A/N: A one shot about Greg and suicide, so if you don't like that kinda stuff don't read. My editor is the wonderful ObessedTWfan! She rocks! Though I'm sorry the stupid computer wouldn't let me see the changes she made! So I had to re-edit myself. I really need a new and faster computer! My mom might get me one for christmas, she doesn't know I know so don't tell her! Hehe

Dedicated to: Alicat Sanders.

Because of the music video you're making me! You rock too! Also because you're a good friend, even though we just met. I'm a good judge of character, as far as I know. Who knows, I may be a bad judge of character, but people are just good at acting nice! Nah, I'd rather believe my first theory. Anyway enjoy!

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The insessent beeping of his alarm clock awoke him from his deep slumber. Greg opened one eye and peered at his alarm clock.

Sighing he turned it off the alarm and rolled out of bed.

In the bathroom, he quickly showered and got dressed. Looking into the mirror, he decided that it was too much effort to gel his hair today. In fact, he barely did anymore, but no one really noticed anyway.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes wearily and took a prescription bottle out of his medicine cabinet. Shaking two of the orange pills out of the container, he popped them into his mouth and swallowed them dry.

He looked out his apartment window into the gloomy, dark sky. He sighed, "Another perfect day," he thought to himself sarcastically.

He ventured out into the hallway after grabbing his jacket. He pushed open the door and walked into the parking lot. A single drop of rain tentively hit his arm and then the downpour started.

Greg pulled his jacket closer around him as the rain pelted him ruthlessly. He was grateful to reach his car. He climbed in and put the key in the ignition. Unfortunately the vehical just wouldn't start for him.

"Dammit!" He voiced loudly, banging his head on the steering wheel repeatedly. In the end he accidentally honked the horn five or so times.

From within the lot, someone honked back angrily and Greg jumped, hitting his head on the edge of the wheel.

He rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment before he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, so he could call a cab.

He looked at the screen as he flipped it open, "Needs recharging," it stated simply.

"AHHHHHH!" He screamed in frustration as he threw the phone down. He knew he was going to be late for work.

Greg ran back into his apartment, dodging rain drops as he went. "Would anyone even notice if I didn't show up?" He thought to himself as a small sigh escaped his lips. They'd notice enough to deduct it from his pay or yell at him, that was for sure. He wasn't really part of the team, just another rookie, unworthy of any real attention or affection.

Slowly he wandered back into the bathroom, not realizing what he was doing, until he actually started the process of pulling out the familiar precription bottle and emptying the last of its contents into his palm.

He tossed the last fifteen or so anti-depressents into his mouth two by two and finishing the with the last one. He walked into the kitchen and grabbing an open beer from last night, from on the table, and washed down the pills.

Greg dragged himself to his bedroom and collasped onto the unmade bed, waiting for the drugs to take their effects, "It'll be just another case to them," Greg thought with tears in his tired eyes. Eyes he had thought he'd cried dry.

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"Has anyone seen Greg?" Grissom asked with frustration evident in his voice, "He's late, again."

"Probably slept in again," Nick observed.

"He usually calls in by now, apologizing like crazy," Catherine cut in, amused.

"I'm worried," Sara stated a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach, something told her it wasn't nothing, "I'm going to go check on him."

"It's a waste of time, but I won't stop you," Grissom told her, "Just make sure he gets his ass into gear."

"Yeah," Sara replied quietly as she left the breakroom, she made sure to grab an umbrella on her way out of the building.

Hopping into her Denali, she called Greg's cell phone on her own.

"The number you are calling is not in service," the fake, overly cheerful and pre-recorded voice stated. She wondered who recorded all of thoses messages, someone with less of a social life than her no doubt.

Sighing, she hung up and headed toward Greg's apartment complex.

She parked next to Greg's car in the parking lot and noticed his car door was slightly ajar.

Worriedly, she got out of her own and opened the door the rest of the way. She looked into the vehicle and saw Greg's phone, broken on the floor.

Thoughts and possiblilties of what might've happened to him raced through Sara's mind. He could've been killed, attacked or even abducted. What if the same thing that happened to Nick...happened to Greg? She shivered at the very thought.

Sara, without thinking to call Grissom, ran to Greg's apartment door and found it unlocked. Carefully she opened it and glanced inside. An open beer was on the counter, she noted it and started to methodically search the apartment for her missing friend.

In the bathroom she saw an translucent orange bottle laying in the sink and her mind immediatly panicked. Dashing into Greg's bedroom, she was horrified at the sight that awaited her.

Greg was pale, lying prone on the bed, muttering to himself, something about not being part of the team.

Grabbing the bedside phone she dialed 911 and explained the situation to the operator, then she turned her attention back to Greg.

"Oh God, Greg!" Sara whispered, "what did you do?"

"Didn't think you'd notice," Greg answered quietly, with pain in his voice.

"Oh Greg!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she stood over him.

"Take my hand

and lead me away from here," he muttered.

"Huh?" Sara asked, confused at his mumblings.

"Take my heart

and hold it dear," he continued and it was only then Sara realized he was reciting a poem.

