DISCLAIMER: I do not own CSI, any of its plots, its characters, or anything else already copyrighted by Mr. Zuiker. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction...I'd be writing the episodes.

Warnings: none

Author's Note: Thank you, all of those who have submitted reviews! I really enjoy reading them and receiving support for this. To tell the truth, I was somewhat doubtful of it, but now with the backing of your comments, I feel confident. : ) Thank you again and hope you enjoy this update! Also, this is a very outstretched fan fic, and I'm estimating around 20 chapters, give or take some. So keep on checking to see how much progress I've made.

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"So, this Martin Long suspect, he attacked Greg after Greg said something, Jim pulled him off, he attacked Jim, and then attacked me?" Grissom kept walking, despite the perplexing chain of events that lead to his current state. His mother looked up at him, then down again, obviously saddened by something. "What?"

"You haven't mentioned Sara." His eyebrows crinkled together, confused.

"I don't remember anybody named Sara." His mother stopped, and so did he. "Am I supposed to?" She rattled her head slowly up and down, woefully. Her hands began to wring themselves again. "Mom, who is she? And would you stop wringing your hands. That's how you got carpal tunnel, you know."

"Think back to your first lecture in San Francisco. Remember that girl, the one you told me about that you seriously began to think something was happening?" He thought hard, realization suddenly popping onto his face, then disappearing.

"No, I don't." His mother sighed, even more down trodden at this piece of news.

"So that's what you lost." His ears pinned the sadness in her voice.

"He beat me so badly that I can't remember something I clearly should remember?" Her head nodded, and she began to walk again. 'The woman, that brunette woman I keep seeing, could that be her? No, can't be, I can see her.' The beach seemed to be ending, like a cloud mass was cutting off the whole dimension of his subconscious.

"Gil, I can't stay for much longer."

"What do you mean?"

"I can only last so long in your, how'd you describe it, subconscious. Once we walk through the cloud, I'll be gone, but you will stay." He raised an eyebrow toward her, questioning her speech.

"Well, couldn't I just, wake up?"

"No, Gil, you'd have to loose hope and die here. If your hope dies, then you will die." They both fell silent, their separation approaching. Only a few moments away, his mother stopped again and motioned for him to turn to her. "Gil, just remember Sara. If you can remember Sara, then you will make it through, and then the sun will shine. Once you remember Sara, you will wake-up." She embraced her son for the last time and walked toward the cloud.

"But, Mom, can't you just tell me who she is?" Sadly smiling back, she shook her head and whispered back to him, "Goodbye, Gil." Grissom was, once again, alone.