Here's the chapter many of you have been asking for- Sara finally goes to visit Greg.

We're starting to get to the end of this story, only two or so more chapters left… so, thanks again to everyone who continues to review and comment, I really do appreciate it.

This chapter features lyrics, in italics,from "What Sarah Said" by Death Cab for Cutie. I heard this song and immediately fell in love with it and decided to work it into this chapter. Personally, I think it fits pretty well… as the title might hint.
Enjoy!

Chapter Eight

And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time
As each descending peak of the LCD took you a little farther away from me

It struck Sara as ironic that the first place most people know in life is often the last place they know- sterile white walls, cold tiled floors and the unmistakable smell.

She had seen great sadness during her years as a CSI, but walking though the hospital hallways was something she could never get used to. She hated the despair on the faces of family members and friends as they gathered in waiting rooms and hallways, waiting for either death or a miracle. She knew that there were happy endings, but somehow, they seemed to get lost in the beeping of machinery and murmur of apologies for loses.

Sara had never liked hospitals. She had spent far too much of her childhood in waiting rooms, and the years of working with victims and families had certainly not increased her fondness of the place. Desert Palms was certainly the last place she wanted to be visiting Greg, but she did not have much of a choice at that moment.

Slowly, she walked down the white hallway in the direction a nurse had pointed her, glancing at the room numbers as she went, trying to ignore the people within. After what seemed like an endless walk, she neared his open doorway.

Focused completely on Greg, she wasn't watching where she was going and almost tripped over a young girl who was standing near the doorway.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry, I didn't see you down there." Sara knelt down to the girl's level.

"I'm fine." The young had curly brown hair and was carrying a small teddy bear. Sara guessed she was no older than six. "I'm not 'posed to be down here."

"Where are you supposed to be?"

"Upstairs. My mommy's having a baby." The girl grinned.

"That's wonderful. Are you going to have a little sister or brother?"

"Brother. Daddy wants to name him Greg'ry."

Sara smiled sadly, feeling tears start to form in her eyes. "That's a good name."

"Why are you here?" The girl asked, her eyes shining with innocence.

"I'm visiting my friend." She nodded towards Greg's room.

The girl turned and gazed in the doorway. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"I don't know- I hope so."

"I hope so, too." She smiled cheerfully.

"Thank you." Sara gave a small laugh. "You better get back upstairs, your parents will start to worry."

"Bye." The girl waved and skipped off down the hall, toward the elevator.

"Goodbye." Sara sighed to herself. Standing, she watched the little girl disappear from sight before turning back toward Greg's room.

'Maybe it's fitting…' She thought to herself. 'One story ends while another begins- one Gregory slips from this world while another enters it…'

Wiping away a tear, Sara shook her head of those thoughts as she entered Greg's room.

"You're not going to die, right, Greggo?" She asked, knowing no answer would come.

Standing uncertainly by the door, she wasn't sure what to do- various machines beeped and blinked readouts on their screens around Greg, who lay motionless in the bed. After a moment of watching him, she shut the door behind her and moved a chair to the side of his bed.

It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our minds
But I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose than to have never lain beside at all

Taking his hand in hers, she gave a smile.

"Hey, Greg. Sorry I haven't come to see you sooner, I just needed some time. This is hard… I hate seeing you like this." She intertwined her fingers in his, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin. "We caught the guy that did this to you- he confessed and everything. I know it doesn't change what happened, but at least there's closure, right?"

She watched his face, feeling an overwhelming sadness grow within her. "I miss you, Greg. I need you to wake up. I miss having you near me, the way you laugh at your own stupid jokes… I'm even missing the way you would play your horrible rock music as loudly as you could in the car." She laughed softly at the memory of it. "This last day has been so hard… and so quiet. I want to hear your voice again."

Sara closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic noises of the machines around them, holding his hand tightly. "You know how they say it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved? Well, I believe that. You've been the best thing to happen to me in a long time, and I don't have any regrets in loving you. These last few months, I've been so happy… I love you, Greg. I hope you know that."

Curling up in the chair, she watched him from under heavy eyelids. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep- like she had done so many times before- at his side.

Grissom was tired- there was no way to deny it. It had been a long time since he had worked a thirty-six hour shift, especially one as emotionally draining as this one had been. Despite his exhaustion, he was walking through the hallway of Desert Palms Hospital, a destination certain in his mind.

He had tried to sleep, he really had, but rest would not come. He was worried for Greg, and Sara, and could find no peace in the silence of his home. Instead of staring at his ceiling in a sleepless daze, he had come to the hospital. Why he felt a need to come, he wasn't sure, but he had come nonetheless.

Grissom found himself sighing, something that seemed to be common lately, as he neared Greg's door. Somehow, a small thought of optimism played out a scene in which he would enter to find Greg awake and the doctor apologizing profusely for not calling. However, the thought was short-lived as he glanced through the small window in the door.

Greg's eyes were closed, and his face was peaceful- as if he were merely taking short nap. Next to the bed, Grissom was not surprised to see Sara curled up in a chair. It seemed fitting to him that she be at his side- come what may.

He almost turned around, went back home, but he didn't. Instead, he slipped silently into the room- never taking his eyes off of Sara.

The brunette was sleeping soundly, legs curled under her, and her head resting on her arm. In sleep she didn't seem so sad and broken, in fact, she reminded Grissom of the, happier, young woman he had once found sleeping in the break room.

Standing on the opposite side of Greg's bed from Sara, he watched them for a many minutes. Two days earlier, he couldn't have comprehended the depth of the love that ran between his CSI, but it seemed painfully clear now.

The arm Sara wasn't using as a pillow was stretched out to hold Greg's hand, fingers intertwined with his. Grissom supposed that the little bit of contact that offered was still better than none at all- keeping them connected as death threatened to pull them apart.

Touching Greg's hand gently, Grissom spoke quietly. "Wake up soon, Greg. You're still needed here."

Slowly, he turned and moved back toward the door. Stopping, he looked back toward the sleeping brunette and he thought about the their conversation in his office.

'Sara said that she didn't know if she could bear to watch him die… and yet, here she is.' He mused to himself. 'She'll be at his side until he takes his last breath, whether it be now or sixty years from now. This…' He smiled softly. 'This is love.'


But I'm thinking of what Sarah said that "Love is watching someone die"

To be continued…