and his fignerprints on her skin. She was. And now she was paying for it.

The hurt in his eyes was evident and the guilt tore through her like a knife, twisting deeper when he shed that first tear. He was heartbroken at first, begging her to know why she did it. Than he became angry because the only answer she could give was a pitiful "I don't know." She ran after him, trying to pull the suitcase out of his hand before he could fill it.

But begging was useless and soon she found herself watching him pack his things, hands shaking and his hazel eyes dark with fury.

"Greg, please." she had finally managed to croak out, tears staining her pale cheeks. He didn't even look up, he just kept packing his things, pushing past her when he needed to.

She moved to the bed to sit, her shaky legs incapable of holding her up any longer. He came back into the room, zipping the bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Greg." she tried one more time, putting a bit of force in her voice. At last he looked at her, his eyes shooting daggers in her direction.

"What could you possibly have to say Sara?" He spat at her with such hostility she felt herself physically flinch at his voice.

"I'm sorry," she began, but he cut her off with a mocking laugh.

"Yeah well I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you. But now you can have what you always wanted." she opened her mouth to fire back a reply but came up short.

Instead she settled for watching him walk out of the room, taking her heart with him. A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes when he turned back around.

"Just tell me something Sara, why did it have to be Grissom?" Gregs voice was softer now, maybe even a little shaky. She thought about the question, trying to come up with at least some kind of answer.

When all he heard was silence he shook his head, almost in disbelief and continued out the door. Now Sara sat alone on what used to be their bed, struggling to take in a deep breath. Laying her head on his pillow she breathed in his scent, pulling her knees up to her chest.

A ragged sob escaped, opening the dam and letting the tears flow freely. She had lost everything to fulfill what used to be a fantasy for her. Now both of them were gone, leaving her alone to face the consequences of her decision. Heaving herself off the bed she grabbed her car keys, hoping the numbing effects of alcohol would be able to take away some of the pain.

The dimly lit bar soon felt like a second home to her in the weeks that followed. She would drink herself into a stupor and somehow manage to make it back to their- her apartment before work.

In the days that followed Gregs leaving she had all but destroyed her house. Pictures were ripped off the wall and she washed her sheets four times before his scent finally started to fade. She would never get used to sleeping alone, but right now she had no choice.

At work they avoided each other at all costs, making sure they were paired with anyone but each other. Grissom never looked at her more than once anymore and it seemed like he was as desperate to forget that night as she was.

Weeks later she walked into the locker room, pulling her navy blue shirt over her head when she saw Greg coming out of the shower, not even noticing her presence. She froze and watched him with interest, as if it were the first time she had laid eyes on him.

He had a towel wrapped around his waist and beads of water ran down his toned chest. Sara tried her hardest to stare anywhere but at him in that moment but she couldn't help it as her eyes settled on the body that used to fit perfectly with hers, almost as if they were made for each other. She remembered her nails raking up and down his body and his lips placing kisses on her neck and collar bone.

He would look down at her with such a look of love and acceptance that now it brought tears to her eyes. She had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her, all for a one night stand with someone she had been pining for for almost 8 years.

When she looked up again she saw Greg staring at her. She searched his eyes for the hatred and anger she had been anticipating but all she saw was deep sadness. Finally he turned around and grabbed his clothes, disappearing into the stall.

Exhaling sharply Sara collapsed onto the bench in front of her locker and dropped her head in her hands. Unshed tears were gathering in her eyes and she furiously tried wiping them away before they fell down her pale face. She heard footsteps behind her and the warm touch of someone's hand wiped away a stray tear lingering on her cheek.

She recognized the scent of his skin, the rough calloused texture of his hand and instantly she was thrown back to a time where he would have taken her home and wrapped her in his arms while she vented her angers and frustrations.

This time though she cringed when he touched her, mostly because she was afraid of building up a sense of hope only to have it come crashing down.

She turned her head slightly to the side and Greg's face came into view. He gave her his best attempt at a smile and sat down beside her, his arm brushing against her side. Sara gave into her temptations and nuzzled against his side, grateful he didn't push her away. Her head rested against his shoulder while his fingers traced senseless patterns on the skin of her hand.

"How have you been?" she asked quietly. It was a stupid question, and she knew it. But she had to know. The selfish part of her wanted him to say he missed her and he wanted her back, but the investigator in her, the one who could see just how untrue that was, told her that she was the only one that felt that way.

"I'm good. More than you can probably say." he answered, noting the dark bags under her eyes and how pale her skin was. Sara gave a dry laugh but she didn't argue. He was right, and she hated saying it.

"I wasn't good enough for you." she said suddenly, so quiet Greg had to lean closer just to hear her. Her words sent chills through him and he felt a brief flash of anger.

"What are you talking about?" She looked up at him with wide coffee colored eyes and swallowed the lump building in her throat.

"I went to Grissom's.. Because I knew I wasn't good enough for you, and you deserved better." Her voice trailed off while she took in Greg's expression. He was dumbfounded and suddenly a pang of guilt ripped through him. Had he let her feel that way? Had he not done enough to show her how much he cared?

Quickly he brushed the questions away because he knew he had done enough, or at least as much as he could have. He pulled away from Sara and put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a small shake when she refused to look at him.

"Sara, don't ever say something like that.." he took a breath and swallowed his anger. "You are all I ever wanted, everything I ever needed. I didn't care that you have nightmares or that you came from the family you did. I loved you for you." Sara flinched at the word loved. Past tense, meaning he no longer felt that way anymore.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, looking into Greg's hazel eyes for some kind of reaction. After a moment of silence he nodded his head and rubbed a hand roughly over his mouth, before moving it through his damo curls.

"I know Sar.." he stood up and opened his locker, pulling out his leather bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He bent down and Sara felt his lips brush against her hair before he sighed. "But sometimes sorry just isn't enough."

She watched him walk out of the room, leaving her feeling numb and dissoriented. But at the same time she also felt strangely free, maybe because she had finally told him what was on her mind. Or maybe it was because she knew no amount of begging would ever get him back.