A/N: So this is it. I combined the last chapter and the epilogue, so this is the end of this story. I hope you will find it satisfying and I thank everyone who has stuck with me through the whole of this story. :D I'd also like to point out that if you're a House MD fan, I've got two new fics up and just itching for reviews. nudge Thanks again!

The first thing he noticed was a slow steady beep. It was a sound he connected with sickness and uncertainty. It was something he associated with his mother and with Sara, though the two had never met and he couldn't quite figure out why he would ever link them. As he listened to the beep and puzzled over its significance, he was slowly able to discern other sounds beneath it. These sounds were lower and softer and gave him the mixed impression of relief and intense sadness. After a moment, he was able to identify them as voices. He listened for a while, trying to understand what they were saying.

"He's lucky," said one voice. "If you hadn't found him when you did…"

"Is he going to be alright?" asked another voice.

"I expect, that with time, Mr. Grissom will make a full recovery," said the first voice. "He has shown remarkable recovery even in the weeks since he arrived here."

"Why isn't he awake yet?" asked the other voice bitterly. Grissom finally recognized the voice and wrenched his eyes open to find Greg and a doctor in a white coat standing at the foot of his bed.

"I am awake," he rasped. Greg jumped at the sound of Grissom's voice and turned to look at the CSI supervisor in amazement. The doctor smiled.

"Welcome back, Mr. Grissom," he said, walking over and checking Grissom's monitors and medicines.

"How long have I been out?" he asked, clearing his throat. Greg ran to the small bathroom on the other side of the room and returned with a cup of water. Grissom drank gratefully and then turned back to the doctor. "How long, Doctor?"

The doctor frowned and looked down at the clipboard he was holding. "Almost three weeks," he said, watching Grissom carefully. Grissom frowned and looked at Greg.

"And how are the others?" he asked anxiously. "How is Sara?"

Greg exchanged a look with the doctor, which didn't go unnoticed by the Grissom, and then took a deep breath. "Catherine, Warrick, and Nick are all doing fine. Warrick and Nick were sent home two weeks ago. Catherine is still here, but she's doing very well and they're going to release her soon. Brass is also doing well."

"Brass?" Grissom gasped. "But…Reichman told me he was dead…"

"He's not," Greg said, smiling slightly. "He was hit by three bullets. Two of them hit his vest and knocked the wind out of him. The third one nicked the underside of his arm. He's just fine. He's been to see you a couple of times."

Grissom smiled in relief. "And what about Sara, Greg? How is she doing? When can I see her?"

Greg looked down at his hands and then back at Grissom, no longer smiling. "Grissom…" he began, but his voice faltered and he looked back down at his hands. Grissom watched as a tear rolled down Greg's cheek and his stomach plummeted and he felt dread fill his heart.

"Greg, where is she? Where's Sara?"

Greg sniffed and wiped his cheek with his hand. "She…she didn't make it, Grissom," said the young CSI in a choked voice. "I tried to bring her back, but I couldn't do it and then the paramedics tried, but they couldn't bring her back either and…she died, Grissom. Doc Robbins said that, in the end, the combination of blood loss and the abuse that her body had taken was just too much. Her heart just stopped beating."

Grissom stared at Greg, unable to comprehend what the other man was telling him. It was like his mind had come up with the absolute worst fantasy possible and turned it into reality. He looked at the doctor, hoping that this learned man would talk some sense into Greg, but he saw only pity and resignation in the doctor's eyes.

And, suddenly, it was as if a dam had burst inside of him. Grissom felt a sob tearing at his throat and, no matter how hard he swallowed against it, he could not hold it back. Tears poured down his face and he put his head in his hands, sobbing like a child.

"Why?" he sobbed, over and over again. "Why Sara? Why?"

Grissom had no knowledge of how long he had been sobbing when he felt someone slip their arms around his shoulders. Distantly he heard someone speaking, but the words were incomprehensible to his ears. There was only one thought that penetrated the grief raging through him: Sara is gone…

EPILOGUE

It was silent in the cemetery. Even the birds seemed to have abandoned their songs in respectful silence of the group now making their way across the green grass. It had been six years since the Reichman incident. Six years of recovery and rebuilding. Six years…without Sara.

The group came to a stop before a small marble headstone and one by one laid a flower down at its base. Twelve flowers rested there when the last had laid his down and now the group seemed at a loss for what to do. The eldest of them knelt down in the grass and ran fingers along the letters engraved there. A tear slipped down his cheek as he did so, followed by another and another, and soon he was 

crying freely, heedless of the eleven others standing around him. He had been kneeling there for quite some time, crying and thinking of what could have been, when he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

"Why are you crying, Uncle Gil?" asked the little girl to whom the hand belonged. "Are you sad?"

Turning to the child, Grissom pulled her into his arms and gave her a quick hug. The little girl smiled up at him and patiently waited for a reply.

"Yes," he finally managed. "I am very sad, angel. A very dear friend of mine is gone."

The little girl frowned at this and turned to look at her father questioningly, who immediately came forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on little tyke," Warrick said, scooping her off the ground. "Let's go see if we can find some pretty flowers in that field over there."

