A/N: Well, this is it: the last chapter. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, and ask, of course, that you please review!

Chapter 14

"Did you run away?
Did you fall apart?
Do you see yourself for what you are?
Will you be looking for it anymore?
When five becomes four
When you're all alone
With the melody
Do you close your eyes and think of me?
Will you still hear me singing anymore?
When five becomes four"

It was a long car ride back to Las Vegas, and with every mile, Greg's life seemed to get a little emptier. He didn't even want to turn to music for comfort because every song on the radio seemed to remind him of Sara, and it was like rubbing salt into an open wound. There was a hollowness to him now, something that couldn't be cured by listening to music or reading a letter that was supposed to bring him closure.

What was worse was that none of this seemed to change how Greg felt towards Sara. He still thought of her with every beat of her heart, still hated the fact that he couldn't follow her, and, more than everything, he still loved her just as much as he had before.

There was a certain understanding, now, though. Some level of enlightenment that he hadn't reached before, something that maybe he was meant to learn from this, and that was that his love for Sara did not need to be reciprocated. He loved her, and as much as that hurt him and as much as he wished he could stop loving her and move on, somehow, his love for her coupled with their friendship was enough to keep him going when he felt like he was going to collapse in pain all over again. There was a strength that came with this, a strength he had never suspected that he had.

His cell phone rang, and he picked it up with little enthusiasm for who might be calling. The screen read, "Grissom," and Greg just sighed and tossed his phone onto the seat next to him. He couldn't bring himself to talk to Grissom; not now, not when the wound was still fresh.

Instead, he focused his attention on the road. He had a long way to go.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

After his exhausting drive back to Vegas, Greg wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed and go to sleep, but he figured he had spent enough time away from work, so he might as well head in. After all, his dreams tonight were undeniably going to be haunted with images of Sara, and that was something that he wasn't willing to subject himself to at the moment.

Once Greg arrived at work, he ducked into the locker room, hoping to avoid seeing anyone. His strategy failed miserably, as Grissom was waiting for him in the locker room. "Where have you been?" Grissom demanded, looking years older than when Greg had seen him last. "I called you this afternoon, and you didn't answer. Greg, you can't just take vacation time without telling anyone--"

"I told Catherine where I was going," Greg shot back, opening his locker with more force than entirely necessary. "She was supposed to relay the message onto you."

Grissom merely raised an eyebrow and completed his earlier statement. "You can't just take vacation time without telling anyone where you were going."

Greg looked away, hoping Grissom hadn't seen his face. "Oh," he said in a small voice. "Well. Catherine was supposed to tell you that, too, if you asked. Obviously you didn't ask."

"I did ask," Grissom said calmly, though his brow furrowed in frustration. "She said that she wasn't going to get involved, that it was between you and me. So, Greg," he continued, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Where did you go?"

Turning slowly to face Grissom, Greg felt his heartbeat speed up. Now that it was actually time to face Grissom and say what he had been planning on saying, he didn't know if he could actually bring himself to do so. All the fire had gone out of him; now, all he wanted for this to be over. Still, he said what he had meant to all along. "I went to do what you should've done in the first place," Greg said, his voice quiet and introverted. It contained none of the hostility that it had when he had told it to Catherine. Now, it was just a simple statement of fact.

Grissom's face shuffled through a variety of emotions, from surprise to pain to anger and back to pain. Finally, he settled on a calm, detached look, the same one he wore when a crime scene was particularly tragic. "I'll take it you went to San Francisco, then."

Greg nodded without speaking, not trusting himself to say anything. Grissom looked at the young CSI who had once stepped into the role of protégé with little effort, a role that he now seemed to protest at every turn. "Why did you go after her, Greg?" he found himself asking, a sort of bitter sadness in his voice. "You knew she wasn't going to come back."

Greg put his vest on, not meeting Grissom's eyes for a moment. When he finally did, Grissom was surprised to see tears in Greg's eyes. "Because I had to try," answered Greg finally, his eyes hardening. "Because that's what it means to love someone. You go after them, and you try to make them come back, because you love them too much to let them go. Even when they say no, even when they say they can't come back, now or ever, even when—" He trailed off for a moment, tears glinting in his eyes again. "Even when they say that they don't love you enough to come back, you still have to try."

