As Catherine watched him walk away she remembered the first couple of weeks after Sara's death. When they had finally gotten Sara out from under the car, Gil had stood and watched as the paramedics went to work. They arrived at the hospital behind the ambulance and Grissom had pushed his way into the exam room. He stood in the back, next to the wall. He was afraid to move any closer….to acknowledge the truth of his greatest fear. Sara was already gone. His gaze took in even the smallest details as the doctors and nurses went over her body, looking for hope. But she had been pinned under the car for too long. She was pronounced 10 short minutes after arriving at the hospital. Grissom never moved. He just stood there, arms crossed and staring at her as if willing her to live. The doctors left and the nurses began to clean up. Someone called for transport to the morgue. It was a homicide….an autopsy had to be performed. Still, Grissom stood there. Jim entered the room and tried to lead him out. "No!" Grissom had cried out. "I'm not leaving her." Finally Doc Robbins was able to convince him to wait in the hall. Catherine had never been sure when Doc had arrived but she was glad he was there. Grissom had stood guard outside her door until the stretcher came to take her away. It was then that his fears consumed him and Grissom dissolved. His back slid down the wall as he fell to the floor. Dazed and lost, he became a bewildered boy. At Doc's prompting Jim and Nick had helped him up and led him to Jim's car. Doc had scribbled a prescription and handed it to Warrick to have it filled. Greg went with him. We'll all meet at his place, Doc had said. It's best if he is in familiar surroundings.

At Grissom's townhouse, Jim and Nick had led him to the shower. He followed Jim's commands obediently…."lift your right leg, Gil...now your left," Jim had instructed as they undressed him. After a quick shower the process was repeated in reverse. Nick was sobbing by now. Seeing his mentor, his friend….his second father in this condition was crushing him. Warwick showed up with the meds and Gil had quietly accepted them. He hadn't spoken, hadn't moved unless commanded, and as far as Catherine could tell, hadn't blinked since his outburst at the hospital. Grissom had a knack for recording details of a scene in his mind. Catherine was convinced that he was replaying the scene over and over as he sat staring blankly in front of him. Doc, Cath, and Jim had consulted quickly in the corner. They would all take turns, watching Gil in shifts to be sure he was okay for the next few days. What the three conspirators didn't share with Nick, Warrick, and Greg was that Doc was concerned about suicide. It wasn't in Gil's nature to consider it...in fact, he considered it selfish and cowardly. But Gil wasn't thinking like himself…...if he was thinking at all. For three days Gil slept. They would wake him occasionally and help him eat….like a child. He didn't seem to be aware of anything that was happening.

The group gathered on the third night to discuss funeral arrangements. Gil was sitting on his sofa while Catherine helped him eat. His body was in the room but his mind was in hell. "Well, what kind of service should she have?" asked Doc. "Did she have a church home?"

"I don't think so…." replied Nick.

"So, service at the funeral home?" asked Cath.

"What about a minister?'" asked Greg.

"She didn't believe in God," Gil had whispered. His eyes blinked as they met Cath's. "She didn't…." and then he receded back into hell as his gaze fixed again.

"Well," Doc said, "that's good….I mean that he came out of it of even for a second. He's trying to find his way back."

They had decided on something more like a memorial service with eulogies and remembrances but not religious in nature. It was then that Nick spoke up, " okay, well, I'm going to handle this."

The small group was stunned. Jim eased Nick to the kitchen, "Nick are you sure you want to so this? I mean ….after your ...well being buried a couple years ago…. Wouldn't you rather have one of us handle it?"

Tears had welled up in Nick's eyes. "Jim, I need to do this….for Sara….but mostly for him," he said as he nodded in Gil's direction. It's the kind of thing a son does for his father. And I need to do it."

"Okay, but if it gets too tough, call me. Promise?"

"Yeah Jim, I promise."

As the days passed, Gil began to have more lucid moments. He would emerge from his private hell to look around - looking for Sara, they all thought. After a few minutes he would fade away again. He never spoke. He never acknowledged their presence.

