A/N: Okay, so this is an idea that I've had for the longest time. And it was possibly one of the most tear jerking stories I've ever written. And just warning you, this DOES involve character death! But please give it a chance! Please! I beg of you! I went through a box of Kleenexes just to write this! Okay, so maybe not... It's a metaphorical box of Kleenexes, but I swear The least someone could do is read and review! Please! And I know that I emphasize a certain meaning through out this entire story, but hey! I'm a GSR fan to heart! DEFINITELY NOT a GCR fan, okay? That's just the way it is, is going to be, and always will be. So... Face facts and accept it! Haha, just playing. But hey! If you wanna fight about it, review and I'll get back to you!

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of its characters... Walks away grumbling

Wherever You Go

I couldn't stand it. I simply couldn't stand it.

I had never felt so helpless before this point. He was in agonizing pain, and there wasn't a thing I could do to prevent it. He was dying, right in front of my very eyes.

He was merely fifteen feet out of my reach, being dangled in front of my eyes tauntingly. He was there, just barely out of my reach, and yet I wouldn't able to touch him no matter what I did. All attempts were futile.

The look of horror couldn't be wiped from my face as I watched my best friend taking a beating through the plastic wall. It was the only barrier between us, but yet, it was the strongest barrier we've come across yet. And this wall was placed here so conveniently so that when I ran around the corner, trying to reach him in the room, I'd smack into it dead-on.

"Griss!" It was the first word I'd managed to choke up in what seemed like an eternity.

I could already see the light begin to fade from his eyes. Those strong, baby blue eyes that I had admired since forever. The same eyes that had always been a source of strength for me, through all the years we'd known each other. But now, they seemed to be stormed over with a murky navy color to them. A murky color that dragged you down like quicksand, into a place that not even the bravest of people dared to venture. Into a dark, cold place where there was no returning.

The light in his eyes flickered, not ready to die just yet, but knowing that it was a long shot to make it through this.

But I would never forgive myself if I saw those baby blues close forever.

"Grissom!" My lungs protested at my desperate yell.

Another man, brandishing a metal pipe, took a baseball swing at Grissom's stomach as five other men held him in place. Grissom, being simply who he was, held back another pained cry and hunched over, too weak to even fight back now. He just took beating after beating from this group of inhumane people. I cringed as I witnessed him being shoved from person to person, getting punched, kicked, and swung at with pipes and other metal objects. I willed him with my mind to fight back, like he had in the beginning. I could still see the bruises and blood dripping down most of their faces. But a five-on-one fight was a tough fight to win, no matter who you are or how strong you are. Eventually, you're going to lose. But I just didn't want him to.

I wasn't afraid to say that I was at a loss of what to do. It was just the two of us, and the group of men that were beating him to his death at a crime scene no one but Grissom and myself knew about. It was a stupid move for us to just come out here without informing Brass at the very least, but we knew the scene had time-sensitive evidence. We had no time to waste. But now, I began to wonder what the worse would've been if we'd actually informed Brass and asked him to clear the scene. It couldn't have been anything worse than this.

I was desperate, worried, angry, regretful, but most of all, I was afraid. I was afraid because Grissom had been a part of me and had always been there for me, both when I needed him and even when I didn't need him. And if I were to ever lose him, I'd be losing a large part of me as well.

He had always been a part of me. Right from the beginning.

Flashback

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and spring had everyone acting crazy. Everything was flamboyant and lively, with the exception of a certain six-year-old little boy sitting on a bench near the pond at the far end of the park I was at.

With intrigue and wonder drawing me toward this boy, I noticed him at once as the new boy at my preschool, Gil Grissom. He was relatively tall for his age and had the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Unfortunately, he had them stuck in a book he was reading as I approached him, so I didn't have the privilege of seeing them. He appeared to be a nice enough person, just not particularly social. I was just the person to change that.

"Hey! I'm Catherine... What's your name?" I asked, even though I already knew his name. It was an ice breaker.

Gil, or Grissom as he said he preferred to be called, looked up from his book and peered at me through his glasses, giving me a wary look. Once he seemed to confirm that I was no threat, he replied.

"Gil." He replied shortly.

