A/N: So...another kinda random chapter, though this one does actually further the plot. Usual disclaimer, once more...and ONWARD!

Chapter 34- Believe

"Wanna hold my wife when I get home
Wanna tell the kids they'll never know
How much I love to see them smile
Wanna make a change right here, right now
Wanna live a life like you somehow
Wanna make your sacrifice worthwhile

Everything is gonna be alright
Everything is gonna be alright
Everything is gonna be alright
Be strong, believe

(Think about the love inside, the strength of heart)
Everything is gonna be alright
(Think about the heroes saving life in the dark
Everything is gonna be alright
(Think about the chance I never had to say)
Everything is gonna be alright
(Thank you for giving up your life that day)
Be strong, believe"

Believe by Yellowcard

So it was that Greg and Sara's days settled into a simple routine. They spent as much time together as possible outside of work, and even at work they took their breaks with each other. Everyone who knew them had to agree that married life seemed to agree with them. Never had either been happier.

Of course, as with all of the best-made plans, this routine was soon interrupted by a surprise that neither of them foresaw.

It began one late afternoon in January. Greg was late as usual for work, and hence was hopping around the house trying to put a sick on while at the same time attempting to brush his teeth. It was at this moment that the phone rang. Greg mentally groaned as he grabbed it and said through a mouthful of toothpaste, "He-wo?"

A clipped voice on the other end said politely, "This is Ann Thompson from Social Services calling for a Mr. Gregory Sanders."

Spitting his toothpaste in the sink, Greg said in clearer tones, "This is he. What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Mr. Sanders, are you free to come into our office tomorrow? An issue has arisen with a little girl, Nicola Hillsburg."

Greg stopped what he was doing. "What's wrong? Is she ok?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sanders, but I cannot answer any questions over the phone."

He swallowed, hard. "Sure, I can come over tomorrow. What time?"

"Anytime before six will be adequate. Do you need directions to our office?"

"No, thank you ma'am. Good-bye." He hung up the phone and stared at it, a million possibilities running through his head.

He then did the only thing that made sense for him to do; he went to go find Grissom. He drove to work in a daze, and, hardly even realizing what he was doing, burst into the meeting room, interrupting Grissom in mid-sentence. "Griss, I need to talk to you. Now. Outside."

Grissom gave Sara a bewildered look, which she returned, before he stood and followed his lab tech outside. Greg was clearly agitated, shifting his weight and fidgeting. When they were outside and the door was shut, Grissom began, "Greg, what—"

"Something's happened, Griss. Something's happened to Nicola." Panic laced Greg's voice, and his eyes were wide with fear. "They won't tell me what happened, and I'm so worried, and…"

"Whoa, Greg, slow down! What happened?"

Greg took a ragged breath before starting over. "I was at home and Social Services called. They said that an 'issue' has arisen with Nicola, and that I have to go to their office tomorrow. I asked what happened, but they wouldn't tell me." He looked worriedly at the older man. "You gotta help me, Griss," he begged.

"Alright, alright," said Grissom placatingly. "I'll see what I can find out. In the meantime, you had better get to work. And you can have tomorrow off if you need to."

"Thanks, Griss," said Greg with a sigh of relief. He looked over his shoulder into the meeting room. "Er…I'd better let you get back to your meeting. Sorry to barge in like that."

"Never apologize for needing me, Greg," said Grissom gently. "Now go process some DNA."

"Yes sir," said Greg, turning and going to the DNA lab.

Grissom frowned deeply. After he had finished his meeting and given out all the assignments, he made a beeline to his office, calling up his contacts at Social Services. They couldn't tell him much, but they were able to tell him one crucial thing, one crucial thing that may help explain things to Greg.

After he found this out, he went and found Greg, who was in the DNA lab. "Oh, hey, Grissom," called Greg over the music. He quickly turned it down. "What can I do for you?"

"Greg, we need to talk."

Instantly, Greg was serious. "Alright, what's going on? Were you able to reach someone at Social Services?"

Grissom sighed. "Yes, but my contact couldn't tell me much. The only thing that she could tell me was that…" He faltered.

"Griss, what is it? What happened?"

"Greg, Melissa is dead."

Greg sat down, hard. He shook his head, unable to believe it. "No, it can't be." He looked up at Grissom, tears for his friend welling in his dark eyes. "How? What happened?"

Grissom sighed and sat down as well. "There was an accident. I don't know all the details, but somehow, their house caught on fire. Melissa died saving Nicola." Grissom paused and watched as Greg took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "Do you want to go home?"

Greg looked up, brown eyes unreadable. "No, I'll be fine. Besides, there's a ton of evidence to run."

Grissom frowned, a line creasing his forehead. "Greg, it's ok to go home. I'll get the day shift tech to cover you."

Shrugging, Greg stood up. "No, really, Griss, I'm better off here. What am I going to do at home? Sit and dwell on it? I'll be useful here, and it'll keep my mind off it." He gave Grissom a small grin, and it was this gesture that truly reassured Grissom that Greg was going to be ok. Greg walked over to the microscope, calling over his shoulder, "When Sara gets back from her scene, will you send her in here?"

"Sure, Greg," said Grissom, standing and leaving. He went into his office and sat down, staring blankly into space. He had just talked to Melissa at Greg's wedding. How could she be dead? Vaguely, he wondered what Melissa's death would mean for Nicola, and what it all had to do with Greg. He sighed and shuffled the papers on his desk. He would simply have to wait and see.

