A/N: A possible hanky warning for this chapter. Maybe. I know; it's been a while.

The door to Sara's hospital room opened unexpectedly causing Greg to jump to his feet, parting from Sara's side. He let go of her hand, the photograph they both had been holding falling onto the bed covers.

"Who are you?" said a curt male voice. "And how did you get in?"

Tears shining in his eyes, Greg whipped his head round toward the man standing at the door. He gasped, his eyes zooming in and locking on the woman standing slightly back at the threshold, his lips instantly forming into a sad smile that lit up the whole of his tear-streaked face. His arms opening wide, he walked straight past the hospital administrator and up to the woman who he knew could only be Sara's mother, and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"I am so, so very sorry," he cried into her shoulder. "So very, very sorry."

Purcell turned, asking Laura, "Do you know this man?"

Laura wrapped her arms around Greg, returning his warm embrace, tears lining her eyes too. She shook her head softly in reply to Purcell's question and sniffed, gently pushing Greg away from her. Bending down her head, she made eye contact. "But he obviously knows me," she whispered, her voice wobbling.

Greg wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve, nodding. "I'm Greg. Greg Sanders. A friend of Sara's." He smiled and turned, staring at Sara quizzically and then back to Laura. "I'm sorry," he told her as he fought to regain some composure, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with my display."

"You didn't," Laura said, giving Greg's arm a gentle squeeze.

"It's just that…when I saw you, I saw her." Tears began to spill again. "I miss her so much."

Laura reached for Greg's hand and squeezed it affectionately. "I know. I know," she told him. "I do too. I've done for ever."

Greg nodded, sniffing loudly and bringing his hand to wipe his eyes.

Purcell cleared his throat. "Sir, you shouldn't be here," he said reproachfully. "This is a restricted area and-"

Greg turned toward the hospital administrator, silencing him with a dark look. "I've come to speak with Sara's mother," he told him with determination, turning toward Laura and smiling, "if it's okay with you."

Laura nodded and returned Greg's smile. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much." She turned to Purcell, adding brusquely, "If it's okay with you, Mr Purcell."

Looking irritated Purcell raised his hands by his side. "Fine!" he said. "But not here. This is ICU, not the Strip. There's a family room at the end of the corridor you can use."

Greg looked back toward Sara and smiled at her fondly. Catching sight of the photograph lying on the covers, he picked it up and was putting it back in her hand the way he had found it when Laura said, "Why don't we take the photograph with us, Mr Sanders? That way Sara can be part of our conversation."

Greg looked at the picture, brushing his fingers over the two smiling faces and turned his head toward Laura, nodding. He bent low over Sara and whispered in her ear, "I'm only just borrowing it; don't go accusing me of theft again. And no, before you ask, it's nothing kinky," he repressed a shiver, "what do you take me for? Grissom's all yours."

Purcell held the door open and showed them to the family room. He checked his watch, stifling a yawn. "I'll be catching some sleep on the couch in my office, Mrs Sidle. Dr Vandenberg and Mrs Ward will be here around nine to talk to you."

"Thank you," Laura said, while Greg made a beeline for the coffee machine. "I appreciate you staying behind waiting for me, and what you've done since."

Purcell nodded and left them.

Greg scanned his eyes over the machine, pondering the choices. He took out his wallet, fed the machine a few coins and keyed in his selection. "Would you like a coffee, Mrs Sidle?" he asked, frowning at the murky look of the frothy mixture trickling down into the cup before glancing round toward Laura.

Taking a seat, Laura nodded her head with a smile. "Thank you. Milk only. And, please call me Laura."

Greg removed his cup, fed a few more coins into the machine and drumming his fingers on the metal front waited for Laura's cup to fill.

"You too work with Sara?" Laura asked breaking the silence.

Greg turned round, nodding his head in reply. "Level one, that's me!" The tone was bright enough but he couldn't get the spirit behind his words. He sighed, turning back toward the machine to hide his discomfort. "I used to work DNA evidence in the lab and now that I'm in the field Sara's kind of taken me under her wing."

This caused Laura her first real smile of the night. "She's a good CSI, is she?"

"The best," he said without hesitation. Laura gave a small laugh at the vehemence of Greg's reply. "It's true, you know? She is," he insisted, picking up Laura's coffee.

Laura's smile stayed on as she thought about his words. "Do you work…are you all night owls?" she then asked as he joined her side.

