A/N: I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter of the entire story. Woohoo. Italicized numerals in parentheses (i.e. (6)) refer to the footnote. There's so much in this chapter that I don't own, number one being the Bible and any quotes from it. I don't own any of the quotes or the Norwegian language. Otherwise, usual disclaimer still applies. Enjoy.

Chapter 45- If I Never Knew You

"If I never knew you
If I never felt this love
I would have no inkling of
How precious life can be
And if I never held you
I would never have a clue
Now at last I finally knew
The missing part of me

In this world so full of fear
Full of rage and lies
I can see the truth so clear
In your eyes
So dry your eyes

And I'm so grateful to you
I'd have lived my whole life through
Lost forever
If I never knew you

If I never knew you
I'd be safe but half as real
Never knowing I could feel
A love so strong and true
I'm so grateful to you
I'd have lived my whole life through
Lost forever
If I never knew you

I thought our love would be so beautiful
Somehow we make the whole world bright
I never knew that fear and hate could be so strong
All they'd leave us were these whispers in the night
But still my heart is singing we were right

If I never knew you
If I never knew your love
I would have no inkling of
How precious life can be

There's no moment I regret
Since the moment that we met
If our time has gone too fast
I've lived at last

I thought our love would be so beautiful
Somehow we make the whole world bright
I thought our love would be so beautiful
We'd turn the darkness into light
And still my heart is singing we were right
We were right

And if I never knew you
I'd have lived my whole life through
Empty as the sky
Never knowing why
Lost forever
If I never knew you"

If I Never Knew You as sung by Jon Secada and Shanice in Disney's Pocahontas

The day of October the 31st dawned bright and clear. There was something almost funny about Greg's funeral being held on Halloween. Sara had insisted on it, firstly, because it made sense, time-wise. It allowed the funeral home a day to make him ready, and then gave a day for the wake.

Technically, they should have had two days for the wake, due to all the people that came. Sara had never expected such an out-pouring of support.

Secondly, Sara knew that Greg would've wanted his funeral on Halloween. After all, his semi-goth side had always reveled in the pagan day of spirits.

Either way, while the day of his funeral was bright and strangely cheerful, the 30th of October, the day of Greg's wake, was dark and damp. Sara knew it was going to be hell. She arrived at the funeral home around two in the afternoon; the wake was scheduled to begin at three.

Just going into that stale room that reeked of death and formaldehyde made Sara's stomach clench. Greg's casket had already been moved into the room and the florist was bringing in the flowers. A string of people brought in the flowers…and more flowers…and more flowers…It was only then that Sara realized how many lives Greg had touched. Bouquets and arrangements poured in from friends all across America, from college buddies from Stanford to old friends from New York to people Sara had never even heard of. At that moment, though, she loved them all.

She was not alone at the funeral home, however. Grissom, Nick, Warrick and Catherine also joined her. Together they sat in the main room, trying hard not to look at Greg's coffin, which dominated one end of the room. Sara turned to Catherine and asked quietly, "Where're the girls?"

"They're with Lindsey and my mother," said Catherine, just as quietly. "My mom's bringing them by later. I though Nicola would want to be here, at least for a little while."

Sara nodded slowly, mind still numb. Suddenly, she started to chuckle. "You know what's funny?" she asked, rocking back and forth as she laughed. "I'm not even forty years old yet and I'm a widow. I'm a widow." Her laughter turned to sobs and she broke down.

Both Grissom and Nick, who were sitting beside her, wrapped their arms around her. Neither could think of anything to say to comfort her, so they both just let her cry it out.

A few minutes later, her tears subsided, and she sniffled loudly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't want to cry today."

"Sara, it's ok to cry," whispered Catherine, kneeling in front of her and taking one of her hands and squeezing it. "Greg won't be mad at you for crying. In fact," she said, smiling gently, "I imagine he'd be royally pissed if you didn't cry. You know how he likes attention."

"Liked attention," corrected Sara softly.

"No, Sara, likes attention," said Catherine, just as softly. "He still exists, even if just in our hearts and memories."

The funeral home director came up to Sara then. "Mrs. Sanders, we're going to start letting people in now. If you'd like to stand up next to the casket…"

Sara nodded mutely and slowly stood. The rest of the CSIs stood as well, looking uncomfortable. She turned to them. "Come stand with me," she whispered.

Warrick shook his head slowly. "No, it's supposed to be for family only, and…"

"You were his family," said Sara gently. "All of you, all of us, we were the only family he had. He would want you up here."