I retained my eye roll at his abruptness, now knowing he would be the type to answer only what he had to answer, and nothing more. He would be a tough nut to crack, but I was determined to get him to open up.

End of Flashback

Whether I would ever admit it or not, that was the precise moment in time where our loyal friendship was set in motion. And ever since then, we had been connected on a higher level than ever imagined. Whether he would ever admit it or not.

The years had passed by joyfully, or at least relatively, and the fact remained that he and I never went anywhere without each other. He was there for me and I tried to be there for him, even though he didn't call out for my help too often. But the times he reached out to help me, those were times I would never forget.

Ever.

Flashback

Growing up afraid of thunder and lightening storms was never a fun part of any kid's childhood. Especially mine. I was down to the bone, petrified of lightening and loud thunder. Being only about six-years-old, all that was unknown and couldn't be seen was a plausible threat in my mind.

This was possibly one of the worst thunder and lightening storm I'd encountered in my short life, but what made it worse was that I was by myself. My Mother was out at work, and my step-Father was nowhere to be found - most likely out with a local prostitute on the streets.

So, per usual, I sat curled up in the corner of my bedroom, which was on the first floor, shaking like a leaf. He knew where I was. He knew that I was scared and needed someone to tell me everything was all right. We had this sort of telepathic connection to tell us when something was wrong with each other. I heard his heavy footsteps outside the window I was sitting underneath, and the next thing I know, he's sliding the window open.

Another bolt of lightening crashed to the ground, promptly followed by the deafening thunder outside just before he closed the glass window, crouching down beside my cowering figure in his wet and muddy attire. He knew how to get into my house and knew his way around my house, just like I did his.

Each great flash of lightning and deafening clap of thunder urged my heart into a faster beat. My precious and sacred blanket had almost ripped in two from my clumsy hands twisting them into a knotted mess.

Now, to any other person, I don't think that their hero - their savior - would be a seven-year-old kid wearing footed pajamas... but mine sure was.

I looked over at him and saw those eyes. The calming eyes that always provided me with a much needed strength. He was never one to talk with verbal words; his eyes spoke everything there was to say. And this time, his eyes were saying, "It's okay Cath. I'm here and nothing's gonna hurt you, I promise."

They kept whispering, "Cath, stop shaking. You're going to be all right."

They told me confidently, "Hey, you hear that? There was a six second gap between the lightning and thunder that time. Remember last time there was only a three second gap? The storm's going away."

And when I'd calmed down enough to stop trembling and stand without collapsing, he had coaxed me from my corner. Then he took me by my hand and guided me toward my bed. Even though I was still nervous and now biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood, it's coppery taste filling my mouth with only a small drop, I followed my guide.

He had tucked me in as best he could in an endearing way that showed he truly cared about me, almost in a brotherly fashion. All the while, he never let go of my hand, his eyes still convincing me that everything would be all right. Those believable eyes that caused a calm to sweep over my trembling body. And he sat down beside me on the bed after I was tucked and settled in, resting his body up against my backboard of the bed. I felt his protective gaze settle on me and that helped ease the tremor out of my body as another bolt of lightening hit the ground.

I remember looking into his eyes and seeing, "I'm never going to let anything in this world hurt you or scare you." And I also remember him holding my hand until I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

End of Flashback

Over the years, especially as we became adults, he hadn't worn his heart on his sleeve as often, but I knew it was still there. But as kids, he always his heart on his sleeve for me. Our friendship was unmistakably deep, even to this day, to this very painful second.

He taught me the best lesson in life ever, without even knowing it. Friendship is the best love out there, and to love means never having to say you're sorry.

But now, I was watching him writhe around, finally succumbing to yelling in pain as these horrid men took their turns holding him down, the concrete of the house's floor rubbing his jaw raw, and stomping on him and kicking him. His shoes were scraping at the ground in a futile attempt to push himself upwards and away from the men. His hand were tearing against the concrete to the point where they bled, trying desperately to reach the gun that I could see was ten feet out of his reach.