Gil's condition had scared Greg most of all. From his point of view, Grissom had always seemed so strong, impervious to everything. The others had known Grissom long enough and seen him at heartbreaking scenes enough to understand that often his detached demeanor was the armor he wore to protect himself from the havoc he encountered daily in his job. The loss of Sara was more havoc than his armor could withstand. Since he was the most disturbed by their new ritual of 'the Grissom watch,' Greg was the first released from the duty. Warrick and Nick soon followed, leaving the three conspirators form the first night. Doc talked to Cath and Jim, "Now is when we really begin to worry about suicide. He'll come out of it soon and the reality will set in. He can't be left alone. Can either of you stay with him?" The choice was obvious. Jim took two weeks leave and moved into Gil's place. Cath came by daily to give him a break. Jim's second night there, Gil had awakened, "Brass, why are you in my house?" he had asked.

"Its okay, Gil. I'm here til you are feeling better."

"I'm not used to people in my house and I feel fine."

"Yeah, well, you've had a rough few days and Doc thought I should stay."

"Where's Sara? Why isn't she here?"

"Gil, you don't remember?"

"What?"

" The Miniature Killer, Natalie,…..Sara went missing."

Gil cocked his head and blinked…..it was then that Jim saw it register in his face. "She's dead," Gil said flatly.

"Yes, Gil, "I'm sorry, she is.

"Where is she?"

"I think they are moving her to the funeral home today. The funeral is set for Friday."

"Funeral?"

" More like a memorial service, actually. Nick's handling all those arrangements."

"Nick?"

"Yeah, he said he wanted to do it."

"Nick, he's ...he picked out a casket?"

"Yeah, Gil. He did."

"Why Nick"

"He said that he wanted to...that it was what a son does for a father…."

"Oh,"

"You need anything, Gil. You hungry?"

"No." He began to walk around the house. He stopped at various places, studying the contents of his shelves, moving objects, rearranging books until he stopped and picked up a picture of Sara. The he sat on his couch and held the picture close to him and waited for his longest night to end.

The next day, Grissom had gotten away from Jim. Bruno was barking and Gil yelled at Jim, who was in the shower, that he was taking Bruno out. Jim hurried to finish his shower but Gil had disappeared. As he finished dressing, Bruno showed up at the door. The dog was clearly agitated. "Shit," Jim declared as he grabbed the dog's lead and headed out. "Where is he Bruno? Where's Gil?" Jim hadn't really expected the dog to understand but Bruno pulled him down the street and around the corner. Jim found Gil sitting on a bench.

Gil stared ahead. "I couldn't do it, Jim."

Jim sat next to him. "Do what?"

"End it."

It was then that Jim saw Gil's gun. He was holding it next to him, resting his hand on the bench. "End what, Gil?"

"The pain….the dark….I thought if I ……" he looked down at the gun and slowly lifted it. He scrutinized the weapon, turning it over in his hand. "It is easy to go down into hell; night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide; but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air—there's the rub, the task." Then he looked at Jim. "Keep this for awhile; " he said. "I want the darkness to end, Jim."

Jim gingerly took the pistol from him. "It will, Gil. Little by little….it will.

Somehow Gil had pulled himself together for the funeral. Jim and Cath had walked into the room on either side of him, supporting and protecting him. They sat in the front, Gil's eyes staring straight ahead, never moving. He couldn't look at the casket. Ecklie approached. "Gil, I'm soooo sorry," he oozed. "I know how close you were to Sara."

Jim stood between Ecklie and his friend. "Let's talk over here," he said as he led Ecklie away, his hand on Ecklie's elbow. They reached the back corner of the room and Jim turned to face him. "Let me tell you something." he began in a very low but dangerous voice. "You're going to put your head back in your ass and shut up. You're going to sit as far away from Gil as you can get and when this is over, you're going to be the first one out. Do you understand me?" Ecklie was shocked by Brass's vehemence and retreated.

The service had been short, followed by an even shorter one at the graveside. As it concluded, Gil produced a single red rosebud, just beginning to open into a full blossom. No one knew how he had it in his possession but there is was, like magic. He eased toward the casket and placed it carefully on the top, where's Sara's heart rested inside. Slowly he bent, his face close to the head and whispered. His message was simple and for her only. No one else heard him as he murmured, "I'll always love you."

He didn't speak as the trio rode back to his place. Once inside he sat on the couch and quietly revealed his thoughts:

Do not restrain, but put forth all thy strength.
Thou hast at length arrived at Purgatory;
See there the cliff that closes it around;
See there the entrance, where it seems disjoined.

And finally, he allowed himself the tears that had not yet been shed.

Later, Catherine asked Jim if he knew the quote, "Shakespeare?"

"I don't think so…Dante, maybe."