Authors Note- A main character dies. GSR. Hints of YoBling. Please Read and review.

Disclaimer- I don't own CSI or any of the characters. (I wish I did though)

Good Bye, Sara Sidle

Oh my god! were Sara's only thoughts as she left the hospital. This is not good. What will I do? What's going to happen? Who can I tell? No one, I can't tell anyone. Oh, whatever possible higher power there is out there, HELP ME!

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Sara had been feeling bad for a couple of days. I'll have to get used to this. She said to herself as she walked down the hall to the morgue. Catherine was walking beside her, talking nonsense in Sara's opinion.

Soon they went through the doors and were hit by a cool blast of air. On the table in front of them was a bad decomp that smelled all the way down the hall. But being in the room with it was too much for Sara's already upset stomach. She rushed out of the morgue and to the bathroom as discreetly as possible, but Catherine saw the flushed look on her face and she chased after her. Sara could do any kind of case, whether it smelled or not. Something wasn't right.

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Sara rushed into the bathroom and was stationed above the toilet just before her lunch came out. Soon her stomach was completely empty, and all she could do was shake and clean her mouth. She turned around to see Catherine gawking at her. Sara completely ignored her presence as she cleaned her face and washed out her mouth. When she was done she just stood up and closed her eyes. Tell her the truth, it's the only thing you have energy to do.

"What is wrong?" Catherine asked, walking up behind her.

"Well, about 3 weeks ago I went to the doctor, and I found out I have breast cancer. I…" Sara responded before Catherine interrupted her.

"Are you taking Chemotherapy?"

"Yes, I just had it…"

"Are you still living at home?"

"Yes, where else would I…"

"Are you going to keep working?"

"Well, what else do I have to…?"

"Have you told Griss…?"

"God damn it, could you let me answer before I finish?" Sara asked, fed up with the consistent stream of questions. When her answer came in silence, she bucked up, turned around, and said, "Yes, I am going to chemotherapy. I just went last week. Yes, I am still living at home. Where else would I go? Well, what else do I have to do if I'm not working? And I haven't told anybody but you and you're going to keep your claptrap shut. Don't tell anyone, PLEASE!"

"Well, you have to tell someone. You're not going to be able to keep working like you are. You can't hide it forever," Catherine said, concern inching into her voice.

"Well, I plan on not doing anything different. I work, I go home, I go to chemotherapy when they tell me to, and I live," Sara responded. She sounded tiered and spent. "That is the way I've lived anyway, why change now."

The next thing Catherine asked was hard to get out, and she immediately regretted saying it.

"How long do you have?"

Sara didn't expect anyone to be so outright about that touchy subject. But if she asked outright, she'll answer outright.

"They say I've got 3 months."

"Well, then what are you doing around here. You should go out and live!" Catherine said, trying to make a joke of it. "Shouldn't you be out doing stuff?"

"I am living," Sara said, a small smile creeping up on her face as she walked toward the door, " Don't you remember? King Kong on Cocaine."

"You still feel that?" Catherine asked.

By now a full-fledged smile had spread across her flushed face. "I always feel like that, unless we don't get them. Then I feel like a slug on downers. Shall we go finish our autopsy now that I have nothing more to throw up," Sara said, and walked out of the room.

How could she be joking around like that? She just said she had 3 months to live, Catherine thought as she stared at the door. That means it must be pretty advanced. Ohhhhh, I've got to talk to Grissom. And with that she resolved that she would act like Sara. She didn't need people being depressed around her.

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Jesus Christ, I never realized how late that girl stays, Catherine thought to herself as she made her way to Grissom's office. She decided it wouldn't be a good idea to talk to Grissom while she was still there. But now that she left, she went into Grissom's office without knocking, sat down, and waited for him to recover from the shock of her barging into his personal space. Soon he put down his magazine and took off his glasses.

"Yes?" Grissom asked, eyeing the woman that just sat down.

"You have to talk to Sara. She asked me to not tell you, so I won't, but you have to talk to her. She's not well," Catherine said in one breath.

"All right," Grissom said wearily, "I'll talk to her tomorrow."

And as the woman walked out of his office in the haste to get home, he put his head in his hands and thought, What have you done this time, Sara Sidle.

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The next day when Grissom walked into the breakroom to give out information slips, he noticed a couple of things. The guys were acting like the always did, which means that whatever is up with Sara, they don't know about. The second was that Sara was staring down Catherine, which means Sara doesn't trust Catherine with whatever she told her. And Catherine was reading a magazine as usual, but she wasn't reading the words, just staring.

