WARRICK

You think that it must be the last tree standing in Vegas.

The bark scrapes the back of your hands as you lean her back against the trunk- it wasn't much of a tree- and the lowest branches tangle in your hair as you stand up to your full height. The one eye you can see with relays the image of her sitting there to your brain- an old woman, crossing the threshold from the twilight of her life to the darkness.

She's dying and you couldn't be happier about it.

You're not the only one who's thrilled; Grams is pretty chipper too, for all that her breathing is tight and her eyes are starting to droop. She's been looking forward to meeting her Maker her whole life, and in the violent maelstrom the world has suddenly become, she's being granted the blessing of a natural death. She squeezes your hand, tilting her head slightly upwards. Through the branches of the tree the smoky sky is starting to clear; here and there stars peep out. You think your eyes would tear up if you let them. But you don't want your last moments with Grams obscured by salt water. There will be enough time for that later.

Her hand on your cheek breaks you from your reverie. Old, wrinkled, the skin so delicate that it feels like it would rend with the slightest pressure. You think that looks are deceiving- those hands are the strongest you have ever known.

"Your pretty eyes, Warrick," she murmurs. "Those pretty eyes of yours."

"Will be just fine, Grams." You hold her think hand in yours and try to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"You go on now, Warrick," she says, and her voice is as firm as it was when you were a kid, getting into nothing but trouble. It's a voice that you learned not to argue with a long, long time ago.

"I'm not leaving you here alone." You argue with her anyway, because she's leaving you and you're scared.

She turns and looks at you. "No, but I'm leaving you," she says, and you know that the moment has finally come. The goodbyes are standard.

"I love you, Grams."

"I love you too, baby. We'll see each other again."

She doesn't catch you whisper the word "soon."

You leave her there, by the tree, the shell of her body staring at the stars that dance around curtains of smoke. You hope that the last thing she saw was starlight, and not firelight. You hope that on her death you inherited her indomitable strength. You hope that she's right, and that you will see each other again- you hope that a world gone mad isn't a sign that things are screwing up in Heaven, too.

Hoisting your shotgun over your shoulder, you give Grams one last look and turn away. It's a good image to have of her. She looks almost young again, a little girl staring in awe at the firmament.

Though the streets- what are left of them- are nearly empty; you see a fleeting shadow clinging to the edges of sidewalks once in a while, and the occasional scream carries from the distance.

You head for the lab.

You hope it's still standing.

By the time you get there, things have ceased to surprise you. You pass dead bodies- or parts of them- in the streets without blinking an eye, where once you might have winced. When you get to the lab, you discover that you can still register amazement, and your surprise surprises you.

The building is dark. The little light illuminating the hallway as you enter comes from the few offices in the front of the building with windows.

The darkness of the corridor doesn't shock you. It's seeing Lindsey there that makes your good eye widen slightly.

You wonder if she's dead and you're seeing her ghost. The little girl stares at you somberly, and neither of you say anything. Unbidden the memory surfaces of the time that you led her away from her feuding parents to play games on your computer. That dancing, sparkling child has been replaced with this fragment of pale-haired shadow.

She closes the distance between you, taking your hand and pulling you down the hallway, as if she were the little girl again, and not the young woman that she had been fighting so hard to become.

At Grissom's office door she turns and looks at you, her eyes expressionless. A heavy sadness settles itself somewhere around your shoulders as you look at her. Sorrow for what could have been, what might never be. Taking a deep breath, you follow her inside.