The High Cost of Living
Summary: Surviving is the hardest thing. Sara's PoV. WARNING: Character death.
A/N: Yeah, I was in a bit of down mood when I wrote this last night. Thanks to mystery who didn't mind that I posted this so close to her own "Counting Backwards". You can find the link for her story at YTDAW. Thanks to Burked for the beta.
Disclaimer: They're not my characters to kill off.

If you'd asked me on Monday what I'd be doing this weekend, there's no way I would have said, "I'll be sitting in a cemetery with Grissom." But here we are, and I don't know what to do. He's already driven everyone else away, growling at anyone that gets within two feet of him. I'm worried about him; he's taking this so hard.

That's not a surprise, honestly. Grissom hides his emotions, but he has them. I guess the team was the closest he had to a family, and now that's been shattered. I really want to hold his hand, but the cast prevents that. I'm glad he got away with just a broken wrist. I run my fingers lightly over his, but he pulls his hand away suddenly. I don't know why I'm surprised, not considering what I said to him after the accident. It wasn't intentional, but I really screwed things up.

And I think Grissom blames himself for what happened.

It was the type of case that really sets him off. Some kids playing with bottle rockets managed to fire one into what they thought was an empty building. But it wasn't; it was a meth house. The resulting explosion killed two of the kids right off, and the doctors doubted the remaining three would survive their massive burns.

Grissom was livid. He pulled the whole team together for this one, even dragging the guys in from swing shift. As soon as we got the all clear, we were inside the remains of the building, looking for anything that would lead us to the people responsible.

It was Greg's first time with this type of case, and Grissom wasn't in the mood to guide him. Of course, that meant he stayed with me. I didn't mind. I liked Greg. He was always eager, wanting to learn more. We stayed close together, as I pointed out different types of burn patterns, showed him what equipment looked like after it melted. It was a good learning experience for Greg – even if that's a moot point now – but it slowed our progress through the building.

So when the wall fell, we were directly under it.

Turns out it was a freak accident. There was an underground water pipe somewhere near the north wall, and it burst during the explosion. All that water below the surface liquefied the ground, causing the foundation to give, and that caused a weakened section of the wall to fall.

I didn't know that then. All I knew was that one minute there was a loud cracking sound, and the next people are yelling all over the place. A beam pinned my leg down, and all I could see of Greg was his hand sticking out from under the rubble. Luckily, the fire department was already there, because I started screaming for someone to help Greg.

Grissom got there first. He wrapped his arms around me, and that pissed me off. I wanted to help Greg, and he was keeping me away. It took a minute to realize that he was trying to keep me from hurting myself. The stinging in my eyes was from my own blood.

That's when I really blew it. I always over-talk around Grissom, but I set a record that day. In all fairness, I did just have a wall drop on top of me, and I was thinking I wasn't going to make it.

"Sara, stay still," he half-screamed, half-pleaded. In hindsight, I think my squeezing his hand had something to do with the scream part. That had to hurt like hell, considering his wrist was broken.

"Grissom?" Well, how many bearded guys in CSI overalls did I think were at the scene? Okay, I was definitely out of it.

"You're going to be fine."

"No, I'm not," I insisted. Like I said, I did just have a wall drop on me. Things like that tend to make you pessimistic.

"You'll be fine. Stop moving."

"Greg?"

"They're getting him. He'll be fine."

"Good. Grissom," I started to say.

"Hush, sweetheart."

"I have to tell you something," I said. "Before it's too late."

Okay, if I had been thinking straight at the time, I should have known those words alone would freak him out. Add the fact that the rest of the team, the police, and two companies of the fire department surrounded us, and you can get an idea how I managed to piss him off. It's not like Grissom wanted to discuss our non-relationship publicly.

"Shhh. We'll have you out of here in no time," Grissom said, his voice overflowing with panic.

"I love you."

"Sara," he pleaded.

"I always have. That's why I moved to Vegas, to be near you. I don't know how you never figure that out. So much for being a genius."

Yes, Jim, Catherine and Ecklie were all there to hear that admission. It must have been as shocking as I think it was, because they all stopped trying to dig my leg out for a minute. And Grissom marks my reviews as "needs to work on priorities."

"Shhh," he whispered hoarsely.

"I wish you could have trusted me. I never would have hurt you. Ever."

"Sara, please."

"There's nothing I wouldn't have done for you. I wish you'd given me a chance."

"Please, don't."

In case you were wondering, it's not fun having a wall drop on your head. It hurts like hell. And I have to admit, I was a bit panicky at the time. I was terrified for Greg, and then Grissom wouldn't let me make my melodramatic goodbyes. You could say I was getting upset.

"Even now, you won't admit anything, will you? Have to be a damned professional. You can't even say goodbye, can you? I know I'm not a great catch, but you think the job is more important than I am? Why did I think anything would ever get you to change?"

I passed out then. That's probably a good thing. God only knows what I would have hit him with if I had regained consciousness. I already had embarrassed and hurt him.

Of course, dying in the ambulance on the way to the hospital sucked, too.

That's what really pissed him off. It's not like I did it on purpose. Trust me, it wasn't on my list of things to do that day. But whatever hit my head broke my skull, and the internal hemorrhaging was too extensive.