When he finally cleared his throat to announce his presence, they all looked up as normal.

"Greg, Nick, Warrick, you have a dB at a residence. High profile so watch out for the press. Catherine, Sara, you're with me. We have a double just outside Henderson," Grissom said as he handed out information slips. Just before Sara walked out the door, he called out,

"Sara, may I see you in my office for a moment?"

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Sara sat in Grissom's office looking at all of the scientific experiments and books on different subjects. He had actually organized his desk enough to be able to see the plastic top. This must be my favorite part of this lab. You never know what to expect.

Her musings were cut short by Grissom saying,

"I have found out that there is something that we should talk about, but I have not been disclosed to this information. Maybe you could just tell me and make this easier."

Sara responded to this by saying to no one other than herself,

"You know, you try to trust someone and they go behind your back. I'm going to kill Catherine when I get my hands on her. She is going to be so dead she won't even remember what I told her…." Her ranting continued until Grissom held up a hand as to say 'stop' and said in a very stern voice,

"Catherine has not told me anything. But is there something that you told Catherine that you want to share? You seem pretty worked up about it."

Grissom knew he was lying through his teeth, and she knew too. But this statement silenced her, causing her to stand up and look at different scientific marvels on display in the room. He took this time to look at her more than he had been permitted to for the last few weeks. He noticed that her skin was pale and her face was shallow. He also noticed that she seemed thinner than before. He was wondering if she was getting enough sleep when she spoke up.

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"Everyone is going to find out anyway. I just didn't want it to come out so soon," Sara said, her voice becoming thick with the tears that threatened to over throw the lids and reach the outside world. She closed her eyes and thwarted their escape. It seemed like a long time before she spoke up with a clearer voice. "I still have to get used to this. I don't think I have ever been this scared in my life. I am around death everyday, but when a doctor tells you that you only have 3 months to live, you crack. Everything becomes proportionate." By now a few tears had broke free, leaving salty stains down her cheeks. For 2 weeks now she had kept everything bottled up in her, but now it was far too much. She was sad, scared, and angry. And no one could do anything about it.

"What are you talking about?" Grissom asked as he walked up behind her.

Sara was not one to not face her opponent, and right now, that was the man in back of her. She whirled around; presenting a tear streaked face and hollow eyes. But her voice was only tinged with emotion, but otherwise completely professional. "A couple of weeks ago my doctor diagnosed that I have a strong form of Breast Cancer. He also told me that I have 3 months to live."

This was too much for Grissom, who could only look into those swollen, shallow eyes and see too much pain and sorrow that any young woman deserves to have. His instant reaction to seeing the woman that he loves but had held at arm length for such a long time was to not hold her at arm length anymore. He pulled her into a hug, gently stroking her hair and telling her lies that everything would be all right. And she finally let loose all of the emotions that she had kept bottled up for so long, right into Grissom's shirt. And they stayed there for so long, for they both knew it was right.

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Grissom did Sara the favor of telling the guys about her condition, and told them that she didn't want to talk about it, or get let of easy. Their reaction could only be expected from people who were just told that their sister and best friend was just diagnosed with cancer and only had 3 months to live. Grissom felt bad for them and told them, "Don't ask her about it unless she talks to you. She wants to be treated normal, do her that favor." And with that he walked out of the room, leaving three very shell-shocked men to worry about this piece of information alone.

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The next three months went normal, until Sara's last projected week. At this point everyone, including Grissom, treated her with distance and like she was the walking dead. Finally she shouted out, "GOD DAMN IT, I'M NOT DEAD YET!" And with this outburst they treated her normally.

But she didn't that week, much to her relief. And she didn't die the week after that, or the week after that. This life of living on the edge lasted for 3 more months, when even her doctor couldn't tell what was going on.

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Sara had been working on a domestic abuse case and she was thoroughly drained. Even though she tried to stay the same, she knew she was changing. Her skin was getting paler and paler. She was getting so thin her doctor told her she had to eat more. And even though no one else noticed it, her hair was gradually growing thinner. Above all, this pissed her off the most. But she never lost the soft glow in her eyes and her brilliant smile, no matter what happened.