The question gave Greg pause and he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we are; we work the night shift after all." His expression turned melancholy. "Sara's the worst. She can stay up three days straight. She's famous for it at the lab." He placed the cups on the low table in front of them. "Did you want something to eat?" he asked quickly, as though he'd only just remembered his manners.

"No, I'm not hungry," Laura replied with a smile. "Thank you." She leaned across to pick up her coffee, brought the cup to her mouth and blew off a little steam.

"Yeah. Me neither," Greg said, watching Laura intently as she drank. "You know," he said musingly, "you remind me a lot of her."

Laura nodded. "This other friend of hers who came by earlier said I looked like her. Nick, was it?"

Greg nodded. "You do but it's not that. It's the mannerisms, the way you hold your cup…and also your voice, the way it lilts and raises at the end of a sentence." Greg smiled, and feeling silly for what he'd just said picked up his own cup. He took a small tentative sip, his face screwing into a disgusted grimace. "Piss water," he muttered under his breath.

"I beg your pardon?"

Greg reddened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear that."

Laura laughed. "Oh, Mr Sanders, you're a breath of fresh air."

Greg shrugged easily. "Call me Greg, please." Laura watched him, smiling fondly. "It's what we call bad coffee at the lab," he explained. "Shame I don't have any Blue Hawaiian at hand. Sara can't get enough of it. I have to hide it or else she gets cranky if she gets too much of the stuff…well, more so than usual, anyway."

"You seem to know Sara pretty well," Laura said quietly, taking another sip of her coffee.

Greg lifted his shoulder into another shrug. "Ever since she first stepped in the lab back in 2000, I've had this massive crush on her. Massive," he said, grinning like an oaf. His grin died abruptly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's not appropriate in the circumstance."

"Would Sara think so?"

A shadow crossing his eyes, Greg shook his head. "No. In our job, we tend to develop a warped sense of humour and sometimes we forget other people don't see it that way."

"It's okay, Greg. You haven't offended me. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me about Sara."

Greg nodded. Suddenly feeling restless, he got up, moving to the window looking out towards the city lights. He shoved his hands in his pockets removing Sara's picture out of it and with his back to Laura, stared intently into Sara's bright eyes. "Sara knows about this crush of mine," he continued quietly, looking at the picture. "Everyone does; it's no big secret but Sara, she's always been kind about it. She humours me because she knows ultimately that that's all it is. A crush."

He lapsed into a wistful silence, his gaze moving to the lights of moving traffic below. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?" he asked after a moment. When Laura didn't respond, he turned round adding, "I know about the two of you …being-" he shrugged the rest of the sentence off.

"Estranged?" Laura prompted with a sad smile. To Greg's small nod, she added, "Has she told you why?"

"No. Sara's very guarded about her private life and I'd never ask."

"You know this…Nick said exactly the same thing about her," she said, her smile stiffening.

Aware that he'd altered the mood drastically, Greg returned his gaze to the photograph in his hands.

Laura watched him, saying after a moment, "You know, Greg, you remind me a little of Mattie, Sara's older brother?...when he was much younger. He's older than Sara, quite a fair bit."

Greg looked round with surprise. "Sara mentioned him a couple of times in passing. For some reason," he added with a frown, "I remember her saying he gave her her first surf board?"

"For her eleventh birthday," Laura said laughing. "He regretted it almost immediately. We lived by the ocean then and Sara was desperate to go out surfing with him and his friends. She was too young, of course."

Greg was smiling goofily at the thought of Sara on a surf board. "I've just thought," he exclaimed suddenly, his expression shifting. "Has…he been notified of Sara's…" he swallowed painfully, "…accident?"

Laura nodded. "I left a message on his machine a couple of hours ago." She paused, hesitating and watched Greg for a moment before adding, "I haven't spoken to him for as long as I haven't spoken to Sara. Neither ever returned my attempts at contacting them." Laura smiled, shrugging her shoulders a little apologetically. "He's an elementary school principal in Baltimore," she added.

Greg's smile became a little uneasy and he looked down toward his hands, watching as his fingers played nervously with the photograph. "You seem very together, very at peace with the situation, considering-"

"I put up a good front," she said quickly. "Besides, I've learnt the hard way to accept what life throws at me. I've learnt to accept my penitence." Laura paused, watching Greg as he fingered the picture. "Could you tell me more about Sara?" Greg looked up and she nodded toward the picture. "About Sara and this Mr Grissom?"

Greg registered a look of surprise, visibly perking up. "Sara and Grissom? Sure, I got all the juicy gossip. What do you want to know?"

