Title: Nevermore
Summary: I was in the mood for some angsty GSR, so I wrote this. There is a character death in this fic, so read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Though that would be nice...
His beard was growing out now. His hands were dry, and his eyes drooped badly. He had also lost weight – a lot of weight. All he thought about anymore was his mistakes, his regrets, his loss.
Sara.
There she was again, dropping to the hard concrete of the warehouse floor, eyes wide and mouth agape.
Lifeless.
He hadn't even known where the bullet had come from, but it hadn't mattered at that point. He knew he'd cried out, and he remembered dropping to her side, cradling her in his arms, his tears mixing with the deep red pool of blood that had quickly formed around her; but the rest was a blur. A horrible, surreal blur.
And there had been nothing more he could do.
Grissom swirled the amber-colored liquid he held in a small glass below him. There were so many things he wished he would have said, would have done.
Sighing heavily, he took another sip of his drink then let it drop to the floor, listening to the dull shatter of glass against wood reverberate around the room. Slowly, he laid his head back on the arm chair he sat on and closed his eyes.
But he only saw her.
Grissom sat back up, and, looking at his hands he wondered if Sara would have wanted him to move on. But had she moved on from him after he turned her down? He didn't know, but he knew that he hadn't moved on from loving her.
And now he never would.