I have one more chapter planned for this story, and I want to thank everyone who is reviewing, I love reading your thoughts. I do want to point out again real quick here that this is a challenge fic, from the GregSara yahoo groups, The idea itself is not mine, but the portrayal is. Thanks again, and keep reviewing!

Chapter Five: Closure

Sara tapped her fingers endlessly on the countertop, letting out an impatient sigh. The man in front of her turned around, frowning as he took his glasses off for a moment, polishing them quickly before sliding them on.

"Can I help you?"

Sara gritted her teeth as she prepared to repeat the same question she had already asked three different times. "I'm looking for a Mr. Greg Sanders, he checked in this hotel just a few days ago. Can you tell me what room he is in?"

"We can't release that information," the man replied tiredly, reaching under the counter. He pulled out a cloth, folding it in half before running it over the countertop. He paused just as it brushed her arm, clearing his throat.

Letting out a sigh she stepped back, allowing him to finish his cleaning. "Look, he's involved in an ongoing investigation; I need to ask him a few questions. You can either give me his room number, or I can get a warrant, close down your place for few hours while we check all your computer records, and ask my question, make it all public. That wouldn't go over too well with business."

She couldn't make it anymore of a lie. There would be no way she could obtain a warrant, and simply stating that it was an ongoing investigation could land her in trouble. But she was hoping that the manager would be like all the others, breaking easily under pressure. One thing was for certain, they didn't like the sound of lost money.

"Look, Ms. Sidle, I don't want to make this anymore of a hassle than it is already. As long as you keep it quiet, I'll give you number. I don't want to make any of my guests uncomfortable, have them think I just give information away on a whim."

"Of course not," Sara nodded, secretly releasing the breath she had been holding. Shifting from one foot to the other she leaned back against the polished counter, doing her best to see the computer screen as he typed in the name.

"Room 304, third floor. Do you need a key as well?" He asked snappishly, his face drawn into a frown.

"That won't be necessary," she told him with a smile, somewhat mocking his frown. She was relieved her plan had worked, knowing ahead of time that the information would be withheld. The only problem now was getting Greg to listen…let alone get him to open the door.

She could have taken a key, could have entered the room under her own terms, but she knew it wasn't right. The only way she would be able to talk with him was when he was ready. She grabbed the railing with her right hand, making her way up the stairs. The plane ride had been long, leaving her unable to sleep, or relax even. She had mustered together the best she could, of what she would say when she saw him.

Sara had to admit it, she was afraid. Afraid of what she would find, afraid of what would happen, afraid of being rejected. She laughed bitterly. After all she had done, and all she could think about was herself.

"I'm…ah, I'm going to head home…" Greg's voice was low, despondent; his back turned towards her as he pulled off his gloves.

"You feeling okay?"

"I'm f…I think I'm coming down with something."

"Do you want a ride home?"

"No," he waved her offer away, bringing his one free hand up to his eyes. "No…I'm okay…"

She should have noticed it then…Greg had been so up at the beginning of their shift, then all of the sudden his mood had changed. She had been too absorbed in her case before then, so much that she had missed it, but the more she thought of it, she realized. Greg had been crying then.

She bit her lip as she came to the top of the stairs, hesitating on going any further. Maybe it was better just to leave him…why would he want to see the one person who hurt him so deeply. Swallowing, she forced herself to take the last step, letting go of the railing.

"304…" she whispered, her eyes tracking the numbered plates on the wall. "To the left…"

Sara counted the rooms as she walked by, arms swinging freely at her side, 307…306…305…304.

At first, all she could do was stare at the door…the one thing separating them, the only thing standing in her way. Raising a shaky fist she rapped the wooden structure, just below the number plate.

Silence…not surprising in the least. She moved to knock again, but stopped as the handle turned, the door opening an arm's width. As soon as it had opened, it was once again closing, but not fast enough. Sara managed to get her foot in the gap, bracing the door with her arm.

"Greg, please, we need to talk," she shouted breathlessly, attempting to work her way further into the room.

He wasn't pushing the door anymore, but neither was he letting it open any further. She felt the door move as he shifted his weight, presumably to lean back against the other side.

"Greg?" she started again, only to become lost in her own words. Before, she had figured out a way to tell him, to explain it all. And now it was all gone…

"Greg…let me in…please?" she was begging now, pleading with him. Taking a breath she gathered herself to ask again, ignoring the looks she was getting by those walking by. Before she could say anything, the pressure off the door was released, leaving her standing there.

Pushing the door opened she could him, or his shadow actually, playing against the ceiling as he moved onto the single bed. Stepping inside she closed the door behind her slowly, moving towards the center of the room. Greg didn't meet her gaze, his eyes fixed on the television in front of him.

A news station showed several clips of fire trucks, while in the distance a fire burned. It was muted, the remote laying at the end of the bed. She sat down next to it, her eyes trailing his form until she reached his eyes.