Grissom was silent, Greg's words hitting him harder than punches. Greg was implying that Grissom didn't love Sara, at least not as much as Greg did. After a long moment, Grissom cleared his throat and asked softly, "Will you…will you tell her that I'm sorry that it wasn't me who came after her?"

"Tell her yourself," said Greg, equally quiet. "She said to tell you that she'll be giving you a call." Turning away, Greg looked back for just a moment, and in that moment, Grissom saw how defeated Greg really was. Then he turned away again, and the moment was lost.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Later, Greg was in the lab, laying out the vic's clothes to look them over for trace. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he flipped it open without checking to see who it was. "Sanders."

There was a brief pause, then Sara's voice said softly, "Greg."

Greg's heart seemed to stop for a minute, and even after everything that had happened, he couldn't stop a small smile from touching his face. "Hey."

After another brief pause, Sara asked, almost timidly, "Did you give Grissom my message?"

The smile slid off Greg's face, and for a moment, he looked as if he was tempted to throw his cell phone, or to smash it to pieces then and there. Instead, he took a deep breath, and, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible, he said calmly, "Yes."

"Good," said Sara, her tone even. "Then I won't ever have to mention it or Grissom to you again."

That statement seemed to imply that Sara was planning on talking to Greg more than just this phone call, and Greg couldn't stop his heart from leaping with hope. Still, the realist in him was unconvinced, and so he asked her, again trying to keep his tone as calm and friendly as possible, "What are you doing, Sara? Why are you calling me like this?"

Another pause, but this time, when Sara responded, there was a warmth in her voice that Greg had only heard directed at him a handful of times. "Why am I calling you? Greg, I thought that would obvious. I'm trying to keep you in my life, even though I'm not in Vegas anymore, even though I don't know when or if I'll be back, ever. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Of course it's what I want," responded Greg, his voice softening. "I always want you to be a part of my life, and I want to be a part of yours. We're still best friends, after all, and we always will be."

There was a smile in Sara's voice, and she said, "Good. I'm glad that you're giving me permission to call you on occasion, then. That's all I really wanted. And Greg…" She trailed off, then said, in a quieter voice, "Thank you for being my friend. Even after everything that happened, everything that I said or did."

Greg shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "It's part of the territory, you know," he said, trying for humor. "It happens to be in the job description for best friend. You may want to brush up on your best friend skills if we're going to make this work, though. And besides, I learned something from all of this, that, no matter what your feelings are, I can still love you, even if you don't love me. And I'm not going to let what's happened or whatever will happen in the future stop me from loving you." After a pause, he added, only half-joking, "But whatever happens, I'm going to hold you to what you said earlier: I don't want to hear a word about Grissom and what goes on with him."

Chuckling dryly, Sara promised, "I won't tell you anything that you won't want to know. After all, I don't even know how long Grissom and I can keep this up with each other. His life and mine intersected for so long that the course we took seemed almost natural, but now, our lives have split, and I'm not sure if there's something I can or should do about it."

"Well, what about your life and mine?" Greg asked, unable to help himself, though he wasn't really sure if he wanted to know the answer. "Our lives have split, gone on separate tracks. Does that mean…does that mean that you don't know how long we can keep this up, either?"

Sara's voice softened. "No, Greg, that's not what I'm implying at all. You and I have a different relationship to being with, and our lives haven't split the way that mine and Grissom's have."

Again, Greg couldn't just leave well enough alone, and he insisted, "But you moved away, right? So doesn't that mean that our lives have split just like yours and Grissom's split?"

"No," said Sara simply, her answer firm. "Our lives didn't split that way because you came after me. You reforged or reaffirmed our connection."

Greg couldn't stop himself from smiling, a full smile this time. "I did come after you, didn't I?" he asked, more to himself than her.

She smiled as well; he could hear it in her voice. "Yes, you did. And that's what makes all the difference."