Grissom poured himself another glass of brandy. Resisting the urge to down it, he took a few sips and slumped in the leather chair. Somewhere in the recess of his mind he heard a sigh that he knew to be Hank's. If a dog could express disappointment, then the old faithful boxer had mastered the art.

A faint whisper of the pounding that was to come began against his temples but he didn't care. He didn't consider himself an alcoholic but he'd definitely taken up drinking as a hobby since Sara left. Not that "leaving" was the right term; that gave the impression that it was a choice. He hadn't given her any choice, he knew that. His actions had been responsible for her departure and for the rest of his life he'd have to live with that.

Drinking invariably brought him to ponder the events of that night. Maybe that's why he did drink, so he wouldn't forget that it was his fault. He would go through it all, sometimes trying to convince himself that he could have changed the outcome, sometimes trying to convince himself that he couldn't have. What if he hadn't gone after her at the airport? What if he hadn't tried to play psychiatrist? What if he'd just accepted that she needed to get away, even if it meant that he'd lose her for good? He lost her anyway. But maybe if he'd respected her wishes, he'd have a chance of getting her back.

Gil Grissom had become a shadow of his former self. A lonely and bitter man with a dog as sole life companion. When the phone rang, the last person he expected it to be was Sara Sidle.

It took his hazed mind a while to process the ringing filling the room. When he finally answered the phone, the husky tone that replied to his greeting sobered him up.

"Who...who is this?" The questions sounded dumb even to himself but he couldn't help it.

"Gil!" Her tone was indignant yet playful.

She laughed softly and he clasped the phone with a pressure that made his knuckles turn white. He'd convinced himself that he'd never hear that laugh again. And even now, he wasn't so sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Sara," he choked on her name, fighting back tears, "how...why-"

"How? You're a scientist, you figure it out." He could practically see that lopsided grin of hers. "Why? Well, it's about damn time. Don't you think?"

"It's been months, since..." He took a few deep breaths, trying to stop the shaking that had taken over his whole body.

He tried to convey his thoughts and feelings but his words came out in a jumble. "After...That day...What I did...I waited for any signs...I knew I'd lost you."

"Gil, it's okay." Her voice was so calm and peaceful next to the near hysteria of his. "I was just waiting for the right moment. I needed time to settle here and just think about...everything."

There was static on the line and Grissom held his breath, afraid to lose the connection. There was a long pause that made him believe that maybe he was dreaming the whole conversation after all but then her distinctive voice made itself heard again.

"We can't undo the past, but we also can't pretend nothing happened." She stopped, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts. "What you did was wrong. Obviously we both know that...But I've had a lot of time to think and I forgive you. And most importantly you need to forgive yourself."

"How?" He didn't try to deny that tears were flowing freely down his cheeks. "How can I forgive myself Sara? No matter what, I know we'll never be together-"

"You don't know that," she interrupted, "you just need to own up to what you did. You need to be honest with yourself, with me...And then maybe one day we'll find each other again."

"Maybe I can come find you. Sara, wherever you are, just tell me how." He was begging now, something he never thought he would do. His eyes searched his townhouse, not really knowing what he was looking for. He'd thought of leaving everything to go find Sara more than once but he lacked the guts to go through with it. What about the team? What about the life he'd built for himself? Could he leave it all behind?

"Don't even think about it. It wouldn't make anything better...Just don't." She sounded sad, defeated. "What about Hank? What would you do with him?"

"I don't know...Bring him along?" He regretted the words as soon as they came out. "No, no. I mean I'm sure I could find someone to look after him."

"No matter what you do, you might have to find someone else to care for him anyway...But you belong there, I don't need you here." He knew Sara hadn't meant to hurt him but it was still hard to hear. "I have my mom, I have friends. Really, I'm fine." Her voice had regained a soothing tone. "It was just very important that you knew that I forgive you."

"What do I tell the guys? They still expect you to come back." Of course he knew the answer. In some twisted way, he just needed her to validate it.

"You tell the truth, Gil."

"And it will set me free?" He had to laugh at the irony of that statement.

"In any way that matters, yes it will."

The call was disconnected, leaving Gil Grissom with a definite knowledge of what he had to do.

It was later that night, after claiming a conversation with his deceased fiancée that Gil Grissom turned himself in for her murder.