"Greg?"

His eyes flicked to meet hers briefly, before turning to the screen once more. Dressed in only a pair of sweats the warm red colors of the broadcasted fire danced across his bare chest, up his arms and covered his face.

"I know you're mad at me…you have every right to be. I thought I knew what I was doing…but I guess I didn't stop to think about you…"

"I was a fool…" Greg interrupted her. He took in a shaky breath, his gaze still fixed straight ahead. "I was stupid to think you actually cared about me…"

"I do care…" she started, but he was quick to interrupt.

"Don't say that, don't lie…I'm sick of you lying."

"I'm not lying Greg," she said sternly, resisting the urge to move closer to him. "I do care about you…I just didn't realize it before."

"No…there's no possible way you could care about me, and do what you did. It's not possible."

She opened her mouth to argue, but had nothing to say. There was nothing she could come up with to argue his point. The colors changed as the channel went into commercials, casting different shadows across the wall behind them.

"It hurts…" Greg breathed, "it really does hurt when you realize that you're worthless…"

"You're everything but worthless Greg," Sara cut him off. "I care for you; the whole team cares for you. Everyone's worried sick…if you can only see what you're doing to everyone, but you don't even care, do you?"

"Don't you dare turn this against me," Greg warned, reaching up hastily to wipe a fallen tear away. He took a moment to compose himself, his voice calmer that it was before. "Are we done?"

He was close to his breaking point, and as much as she wanted to leave, she knew she had to stay. "Why did you leave?" she asked instead, taking the opportunity to scoot a little closer. "You could have said something to me, you could have even asked. Instead you disappear without a word; you leave everyone worried, not to mention all the money you've cost the department looking for you."

"I thought leaving would change everything, clear things up. I'd start a new life, find new friends…" he took another deep breath, his voice hitching as he continued. "I was wrong…there isn't anyone out there who really cares…someone out there was cold enough to use me…I was just an item, something you could throw away when you were finished."

He lost it then, burying his head into his hands, a muffled sob escaping his lips as his shoulders shook. His last comment had also hit a cord in Sara, leaving her speechless as she watched this grown man cry. It was only then that everything sunk in, leaving her to realize how much she had hurt him.

Gently she reached across the space between him, touching his shoulder tentatively. He pulled away the first time, but when she tried again he did not flinch, allowing her to pull him into an embrace.

"I'm sorry Greg…" she told him, wrapping her arms around him securely, "I'm so sorry…"

It would be so easy…so very easy, at this moment in time to just leave. To get up and walk out the door, to run away once again. He had hoped that they wouldn't be able to follow him, had hoped that they had given up looking for him, had hoped they really didn't care. At the same time he knew he couldn't hide forever. The questions would be easier to face sooner rather than later.

He had considered suicide…had actually tried to kill himself. He glanced down as he turned his wrists over; the cuts were still not fully healed. Closing his eyes as the tears threatened once again, Greg drew in a deep breath, praying that it wouldn't start again.

He hadn't been strong enough to face Sara about the problem, hadn't been strong enough to kill himself…hadn't been strong enough to hold himself together. A small sob escaped his lips, and he quickly clamped a hand against his mouth, muffling the cry.

Sara stirred next to him, but didn't fully wake. He had asked her to stay…after everything…he wasn't even strong enough to stand up for his beliefs. Where did that leave him?

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there's something I think you should know."

Greg cringed inwardly as the memory came back to him. Normally he would have never believed him, would have never listened, but the look in his eyes told him that he wasn't lying.

"Sara isn't in love with you…she's just using you to make Grissom jealous."

"How so," Greg asked, barely listening as the lab rat as he rattled on.

"Can't you see it for yourself? The only time she pays attention to you is when Grissom is around. If something happens outside the lab, Sara leaves hints. How do you think all those rumors started? Then there is what you don't see, her hanging out by his door at the end of the shift, how hurt she looks when Sofia even gets close to him."

Greg looked up slowly, the test results in his hands shaking slightly. "I…I don't believe you. Sara wouldn't do that."

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm just trying to look out for you. I know, not everyone likes me, and I can be a bit…crude sometimes, but I know what human morals are. It shouldn't happen to anyone."

Greg didn't say anything, only meeting his gaze. He didn't want to believe it, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was right.

"I'm sorry," Hodges said quietly. "I just thought you should know."

He dried his eyes, taking another deep breath. She had asked him to come back, had begged him. As much as he wanted too, he didn't know if that was a possibility. He didn't know if he could face every day, knowing that he would see her; didn't know if he could face the others, if he could find an answer to everything.

At the same time he couldn't stand the thought of not seeing her…it was a bitter feeling. He still loved her, even after all she had done, he still loved her. Greg bit his bottom lip as he dropped his eyes. Yes, he loved her, but she didn't return that love. So where, then, did this leave him?

TBC