A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I hope you guys are ready for some hardcore angst. This chapter ended up being a little heavier than I normally write (which means it is extremely angsty). I promise that Sara will be back in Vegas within the next few chapters. Happy reading. -Jac

The days seemed to blur into one and another. The seasons changed from spring to summer to winter, but I felt like my life was on hold. It wasn't that I hated Bethesda or my coworkers, I just longed for Vegas in a style that was similar to three years ago. I wanted it to be before the Sara-Grissom bullshit, before coffins, and before I felt vulnerable again. It was so easy to wish for yesterday because the future seemed too uncertain for my liking.

I liked my job in Bethesda. I liked all the new technology that would pass through the lab. MIT sent us new gadgets every couple months to try out on cases. My new boss was impressed with my curiosity; he always let me have the first crack at the new technology. I spent most of my time working on fiber evidence in the lab. I rarely went out to the scene of the crime. Bethesda was much more compartmentalized then Vegas ever was. Each of the crime lab investigators was an expert in their field rather than a pseudo-expert in many different fields.

Greg had come to visit once. He and Brass were the only ones that kept in regular contact with me. Catherine and Grissom thought I was stupid. Warrick thought that all the stress had finally gotten to my head. It made me feel lonely because I was closer to them than I ever was to my family.

I worked side-by-side with criminology interns from Georgetown. I finally figured out why Sara had loved teaching Greg. It was a lot like passing on a legacy. It was a new fulfillment that I never felt in Vegas, but it in no way made me miss Vegas any less. It just helped the time pass a little quicker.

I often took the students to different restaurants in DC to discuss the journal articles I had assigned as readings to supplement the knowledge they were gaining in the lab. We read a number of Grissom's articles on forensic entomology; it made me miss Grissom a little less despite all his faults. I always scanned the restaurant before sitting down; I prayed that one of these times I would see her.

I had envisioned the joyous reunion a million times. I had pictured myself asking her why she needed to leave like that . . . asking her if she missed me. I felt compelled to thank her for saving my life so many years ago. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. The scene played through my mind a million times; a million times I felt heartbroken after the daydream was over.

"You should really consider giving this a rest, Nick," Brass gently warned. He had done a credit check on Sara; there were no credit cards or loans in her name. It meant one of two things; Sara was either an FBI agent, or Sara was dead. I had been faithfully checking the obituaries for weeks, so I was sure that it wasn't the second option.

"I like Bethesda . . . I like DC," I half-heartedly replied. I knew I was lying; I'm sure that Brass knew that I was lying.

"Nick, it's been nearly a year. You've chased leads to Boston and Chicago. You need to start moving on with your life. Sara would want that," Brass coaxed.

"It hasn't felt like a year," I replied. It's felt a lot longer than a year, I thought.

"It's time to come home," Brass replied.

"I know," I replied.

"I'll talk to Catherine about rehiring you," Brass said.

"Thank you," I replied.

Another month passed before the good-bye parties and lunches began. My interns took me out to lunch and told me that I was a good teacher. My coworkers organized a pot-luck lunch. I was surprised that it was hard for me to leave Bethesda. When I packed up my apartment, I felt like I was leaving part of myself there.

I stood in the airport lobby. I took a deep breath before walking up to the ticket counter to claim my bags. My voice waivers as I told the lady behind the counter that I was going to Vegas for business rather than pleasure. The lady said that it was a shame. I just nodded.

The flight was long and uneventful. I spent hours torturing myself about feeling like I was going backward rather than moving forward. Going home to Vegas seemed like I was taking a big leap backward. I wouldn't be any closer to finding Sara; I wouldn't be any closer to getting my life in order. Midway through the flight, I wanted to go back to Bethesda, but I knew that wasn't the answer either.

I wasn't sure if there was even an answer to my question. How the hell do I move on? I wasn't sure if a city full of gambling, drugs, and easy women were the answer. I had proven weak a number of times; I didn't want to fall into that trap again. That's why Bethesda was safe. I was surrounded by uptight, career-driven women. I wasn't afforded with opportunity to go astray. My wildest nights were the ones in which I let my interns take me out for beers at a bar . . . it had female bartenders that would dance on the bar. Bethesda was tame compared to Vegas. The crime was even tame compared to Vegas. It felt safe.

"Welcome home," Brass said as he leaned up against a cement pillar in the concourse.

"Thanks," I mumbled as I followed him through the airport.

It signaled the end of one of the longest years in my life.