Grissom nodded in assent and stood next to her. Nick, Catherine and Warrick followed suit, all standing in a line next to Greg's casket. The doors opened, and the first people came in, led by Doc Robbins and his wife, followed by Archie, Bobby, Jacqui and Hodges.

Doc Robbins took his time at Greg's casket. Though he couldn't kneel on the provided kneeler, he stood there for a good five minutes, looking over Greg with a saddened look on his face. After a few minutes, he walked over to Sara and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "He was so young," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "It's something I'll never understand: why men like me grow old and men like Greg die so young."

"Think about it, Doc," whispered Sara, though tears shone in her eyes, too. "Would Greg honestly want to grow old and bent? Could you imagine him with gray hair? He went in his prime, and I somehow think it's what he would've wanted."

"Maybe," agreed Doc Robbins, "but it doesn't make it any easier."

"No," said Sara. "Nothing will ever make it any easier."

Doc Robbins nodded and moved on, allowing the line behind him to move as well. Over the next few hours, Sara shook hands and hugged more people than she ever had before, including probably hundreds of people she had never even heard of or met before.

Finally, around eight, the line began to wind down. They had originally planned on ending the wake at eight, but Sara asked to extend it to nine, so all the people waiting could say good-bye to Greg.

When everyone had finished, it was all the CSIs' turns. Warrick went first. He smiled sadly at Greg. "Hey, man, I'll see you in the next life, alright? In the meantime, try not to give the big guy up there too much trouble."

Catherine went next. She kneeled down next to him and whispered, "We all miss you, Greggo. Watch over us all."

Nick almost threw himself on the kneeler, allowing himself to cry for the first time that day. "I don't know what to say, man," he choked out. "I've already said it all. I guess good-bye, one last time. I miss you."

Grissom knelt next. He looked at the still body of his once vibrant lab tech, the man who had once been so alive. He said the only words that came to him.

"Hail Mary, full of grace For the Lord is with Thee
Blessed art thou among women
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb
Holy Mary, mother of God
Pray for us sinners now
And at the hour of our death
Amen."

He looked at Greg with tears in his normally stoic eyes. "Good-bye, my son," he whispered.

Sara started shaking uncontrollably as she knelt next to Greg's open casket. "Greg," she croaked, reaching in and touching his hand, oblivious to how cold it was. "Greg, I miss you. I wish you hadn't have had to go. God, I miss you." She stood slowly. "Good-bye, love. I'll see you again one day, and I'll never forget you. I promise." She looked down at him and attempted a smile. "You look peaceful," she told him. 'That's one good thing."

He did look at peace, eyes closed as if he was asleep. He was dressed in his favorite t-shirt, that blue "Sex on T.V." shirt, along with a pair of jeans and, of course, his old, scuffed Converse shoes. His hair was spiked and, sans his pale, gaunt face, he almost looked normal.

She smiled at him once more through her tears and blew him a kiss. "Good night, Greggo. See you tomorrow."

Sara sat on the couch early the next morning, cradling her cup of coffee. It was Greg's coffee. She inhaled deeply and could almost smell him. That coffee aroma was a part of his scent, and it still lingered everywhere. She was wearing his old hoodie, snuggling deep in it. The smell of him was over-powering, so much that it almost brought tears to her eyes.

She glanced at the clock and saw that it read 4:30. She sighed and got up, walking to the shower. After showering and dressing, she got in her car and headed over to the church, mentally thanking Catherine for taking care of her girls last night. God knows she wouldn't have wanted to drag them to the church this earlier in the morning.

She actually arrived at the church before the pastor did. Luckily, it was unlocked, so she let herself in and settled into a pew, looking up at the figure of Jesus suspended above the alter, illuminated by the first light of dawn coming in through the stained glass windows. She stared at the benevolent-looking figure and whispered aloud, "God…Jesus…Odin…whoever you are, watch over Greg. Whether he's in Heaven or Valhalla or wherever, just please, keep him safe. Let him know I love him."

She sat in silence for almost an hour, the dusty sunlight filtering in around her, casting multi-colored shadows over the pews and sanctuary. The door in the back creaked open and the little old pastor that had married her and Greg shuffled in. He didn't look surprised to see her there. "Good morning," he said quietly, voice echoing slightly in the empty church. "How are you doing?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess," said Sara with a small half-smile. She stood as the pastor approached. "Sorry for being here so early."

