Title: Maybe, Possibly- Truly

Author: frickangel

Site: trinity (dot) hybridshadows (dot) com

Summary: To be afraid of something yet find comfort in arms of the one you love.

Spoilers: Other than the fact that Greg becomes a full fledge CSI?

A/N: This is the last chapter. I know some have been saying that this story has been rather confusing and I apologise. I should've posted it as a one chapter fic. Hopefully, by the end of this chapter everyone would be able to understand. -Crosses fingers- I'm really, really praying it will make sense to you all as it did to me. ;)

Disclaimer: Don't own CSI and all its characters, whoever owns them, owns them. But it's not me- though I wish.

Chapter III

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Why was he so cold?

His skin felt clammy and ice like. She was almost afraid he was running a fever and in his condition that could be dangerous since th-.

Shut up, Sara! He is perfectly fine; a fever won't hurt him because he is…

She couldn't even finish the train of thought, she knew this was going to turn out all right but the darkness still threatened to blanket her and to drown her. "Are you ok?"

With his hands on his lap, he looked frighteningly stiff. "I don't know. Am I?"

"You will be." Her voice cracked, the sobs ready to envelop her once more. She had promised herself in the car that she wasn't going to cry. But she yearned to cry more than anything, to let loose her own emotional roller coaster.

No, not here and not in front of him.

"You don't sound very sure." He flashed a quick grin, but as quick as the smile had been it had disappeared only to lower his head and close his eyes.

Shifting her body as much as the seat would allow her, she faced Greg. Her own hands lifted his head back up and cupping his face gently. "I'm sure." She injected all her faith into those two words. Braving herself, she moved her left hand to his forehead and feeling the temperature. "You're cold." She let herself bath in a second of relief that he wasn't feverish. Hospitals were always too damned chilly.

Shaking his head slightly but not enough to loosen her soft touch to his face, Greg closed his eyes again. "I'm just scared."

She didn't know what to do or what to say. She came here hoping to comfort him and help him, but to her, it seems that it was the other way around.

Don't cry.

He removed her hand from his forehead, so lost in thought that she had forgotten about her hold on him. She felt his icy touch turn warm as he held on to her hand and not letting go. Goosebumps prickled her skin, but the last thing she wanted was for him to release her.

For a long time, they remained still and not moving. When she finally risked moving to a more comfortable position, she slowly leaned back against the chair and breathed easier. Shutting her eyes, she felt tired all of a sudden, sleep deprived and drained.

"Go to sleep."

"I'm not leaving you." She reminded him.

He fell silent again. "You don't have to."

"I know." With eyes wide shut, she rested her head upon his shoulder.

She would've fallen asleep. If only…

"Mr. Sanders?"

They jumped at the same time, the comfort running away like cowards. "Yes?" he replied, but Sara was sure that he knew what the reason was.

The nurse smiled sweetly and held out a manila envelope for him to take.

When he wouldn't move to accept it, she did. "Thank you." She muttered. Her fingers were trembling over the thin object. "Take it." Prying his hands open, she placed the envelope into his grasp; she had no right to know the outcome by herself.

He finally did and stopped there.

"Open it." she pushed on.

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"No!"

Her arm flew outstretched towards them as if she had some sort of force that could stop him. Only it seemed that she did.

The stranger's glass knife was already leaving red scratches on Greg's neck and it paused right below his ear now.

"No one will hurt you, just let him go and we'll leave you alone." Sara attempted to persuade him since Robins was doing a stellar job of frightening the mad instead of anything else.

"Yea old demons of the east! Be gone!" the glass hovered dangerously over Greg's throat again and then lay to rest against his cheek. "Angels in mah dream say to me many a thing. Them warn Tom 'bout attack."

Tom? Who was Tom? Maybe he was referring to himself. "We're not attacking, we just want him back." Sara took a quick look at Robins. The young officer was only as old as Greg was, probably just a few pounds more and just as afraid. Sara was more worried that he'd pull the trigger out of terror than of duty.

"You know… Tom," She swallowed hard when Greg spoke out to him, his own tone was heavily burdened, and he sounded out of breath. This Tom was choking him. "I'll just follow them… and… and… leave your home," Greg continued, rasping each word out. "… you can… go back to your-."

With a fast move, Tom tightened his elbow grip on Greg's neck and sneered at the CSI in his arms. "You one of 'em many demons!"

Sara gasped in horror, Robins stood frozen, and Greg released a desperate croak for air.

