Write a GSR reunion fic

Write a GSR reunion fic.
No word limit, but PLEASE do NOT make it 100 Chapters!
Fluff, smut and slight drama are alowed. NO ANGST!
You can include ANY of our CSI characters, but NO ANGST!
Must include the scene at Grissom's where he is sick and Cath comes to snoop, but Sara isn't home-YET!
After you post it to , put the link on the fan fiction page here! You do need to say in your A/N or disclaimer that it's an answer to a challenge on this wiki!
Can be rated G to NC- 17 ( YOU KNOW I LOVE SMUT!)
Write ON!

KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE

Catherine was going to die.

Not only had she been snooping around the apartment, she had stolen Hank. Who, in their right mind, would steal a dog? Let alone his dog. No their dog. Damn cold.

Two days and an explosion later, Grissom was pushing his tired, flu-ridden body through the door, with the dog. Sighing with relief as he dropped on to the couch, he tried to enjoy the silence.

Until his phone rang again.

He wanted to scream.

One week. Could the lab not last for one week? It almost made him wonder how they had survived during his sabbatical. Almost. Dropping the leash on to the coffee table, he looked at the caller ID.

And smiled.

Laying back, he folded an arm under his head.

"Hi."

"Twenty bucks says you get called by the end of this conversation." He couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe being sick wasn't so bad after all.

KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE

It was supposed to get better. He was cleared. The team was almost whole. Then some one took him away. It wasn't supposed to happen, not like that.

Warrick Brown was dead.

And Gil Grissom was the unfortunate bastard that found him

He wasn't supposed to find him either. He only went back to find his ring.

Why he hadn't told them was lost in the back of his mind. It wasn't until later that he realised how it could get worse. It wasn't until later he remembered. He'd been on the phone.

With her.

Sara.

Shit.

But she'd never know. The phone hit the floor. And he started running.

Evidence didn't matter.

Neither did the suspect.

Grissom grabbed him out of the car and tried to keep him awake until sirens were heard in the distant.

By then it was too late.

He held him as the ambulance pulled up, his hands, shirt and pants covered in blood. Nothing mattered any more.

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Catherine cried, Nick turned dangerously white, Greg cancelled his meeting, Jim was completely lost and Grissom's hands refused to stop shaking. And the jumpsuit he was wearing was itchy.

Everything was in the evidence vault. His clothes, badge, shoes, wallet, the phone he had completely forgotten about. His ring.

Sara was going to kill him from that one.

As he was handing over his pants to Ecklie for collection, it fell out.

And everyone saw it.

Ecklie almost accused him of stealing it. Until he saw the inscription on the inside.

My one and only. Love Sara

Eventually, Ecklie processed and gave it back.

Now he refused to take it off.

KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE

They tried.

But the bullet ripped an artery and he bled out quickly.

And Grissom would be haunted by that final moment forever.

KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE

An hour at the hospital, two hours going through the evening with Ecklie and his hands clenched into balls refusing to stop shaking, Grissom just wanted to hide under his desk and wait for the world to end. Reaching the handle, he could tell immediately that something was wrong.

Why was his office open?

He could sense her before he even opened the door. Walking in only confirmed it.

She stood, leaning back on to the chair she used to vacate so often.

He didn't bother to close the door; there didn't seem much point. For the moment the world didn't exist.

She was home.

Seeing the lost expression on his face, the nervous one on hers, they acted completely on instinct. Meeting in the middle of his office, they wrapped each other in a warm, reassuring hug.

"I caught the first flight out."

His hands weren't shaking anymore, his whole body was. He held on tightly, sobbing unusually loudly for some one who hardly cried at all. All she could do was reassuringly rub the back of his neck, his tears soaking the shoulder of her jacket, her own threatening to fall.

That's how Greg and Brass found them.

KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE

He hadn't eaten since leaving the café.

Two days ago.

Nick and Greg had picked at their food, but still managed to eat what they could. Catherine was only able to stomach a little, but she still had something in her system that wasn't just caffeine.

Grissom shoved food around his plate lazily until Sara took the fork away and gently tried to feed him, seemingly not caring who was watching them at the time. The problem was, the moment he swallowed, he was running to the bathroom to bring it back up again.

All anyone could do was watch as Sara ran after him.

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Six months later, they finally caught Warrick's killer.

Two weeks after that, Grissom stopped showing up to work.

KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE KENTONSTOLEMYCOOKIE

"Hey Gil, you got our assign-" Catherine walked into Grissom's office and found…nothing.

No bugs, no nasty experiments. Nothing.

A note and assignments lay on the desk.

She read the note three times before numbly entering the breakroom.

"He's gone."