I wiped my face roughly with my hands, running my fingers through my hair as I tried to problem solve this situation. I didn't have my cellphone, I didn't have my gun, I didn't have anything useful that could help Gil out in his time of need. Everything that was useful was still in my car back at the lab. There wasn't a single payphone around here for miles, and even if there was, the time it would've took me to call Brass or the police, Gil would've already been... I couldn't even bring myself to say it. I began to pace back and forth, my eyes never leaving his as he looked at me with a sense of, "I'm sorry."

Why are you feeling sorry? I should be feeling sorry for not being able to help you! I told him through my own eyes.

I found it a bit ironic how this was all working out. Normally, with Gil around, I could relax because I knew he'd never let anything happen to me if it was within his power to prevent it. And even if it wasn't within his power, he'd try regardless. And he knew I'd do the same... Or at least, I hoped he knew that I would. No, he must've known. There's no way he could not know.

But it was warped now. I couldn't help him... He was twenty feet in front of me, plain as day... And the one time he really needed me, I couldn't help him. The one time I could repay him for all he's ever done for me, and I couldn't do it. I wanted to, but I just couldn't. That fact alone left me in a frenzy, my mind going haywire.

Every time a man slammed that metal pipe down on his arm, I swear up and down, green and blue, that I can feel a ripping pain course through my own arm. Every time one of those human monstrosities kicked him in his stomach or in his ribs, I wanted to hunch over from a sharp pain that found its way to my own ribs as I heard him cry out in pain. Like I said, we're connected.

I bit my lip until it turned white and tears began to congregate at my eyes as I watch him be tortured. It was infuriatingly agonizing to watch helplessly as Grissom... My hero, my big guy, my older brother, my... everything, be thrown about carelessly.

Before I knew what I was doing, my tightly clenched fists were banging against the sturdy transparent barrier. Not as effective as I wished it to be, but at the point, I was willing to do anything for him.

I yelled and yelled and yelled. I screamed about nothing at all, I swore and called out his name as the tears streaked down my face... Anything. Anything at all to distract the assailants, or to bring him back to his senses and somehow magically give him the strength he needed to get out of there and come back to me. Come back to his team. Come back to the people that cared about him the most.

Why? Why did I yell?

I yelled because this wasn't supposed to be happening, this wasn't how it should've been; I yelled because I was the idiot that got into a fight with him at the scene; I yelled because I was stupid for letting him go storming away from me in anger without apologizing to him; I yelled because he was an idiot for being careless; I yelled because of how useless I was, and I yelled because one of the people that I cared the most about in the world neede my help, and I couldn't give it.

I banged my fists on the barrier harder with every passing moment, every passing thought.

Dammit, This isn't fair! It isn't fair that Grissom's going to die without me ever saying to him, at least once... "Thank you, Gil, for all you've done." I thought bitterly.

Of all the ways I could've thanked him, it would never have to be formal. And thanking him for everything would take far too long, because there was so much that he's done for me over a course of a lifetime. All it would've had to have been would be a simple, "Thanks Gil." It would be a thank you for all the nights he risked getting in trouble with his Mother for coming over to my lonely house to protect me from the storms. A thank you for looking after my feverously sick self when my Mother was far too busy working to tend to me. A thank you for all the times he stepped in and protected me from the overly hormonal guys in high school, occasionally getting in fights with them just to ensure my safety. A thank you for everything he'd ever done for me, ever.

I never told him. Never in all our years of being best friends, had I ever once told him, "Thank you." I'd never told him that I loved him as a best friend and wouldn't hesitate to do the exact same thing for him if he ever needed my help.

Never, not even once.

But he knows that I love him, he knows that I'd always meant to say, "Thanks." He definitely knows... right? Doesn't he? I asked myself as my eyes followed him as he was thrown up against the concrete wall and slid down to the floor with a sickening thud. I cringed.

Oh God... What if he doesn't know? What if he thinks that I always forget about him? What if he never knew how much I cared for him just because I hadn't taken the time to say a few measly words? The thought invaded my mind vigorously.

No! No, no, no, no, a million times no! I said over and over, contradicting my previous thoughts.

"GRISSOM! Griss, don't d... Don't di... Don't..." My voice began to crack with hysteria as I slid to my knees.

I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud, because if I did, I feared it might come true. That just couldn't happen. But... He didn't know... I didn't know if it was just me coming to a peak in my adrenaline rush, but I was almost totally convinced at this point that he never knew.

