A/N: I'm sorry for not updating this story... the reviews are awesome! I've never gotten so many ona first chapter (I've had other numerous accounts). A fourteen-year-old's homework is two hours a night, which leaves no time for writing, between homework, ballet and other events that keep popping up. Well, here's another chapter.

It was then that Grissom made the biggest mistake of his life. Relief was gone in the blink of an eye when Grissom reached to take the gun from the robber's hands. A gun shot went off almost immediately after Grissom tried and missed to swipe the gun, and it shot him dead center in the chest.

He stumbled backwards a few steps, clutching his wound with both hands and staring into space with shock. His mouth was open as if he wanted to scream ,but no sound came out.

Sara was in shock almost as much as Grissom was, but she was still alive, enough to grab the gun. And she did. She used it to hit the robber–and now murderer–over the head, knocking him out, and ran over to Grissom, who was now lying on the ground, dying. She quickly pulled out her walkie talkie (A/N: I'm sorry, I don't know what they're called) and called for help, mentioning the shot.

"Grissom, please stay with me," She said, a hand on his cheek, "You can't die on me. I need you."

By saying this, tears poured down harder than they were when the gun was pointed at her.

"I'm sorry," Grissom gasped. It was hard for him to breathe.

"You take over for me, okay?"

"Okay, but–"

"He got my chest, Sara," Grissom said, "It's over."

Sara didn't know what to say to that, not that she could speak at the moment. There were so many things she wanted to tell Grissom. She didn't know where to start. And she didn't have much time. So, she kissed him.

She didn't know when he died during the kiss. Grissom was in too much shock to actually try and kiss Sara. She was following the paramedics, who were carrying Grissom out on a stretcher. Apparently, the police called Sara's fellow CSIs over to the grocery store. Three level threes, Marilyn Prsala, Danielle James, and David Owen passed Sara.

"He's your guy," Sara said flatly, "There's no use for you."

They continued in anyway, but Sara didn't care. She just wanted to get home before the realization of Grissom dying in her arms sunk in.

She couldn't remember her drive home. Images of Grissom, the robber, a gun, and a terrible gun shot sound were the only things she could remember. She couldn't put any of them together. Part of her was too afraid. But as soon as she got home at 6 o'clock that afternoon, she stumbled into her kitchen, popped a sleeping pill into her mouth, dry, stumbled into her bedroom, and passed out on her bed.

The next day wasn't much better than the last. Around the time that Sarah was driving home from the Grocery Store/Crime Scene, the lab got a very unsettling call. Catherine Willows was the one to receive it. On the moment she got the call, she was working with Greg on a student molestation case. It rang twice before she spoke into it.

"Hello?"

"Catherine," It was Brass. His voice was very harsh sounding and the sirens in the background didn't make the call any better.

"Brass? What's wrong?" Catherine asked, making Greg hover over her shoulder.

"It's-it's Grissom," Brass choked.

"Brass, what happened?" Catherine said sharply.

"He's... um..." Brass trailed off, trying not to break down on the cell phone, and finished with the worst ending you could have on a sentence, "He's dead."

Of course, Greg couldn't hear what Catherine heard, so he was mystified when she dropped the cell phone to the floor and stormed out of the room. But he knew it was something bad. His expression went to anxious alarm and he picked up the dropped cell phone, but no one was on the other end, so he ran to try and find Catherine. She wasn't in her office or the locker room. But he didn't find her car outside. Worried, he ran back inside and found Nick and Warrick, who were at their lockers with puffy eyes, a look of shock on them. Their hands were shaking as they got ready to leave work.

"What happened that made Catherine storm out of the building?" Greg asked impatiently.

The two looked at Greg with a look of extreme weakness in their eyes that you'd never be able to find especially in these two, and it made Greg go weak as well.

"Grissom's dead," Nick said with a shaky, hoarse voice, and he lost it once again.

Those words washed over Greg harshly, like a knive diving into his chest. He lost all train of thought, and before he knew it, his whole body was shaking with sobs.

Grissom had always kept himself non-private to his co-workers. He was always about work first, relationships second. Each one of his few friends regretted ever not tapping into his social life.

Each one of them lived in their houses for the next few weeks. Sara watched old, sappy movies and soaps, living on junk food and sleeping pills, not moving from her bed for that period of time. Catherine cried herself to sleep every night, out bursting on her daughter from emotional stress, while other days she punched her punching bag until her hands were sore. Nick sat in front of his Lunar Cable and flipped through the channels for hours, never settling on any of them. He disconnected his phone line because the thought of human contact made him sick. Warrick basically mourned the same way, except played his piano for hours on end, trying to clear his mind, but never succeeding. And Greg... well, Greg blasted Marilyn Manson music and became an insomniac. His neighbours' complaints of his music were only answered the way Catherine acted towards her daughter at the time.

Things were never going to be the same.

A/N:So I've decided it will be Grissom.Hehehe... sorry, but I've got a ton of ideas for a story with him dying. I really hope it's long enough... hope you enjoyed... pleeeeeeease review!