Disclaimer: I own nothing,

A/N: I told ya I was in a writing mood lol...thank you tofredchester for reviewingso quickly. Next chapter will be up next thursday. I have work out where I am in this story I think I am over a third through (yay).. this chapter goes flashback/present... This is the second to last flashback in the whole story. the next one comes much later...actually there might be two... I dunno...I tried to make a suspence end to this chapter... I think its crap but oh well.

Thanks for reading

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Months passed, cases came and went, some tough, emotionally and some because of different variables. People were put in and released from prison. Life went on. But Nightshift was minus a leader, some who guided them, someone who protects and exposes them to the troubles and grief of the world. They were minus a friend.

Gil became so much of a recluse and so withdrawn he is existence almost became mythic. Grissom never requested any assistance on any of his cases, and when there were no cases, he would work on the folder entitled "Sidle, S. Missing Persons" even though there was little evidence to go over; the security cameras had been a bust, the electricity for the block had gone out because of the storm; no hairs; no blood. The man the neighbour had described was in fact, Sara's brother who had come to see her in Las Vegas, though he kept his reasons private. Gil had the pain of having to fly to San Francisco to tell Sara's mother, Laura, that her only daughter was missing. What he found was something completely opposite than what he had expected. He found an elderly women with cunning brown eyes and remarkably perfect symmetry of the facial bones, an old woman who couldn't remember even having a daughter because she had Alzheimer's. He found a son trying and struggling to take care of his mother who was now having to deal with the loss of a sister. When Gil had mentioned Sara to Laura, he could see the words sinking down, down in to her mind, through all the levels of pain and remembrance and what she knew she could never deny, but could only retreat from, and all the truths that she had feared as a child, an adolescent and an adult, her entire life. He tried and her brother tried, but 'Sara' was unrecognised until the last day of Gil's time in San Francisco. Laura Sidle had wept and sobbed. Gil heard that she eventually she went in to a depressed state and refused to eat.

Three months after that Ecklie had told Nightshift to 'give up' as Grissom and Greg saw, that his time was more valuable than to spend half a shift looking over the same case file. A year after that, Ecklie told Grissom to hire someone else. Ecklie's messages were always clear, and it hurt and angered her. Somewhere in his mind, the word "missing" registered, but in his heart he knew it wasn't true. It was a mistake. Sara wasn't missing, he just couldn't find her; he had lost her. But he would get her back.

"I need you,"

"I need her,"

"I have you,"

He paid the rent on her apartment, since the first month she went away, because he knew that when she came back she would want everything to be just like she had it. He had to stop for financial reasons, but it would be okay, she could live with him and he would help her get a new apartment. He boxed up all of her things and stored them in his house. The three day job took him two weeks. Every time he saw something he didn't know what to do with, or something that he knew was her favourite, he had to stop. He spent the two weeks living in Sara's apartment. Listening to her music, eating vegetarian food from the places she ordered take-out from, sleeping on her sofa, watching her view. She had diaries, he never opened them. He felt he understood more about her life by living it for a while.

Gil hardly spoke to anyone anymore, he gave the impression that he couldn't bear to look at anyone. Whenever he did to exchange information with people at work, it was in passing in the hallways or over the telephone. Once, Catherine had not seen him for just over two months, she had caught flu and then got a relapse of it. She swore bluntly and aloud when she first saw him. His skin had become unnaturally pale and looked harsh and brittle. He was tired and glum, absent, weary, dispirited, detached, melancholy, distracted. The second anniversary of Sara's disappearance passed and Gil finally took some time off. No one knew where he went, not even Brass or Catherine.

When he came back, the once strained relationships with his friends vanished and they returned to something of a closer, warmer family. Gil refused to lose anyone again. By the third anniversary, Catherine was head of her own shift and Gil was ready to leave his. He had discussed it with Catherine over alcoholic beverages and over the phone with Brass. Brass had left after Sara's missing person's case became metaphorically, shoved in to a drawer. It was warm December night and there was a glorious heat buzz and the sky was just entering its phase of navy blue and leaving the shade of perfect lavender behind when Warrick was asked to come in early to work by Grissom.

It was half dark outside. There was a shrill ringing pressing against Gil's eardrum. He felt that his dreams had become hollow and ashy like coals and they were at the mercy of a single breath. He would forget them soon.

"Hello," he said groggily.

"Hey, it's Warrick."

"Hi Warrick. Are you okay? Has something happen?"

"No, no. Nothing like that." Warrick breathed deeply. He had already half-told Catherine about what he had heard and she had told him not to tell Gil.

"Look, I am going behind Catherine's back on this, so just make sure you keep it yourself."

"Warrick…what is it?" Gil said, slightly confused as he knew Warrick didn't keep much from Catherine.

"I was listening in on one of the new officers… 'Tyler' is his name, I think…anyway I was listening to his conversation today and he said almost hit a woman while he was in his patrol car and that she dropped all her shopping bags in shock. This was in the same area you were in two months ago,"

"What's your point Warrick?"

"Well, I quote, 'how could the stupid bitch not see us. We could see her and her bright red coat.' Tyler then told me he helped her up and gathered her shopping and offered her a ride home. She refused as she said "I only live over there," Warrick continued.

"When I asked Officer Tyler what see looked like he said, 'Brunette, really thin, tall for a female.' He also said that she had a large bruise to her wrist and when he went to help her up, she yelped in pain and begged him not to touch her."

Warrick listened to Gil's heavy breathing, the air being sucked in and forced out of his nostrils.

"Griss'. You there? Something?"

Gil had only one thing to say.

"Where?"

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