"It's not a problem," said the pastor gently. "I'm sure you wanted to be with your husband."

"That and I needed to try and figure this whole thing out," she said quietly, eyes focusing sadly on Greg's casket at the front of the sanctuary. "I just don't understand why God would do this."

"Ah," said the pastor, nodding in understanding. "Yes. 'Eli, Eli, la'ma sabach-tha'ni?' 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?'(1)" He smiled sadly at her. "What you must remember is that all things do happen for a reason, though we on earth may never see it. But seek the answers, and you will find them. 'If you cry out for insight and raise your voice for understanding, if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures; then you will find the knowledge of God.'(2)"

Sara sighed. "I believe I will most likely spend the rest of my life trying to figure out the reason."

The pastor nodded slowly. "That very well may be. 'Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.'(3)" He paused, then said quietly, "Sorry to change the subject, but we need to discuss the service."

"Right," said Sara briskly. "I don't want there to be too much religious stuff. Greg didn't want it, and he was more into Norse mythology than God. Grissom, Nick and I will be giving eulogies. That should be about it."

"Ok," agreed the pastor with a nod. He smiled at her. "I'll try my hardest not to say too much 'religious stuff', alright?"

She smiled at him. "Thank you," she whispered. She hesitated, then asked quietly, "Will you give me your blessing, father?"

He sighed and looked at her compassionately. "Of course." Raising his hands over her in benediction, he intoned, "May God's peace, mercy, and grace be with you always. May his light guide your path to the answers you seek. Amen."

"Amen," whispered Sara.

"Come," said the pastor gently. "It's time to get ready."

Sara sat in a daze as everyone filed into church. She barely acknowledged Catherine, Grissom, Nick or Warrick as they sat next to her, instead holding Freya to her even tighter, eyes fixed on the mahogany box that contained the only man she would ever love. Barely listening as the pastor gave the opening comments, she only tuned back in as Grissom went up to give his eulogy.

Grissom's normal, stoic mask was in place, but nothing could hide the tears in his eyes or the tremble in his hands as he put his glasses on. Looking out over the crowd, he sighed deeply before speaking.

"Harriet Beecher Stowe once said, 'The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.' If there is one thing, and one thing only, that I am grateful for, it is the fact that we got to say good-bye, got to say what we needed to before Greg died.

"But can saying what we needed to atone for a man so young, so vibrant, so full of life dying? I don't know. I have no answers. Greg used to tell me that I had all the answers, but I don't anymore.

"When I first met Greg, he was twenty-two years old. Twenty-two and bored, because he was only working as the top research lab in California. I immediately recruited him for the lab; I recognized genius when I saw it. I only regret that I never took more time to tell him such. I think we all forgot just how adept Greg was at his job. He found DNA where there was no DNA to be found. He was running the number one DNA lab, in the number two crime lab, in the country before he was twenty-eight years old. He was offered hundreds of jobs every month, but he never left us. At least not until now."

His voice broke and had to pause to collect himself. When he spoke again, though, his voice showed no sign of weakness. "Socrates said, 'Death is one of two things. Either it is annihilation, and the dead have no consciousness of anything; or, as we are told, it is really a change: a migration of the soul from one place to another.' I think we know which one it is with Greg. He is still with us, and I know I speak for myself and my team when I speak the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. 'He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.'"

He surveyed the crowd once more before sitting down to tremendous applause. Nick stood up to take his place, walking to the front of the church. "Um, well, I'm gonna take a leaf out of Grissom's book and start with a quote, though mine isn't as profound. According to Albus Dumbledore, 'To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.' I agree, especially in Greg's case. He faced every challenge in his life as a new adventure, and I know he must've looked at death the same way.

I know the greatest of adventure of Greg's life was getting married, especially since it was to the woman he'd always loved. And it's really sad, devastating really, to me, because not even a year ago, I was making a speech at their wedding. Their love that has grown over this past year just amazes me. It's the purest love, the truest love I have ever seen. I said it then, and I'll say it now, their love and commitment is what makes me believe in love again. I know that Sara will never forget Greg, and he will never forget her. Just remember, Greggo, 'Do not forsake her, and she will keep you; love her, and she will guard you.'(4) That's from the book of Proverbs, and it's true. Sara will always keep and guard Greg in her heart because never once did he forsake her; never once did he stop loving her.

