Disclaimers: I own nothing. If i did, I'd be much happier than I am, not to mention wealthier! Also, as many of you know, I do not really do GSR, but this bit just seemed to feel that way. Additionally, it has been far too long since I have last updated my other story in progress, but this came more as an accident than anything else, so please be patient with me...

Spoilers: Season 7 finale and Season 8 Premiere

The ironic thing about this situation that I find myself in is the loneliness. It's that feeling that nobody in the world is out there anymore that is killing me. It's not the wrecked car that is lying on top of my body causing the heaviness of the feeling, it's the idea itself. I'm alone. Nobody is out there anymore. I'm suffocating. Again, it's not the water that would drown me if I lowered my head a centimeter or two. I'm suffocating from the feeling that all who I have known have left me here. They can't find me. I am alone. The idea of laying my head down to die is so powerful and so welcoming. It would be so easy. There is nothing left. Yes, Grissom is there, but who is he really? I know he's not my soul mate. His soul is not the one which will complete mine. He is safe. That's all he is. He is my safety net. I know he is doing all he can to find me, but it's not enough. Knowing that is not lessening this overwhelming, crushing, sense. Every moment the storm gets stronger. Every moment, my resolve is eroded away just a bit more. "Sara's a survivor", they say. "She's strong, she'll get through", they say. I'm sorry. I am not. I'm not a survivor, nor am I strong. I don't really love Grissom. I don't know who I love. I love Bruno; that much I know. He'd be fine without me. Grissom will take good care of him.

Is anybody there? Does anybody care?

I can no longer keep my head above water. I can feel my muscles letting go. The survivor, the strong one, she is gone. Now all they will see is the true Sara Sidle; the one which I have been hiding behind the mask all of these years.

When I awake, the rain has stopped and the desert sun has dried the wetness. I have made it though. No, I am not the survivor, not anymore. I am just me. It was luck that I managed to stay alive. It is also luck that I can move. The rain has, ironically, saved me rather than killed me. I work myself out from under the car and into the oppressive heat of the Nevada sun. Walking, chanting, counting, doing anything to try to bring myself back into my own body, I continue. I'm not trying to stay alive, merely trying to exhaust myself to the point of extinction. My legs are no longer supporting my body, that much I know. As I drop to the ground, I ask again…

Is anybody there? Does anybody care?

I feel the strong arms pull me up out of my mind. They must be the arms of God for there is no way I am alive anymore. Physically it is impossible, but more importantly, I am not the survivor. I don't want to be the survivor, the strong one. I want to be gone. I don't want to work with the dead all day every day. I don't want to see the sorrow and the heartbreak anymore. I don't want to be with a man who is an excuse for something that I can't even put my finger on. I look up and see a glowing woman. Her beautiful blonde hair shines and her blue eyes are angelic. She's one of God's angels to take me away to Heaven. I see a man with her as well, tall, with dark brown hair and a soothing voice. Then they are gone again.

I open my eyes when and feel vibrations coursing through my body. Through the slits of the barely opened lids I can see a word. GRISSOM. White letters on black. It is then that I know I am not being brought to heaven, but back down to earth where I have longed to leave since this whole ordeal began. I can't deal with the reality of it. The man wearing the name doesn't deserve someone who is as broken as me. I don't want him anymore. How could I ever tell him all of these things? How can I tell him how much this hurts to be back? My eyes close again as I force a smile amidst the pain for his benefit only.

When I open my eyes again I am in my own bedroom. Grissom is beside me. He is a comfort that I am now sure that I need. I still don't know if I love him or not. After all, what is love anyway? There is only one thing I know for certain: Gil Grissom is the one who answers anytime I ask,

Is there anybody there? Does anybody care?

And I know that this is where I belong for now.

Please R&R :)