A/N: I'm glad you all enjoyed the happiness squeezed in before we got to the angst. Unfortunately, we had to get here eventually.

Spoilers for episode 8x6, Who and What.


I came home and tore around the townhouse like a madwoman. I didn't bother stopping to see where my coat and bag landed once I slammed the door shut behind me, I just tore straight towards the bedroom, tearing off my work clothes in the process and grabbing running clothes as I found them – a t-shirt, a sports bra, a pair of shorts. I pulled on my running shoes, snatched a hair tie from the bathroom counter, grabbed Hank and his leash and was out the door in less than two minutes.

My feet starting pounding the pavement the moment I locked the door behind me. Hank bounded at my side, and I clenched his leash in my hand, also clamping my jaw shut tight and willing myself to concentrate on nothing but the feel of my feet against the sidewalk. But no matter how hard I ran, how far I pushed myself or how much sweat dripped down my face, I couldn't escape it. I couldn't run from this. It was crashing over me like a tidal wave, and I could do nothing to stop it.

I turned into a park, tied Hank's leash to the bike rake nearby, and bent down, hands on my knees, under a tree. I panted hard, my lungs feeling like they would burst any moment, and just… collapsed. Right there under the tree, my back pressed against the trunk, I collapsed in exhaustion and weakness and sadness, burying my head in my hands and trying to muffle my sobs.

"Sara?"

I looked up and found Greg next to the bike rack, his hands on the handlebars of a blue and green bike. I looked at him through red, puffy eyes and knew I looked like a complete mess. I was a mess. As I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, Greg paused for a moment to scratch Hank behind the ears and came to sit down next to me under my tree.

"Bad day, huh?" he asked gently.

"The worst," I sniffed.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked tentatively, watching as I plucked strands of grass from the earth. Hank barked at a passerby.

I shrugged.

"It was a bad scene," I said dully.

Greg nodded encouragingly.

"I heard about it," he said. "And I heard Grissom's in New York."

It was my turn to nod.

"He should be back in a few days."

"Well, I have the night off," he suggested. "If you want some company."

I gave him the best smile I could manage.

"Thanks, Greg," I said sincerely. "But I'll be all right."

"I'm worried about you," he rushed. "I hardly get to see you any more, and… after what you said the other week…"

"That was true," I acknowledged. "I am tired of having my face shoved in death. Especially in deaths like the ones today. It was… it was just so… brutal. And unnecessary. It just makes me wonder what I'm even doing here… if we can't prevent things like this."

"Sara, Grissom has a dog," Greg said, out of the blue. "He came to a barbecue last month. He's actually happy. You might not make a lasting difference in the crime rate, Sara, but you do make a difference."

I sighed and nodded, watching Hank strain against his leash to go join the game of Frisbee that was taking place several yards from us.

"Are you sure you don't want company tonight?"

"I'm sure," I smiled at him. "But thanks."

"You want me to walk you home?"

"Nah, I'm all right," I said, pulling myself up. "We're just around the corner."

"Okay," Greg said reluctantly. "But do me a favor and, while Grissom's gone, if you need anything, gimme a call. Okay?"

"Okay," I agreed. "Thank you, Greg."

"Bye, Sara. And bye, Hank!"

He gave the boxer's ears one last scratch before taking off on his bike. I watched him until he disappeared and turned to make the walk back home. Once there, I filled up Hank's bowl with fresh water, and was pulling out a water bottle for myself when the phone rang.
"Hi, honey," he said as soon as I picked up.

"Hi," I murmured. "How's the case?"

"It's going," he answered. "We're getting there, but it may take longer than I expected. Sara, I…"

"Yes?"

"We didn't really get to talk much before I left," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I sighed, giving him the same answer as earlier. "I guess I just miss you."

"I'm sorry, honey," he said. "For leaving you when you needed me."

"I always need you," I replied. "But I'll be okay. Honestly."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay," he conceded. "I'll be home as soon as I can. And Sara?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

I cradled the phone closer to my face, wishing it were him that I was holding instead.

"I love you, too."

We ended the call and I went straight for the bedroom, not feeling like food or a shower, or even a change of clothes. I crawled into bed, putting my back towards the empty side, knowing that I would not be able to sleep staring at it.

I wished I could convince myself as well as I could convince Grissom. I wished the promise I gave him were actually true. I really wished that everything would be all right again once he returned, but I knew that even he couldn't cure what was afflicting me right now.

Even without staring at Gil's empty side, I couldn't sleep, and I whistled to Hank. He came padding in, joining me on the bed with a heaving jump. It helped a little, but I still watched the hours roll by with tired, empty eyes. Eventually, I crawled out of bed and put on one of his sweatshirts, burying my nose in the collar and breathing in his familiar scent. I wrapped myself up in it, imagining his arms around me, holding me and telling me that things would be okay.

But even if he were there, arms around me, holding me, I don't think I could have believed him.