Death isn't bad. Dying is a real bitch, though, but once you get through that, it's okay. It's hard to explain, and it's a little late to get spiritual, but there's no pain. Yeah, I know. I don't have a body, so there's no nervous system, but the real pain is what's in your head. So to speak; I don't have one of those any longer, either. The doubts, the memories. All those scars that you hold inside of yourself. Those are … Well, they're not gone. I remember everything, but they don't have any power over me.

Unless I let them.

I'm coming to understand that now. Death is the ultimate release; you can let go of all the pain, and finally move on. If that's what you want. I don't know what's waiting for me, but it's not scary. I don't know how I know, but it's going to be wonderful. There's no pain, no fear, no doubts.

I can't tell if Daddy is waiting for me. I doubt it. His life was too short and too violent, but I hope he can experience the peace. I can feel the draw, and, God, more than anything I want to be there.

But I can't go. Not yet.

I wish I could tell them that Greg is going to be okay. He'll be coming out of his coma in a day or so, but his leg will never completely heal. He's going to be stuck back in the lab because of that. It was nice to talk to him one last time; in his own borderline state, Greg knew I was there. I don't think he realized I was dead, though, and I didn't want to break that news to him. I hope he has enough sense not to tell Grissom about our conversation when he comes around.

It was a bizarre sensation watching as they harvested my organs. I signed the card years ago, and I knew I wasn't going to be using them again, but it was still very surreal. I even know who has them now, and it's kinda nice knowing part of me is keeping someone else alive. Of course, being an organ donor meant they kept me on life support until everyone could see me one last time.

Almost.

I kept waiting for Grissom to say goodbye. He never did. After his cast was on, he visited Greg and left.

I think that's why I'm still here, sitting at my own funeral. It's not to admire the flowers, trust me. This was not fun, especially when Nick wanted to know where my family was. People were already too depressed before they found out I didn't have one. Nice of Grissom to drop that bombshell, but I guess it was the only way he could get back at me for hurting him.

I have to admit, I am a bit curious as to what they'll put on my plaque. I don't want anything mushy, but I hope it's more than my name and a pair of years. I'd like to think my life amounted to more than just a number.

I'm sure Grissom could think of some appropriate quote, but I'm not holding out any hope on that. They tried to give him my urn of ashes to spread, but he pushed it away so hard he nearly spilled me. If I had to spend eternity inside a Dust Devil, I would hang around to haunt him just out of spite.

No, actually, I don't think I would.

That's what's happening, isn't it? I'm becoming a ghost. I can't move on because I'm waiting for him to say goodbye. I can still feel the draw to … whatever is out there … but it's weaker. If I stay here too long, I'm afraid I'll never find my way. That's almost the only thing that's scared me since I died.

I spent so much time waiting on him, waiting for that one admission. It never came, and even now, he won't say it. Is that how I want to spend my afterlife? Waiting for something that will never happen? Eternity is a hell of a long time.

I should catch up with the guys. They're in the mountains with my ashes. They're going to let me go where the wind will spread me. That'll be nice. I should say goodbye to them, and then get going while I still can feel the draw.

But I can't leave Grissom like this.

I don't really understand it all, but I can 'see' for the first time. It's nothing like sight when we're alive. Everyone has these dark parts swirling inside of them. All the old fears, injuries and pain, it mars the rest of the person. And the darkness inside of Grissom is very intense. All that time I thought he was distant, it turns out he was trying to control this side of himself. Something hurt him – deeply – and he's so afraid of what will happen if he ever loses control.

That explains so much about him. But the darkness inside Grissom is growing. His pain and guilt are feeding it, and I can tell he's not even trying to suppress it any longer. It's going to consume him, and I think that's going to follow him when he dies. He'll never escape it. He'll never know that peace. That's the only other thing that's scared me since I died.

What can I do? I couldn't reach him when I was alive, and if he's even aware of my presence now, he's ignoring me. I don't want to leave him, but I can't stay much longer. The draw is getting weaker by the minute. I love him, but I need to move on. I need whatever is waiting for me. I can't live – well, haunt – like this forever.

"I love you, Gil," I tell him.

Of course, he doesn't react. I don't know why I thought he would. I'm dead. It's futile, but I touch his hand one last time. I should be wondering how it's possible, or how I can feel his skin, but right now, I need this last touch of the living before I go.

"I will always love you," I say, giving him the kiss in death I always dreamed of giving him in life. "I'm sorry we have to part like this. Please, don't let this destroy you. Please. I'll be waiting for you. Hey, it was the story of my life. Why not my afterlife?"

My joke doesn't even sound good to me, but I don't know what else I can do. I give him a last kiss and back away. There's no time left to say goodbye to the others, but I know they'll be okay in time. I don't know about Grissom, and that's the last concern I leave behind as I approach the draw.

"Damn it!"

His scream registers, albeit faintly. Jim and Cath are running to him. I didn't think they'd really leave him alone, not at a time like this.

"No! God, no. It's not fair. She wasn't supposed to die. Why did she leave me? I never told her I loved her. Why? I never told her. Never."

Grissom's agony is painful, but I'm glad. No, really. That means he's fighting the darkness. Cath is holding him, and Grissom is actually crying. I think; it's hard to tell. My 'sense' of the real world is fading, but I know one thing. The darkness isn't going to take him. He's letting his friends help.

In time, we'll be together. And for once, I don't mind waiting for him.