A/N: Thanks to everyone who replied. Let me know what you think :)

6 Years Earlier

"Sara? Are you in there darlin'?

Nick pounded on the door; calling out to the woman who he knew was inside. She hadn't been at work for days, which was quite unlike the Sara everyone knew and loved. He was concerned, to say the least. So here he was now, knocking on Sara's door after shift had finished.

A shift she hadn't worked.

Eventually she answered, pulling the door open. Her eyes were red. She had been crying. Nick's concern grew. It must have been something terrible to make the strong-willed Sara cry. She stepped back, indicating that he could come inside. He did so, and she closed it again.

Silence filled the apartment, before she gestured to her small kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Her voice was husky and quivering slightly, and Nick shook his head, moving closer to her.

"You want to tell me what's up?" he asked her gently. She swallowed, and battles raged inside her head, a battle between yes and no. Sara was his best friend. Nick hoped she would be able to tell him when she was upset, especially when it made her miss work.

She didn't reply, just stood there blankly, and Nick gave up. Reaching over to her, he brushed his hand along her cheek. She pulled back, looking confused.

"I'm just looking out for you," he told her softly. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

When she didn't say anything, he added. "I'll just get going."

He'd made it as far as the door, when she spoke again.

"He left me…"

The pain in her words broke his heart, and he turned to face her again, horrified to see tears leak out of her eye.

"I told him I loved him, and he left me."

He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, laying her head against his chest as she sobbed.

Someone had broken her heart.

She had loved someone, and they had thrown it back in her face.

He held her tighter. "Who did?"

"Grissom."

The word was like a punch in the face. Now everything made sense. The subtle glances, the 'hidden' touches, the fact that they hadn't disagreed for what seemed like an eternity. Grissom had finally pulled his head out of the microscope.

And now he had cruelly replaced it again.

Leaving a broken woman behind.

Nick eventually pulled Sara down onto her couch, holding her until she calmed down. He stroked her hair, placed small, soothing kisses on her forehead, and just held her.

She didn't deserve this.

She deserved so much more.

She deserved someone who would love her like she deserved to be loved.

And that's what made him kiss her.

It hadn't been his choice entirely. She had looked up at him, eyes still filled to the brim with unshed tears, and he hadn't been able to stop himself from pressing his lips against hers. He told himself it was wrong. He was taking advantage of a vulnerable woman. But when she snaked her arms around his neck, and probed her tongue into his mouth, it was clear that she wanted this as much as he did.

She needed this.

She needed someone to love her.

And when they fell onto her bed, lips still connected, arms' pulling at each other's clothes, it was clear that Nick was that someone.

The house was silent.

So silent.

There was no Rugrats on the television, no giggling from the hallway of the Stokes' Residence, no squeals of delight coming from the backyard as Nick pushed his daughter on the new swing set.

Only silence.

Nick hated the silence.

Grissom had sent them from the crime scene. Sent them back home, the last place Nick wanted to be with his daughter's killer on the loose. But he couldn't be hands-on anymore. He needed to be at home.

With Sara.

She hadn't come out of Emily's room. Nick had followed her at first, but upon seeing the room, he had fled it. Fled to the living room, sitting on the plush couch. He couldn't look at Emily's room.

It hurt too much.

Sara hadn't spoken on the way home. She was silent, her voice blank. He wanted to comfort her, to wrap his arms around her body, and tell her everything would be okay. Like he had always done.

But nothing was okay anymore.

He sat in the darkened living room, and only light coming from the outside street lamps. His head was in his hands.

Finally, he couldn't stand the silence anymore, and he made his way down the hall to Emily's room. He pushed the door open.

Sara was curled up on Emily's bed, clutching her daughter's favorite stuffed toy, the one Greg had given her when she was born.

And Sara was crying.

She was crying softly, the sounds muffled by the soft fur of the stuffed animal. Nick felt his heart wrench painfully at the sound. He hated to see Sara cry. He hated to see Emily cry.

Did she cry when she was taken?

Nick walked into the room, and curled up besides Sara on the bed, pulling her against him. She began to sob louder, and Nick began to shake, trying with all his might to keep the tears from coming.

But as his wife let out long, hollowed sobs, it rocked Nick to the core, and he couldn't fight it anymore. For so long they had hoped Emily would turn up alive. For so long they had believed this wasn't the serial at work. That it was random.

And that she would turn up alive.

A single tear dropped down his cheek and landed in Sara's hair. He quickly kissed it away, but more fell, and he let out a hollow sob, causing Sara to break into more hysterical tears.

And as he listened to them sobbing in their daughter's empty room, he came to the conclusion:

Silence wasn't too bad after all.

TBC...