Next part's up folks...

The paramedic decided it was necessary to take Sara to the hospital for a few hours observation. It was a head wound after all, he had explained to her as she protested wildly. Grissom had watched on, inwardly smiling at the prime example of Sara's personality. Yet he had stopped smiling when she had pointedly requested that he did not come to the hospital with her and that he did not tell anyone what he had seen.

"This changes nothing."

"This changes everything, Sara."

"I'm still going. All this has done is delayed the inevitable."

"I can't believe you're saying that. You don't really want to leave."

"And you can be sure of that because…"

Grissom stared, deep into Sara's eyes. There was nothing there. Absolutely nothing. Could it be that he was wrong? That she really did feel nothing for any of them? Maybe she honestly just wanted to leave everything behind. In an instant he went from feeling indignant and angry that she could just pack up and go like that then stand in front of him and say it was what she wanted, to total self doubt. All his arguments went out of his head. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, fishlike.

"Just go, Grissom."

Sara turned and followed the paramedic into an ambulance. Grissom watched as she sat herself down. Their gazes met as the doors were shut. If he wasn't mistaken he saw tears form in her eyes. His own certainly felt suspiciously moist. Could it be that he had just let his second chance slip through his fingers?

Hastily Sara rubbed her eyes to rid them of the tears that were gathering. She spoke harshly to herself in her mind. Just because she was feeling upset didn't mean she wasn't making the right decision. It was inevitable; a car crash would upset anyone. There was nothing significant in the fact that facing Grissom had been far more painful than leaving the lab and leaving her apartment. He wanted nothing of her except her professional expertise; he had made that perfectly clear. And she had forced herself to accept it; there was no going back, especially not now.

She looked around her sterile surroundings. She had always hated hospitals. They held nothing but bad memories; they were full of negative connotations. And a hospital on wheels was just as bad. She contemplated for a moment making an escape the next time they stopped at some traffic lights, and then laughed at her own absurdity. Not only was her car in a right state but her suitcase was still in the back. She would have to do something about collecting it once she had been discharged.

The journey passed in a never-ending cycle of sad thoughts, past regrets and considerations of the future. Only the near future, mind you; Sara couldn't begin to think beyond the next few weeks. Eventually they arrived at the hospital. Sara stepped out, a headache beginning to emerge from the area of her wound. She was shown to a crowded waiting room and assured her wait would not be long. She sat herself as far away from the crowds as possible. It was the complete truth when she said that she by far and away preferred dead people to sick ones.

The hospital was true to its words. Sara was shown to a bed only 10 minutes after her arrival. She rested her throbbing head on a surprisingly soft pillow and felt herself dozing off…

The next thing she knew a person was standing at her bedside. No, not a person. Two people: Catherine and Nick. She sat up with a start.

"What- why- I-" Words failed her. "Grissom-"

"He called us," Catherine said gently. "The minute they took you off in the ambulance."

"He had no right."

"Sara-" Nick began. "How could you do it, Sara?"

"Don't Nick. Please."

"You were just going to leave without a word."

"The letter-"

Nick scoffed. Sara's chest began to hurt, but it was nothing any medicinal cure could deal with, she was sure. She couldn't bear this. That was why she had avoided personal goodbyes.

"A letter? After all those years – a few lines?"

"It was better that way."

"For who exactly?"

"For everyone." Sara felt a lump rise in her throat and attempted to swallow it. "I'm still going. I told Grissom that. He shouldn't have told you I was here. He shouldn't even have stopped on that road."

"You really think he'd find you in the middle of a pile up and just drive past? Come on, Sara."

"What does he care? There are plenty of CSIs out there just raring to get a job like mine."

"Not as good as you there aren't. And anyway you mean a lot more to him than just the job." Nick seemed awkward speaking the words but not half as awkward as Sara felt hearing them. She had been over this far too many times. She wasn't going to do it again.

"I'm replaceable, Nick. I know it, you know it. There's no point in pretending otherwise. And if all this is some attempt to make me stay then it's not going to work. I'm decided."

Nick looked disbelieving. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. With an exasperated look at Sara he walked away. Sara closed her eyes and rested her head on the pillow once again.

"He's right you know." Catherine's voice penetrated the aching blur of Sara's thoughts and she slowly opened her eyes. "I don't think you realise how much he cares. All of us do." She turned to leave. "Oh, by the way, Grissom took your suitcase back to your apartment. Looks like you'll be spending one more night here. I hope that won't be too much of an effort for you."

The dryness of Catherine's voice would usually have sparked an angry retort from Sara but right now she didn't have the energy. She allowed herself to drop off into restless sleep again, but what came with this was ten times worse than that which occupied her mind whilst she was awake.

A thousand tangled branches and roots grabbed at her legs as she struggled onwards. They mauled and scratched her; a cocktail of pain penetrating her body every second. Her breath was short and desperate. With each step she felt herself grow closer to her own breaking point. And then she heard the sound she had been dreading most. Footsteps behind her; they were gaining pace by the second. She tried to speed up but her attempts were futile. Suddenly she caught her foot on an object protruding from the ground and landed sprawled amongst the muddy undergrowth. She felt a hand on her back and let an almighty scream…
"Sara? Sara!" She heard Grissom's concerned voice as she transferred to a state of consciousness. His hand was on hers. It took her a second to register this fact; a second before she tore it away. "It's ok, honey. You're safe."

"I'm fine. Don't- I- You-" she murmured weakly. But the tears were already starting to fall.

"It's alright. I'm going nowhere."

"You have to. You have to leave. Now." But there was a lack of conviction in Sara's voice and she could feel her defences fall by the second. "This can't happen. It mustn't."

"What can't happen, Sara?"

"I can't let you in. No one. I don't want anyone."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't do it, Grissom." Tears were now flowing down Sara's cheeks. The moisture was like a gentle river, coursing over her pallid complexion. He took her hand gently, once again. This time she did not pull away. He asked no more questions until the river had run dry. Once she was composed, her colourless face dry and uninterrupted but for the cold blue bruises on her cheeks and the bandage on her forehead, he sat her up gently in the bed.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?"