"Take me away

from the pain I feel,

take me away

from everything real,

take me away

from those who don't understand,

take me away

from this horrid land,

take me away

and hold me in your arms,

take me away

from all the world harms,

take me away

just for awhile,

take me away

and give me a chance to smile,

take my hand

and lead me away from here,

take my heart

and hold it dear," he finished quietly, his eyes had started to glaze over.

Sara slipped her hand into his and whispered soothingly, "C'mon, Greg let's go, I'll lead you away from here, okay?"

Greg nodded and allowed himself to be pulled into a sitting position.

Carefully Sara helped him to his feet and led him to the living room. She sat him on the couch and moved beside him. Sara drew Greg towards her in a tight hug. Greg leaned into her, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Shhhhhhh..." Sara soothed him, hugging Greg even tighter.

Sirens appeared, first quietly, but steadily growing louder.

The paramedics burst into the room and pulled Greg gently away from Sara. She noticed that Hank had been one ofthe paramedics whom had responded to the call. They loaded the young man onto a stretcher.

Sara never let go of Greg's hand and walked in sync with the rolling of the stretcher. It was halfway in the ambulance when Hank told her, "Sara... Sara, you have to leave him now."

"No, I wanna go with him," she pleaded with him.

Hank looked at her for a moment and, partly because of his guilt for what he had done to her in the past, relented, "Okay, get in."

Still holding Greg's now limp hand, she climbed into the ambulance.

At the hospital she had to leave him. It broke her heart when his hand was wrenched from hers. She finally called Grissom and told him of the events that had taken place.

In the waiting room, hours later, Grissom met with her, "How is he?" He asked.

"Is that all you can say!" Sara screamed at him angrily, "It's a waste of time, huh?"

"I didn't know," Grissom began, but Sara cut her off.

"If I hadn't gone, Greg would be dead!" Sara continued.

"Listen-" Grissom tried again to say something, but Sara wasn't done with him yet.

"He didn't think you'd notice and he was right! He didn't feel wanted and you did nothing to contradict that! She finished, panting and out of breath from her outburst.

"Are you done?" Grissom asked.

"Yes," Sara answered coldly.

"I realized this is partly my fault, but we are all to blame," Grissom told her.

"I know...I" Sara trailed off.

"Kin of Greg Sanders?" An older doctor called out.

"That's me," Sara answered without hesitation.

"He'll be fine physically, but we're going to have to put him under Suicide Watch for 72 hours," the doctor informed her passively.

"Can I see him?" She asked, her eyes pleaded for a yes.

"One minute, follow me," he walked down the hall of the ICU and Sara trailed after him.

He opened the door to reveal a pale man, hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. This wasn't the Greg she knew. The crazy spikey haired man she knew was somewhere else and she desperately wanted him back.

"Greg!" Sara ran to his bedside and pulled a chair to sit beside him. She took his hand again and kissed it gently.

"Sara?" He asked quietly into the haze surrounding him and slowly the images became clearer.

"I'm right here," she whispered back.

"Good," he answered simply.

"Don't ever scare me like that ever again," she ordered sternly.

"You were scared? For me?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, now promise me," she demanded.

"I promise," Greg whispered with tears sliding silently down his cheeks.

"Why? Greg, why?" Sara demanded from his tearily, what had made her friend this down.

"I just, I dunno..."Greg trailed off silently for a moment, "I felt so alone, so utterly, hopelessly alone."

"Oh Greg. Your never alone," Sara assured him, "I'll always be here."

"I know, but everything just got to be too much," Greg continued tiredly, "I didn't know which way to go, which path to take. I couldn't deal with it all."

"All what?" Sara pressed, she talking about it would help him in the long run.

"All the things people do to eachother," he tried to explain, "It just seems so pointless, all that hatred and death."

"That's what we're here for," Sara told him, "to stop those people with hatred and evil in their hearts."

"Do you really believe that what we do makes a difference?" He asked, "For every killer we put away, there's ten more on the streets."

"Every killer we put away, may have killed someone if we didn't," was her simple answer.

"Everyone dies sooner or later," Greg said morbidly.

"Better later," she told him gently, "Imagine the killers that would wal without you there to bring them to justice.?"

"Guess, you're right there," Greg told her, perking the slightest bit, but still not ready to smile, "Maybe its not that hopeless."

"It's not, but they're gonna keep you here for a few days," Sara informed him gently as she gazed at his pale form.

"I know, and hey, lucky me, I get a psyche evaluation," Greg said sarcastically.

"Not funny, Greggo," Sara replied seriously, "for all we know you need one," she lapsed into a joke and rapped her fist lightly on his head.

"Ma'am, you have to leave your husband now," the doctor poked his head in the room and she didn't bother to correct him.

Sara quietly distangled her hand from Greg's and kissed his cheek before standing up and heading toward the door.

"Sara?" Greg called out in a timid voice.

"Yeah," she answered sympathetically as she turned her head towards him.

"Thanks...for stopping me from making the biggest mistake of my life, or my death.

Whichever way you want to put it," he said just loud enough for her to hear.

"Hang on, Greggo and I'll lead you away from the road you're taking," Sara promised.

Greg smiled broadly for the first time in a long while and answered, "You already have."

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Please read and review, I wanna know if you liked it! Even if you don't like it, review, then you can tell me why! Flames are fine, as long as their is something vaguely constructive... in it... somewhere. Hehe

Love: Nicole