She had lived longer than she ever should have, and that was enough to make her smile. But she had a feeling that it wasn't going to last much longer, so she pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down the feelings she had wanted to express for so long now. It said

Dear Gil Grissom,

If you are reading this I'm probably dead because I would never let anyone get his or her paws on it otherwise. And I am sorry, but I've got to say it. I'm sorry for your loss. (EVIL LAUGH) But you, Grissom, have a big job to do.

I need you to tell the guys how much I love them and that they have treated me so well and that I could never repay them for all the love that they have shown me. And wish them good luck on their romantic pursuits. (And you tell Warrick and Catherine if they don't get it together I'm goin' to come back from the dead and haunt them till they do) (Evil Laugh)

I want you to tell Catherine how much she has meant to me over these years (I woulda hit a wall if it wasn't for her), even if she and I haven't gotten along so well in the past. Tell her she is more than I ever deserve and that she is the best friend a girl could have.

Don't worry, I haven't forgotten you. I wanna thank you for being there for me when I needed it the most. And thank you for giving me fantasies that something between us could happen. And last, but certainly not least. I want to thank you for bringing me to Las Vegas, no matter how much I have bitched, moaned, and complained about it. Oh yeah, do me the biggest favor I could ask of you. Get yourself a girlfriend, because life is to short and days are to precious to waste alone. That I have learned from experience.

With lots of love and happiness to share,

Sara Sidle

Sara Sidle, CSI

And in finishing this writing, she laid her head down and fell to sleep happily.

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Catherine walked into the room and noticed Sara sleeping peacefully on the table. Catherine had taken a motherly role toward Sara in the past months after she heard about her condition. She hated waking the peacefully sleeping woman in front of her, but she will feel worse if she didn't wake her up. Catherine walked over and called her name softly. When she didn't respond, Catherine lightly tapped her shoulder and called her name again. When she didn't respond again, she spoke louder and shook her shoulder. After this didn't do anything, Catherine looked upon her peaceful, smiling face and checked for a pulse. Finding none, she called the hospital, but already knew the truth. As tears brimmed her eyes, she said the saddest thing she had ever said.

"Good Bye Sara Sidle."

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A small congregation of people all dressed in black stood around on a small dock. The weather was one that favored them, with bright sun and a slight wind. The somber crowd was looking at the speaker, Bill Sidle.

"We are all here to mourn the death of a wonderful sister, and a beloved friend, Sara Sidle. She never had it easy, but she kept living. After the funeral of our grandparents, mind you, at this point she was only 7, she told me she wanted her remains sent down to New Orleans and for everyone to have a big party. She said she didn't want people mourning her death, but celebrating the fact that we're rid of her.

"Well, we know what that means. She wanted us to celebrate the life she led. She was a most amazing person to anyone that she met, with great charisma and the ability to find something good about anyone. She could dream up anything, and did anything she put her mind to. She wouldn't want us to be crying, but laughing at all of the hilarious things she did. And all we can say is may she please be able to rest in the peace she deserves. Good bye, Sara Sidle."

"You are all invited to the Seaside inn where Sara and I grew up for a jovial reception that even Sara couldn't dream up."

With this he dumped the ashes of his beloved sister off the end of the pier into the swirling water below, then he departed up the hill to the inn to prepare the reception. Slowly people moved to the end of the pier to pay their final respects to the person they loved so dearly, and went to the in. No matter how much they wanted to abide by Sara's wishes, it was hard to be jovial when their best friend just died. But soon Greg started laughing about the funny things Sara would do, little idiosyncrasies like the look on her face when you made jokes about her. Catherine, though, never left Warrick's protective arms.

Soon, everyone but Bill and Grissom had left, Bill because he lived and worked there, and Grissom because he just couldn't leave.

"You know," Bill said as he cleaned up, "Sara always spoke so fondly of you. I think she had a schoolgirl crush on you. She was always so hopeful about everything when she came here. I guess this old house just reminded her of how lucky she was to get away." But when he turned around he found out that he was talking to himself.

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Grissom couldn't stand it anymore. He rushed down to the pier just before his eyes started tearing. He looked out upon the water where his beloved Sara had been put to rest. All that would go through his mind. I wanna thank you for being there for me when I needed it the most… something between us could happen… get yourself a girlfriend, because life is to short and days are to precious to waste alone.

And as he looked over the water, and up to the sky, he could almost see her twinkling eyes and phenomenal smile. Tears were now flowing freely down his face as he kneeled down on the edge of the pier and touched the water. He had missed out on being with her, but he would never forget her. And for the last time, he said the words that hurt his tongue to say.

Good Bye, Sara Sidle.