The adrenaline surging through my veins made me spring back to my feet. Banging repeatedly on the barricade, I ignored the pain that shot through my arms. My knuckles were now open and bleeding freely, the blood spattering across the durable plastic with each useless bang on the blockade.

Furious now, with my pathetic self, with everything, I backed up and run toward the barrier, and I threw myself against the invisible wall. I felt and heard my shoulder crack, but I simply didn't care anymore. All I cared about, all that mattered to me was the almost motionless figure that was less than fifteen feet in front of me. I backed up again and sprinted at the barrier. Again and again and again.

I'm not strong enough. I'm too helpless and puny. I can't help him... I, I just can't... I thought pitifully as I prepared to charge at the barrier once more, the thought fueling my anger even more.

But this time as my shoulder made contact with the impossible plastic barrier, I slowly gave up. I gave up hope, I gave up the belief that I could reach him in time. Slowly, but surely, I gave up on everything.

Slumped on the ground, I put my hand up against the barrier as, through my bleary eyes, I watch the largest person out of the group stare at me. I swear on whatever is holy and true in this world that he gave me a quick grin. It was a large, toothy grin, full of menace and deadly intent.

I watch him turn away from the sight of me and go to the semiconscious, bleeding lump of flesh that was my best friend, and pulled out a gun in the process, pointing the barrel near his heart. The rest of the group begin to back off and looked on like this was part of some sick ceremony.

I slipped to my knees once more as he looked at me again and smirked, almost as if he knew exactly what he was about to take away from me. My best friend, my life, my older brother, my blue-eyed wonder, my all.

He was going to take it away... All of it, every last bit of it.

Before the man could begin to squeeze the trigger any tighter, Gil forced his head to the side so he could look at me. He stared at me blankly, trying his hardest to get his ocean-blue eyes to focus. His lips twist themselves into a small smile as his eyes - oh damn, his eyes - focused on me slowly.

And, though it was small and presenting blood, it was a genuine smile. Not one of those halfhearted smiles he used to humor me with when I used to ask him if he was all right. Not one of those cheap grins that he'd flash every once in a while that was hardly worth two cents. This was the real thing.

This was the smile that beamed like the golden sun that sets in Vegas every evening, something we both knew he was never going to see again now. The tears started to flow a little more heavily at my newfound realization. Now, I was crying because I saw a new emotion in his eyes that I never thought I would see there... Defeat.

His eyes were now telling me, "You've been one of the greatest friends I could ever ask for, Cath. Thank you for just being there for me, even though I was a stubborn one... And just don't forget to smile like I never did."

And then the only sound that was heard was the gunshot that rang through the empty house. I flinched at the sound of the shot, which resurrected my old childhood fear of storms. I witnessed as Grissom's eyes closed, his body twitching slightly... And his stillness.

And just when I thought my horrors were over with, the plastic barrier finally raised up as the group of men began to turn on me after the man tossed the gun beside Gil's lifeless body. Now, I was left defenseless and my hero wasn't going to be there to save me this time.

But at the time, that fact didn't register in my mind. I was empty. My eyes were still fixed on him for a solitary moment. My mind... blank. My emotions... absent. It was only until the guys were less than five feet in front of me that I took a full realization of my predicament, but I still didn't care. They'd taken my best friend away from me, had prevented me from helping him and then left me to watch him die.

The adrenaline pulsed through my body once more, and this time as I stared up at the men, a fire flaring up in my eyes fueled by all the hate, the anger, and the anguish I was feeling inside. It was a new emotion that I had never felt, but it made me feel empowered, invincible.

Before I could properly think, I lunged up from the ground at the closest guy there, the one that'd pulled the trigger. I did everything in my power to inflict as much pain on him as he had on Gil. I kicked, I scratched, I punched, I smacked, and I even bit. That was my sole intention right now, even if it was my last one. I wanted to put them through so much pain to make them regret what they did to Gil, what they did to me.

I never stopped fighting, even as the man snatched me by my throat, constricting my airway so I was gasping for breath. The man pulled me into the blood covered room that they'd beaten Gil in, the other men crowding around us as he slapped me dead across the face and threw me to the ground like a rag doll... And still, just like Gil had when the fight first started, I fought back with all I had.