Laura smiled at the easy way Greg had diffused the awkwardness. "Was she happy?"

Greg's smiled broadened and he returned to his chair, handing the picture over to Laura. "Recently, yes. I'd never seen her happier. More fulfilled, contented. Sometimes Sara could act like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders but recently she was more carefree. I mean, we all have good days and bad days, especially in our work but still, Sara ploughed through with a smile."

Laura's gaze was fixed on the two smiling faces on the picture. "I can see this was taken in San Francisco but do you know when?" she asked.

Greg leaned over and examined the picture closely. "Well, Grissom's changed a fair bit since then but not so much Sara, although they both look younger, a lot younger actually." He frowned as he considered his answer.

"What is it?"

Greg lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "I'd say this was taken before Sara came to Vegas."

"They've known each other that long?" Laura asked, the surprise evident in her tone.

Greg nodded in reply, picking up his coffee. "I wasn't privy to all the details but I know for a fact that they were friends before Sara moved to Vegas. In fact, she only moved here from San Francisco because Grissom asked her to."

"Does he love my daughter?" she then asked Greg candidly, causing him to snort and splutter, choking on his mouthful of coffee. Laura leaned over, patting Greg's back while he recovered. When he finally stopped coughing and looked round, he had tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry," Laura apologised quickly. "I should have thought this would make you uncomfortable considering…"

Greg wiped his tears off. "My crush?" He brushed her concern off with a wide grin and a casual wave of his hand. "No. It's just that I suddenly had a vision of the two of them…you know…" he shuddered, "and it wasn't pretty!"

Laura laughed. "I'm sorry. I forgot he is your boss."

He nodded, his mind wandering back to her original question. "You know, before the…attack we had no idea they were together. None at all; it came as a complete shock, believe me. Since, I've thought about little else and a lot of stuff's starting to make sense."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Griss and Sara have always had this weird mental connection at work; she'd…know what he was thinking before he'd even finished thinking it himself, that kind of things. And that created sparks at times, because you know Sara can get a little…fiery. But I guess they had that same connection on a more personal level."

Laura remained silent, merely nodding her head distractedly.

"They've been living together," Greg continued eagerly, shaking his head in disbelief that he was finding it so easy to unburden on someone he had only just met. "For months apparently, from what Catherine let slip, and without anyone knowing."

"Catherine?"

"She's another night owl," Greg said with a smile. "And they have Hank, which we didn't know about. It's been hard on him too," he added, lapsing into a wistful silence.

Laura gasped and brought a shaky hand to her mouth. "They have a child together?"

Greg's eyes widened. "A child? God, no. No," he insisted, his gaze clouding over. "Hank's their dog."

"What is it, Greg?" Laura asked.

Greg looked up with a start. "Huh?"

She reached across and squeezed his hand. "What have you remembered?" she asked him softly. "What's causing the sudden pain in your eyes?"

Greg averted his gaze to his lap, shaking his head forlornly. He took a breath and shrugged a small shoulder. "When Sara was attacked, she was running at the park…"

"I know that. It's all over the news."

Greg nodded. "She was running with Hank. If it hadn't been for him running all the way home to raise the alarm with Grissom, Sara might not be here at all. Grissom did what he could of course but…" He sighed. "He's not been right since."

Laura closed her eyes, taking in a deep fraught breath. "Where is he, then? I've been trying to contact him all night but-"

Greg couldn't help the look of surprise on his face. "Haven't you heard? He's been…hum…taken hostage."

Laura gasped. "Taken hostage?"

Greg nodded his head sadly. "While chasing Sara's attackers. That's what I came to see Sara for; let her know why Griss wasn't with her."

"Taken hostage?" Laura repeated in an incredulous gasp.

"He managed to get a call out though and-"

"Oh, my God," she murmured to herself. "I thought he didn't care, that he couldn't love her if-" she let her words trail with a sad shake of the head and raised questioning eyes to Greg.

The CSI smiled comfortingly. "We traced the call to somewhere near Reno," he explained unaware of Laura's inner struggle. "I haven't heard anything since but…we'll find him."

"How can you be so sure?"

Greg's smile broadened. "He's made us into the best. It's only a matter of time before we do."

"Time's the only thing we haven't got."

"Why not?" Greg asked candidly.

Seemingly lost in her own thoughts, Laura gave a distracted small shake of the head but didn't reply.