Greg arrived at the Las Vegas Social Services office at exactly 4:30 pm the next day. He went inside and told the receptionist who he was and why he was there. She told him to wait a few minutes, and that someone would be with him shortly. He didn't have to wait long before a short African-American woman joined him. Extending her hand to shake, she said, "Greg Sanders? I'm Ann Thompson from Child Welfare. We spoke on the phone."

Shaking her hand, Greg offered her an uneasy grin. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I'm ready to help in whatever way I possibly can."

Nodding, she led him to her office. Sitting down behind her desk, she asked, "I presume you know what happened?"

Greg tried not to look guilty. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled slightly. "I figured as much. After all, you work at the crime lab. I would've been disappointed if you hadn't found out." Now her expression turned serious. "Mr. Sanders, how do you know Mrs. Hillsburg?"

"I worked on her case a couple of years ago."

Ann nodded, writing something down on a pad of paper. "Would you say that you are close to Nicola?"

"As close as I can possibly be, considering we live nowhere near each other. I write, call when I can. I sent birthday cards, Christmas cards. She came and visited me in the hospital when I was sick. She and her mother came to my wedding a few weeks ago." He paused, then asked earnestly, "Ma'am, what is this about?"

She avoided the question. "Mr. Sanders, to your knowledge, does Nicola regard you as a sort of father-figure?"

Greg looked taken aback. "I have no idea," he said, brow furrowing in confusion as he ran a hand through his hair.

She sighed, then asked, "Mr. Sanders, are you capable of taking care of a young child?"

He frowned, then asked slowly, "Where are you going with this?"

Ann sighed. "In Mrs. Hillsburg's will, she left explicit instructions that Nicola should go to you if she died."

Greg's mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh my God."

"Mrs. Hillsburg never informed you of her intentions?"

Greg shook his head, still unable to believe it. "No, she never talked about it."

Ann nodded, then reached for an envelope on her desk. "Mrs. Hillsburg also left instructions that you receive this letter."

Taking it with trembling fingers, Greg opened it and slowly read the penned words.

"Greg—

If you're reading this, then something had happened and I am no longer able to care for Nicola. Henceforth, I'm leaving it up to you to do so.

Now, I know you're probably wondering why the hell I would choose you, of all people, to raise my daughter. Well, the truth is, who else could possibly raise her as well as you could? You have no idea what an influence you have been on her. She loves you so much. You're a hero to her, and I know that she would never be happy with anyone except you.

So please, Greg, please take Nicola. Love her for me.

—Melissa"

Greg felt one tear slowly drip down his cheek and onto the paper. Ann looked at him, then asked, "Will you take her?"

Greg looked up, unsure. "I…I don't know."

"Mr. Sanders, she has nowhere else to go."

Greg took a deep breath, then said in what he hoped was a confident voice, "I'll take her."

Ann looked at him seriously. "Are you sure? A child is a big responsibility, and if you don't think you're up to it—"

"No," said Greg, cutting her off. "I'm taking her. I have to."

Ann nodded, then asked gently, "Mr. Sanders, I don't want you to think of this as something you have to do. It should be something you want to do." Greg shrugged, not looking at her. Sitting back in her chair, she asked, "Mr. Sanders, do you love her?"

He met her eyes. "More than words could ever tell. And I want to take her. I really do. It's just…"

"What?" she asked.

"Well…see…" He paused, then said quietly, "I have AIDS. And less than a year to live. I don't want to give Nicola a home only to have her lose it a couple of months from now."

Ann sighed. "Mr. Sanders, you're married, right? All you and your wife need to do is legally adopt Nicola, and even after your death, she will still be able to stay with your wife."

Greg nodded, but then said quietly, "I don't want to force her into this. She's already lost both of her parents, she doesn't need to lose another."

"Why don't you ask her what she wants?"

Greg looked up at her. "Can I? Can I talk to her and explain it?"

"I don't see why not," said Ann, shrugging. "After all, we have no legal grounds to restrict you from taking her, so preventing you from seeing her would be illegal. I'll just go get her."

Greg nodded wordlessly, then sat back in his seat, waiting for Nicola to arrive. And then there she was, her usual energy hidden behind tearstains on her cheeks. "Oh, Nicola," sighed Greg, reaching out his arms.

She ran into them, hugging him tightly. "Greg!" she wailed, burying her head in his shirt. He held her gently while she cried, stroking her hair. When she finished, she leaned back and sniffled, "Greg, do I get to go home with you?

"Only if you want to, sweetie," said Greg.

"Why wouldn't I want to?" she asked.

He sighed and said gently, "Nicola, remember how I was sick?" She nodded wordlessly. "Well, I'm still sick. Really sick. So sick that in a couple of months, I'm going to die." Nicola's eyes went wide and she buried her head in Greg's shirt again. He sighed sadly. "So, are you sure you still want to come live with me?"

"Yes," she said vehemently, raising her eyes to his. "There's nowhere else I want to be. I want to go live with you and Sara."

"Ok, sweetheart," said Greg soothingly. He stood up and took her hand, looking at Ann. "Is there anything I need to do?"

"Just fill out these custody forms," she said, handing them to her. "You can turn them in later, though. And start petitioning the state right away to adopt her."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, reaching out and shaking her hand once more. To Nicola, he said, "Alright, now let's go home."

"Greg?" asked Nicola timidly. "Can I call you 'Daddy' now?"

Greg scooped her up into a hug. "You can call me 'Daddy' forever."