Just as another guy prepared to pick me up, determined to put me through the same Hell Grissom went through, several shots rang through the air. And suddenly, every single one of the men that encased me, fell dead around me, the blood squirting out of their foreheads and a shocked expression on their faces as they fell. They were dead before they even hit the ground.

Pushing aside my own shock, I sat up and looked around wildly, my eyes scouting out Grissom at once. I caught him just as he let his arm drop back down to his side weakly, his free hand covering the rapidly bleeding bullet wound and his eyes just barely open. His breathing was labored and it was the only thing I could hear.

I scrambled across the floor and over the dead bodies to get to Grissom, crawling on my hands and knees frantically. I kneeled next to him and I immediately grabbed him in a hug before he could protest. He took in a sharp breath that made him writhe in pain at the contact, but nonetheless, he made an attempt to hug me back. I sobbed as if I'd never cried once in my life. I knew he wasn't pleased with being pitied, but I couldn't help it. He was my best friend.

With the rest of his strength, he directed me to look at him with his heavy hands on my shoulders. Once again, his eyes told me everything I ever needed to know about what he was trying to say. They tried to hold a conversation with me, but we knew his time was nearly up.

"Griss... I... You... God, please don't leave me!" Was all I managed out in a short cry.

His eyes spoke back, "You know I would never leave you in danger like that. I care about you too much as a best friend to let anything bad happen to you, whether or not it is within my power to do so or not."

I had never known silence could be so deafening to my ears before now. Time seemed to press on for hours as we just sat there with each other. I knew he was in pain. It was as if I could feel his pain transferring from his body to mine through his hands, like an electrical current. So many things I wanted to tell him, that I wanted to say for everyone else that wasn't here on his last breath, but the words just wouldn't form on my mouth. This was it. This was the end of the road for us. There was no second chance to tell him these things. Once he was gone, he was gone, and he'd leave without knowing everything.

My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach.

Slowly and with much pain no doubt, Gil reached into his pocket and pulled something that was fisted in his hand. I looked at him with curiosity, but I didn't rush him as I knew from his labored breathing that this was paining him to even breath now. Soon enough, he opened up to reveal what seemed like a relic now.

It was a golden, heart-shaped locket dangling from a dainty gold chain. The locket had lost some of its luster due to time, but it still looked in shape. I already knew what the locket contained inside, but I had to see it once more for myself.

I held the locket in my hand as I fumbled with it to try and open it. It took a little longer than needed with my vision impaired eyes that were filled with tears, but I got it open. Staring back up at me, smiling back with their eyes were two little kids, a seven-year-old Catherine Willows, and an eight-year-old Gil Grissom. Both of us were sporting the goofiest of faces and an ice cream cone in our left hands, eyes wide and our tongues sticking out at the camera mockingly. Given the date this picture was taken, the photo was, of course, black and white, but the images from that day couldn't have erased from my mind even if I had amnesia. But what I remembered more over was how Gil had gotten the locket. That memory, it was one that would be remembered even after death, and for all of the eternity.

Flashback

The both of us sat in the safety of our personal hideout, a cave that was found near the local lake and concealed by a huge oak tree. It was underground, yet it didn't collapse as it had sturdy rocks to make the walls. It was a place we often ran to when we didn't want to be at home, or where we used to play as little children. I recalled drawing on the walls with other bits of small rocks, leaving cavemen like drawings behind. The cave had a home-like atmosphere encasing it, leaving a feeling of love and caring to linger in the air even after all these years.

Gil was now eighteen and I was still seventeen. We'd been best friends through-and-through and nothing had split us apart, until this.

Gil was being admitted into UCLA to pursue his dreams of going into forensics. He'd dropped by my house today to tell me the good news. The over-zealous look on his face told me immediately that something was up as soon as he barged into my house unannounced, like he normally did when something was urgent. He had a key to my house and I had a key to his. And as if his smile was contagious, I had smiled quickly on sight of him just before he sat me down for the big news.