"Maybe I should try Catherine again," he then said. "See if she's got any news." He scooted down the seat and slipped his cell out of his pocket, switching it back on. Immediately, he was alerted to a missed call from Catherine and got up, quick-dialling her number. "Do you mind?" he asked Laura, with a small wave of his cell.

Laura shook her head. "No. Please, do."

Greg moved toward the window and turned away when he heard Catherine pick up. "Cath? It's me, Greg."

"Where are you? I've been trying to call you."

He brought the phone closer his mouth. "I'm at the hospital with Sara's mom."

"Sara's mom?" Catherine repeated with surprise.

Ignoring Catherine's question Greg asked, "Have Brass and Warrick got to Reno yet?" Then on hearing her long sigh and fearing the worst, he added quickly, "What is it, Catherine? Have they found him?"

"Yes," came Catherine's hesitant reply. "I've just heard from Warrick." There was a pause. "It's not good, Greg."

"Sara, honey, wait for me!" Sara was running, almost floating, getting further and further away from him. Breathless, Grissom held out his hand toward her, calling again and again, "Sara, wait for me!"

Out of the blue, Sara stopped and turned, smiling and looking all around her uncertainly. Then she saw him. "Gil, what are you doing here?"

Grissom smiled lovingly, shrugging softly as though the answer was evident. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Sara said, her voice softening with love. She seemed to float back toward him. "You're not. You can't. You can't come with me; it's not your time."

"It's not yours either."

"You know it is. My mom's here now; she's signed the papers."

"No."

"Sir! We got the trunk open."

"You mustn't let McKay win," Sara continued softly, her voice taking a haunting tone. "You must go back. You must fight and come back to me."

"I'm tired, Sara. I'm just so very tired. I just want to go to sleep."

Sara took his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. "You can't."

"Jesus Christ! Grissom! Grissom, it's me! Brass. Can you hear me?"

"I just want to lie down beside you and for both of us to go to sleep."

"I know you do but we can't. You can't. Not just yet. That's not how it's supposed to happen." Sara shook him gently.

"Grissom, please, answer me!" Brass shouted as he put his hand on Grissom's chest, gently shaking him.

"Oh, my God, Jim, look at the state of him. Is he…d-still breathing?"

"I'm scared, Sara."

"Don't be." She smiled. "It's okay. You're going to be okay."

"I don't want to lose you."

Sara stroked her fingers to the pulse point on his neck. "You can never lose me. I'm here. I'll stay with you."

"I think I feel a pulse," Brass said, his fingers moving to Grissom's throat. "Warrick, I feel a pulse!"

"Grissom? It's me, Warrick. Can you hear me, man? Can you hear me?"

"I'm cold…so very cold."

"It's the shock, Gil. Help is on its way. Brass and Warrick are here."

"Are they?"

"They're going to take care of you."

"I can't feel anything."

Sara cupped his face in her hands. "You're going to be okay, Gil. You're going to be fine. Let them take care of you."

"Don't go. Sara, please don't go. Not without me."

"I have to."

"I haven't said goodbye."

She brushed her fingers over his eyes. "You don't need to say goodbye, my love."

"Please, Sara…"

"He's not responding!" Brass said, pulling Grissom's left eye open.

"Where are the paramedics? We need the paramedics!" Warrick shouted.

"Warrick?"

"Yes, that's right, Gil. Warrick's here."

"Take me with you."

"I've got to leave you behind, my love. I have no choice."

"I can't breathe."

Sara's soft lips pressed a gentle kiss over his lips. "You've got to. You've got to keep us alive, keep me alive in you. Alive in here," she said placing her hand over his heart and then over his eyes. "Or else she'll have won. I'll always be the light shining brightest in your eyes. Always remember that."

"But Sara…the ring. She took your ring. She's wearing it. I wanted you to have it before you go."

"I don't need a ring to know you love me. I know that in my heart."

Darkness fell all around him. "Sara…"

"The paramedics are on their way down, Sir."

"Gil, help is on its way!" Brass shouted. "You got to hang in there, do you hear me!"

"…I'm coming with you."

"No, Gil." Sara's tone was firm. "That's not how it's supposed to happen."

"What's his name?" the paramedic asked.

"Grissom. His name's Grissom. Gil Grissom."

Two sweaty fingers fell on Grissom's throat. "Gil! Gil! Can you hear me? My name's Phil. I'm a paramedic. I'm going to help you. Can you try to say something? Open your eyes?"

"Sara…"

Tbc.