The little girl smiled eagerly as they walked away, her mind already turned to other matters. The child's mother followed them and Grissom watched happily as Warrick and Catherine played cheerfully with their daughter, Sara Beth. He had never been so proud in his life as when they had decided to name her after Sara. And Sara Beth was a credit to her namesake. She had an insatiable curiosity and charming urge to know any and everything she could about everything. He could not have loved her more if she was his own child.

After watching the happy family for a while, he turned back to the others gathered around the grave. Greg and Wendy were standing hand in hand, very near to the marble headstone. Greg noticed Grissom looking at him and smiled slightly.

"Doing okay, Grissom?" he asked the older man.

Grissom nodded and Greg's smile widened and he turned to Wendy, who also smiled. Greg had been instrumental in Grissom's recovery, after he had woken up in the hospital. Greg had been a sure and steady presence throughout the whole ordeal. He had always been the first to arrive at the hospital in the morning and the last to leave at night and when Grissom had left the hospital, a few weeks after regaining consciousness, Greg had come to stay with Grissom until the latter was well enough to be on his own. Grissom had once asked Greg why he had done everything he had. Greg's reply brought tears to his eyes.

"I promised Sara."

And with Greg came Wendy. After finding Grissom in the desert, the two had become nearly inseparable. Wendy was at Grissom's townhouse almost as much as Greg was. But Grissom didn't mind in the least. She was able to give him a different kind of support that Greg could not. And when Greg had proposed to her and she had accepted, Grissom had been sitting right there, watching. He was the first to congratulate them and he was the best man at the wedding six months later.



Next, Grissom turned to Nick who was standing close to Mandy with his arm around her shoulders. They had only been dating for a few months, but already Grissom could see how happy they were with each other. He expected that they would be engaged soon and he delighted that they had found one another. Nick smiled at him, but didn't say anything and Mandy did the same.

Next Grissom turned to Hodges and Henry who were standing a little apart from the rest of the group. The two had become very good friends in the years since Sara died. Grissom watched them banter with one another and smiled. He was glad that they had become friends.

Lastly, he turned to Brass, who was standing with his arm around Sophia's waist. Of all the people in the world who would understand what Grissom had gone through when Sara died, it was Brass. The detective had always viewed Sara as the daughter he had always wanted Ellie to be and he had been fiercely protective of her. It was Brass that had kept an eye on Sara after she started drinking and it was Brass that stayed with her the most when she was in the hospital after she was kidnapped by Natalie Davis. He had been there even more often than Grissom had, refusing to leave Sara's side for anything less than a serial killer. Grissom found no greater comfort than that of his best friend. He knew that Brass had been just as affected by her death as Grissom had. Grissom was glad that he had found comfort in Sophia. They had been together for the better part of two years and Grissom was thrilled that his best friend had found someone who made him so happy.

Finally, he turned back to the grave, kneeling down in the grass next to her headstone again. As he traced the letters of her name once more, he felt the grief, still raw and fresh, rise up in him. It had been the longest six years of his life without her. There had never been a day go by that he hadn't thought of her for at least a moment. He had learned to live with the pain of knowing that he would never see her again, but he was still living with a huge hole in his heart where Sara used to reside.

The others had wandered away as he knelt there, giving him a moment alone with her. For the first time, in the six years that she had been gone, he spoke to her.

"Hey, butterfly, he said in a choked voice, using the nickname she had loved. "It's been a while since I was here. I'm glad to see that they're keeping the place up."

Grissom fell silent and sat in the grass, staring at the ground, lost in memories. He pulled up a handful of grass and watched as the breeze blew the grass from his hand and mixed it with the swirling leaves. He took a deep, shaky breath.

"You should see Warrick and Catherine's little girl, my love," he said with a teary smile. "Sara Beth is so much like you. She's so inquisitive and so full of life. She is such a joy to all of us. Brass spoils her in the worst way. He just can't seem to say no to her."

Grissom fell silent again, in no hurry to finish what he had planned to say. He watched the others playing with Sara Beth and smiled, glad that they were able to put the past behind them. Finally, he turned back to the marble



"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," he whispered. "I tried, my love. I really tried. I did everything in my power to keep you alive. I pressed on and on in that desert, carrying you, hoping and praying that I could find help in time, but I wasn't strong enough, Sara. I wasn't strong enough to save you."

Tears dripped down his face and he let them, unable to even lift his hands to wipe them away. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, crying at her headstone, but he gradually became aware that there was a crowd of people around him, lending him their support. None of them said a word, but he knew that they were there for him. He could practically feel the force of their love and their support. This revelation brought on a fresh wave of tears, but now they were tears of joy.

He knew that there would always be a hole in his heart where Sara had once been, but he also knew that it was time for him to move on and to start living again. For six years he had grieved, but there in the graveyard, surrounded by the people he loved, he finally felt that he could let go of his grief.

Drying his cheeks with his sleeve, he turned to Sara Beth and, scooping her into his arms, covered her tiny cheeks with kisses. Her laughter and the astonishment and laughter of the others was his saving grace. With Sara Beth nestled in his arms, he turned from the grave, filled with peace for the first time in six years. It was a beautiful day and through the silence, he heard the birds sing.

THE END.