But surprisingly, as happy as I was for him on the inside, I also couldn't push aside another feeling that was far from happiness. Maybe it was disappointment, maybe it was agitation. And why would I be feeling anything other than happiness for my lifelong best friend? Because with the concept of him finally being able to live his dreams and pursue them, came the realization that he'd be leaving me to go to college. As selfish as my mind was, I didn't want him to leave me. Even though it wasn't forever and he'd still come back on vacations, the realization was still there and I panicked.

So, instead of showing the happiness that I felt truly for him, I showed my nervousness instead. The selfishness inside of me. And I got up and ran out the door, running toward the only salvation I knew of. The hideout.

So, here we were now. Gil had known exactly where I would be if I was distressed, and he followed me in. And upon entering, neither of us said a single word to each other as of yet.

"You know I won't be gone for long, Cath." He finally spoke up, figuring out precisely why I was acting this way.

"I know, I know... But still. We've never left each other's side in our eleven years of this wacky friendship. Never once. Wherever you went, I went. Wherever I went, you went. It's always been that way." I dared to stare over at him.

Once again, it was his captivating eyes. "Yes, but you didn't think it was going to stay that way forever, did you?"

"No..." I paused for a moment to think. "Okay, well maybe a little. We're best friends! Why wouldn't we stay together forever?"

"Well, life does have its odd ways sometimes." He replied to the question when he knew full well that I didn't truly want an answer.

"So, when are you leaving?" I asked, determined to let my happiness show for him.

"Well... I'm going out there sometime today. Mother got me an air ticket as soon as she read the letter. My plane leaves around 11:20 p.m." Gil admitted sheepishly.

My heart sank even further down, realizing that in a half a day, my best friend would be on a plane out to California. I couldn't even manage words at this point.

"But I promise that I'll be back to visit you and Mother and your Mom. It'll be no time at all until I'm back. You'll see." He vowed to me as he stared upwards now, looking at all the different carvings on the wall.

"So, I bet you're pretty happy about this, huh?" I thanked a higher power that my chirper voice came into play.

The sudden mood swing seemed to surprise Gil for a second as he looked back at me. Then a soft smile spread across his lips and he continued to stare back up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, I'm happy. Nervous, but happy." He said simply.

"Why are you nervous? You, of all people, should not be nervous. I'm sure you could outwit any of those professors over at that college! You're one of the brainiest people I know!" I told him encouragingly. "You've come this far, academically, and you'll keep going onto better places. This has been your life's dream, ever since you practically blew up your Mom's house with your Chemistry Set when you were six!"

We shared a quick laugh at the thought before it just as quickly died down. It was a comfortable silence, but I could still sense Gil was nervous. I wanted to give anything I could to make him calm, but after being his best friend for eleven years, I still didn't know how to do that. So I offered him the one thing that I prized the most.

Unclasping the necklace from around my neck, my prized possession since I was seven, I grabbed Gil's wrist and forced him to open his hand. I dropped the locket and chain into his hand, and made a fist with his hand to encase it. He reopened his hand and peered at the locket with wonder. He opened it up and looked at the picture and then flipped it over and looked at the back, his thumb gliding over it slowly.

"Now, that's my lucky charm there Gilbert L. Grissom! And don't you dare lose it or mutilate it in anyway! You may not believe in luck, but that's helped me a lot over the years, and now... I hope that it will help you. But be sure to give it back to me when you get back from college." I told him, being mockingly stern.

Another smile, wider this time, slid across his face as he looked away from the locket and at me. He placed the chain around his neck, clasping it at the back and then settled back down.

"Don't worry... I will." He said simply.

"Do you promise?" I asked with a meek voice now.

"Promise." He said shortly and confidently.

"That's good..." I nodded slowly, looking up at the ceiling and then back at him, knowing what I wanted to say to him now. "Just remember this, Gil... Wherever you go, I'm always with you."

End of Flashback

My words rang clear in my ears and I flipped over the locket, rubbing my own thumb across the words which seemed to be the most worn-out part of the entire locket. I knew now that Gil must've often ran his fingers over it, and that warmed my heart. On the back of the golden locket it read,

"Gil Grissom & Catherine Willows. Best friends in life and in death. Summer of '64."

I glanced back at Gil for another time. He looked as if he wanted to speak, and I knew it right from his eyes that he had recalled the memory of that day as well. But I didn't let him speak. Not yet. So, I settled down next to him, sitting and encircling his arm with mine, my head resting on his shoulders as my tears soaked his shirt.