"Truth of the matter with Greg is that he will not just live on in Sara's heart, but in all of our hearts and minds. Greg will always be my best friend, through this life and the next. He's my brother, forever." He had to stop and wipe his eyes before continuing. "I love him, and I miss him, and I'm gonna stop now before I turn into a big ol' blubbering mess up here." There was gentle, appreciative chuckling that accompanied the applause given to Nick as he sat down.

A hush fell over the congregation as Sara stood, handing Freya to Catherine. She walked to the front of the church and looked over the sea of people, face a mask of external calm. "Good morning," she said quietly. "I, like both of my predecessors, will be beginning with a quote. Mine is from the first book of John, chapter four, verse eighteen. 'There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.'" She surveyed the congregation, pure determination on her face. "I have no fear that Greg and I will find each other one day. I have my doubts, yes. There are times that I believe it will be impossible for me to ever find him again, but the love that we have for each other, the love that binds us together always, casts out these doubts and makes me believe again.

"At our wedding, an excerpt from the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians was read, and I wish to read this to you in a more full text." She pulled out a piece of paper and cleared her throat.

"'If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge, if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give my body so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.

'Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, love is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

'Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For our knowledge is imperfect, and our prophecy is imperfect, but when the perfect comes, the imperfect will pass away.

'So faith, hope and love remain; but the greatest of these is love.'"

She looked at the crowd. "'Our knowledge is imperfect,'" she repeated, smiling slightly. "I know most of us, as scientists, would rather not hear that. But it's true. My love for Greg defies knowledge, logic and science. The perfection of our love leads me to question the most basic scientific principles." She paused again, then repeated, "'Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.' That is my love for Greg, a love that will never fail. Though his body may have given up, and though his heart, that heart that was so big and full of love, may have stopped beating, our love goes on, beyond death, beyond whatever else may try and separate us. After all, as R.W. Raymond once said, 'Life is eternal, and love is immortal, and death is only a horizon, and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.'"

A few hours later, Sara slipped out of her house, dodging past more people who wished to give her their condolences for Greg's death. It was like a freaking party at her house, everyone chilling out and eating food. "Who knew a funeral was such a festive time?" she mused aloud as she escaped to the relative freedom of the backyard.

She stood outside, shivering slightly as the chill of dusk settled in around her. The setting sun cast a purple hue on the sky, somehow making the stars stand out even more. Sara wrapped her arms around herself and tilted her face back, closing her eyes. She heard someone come up behind her, and hence wasn't surprised when she heard Nick ask, "Sara?"

"Mm?" she replied, turning to face him and opening her eyes.

"Are you ok?" he asked quietly, watching her closely. "I saw you come out here and…I dunno, I thought you might want some company."

She shrugged in assent and turned back to look up at the stars. Nick stood with her in silence for a few minutes before asking quietly, "Are you mad?" At her confused look, he elaborated, "With Greg. Are you mad that he left you?" He didn't wait for her to respond before he said in almost a whisper, "I am."

Sara reached out and squeezed his arm gently. "Nicky, it's not Greg's fault…" she whispered. "He didn't want to die. He didn't choose this." Nick didn't say anything, merely shrugging. She sighed and let go of his arm. "Think about it, Nick," she said, eyes looking back at the sky. "Think of how…how empty your life would be if you had never met Greg."

"Yeah, I guess…" said Nick slowly. "I just miss him, you know?"

"I know…" said Sara wistfully. "Believe me, I know. I miss him, too. But I would've spent my whole life searching for what I had with Greg if I had never met him. I would've rather spent one second, one moment with him than never knowing him at all."

Nick nodded, though his face was still troubled. "I think I'm gonna go back in," he said finally. "Don't stay out here too long. You don't want to catch cold."

"Thanks, Mom," said Sara wryly, but she smiled after him before turning once more to the sky. The wind had picked up, whipping past her still figure fast enough to bring tears to her eyes. She closed her eyes as the tears traced all-too-familiar paths down her cheeks. She whispered aloud words that Greg had taught her. "Odin, overvåke ublu den jeg elsker. Beholde ham til dagen jeg forbinder ideres herregård."(5)

She whispered into the wind, "I love you, Greg," closing her eyes as the wind carried her words into the desert.

A/N: All Bible verses are from my ancient Revised Standard Version Bible.

1. Matthew 27: 46

2. Proverbs 2: 3-5

3. Matthew 5: 4, 6

4. Proverbs 4: 6

5. Roughly "Odin, watch over the one that I love. Guard him until the day I join him in your hall." Roughly because I don't speak Norwegian, and this is the best freetranslation dot com can do.