This couldn't be happening.

"Tom will serve angels and punish demon!"

The man was a monster with only religious perseverance to kill, the hot blood seeping from the wound and baptising the victim.

His hand up in the air, poised to strike fatally into Greg's life.

Sara had one hundredth of a second to decide.

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Had the world stopped?

It hadn't, it was he himself who had ceased all movements. Somewhere beyond, he could vaguely hear Sara's voice prodding him to continue.

A finger traced the envelope's flap, he realised he was actually trying to open it. The opening wasn't glued together like the usual mail, which was hard to peel apart. It was something he constantly got annoyed about.

In the envelope case was a single sheet of paper and on it printed the very fate of him.

It was time.

He lifted his eyes to the sheet and read the words.

'Mr. Sanders, Greg.'

He moved on to a few lines below.

'Blood test.'

Next word.

'Results.'

Wetting his lips, he felt Sara's looking at him eagerly, not at the paper but straight into his eyes.

'Doctor in charge: Dr. De'Rosario.'

'Presence of Human Immuno-deficiencyVirus:'

He read and it sank in, but couldn't believe it.

For first time in the last few months, Greg buried his face into his arms and cried.

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He heard the scream of pain that wasn't his. Then sweet oxygen filled his lungs as he fell to the cold hard ground.

Sara…

Lifting his head, Greg saw her holding her gun and the trigger already pulled. Behind him, he heard a grunt and running footsteps.

Should he run too? No, he didn't need to, Sara was there for him.

"Greg?" her voice shook as she called out his name.

"Hey." He answered, not getting up from the ground and he didn't want to, only Sara was helping him up before he could protest. "Where's… Tom?"

"He ran. Robins went after him."

Robins had to be the cop dude. "You shot Tom?"

"The paramedics are on their way."

He didn't ask her that. "Did you shoot Tom?" he repeated, for some weird reason, he was getting annoyed that she wasn't answering him.

"Oh my god, Greg, you're bleeding."

Was he? There was blood on him, but he didn't think it was his, "No, I think it's Tom's. He cut himself with the…" He cringed with pain and groaned. That had hurt, why was Sara hurting him?

"Greg, you have a cut. He… I mean Tom must have grazed you."

Her fingers danced lightly on the wound and pressed on it, he didn't feel anything before. Slowly, he lifted his own hand and felt the ache under his ear, the warm liquid dripped over his hands, mixing with Tom's. "You're hurting me."

"I'm trying to stop the bleeding."

He knew she was right. The brain was getting foggy and jumbled up.

"You shot Tom?" he asked again.

"Yes."

"Ok."

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What was it?

Her own heart skipped two or three beats. She slid down to the floor, on her knees, focusing on Greg. "Tell me." She whispered to him, bringing her face next to his, and praying for the best.

Greg remained buried in his arms and hid there.

He held up the white piece of paper at her to look at.

She never knew something so small and harmless could tell an entire future. "Just tell me," she refused to read, she wanted to know straight from him.

His body began to shake when she realised his was crying.

God, no.

It couldn't be…

Snatching the slip from his hands, Sara smoothened it out so that she could read it better and not misinterpret the readings.

And then she saw it. The answer they've been waiting for so long since the incident.

She collapsed to the floor and sat there, staring at it, making sure it was real and not an illusion- not something she saw out of desperation.

Folding and unfolding the paper, she made one more confirmation and crumpled it. It didn't matter anymore; they already had what they came for.

Crushing the sheet to as small as it could be, she threw her arms around Greg and cried with him.

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Robins couldn't catch up with the maniac and he slipped away.

It didn't matter much, Greg was safe, and that was the most important thing. Robins' partner finally showed up, she hoped he was going to be reprimanded for leaving them behind as he did.

Whatever.

Looking over to the ambulance, she could see Greg sitting on the stretcher and staring into space. "You okay?"

He blinked and that was it. No wisecrack- nothing.

"Greg?" she reached out to clasp his shoulder but here barely flinched. Something wasn't right. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's in shock, ma'am." The Asian paramedic stood next to her and wrapped a blanket around Greg's shoulders. "He did lose a lot of blood."

Sara traced the cut on his baby face with her eyes; temporary bandages were in place until they got to a hospital. "But some of it wasn't his blood." Greg's shirt was caked up in dried brown stains; it was going to be hell to clean that.

"Excuse me?" her badge read Tracy.

"The man that held him hostage had been bleeding all over him."