"You know... This place reminds me of the old hideout back at home, where we used to scribble on the walls." I choked up finally. "Do you remember?"

I got a silent nod from him and some more labored breathing. I pressed my ear softly against his chest, hearing his slowing heartbeat. As a child, hearing his heartbeat had always helped me calm down whenever I was going through a nerve-racking time. Now the slower his heart became, the more nervous I became.

"Remember Cath... Wherever you go, I'm always with you." He managed to say in regular words, though it was quite silently.

I quickly looked up at him as he spoke those words. I could see that final light flickering in his eyes, preparing to die. He was holding on though, for as long as he could. I managed the strongest smile I could at the moment as I looked at him, looked at those eyes, one final time.

"Thank you Gil. For everything." I said softly.

I let our final moments pass by in silence, resting my head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat until all I heard was silence. Finally, I closed my own eyes, new tears falling out of my eyes with ease as I held my dead best friend even tighter to me. And behind my eyelids, I saw his own piercing blue eyes staring right back at me. And that final smile he had.

To make sure that he truly was gone this time, I lifted my head and opened my eyes after a moment. All I saw was his cold, dead eyes, but a faint, warm smile still graced his lips, though it didn't look creepy at all. I waited for countless minutes for him to spring back to life and scare the living daylights out of me, but it didn't happen. Taking one last glance at Gil's eyes, the eyes that would be in my dreams forever, I slowly closed my eyes and rest my head back on his chest.

I wasn't ready to let him go just yet.

I allowed all of our good memories to flood back into my mind, playing them out on my closed eyelids as if it were a movie. But the one memory that kept playing over and over again was a simple one, but it had so much power to it.

Flashback

Hiding down in the hideout, Gil and I tried to block out the rest of the world. And being eight-years-old, we found an interest in drawing. He was trying to forget his Mother and Father fighting, and I just didn't want to be around my Mother's drunk self much longer. So, we opted to escape it all and come to the one place where we knew no one could ever hurt us, our hideout.

Gil was nearly finished with his sketch of me, and I was finishing off his hair in my sketch of him. We scraped rock against rock to make the drawings, and I was finding it tougher than it looked like to do circles for his curly hair. He was having no trouble at all with drawing me however.

After about five more minutes of scraping, we sat back and admired our work of art. I was satisfied with it, but Gil was giving it that look that said he wasn't convinced it was finished. He soon crouched before the drawing again, his body blocking my view as he added something onto the drawing for three solid minutes.

As he plopped backwards, my eyes glided over the improved drawing. My wide grin splayed across my face at what he'd done.

He'd drawn an arm and a hand extending out from his below his face, and it reached for my open mouth. In the hand, Gil had drawn a fruit we both knew as "Fruta de Eternidad". It literally meant the "Fruit of Eternity" in Spanish. Gil's Mother had introduced us to this fruit, along with the story behind the fruit. It was said that whoever you share the fruit with, you'll be bound to them for an eternity, even after death. So, of course it meant a lot to me to know that Gil had drawn that.

"There... Now, wherever you go... I'll always be with you." Gil said as he looked over at me with his brilliant blue eyes.

"And now..." I started, leaning in to draw the same thing to my face quickly. "Wherever you go, I'll always be with you." I said with a childish smile and laugh to go along with it.

He gave me a nod and the smile still lingered strong on his lips as we sat back to view our masterpiece now that it was complete.

End of Flashback

My last words just before I passed out were, "And I'll always be there with you, Gil... Always..." I said with a soft sigh to Grissom's lifeless body, knowing full well that his spirit was still in this room, and would always be with me until it was my time to go.

The End

A/N2: And that's the show folks! Let me know how you liked it. The good, the bad, the ugly. Anything and everything! Even if its about your colon or your pet Poodle FruFru! I don't care! Just give me something to work with here. Let me know what you think about this story. Thanks to all that do review, and well... As for you people that read and DON'T review... Well, and P! I stick my tongue out at you! I frown upon you! Tsk, tsk! Boo! But hey, thanks for reading anyways! ;-)... Well, I'm out.

-MC New York