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This was his hell; a building where nothing he'd ever smelled could compare to the stench that permeated through the walls. He'd smelled death before, obviously. But it had never been so real, so alive...so close to him he could feel it burning a hole in his heart. And there was a kind of cold terror that had slowly been gripping his heart since he'd stepped inside.

He stared at the door where surgeons fought to save Sara. Nick, his head bent forward, sat solidly beside him, lips moving silently and forming what Grissom interpreted as a prayer. He'd never seen Nick do that before, but then...Sara had never been shot before. Catherine sat on the other side of him with a blank, haunted look that seemed to say, 'Don't take her away from us.'

A year ago, he would've been surprised, and frankly, he still was somewhat. But he knew, on some level, that Sara and Catherine had formed a bond and he had to smile silently at that.

Warrick paced in front of them, as he'd been doing for the past two hours. Nick slowly lifted his head and spoke with an all-consuming guilt and weariness that would never really go away.

"When she got shot...she told me she was afraid of the dark." And she was, but not the literal dark, of course. Most of her work centered around the darkness of night, but what she spoke of was something far different. The night sky held thousands of stars to light everything up; the darkness that Sara spoke of was a place of utter blackness from which she'd never return should she succumb to it. They all knew this and it ate at their souls; Sara may be an emotional person, but rarely had they ever seen her afraid. For her to feel that way...they shuddered at the thought.

Nick spoke again and his voice trembled in a whisper. "I-Is she going to live?"

Nothing but silence answered him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

If time could be measured with an hourglass, Grissom could count the grains slowly slipping through his fingers. He couldn't fathom the magnitude of this sentence; being doomed to sit here waiting and wondering- imagining all the worst things he could and hoping beyond all hope that none of it would come true. He didn't hold out hope on that, for more than likely, it would.

The door opened and a surgeon stepped out. Grissom's head shot up and he studied the man's face intently. He would know by staring into the disillusioned depths if his life was going to end with the first word that left the surgeon's mouth. A sharp inhale of breath, and he steeled himself. Yes, this was it. Sara was dead and he with her.

"Are you family?"

It was a traditional and extremely trite formality, but they were prepared for it nevertheless as Catherine nodded her head.

The doctor didn't question it because frankly, he didn't care. If they were here, looking that lost, she obviously meant something to each of them and that was enough for him.

"The bullet nicked her pulmonary artery. Had it penetrated, I'd probably be referring you to Hooper Funeral Home right now." He'd done this so many times and each time, it got easier for him, but never for the people left behind. He knew this of course, and tried his best to kep emotions light, but somehow he always ended up failing.

"Uh, she's lost an extremely large amount of blood, with large amounts of internal bleeding as well. That always concerns us because it's harder to catch, obviously, and extremely deadly. Should there be a complication, she could bleed to death internally in a matter of minutes, so everything is touch-and-go right now. She-she's in a coma due to the shock and there's no way to tell when she might wake up. We're moving her to recovery now, and you can see her, but I'd like for you to be aware of the grimness of this. She's on life support and should the time arise, her next of kin-"

The surgeon lifted his clipboard and glanced at the name and continued to speak. "Gil Grissom."

Grissom met his eyes and held them, steeling himself again for what he knew was about to be said.

"Should the time come, Mr.Grissom, that should Miss Sidle's condition detetiorate, the decision on whether to sustain her on life support will ultimately be yours. Do you understand that?"

How could he possibly understand? How could he ever understand why people were made to endure this; to feel helpless, waiting and wondering when death would reach out its icy hand and take their loved ones from this earth forever. No, he would never understand that.

All he could do was merely nod.

The surgeon cleared his throat and then spoke once more after glancing around to see that Sara had been moved.

"You can go see her if you'd like. Uh..." He wanted to say something, anything. But what could he? He'd tried thinking of something each time he'd dealt with this, but all the years and all the experience could still never put the right words in his mind and he merely walked away.

The four walked then to the room in the ICU where the woman whom they'd called family for the past two years lay on the chasm between life and death.