Tracy frowned, ruining her Chinese features slightly.

"What?"

"Did you guys catch him?"

Sara furrowed her brows before answering, "No… I don't think so." She shook her head to illustrate.

"Who was he?"

"Some homeless guy, probably a junkie who had-." Sara caught on quick to where the paramedic had been going. Why didn't she think about it sooner? "Oh no…"

"It's a small possibility, probably nothing," Tracy was already packing up the equipment, ready to hit the road as fast as possible. "He'll have to take the blood test, just to be sure."

"How long before we know?" this battle was far from over.

"We need to wait three months before the HIV virus becomes apparent in a patient. Until then, everyone just needs to sit tight."

"But…" Sara cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady and not burst into irrational tears. "I mean, HIV transmission through between open wounds from a carrier's blood and a none infected is pretty minimal."

"Yes it is," She didn't sound very confident of Sara's statement.

Sara knew the statistics; innocent victims are infected just through small cut, a break in the skin when an infected person's fluid, or in this case blood, to pass the virus. Her vision filled with Tom's blood on Greg, the struggle… his cut. "I'm coming along." She hopped onto the ambulance before Tracy could close the doors on them.

"Grissom."

Sara whirled her attention on Greg. She didn't know he was listening in. "Greg?"

"Someone." He blinked again. "Report…"

"Who's Grissom?" Tracy quizzed, trying to make Greg lie down. It didn't take too long for her to do that with Greg being in his catatonic state.

"Our supervisor…" Sara hung her head low to think. "He wants me to report to my supervisor. Someone needs to."

She had waited long enough for Sara to decide before asking again, "Are you still coming?"

Sara took the steps out of the ambulance, and her sight lingered on Greg. She wanted to stay with him to tell him it was going to be just fine and everything would work out. "I'll catch up later." She mumbled.

The vehicle revved up and Tracy slammed the doors shut. Somewhere near her, a mobile phone rang.

"Sidle…" she croaked into the phone.

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Has it ended?

He figured that it finally did. A single word that told him all.

'Presence of Human Immuno-deficiencyVirus: Negative'

The tears weren't of sadness or was it for joy- it was utter relief. The fear had ebbed away and the cold had been washed off. "Thank you." He whispered into her ear.

"For what?" she looked at him, her eyes red from crying with him.

"For being there for me even when I didn't know I needed it."

"You would've done the same for me."

The walk around the hospital grounds was therapeutic; he just didn't feel like sitting in a car and going home. He wanted to be out. "Would I?"

"You doubting me now?"

They stopped right on the pavement and faced each other. "Maybe I am." He shrugged and laughed.

He had hoped Sara would join the laughter, but she didn't, instead another tear rolled down her cheek. He took one of her hands into his as they shared the warmth he didn't have a few hours ago, his thumb found its way to her cheek as he brushed it off. "Don't cry."

"You laughed."

He only stared back at her.

"I haven't seen you laugh for a long time."

"Yeah, well I'm gonna be laughing a lot now."

"Good." She wrapped her other free hand around his. "One more thing."

"What is it?" Their foreheads met and he lowered his eyelids. Whatever it was she had wanted to say, Greg wouldn't care. He was happy where he was.

"It's raining."

"I know." He could feel the tiny drops falling on his back, dampening his shirt and drenching his hair dripping down the side of his face. It felt good.

There was no kiss between, not right then.

Pulling her closer, he hug her and she returned the embrace. Together they stood there, under the purity of the rain from above, cleansing them off any doubts and fears.

It was a new start.

A lease on life.

Today, he was truly free, truly blessed, truly amazed and… he was truly in love with her.

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Thanks to chrissy0, lins, Liz, and kegel for the lovely reviews.
Celsie & Unlikely-to-bear-it: I hope you aren't confused anymore ;)
WelcomeToTheJungle: Thanks a lot for the compliment, it's an honour when someone notes to a writer that his/her intepretation of the canon players are in character. In a fandom as big as CSI is, it's sometimes hard to find writers who still focus on the original characters and not inject too much of what the writer wishes in the canons.
LocoGreggo: Oh, don't get me wrong, I ama Sara/Greg fan, just that I'm not a person who writes a lot of fluff. I'm not a big fan of this fluff thing, can bearly stand the overwhelming romance in some stories, heck. I couldn't even stand the whole Padme/Anakin 'ship in Star Wars.

Thanks for reading.

Cheers
-Jo