The message that was left on his phone was a bit alarming. Her sudden outburst of I love you, and the way she had said goodbye, like she wasn't going to see him tomorrow, or the next day or any other day after that.

She had seemed a little bothered today during shift, like something kept her unfocused. Unsure of what to make of her phone call, he called her cell.

"You've reached Sara Sidle, please leave your name and number..."

No luck, he called her house, answering machine.

"Sara, it's Grissom. If you're there, please pick up. I need to talk to you…" still no answer. He had to see if she was okay, shift was over anyway, so he went out to his car, and figured he would drop by her apartment on his way home.

MEANWHILE…

Sara had just arrived home from shift; she had been distracted during work about what she planned on doing after she got home. Then, Catherine had asked her if she wanted to join the rest of them for breakfast at the diner, minus Grissom who had paperwork to do. On a normal day, she would have happily gone with them. At the diner they would have talked and laughed, while trying to forget about any sad or gruesome sights during shift the night before, which might cause them to lose their appetites. But she was too focused on getting home, and turned down Catherine's offer, saying she had some errands to run before getting to bed.

Sara hung up her coat and took of her shoes, as she went to go sit on the couch. Flipping out her cell-phone, she tried to prepare what she would say. When Grissom was doing last minute paperwork for Ecklie, he usually turned off his phone. So now would be the best time to call if she wanted to get his voicemail, which she hoped for. She didn't say much in the message she left him, but the highlights were, "I love you," and "Goodbye." The way she had said goodbye, was like saying there was no tomorrow. She struggled to refrain herself from sobbing, and to keep her emotions out of her voice, which she successfully did, but still hot tears streamed down her face.

When Sara hung up the phone, she took a few minutes to compose herself. Then she went down the hallway, to her bedroom, and dropped her self onto the bed. She reached for the small piece of metal that had been left on her nightstand for the past few months.

She had slept alone in her bed for more than a long time now; she never tried to date in the past year, because she finally thought Grissom would give in and go to dinner or something with her. But her empty bed just reminded her that she had failed, quite miserably. Her life hadn't been going the way she would have preferred: Grissom had recommended Nick for the promotion, some cases were interfering with her emotions more than she would have liked, she seemed to be drifting away from the team, her drinking problem looked like it was returning, and she still couldn't get Grissom to go out to dinner with her. She examined the piece of metal as it shined in the light, sadly, a few months ago; she had turned back to what she had done as a child. The only way she had felt that she had any control over her life; she knew it was a bad thing to do, and you could kill yourself by doing it, but today that was her goal.

Sara did not hesitate as she touched the blade to her wrist, but she did stop for a moment before yanking it in a downward motion. She cringed at the pain. The blood flowed faster and faster from her wrist, as she dragged the blade down farther and deeper. She dropped it to the floor on the side of her bed, as she winced from the pain she was feeling, and kept her eyes sealed shut, to keep the tears in. Sara placed her arm out in front of her, as she watched how the blood streamed down her wrist, pooling on the bed, which would soak in and later leave a nice red stain on the comforter. But Sara wouldn't care; she didn't plan on being there to worry.

After a few minutes the pool had grown bigger, and Sara was starting to feel light-headed and dizzy, but most of all, cold. The coolness caused her to shiver, so she pulled back the blood soaked comforter, and slid underneath it. The warmth only lasted a minute or so, as blood still raced out of her body. Darkness started to corner her, and without a second thought she closed her eyes. Which welcomed the darkness that took over her body as death's grip pulled her down.

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Grissom pulled up in front of her apartment building, he had barely parked the car by the time he had jumped out, racing up the stairs to her door. He pounded on it twice, "Sara, its Grissom. Please open the door!" When he got no response, he knocked again. Still nothing, he tried the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked. He slowly entered her apartment.

"Sara!" he called out a few times, still getting no response. He scanned the kitchen and the living room with his eyes, seeing she wasn't there, he moved down a hallway that he presumed led to her bedroom. Opening the door slowly, saying her name once again, he saw her motionless body on the bed. Running over to her, the wound on her wrist became visible. Quickly, Grissom wrapped a blanket tight around her wrist and then called for an ambulance. At first he was hopeful, that what she had done, the doctors could fix and she would be fine. But he soon became skeptical of his own thought as he looked at her, the color was drained from her face, her lips were a slight shade of blue from the amount of blood that she had lost, and she was cold to the touch. He wrapped his arms around her almost lifeless body, pulling her close to him.

"Why, Sara, why?" he managed to get out before his tears streamed down his face, and sobs raked his body. When his tears subsided for mere seconds, he repeated, "Why, Sara, why?"

Startling him slightly, she moved her arm against his chest, and brought her hand to his face. She looked him straight in the eye as she said calmly, "Because I love you." As he gazed into her eyes, the warmth in them was gone, and the sparkle had faded, but behind all that, he could have sworn he saw a quick flicker of happiness. Sara was thankful that she wouldn't die alone, and she was glad that it was Grissom who was with her. Bringing her hand down from his face; she slowly closed her eyes again, for the final time.

Quietly he said, "I love you too Sara." But saying it now, he was too late. The color again drained from her skin, and she looked white as a ghost. Grissom touched his fingers to her neck… discovering that she had indeed left him. He grasped her tighter and closer to him, as his sobs made his body shudder, and he let his tears fall onto her colorless skin. He gently placed her heartbreaking figure on the bed again, as the ambulance sirens came near.

The paramedics rushed into the room, but found the same outcome as Grissom had, she was gone. Gone… gone forever, he would never see her smile again, or hear her soothing voice, and he would never get the chance to show her how much he cared for her.

He couldn't help but blame himself partially for what she had done. Maybe if he had been more open about his feelings for her, maybe, she would have talked to him…maybe, she would have told him what was troubling her…maybe, he would have been able to help her. At least then he would have had the chance to tell her that he loved her, but now, he would never get that chance.

Grissom called in sick that night, even though it was really more like emotionally sick; he couldn't get the tears to stop flowing, no matter what he did. He hadn't called the team yet, and was trying to figure out how to tell them that Sara was gone, never to return. As he lay in bed, and closed his eyes, he kept replaying the scene in her bedroom. It was torture, but he couldn't stop it. He reopened his eyes, and then closed them again, this time seeing her Sidle Smile from during shift, and hearing her laugh after one of Greg's jokes.

Opening his eyes quickly, he remembered the voicemail she had left him. Now it was the only thing he had of her. The last time he listened to it before trying to sleep, he replied when she said I love you, with an, "I love you too," hoping that somewhere she could hear his voice saying those words. Before closing his eyes to the restless slumber that awaited him, he saved her message to his phone. Listening to it every night, from then on, hoping she could hear his response.

THE END