AN: English id not my mother language so if you find some gramatical errors blame it only to me. This One-Shot hasn't been passed for beta's hands.

Contains spoilers of the final episode of the seventh season. If you didn't see it, I recommend you not to read this story. But it's your final choice.

Issues

We all have our issues. The only difference is the way we face them.

I remember a conversation with Grissom while I was searching through the missing person's data base trying to identify Pamela Adler. At the time, I didn't know who she was, but my determination got the best of me, and my patience and perseveration got me a name. Grissom came to me while I was searching and told me something that now that I look at the team, replies in my head.

Every day we meet people on the worst day of their lives. It's a lot to deal with. Everyone who's had any time on this job knows that you have to have a diversion in order to cope with what we see. Right there I didn't pay much attention, but it didn't mean that I didn't register what he told me.

The question is that I found a way to face them. It was at the end of a bottle. I got drunk and nearly arrested, mandatory meetings with a counsellor, a week of suspension and Grissom's concern.

When Catherine was a strip dancer she found comfort in the lines of cocaine. When she found she was pregnant she stoped consuming and got a career. Every time she had a case that involved children she turned to her daughter and found the comfort that she needed.

Warrick for his part, was a player. He had a problem with playing, and that cost the death of a young CSI. Grissom gave him a second chance and he took it. He almost turned to be an addict but then he overcome it.

Greg. He was special he had a funny thing to say. He brought laughs and cheerful. But since he killed that guy, he changed. Sofia was the first one to notice.

Grissom was a mystery in himself. He took Warrick once to a rollercoaster and told me he did it to forget about the job.

When Nick was abducted, we nearly lost our balance. We put all our effort to find him, and we did it on time. He nearly had lost any hope of to be found, but we did it. After that he changed. He hadn't change the day a woman pointed a gun to his head, no. It had to be more than 12 hours of buried alive, alone with any contact and a gun at his reach.

That day we all found different ways to face the stress. Warrick got married, Catherine went to her daughter. Grissom and I found comfort in each others arms.

That day, taught us that every day could be our last day. Even we didn't work on the front as the cops were working, we could be a victim. Catherine expressed it very well to the camera when the guys of 'Hard Crime' did that documentary about us

Well ... one thing you learn doing this job is that bad things happen to people who never expect it ... every day.

And we never expected Brass to be shot.That was a hard time for all of us, specially to Grissom. The difference between Nick's abduction and Brass's shooting was that with Nick, we felt helpless, but we put all our minds and our hearts to find him, at least we were useful. With Brass, we only had to wait for his recovery. He almost didn't make it, but the surgeon went well and after a tremendous stress he returned to us.

That brought us more close to each other. Specially Grissom and I.

In a couple of years, we almost loose two amazing people. That was a proof to one of us and we overcome it leaning in each other comfort. We where there for each other, even a few of us had a couple or a family member, we made a family ourselves.

And then the 'Miniature Killer' appreared. Neither of us expected that it was a woman. Maybe the 'murder gen' was on her. I don't know, but he broke us apart.

When I was abducted by her, the relationship that Grissom and I tried to hide, was discovered. It was a strike to the hearts of my co-workers, my family, specially to my Grissom.

I don't blame him for what happened to me. We never knew, that a psychopath could have such feelings for Ernie Dell. We thought that with Ernie's death the killing stopped. But it wasn't the case. She stroke again with a psychiatrist. She failed, but the brother of the supposed victim, completed the scenario.

She waited patiently to know how to hurt Grissom, how to hurt all the team. And she found their weakness, his weakness. Me. She abducted me, she buried me under a wrenched car that stole from the breaker's yard, and somehow manage to put me under it in the middle of the desert.

I'm not going to explain the hurt, the helpless you feel. I could understand Nick right there, but he at least had an option. He could reach her weapon and shoot himself. I didn't have that choice, because the car avoid me to reach for my gun. And then the rain came.

At first it made me feel alive, because I could feel something, It was cold, but al lest I could feel it. Something that didn't happen with my legs. But then it dawn to me a few words, and none of them were hope or relief. They were: hypothermia, asphyxiation, death.

The weight of the car, plunged me into the mud. I tried to raise my head, but my muscles weren't to strong. I choke, I tried to breath beneath the mass of mud, but every attempt was and extra effort for me.

The car went slowly down, and with it me. I tried to breath but the only thing that went through my throat was mud, and more mud. I spit out as much as I could, but there was more and more, and the rain didn't stop, neither the sinking of the car. But I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I fought with all my strength, rage, fury and anger. It wasn't enough.

What a way to die. I never had the opportunity to tell them how much they meant to me. Well, in fact I had loads of moments to said it, but I never took the chance to tell them. Only one person knew how I felt about him.

Now it's too late. They found me two days later, nearly buried in the sand of the desert. I'd never been one of the luckiest, I already knew. Now they all know.

I see them all around my grave. They are together, as usually in this moments. Catherine leaning on Warrick for support, Greg and Nick his faces contorted in pain that don't want to show, but couldn't hide. Dr. Robbing, who did my autopsy with terrible sadness, David who couldn't assisted him. Brass my father figure, who lost his daughter and another one. He never was our biological father but as a matter of the heart he was. And Grissom. Alone, looking at the horizon, absent, feeling useless, empty, blaming himself for my death.

We all have our issues, now I hope that they turn to each other to deal with the issue of my death.

END