Disclaimers: We all know what they are, so I won't put them here.
AN: First off, Congrats to Marg for her Golden Globe Nomination.
Secondly to Angie and Em for beta-ing this and to Rita for the title.
Thank you for all the encouragement you've given me. This is the
first fic I actually wrote and am finally posting the first part of
many. Feedback greatly appreciated. You guys ROCK!!!
Part 1/?
Catherine stepped out of the Tahoe and looked up at the night sky before opening the back door to get her kit. 'It's a beautiful night,' she thought, sighing softly, gazing at the stars that blanketed the inky sky. She turned and walked over to the officer talking with Grissom.
"Body's in there," he gestured towards the house. "Second floor, first door to your right. No sign of the baby though."
Catherine nodded to him and stepped through the entryway. She looked around for a moment, then headed upstairs.
The bloody body lying in the bathroom doorway was the first thing she noticed. Taking in the appearance of the room, she walked gingerly around the debris that littered the floor. "Looks like there was quite a struggle in here," she muttered to the room, softly. She set her case down and donned a pair of latex gloves and proceeded to take pictures of the body and surrounding area.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She may have been pretty, but with the gaping hole in the side of her head, it was difficult to tell. The blood that had pooled under her head had congealed into a black, sticky mess that matted her long black hair and covered what was left of her face and upper chest. Pieces of brain matter were stuck to her skull and hair, making her look like some grotesque character in a horror movie.
Catherine sighed; she hated scenes like this. She hated all scenes, especially the children, but this kind of violence really stayed with her, making her wake up in a cold sweat, shivering and frightened. It was crimes like this that make her wonder about her career choice and her sanity.
"Why do we do this, Gil? Why?" she asked aloud.
"I've asked myself that many times, Cath." Grissom's voice came from behind her. "How'd you know I was here?"
Turning to glance at him, she said, "You smell."
"Excuse me?" Gil was indignant.
"The soap you use, I can smell it." She turned back to the body. "Somebody sure hated her. To do this to her," she gestured to the body.
"Crime of pass. . ." Gil trailed off as Catherine cocked her head to the right, listening for something.
"Shhhh," she said suddenly. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Catherine held up one hand. "There it is again. Do you hear it? It sounds like a baby crying." Catherine's voice rose an octave.
Gil listened carefully for a moment, "Cath, I don't hear anything."
"Where's the baby? They said the baby wasn't here. Then where is it?" The hair on Catherine's neck rose. "Go check in the other room, it's coming from over there," she said gesturing to her left.
"Catherine, are you sure you're not hearing things? They've searched the house and didn't find it. The baby could be with a sitter or kidnapped." Gil was trying to be logical, but the look on Catherine's face stopped him from saying more. "I'm not imagining it! And a sitter would have called already. Go look." She stood and moved slowly around in a circle, trying to determine what she was hearing and where it was coming from. "Please?" she added unnecessarily, as Gil was already on his way.
Catherine heard the cry again and walked over to the closet. She knew she heard a baby cry. There, again, a little louder. She opened the closet door and looked around. The crying was getting louder, and Catherine felt the unexpected answering well of tears in her own eyes. 'I know I'm not imagining it,' she thought as she started taking things out of the closet, searching for the source. It was louder now, and she paused to get her bearings before shoving more things out of the way.
"Cath, there was nothing there," Gil came to a halt when he saw her digging through the closet. He was getting worried, he still didn't hear anything and was getting frustrated. "Maybe it's the wind blowing through the trees," he offered.
Catherine was frantic now, she knew she heard a baby crying. "No, it's not the damned wind, Grissom." Her eye caught an oddity in the paneling on back wall of the closet. It looked like it had been haphazardly wedged into place. Curious, she rapped her knuckle across it. "I think there is a space back here, Gris." She wedged her finger under the bottom of one panel and pulled. "Dammit! Help me Gil!" She could feel herself starting to panic. Gil stepped into the closet and she moved to make him room. They pulled on the board together and it came loose.
Silence. There was a small space back there, as if someone had walled off a room when they remodeled the closet. "Flashlight," she snapped, dropping to her knees.
Gil quickly retrieved a flashlight from her case and handed it to her, squatting behind her to try and get a look.
Catherine leaned forward and shined the flashlight around the space. There in the back corner was a sight that she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life. A baby, maybe 9 months old, clutching a tattered blanket was huddled in the corner, the blue sleeper it was wearing covered in dirt. The baby appeared to be unharmed. An empty bottle was on the floor next to it. "Dear God," she breathed out, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Taking a deep breath and praying for calm, she said softly, "Hey honey. It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you." She reached for the baby, but it shrunk from her and started to cry in earnest. So focused on the baby she didn't hear Grissom's muttered exclamation of "Oh my God!"
Catherine lay on her stomach, wedged herself into the small opening, reaching out for the baby. "Come out, honey, it's alright. We won't hurt you." She scooted further into the opening, and gently grasped the baby's blanket, pulling it closer to her. "Come on sweetie, it's gonna be ok." Setting the flashlight on the floor, she stretched both arms out to the baby, finally being able to wrap her hands around its waist. "Pull us out, Gil," she said while she pulled the baby closer and laid him down, covering its head with her own. The baby was still crying, but allowed her to cuddle him close. She was unaware of her tears falling onto the baby's head. When she was completely out of the space, she sat up and cradled the baby to her body.
"It's ok, honey," she crooned, swaying back and forth. "Let me look at you. Are you hurt? I bet you're hungry." She inspected the baby and didn't find any obvious signs of injuries. She laid her cheek to the baby's head and looked at Grissom, surprised to see his own eyes were watery. "It's ok, I promise, it'll be ok," she kept repeating over and over, trying to suppress the sob that rose in the back of her throat.
Gil stood and laid his hand on Catherine's head. "Cath, they've got to call Children's Protective Services." He looked down at her and realized that she hadn't heard him. She just kept rocking the baby and whispering to it. Sighing he stepped out into the hallway and called to an officer. "We found a baby, call CPS, now." After receiving an affirmative nod, Gil walked back into the bedroom. He stood there for a moment, watching Catherine. The baby had stopped crying and was sucking its fist, seemingly content at the moment. Going over, he knelt down and tenderly ran a hand through her hair. "Let's get this baby downstairs." She just looked at him without saying anything. She didn't need to; he could read the pain and horror in her eyes.
At that moment, Sara Sidle and Nick Stokes walked in. Sensing the strain in the room, Nick asked cautiously, "What's going on?"
Without sparing them a glance, Gil answered delicately, "Catherine found a baby boarded up in the closet. Cath?" When she didn't answer, he tried again. "Catherine, we need to get the baby downstairs. Come on, honey, let's go." He was unaware of the endearment, but the shocked looks on Sara and Nick's faces revealed that they did. Gil took Catherine gently by the elbow and guided her to her feet, leading her past Sara and Nick and out of the room.
Catherine's eyes caught Sara's for a moment and Sara was surprised at the look of sorrow on her face. Cath always took the scenes with children the hardest, even harder than she did. How the older woman did this and took care of a young daughter, she never knew. Sara knew herself well enough to know that she couldn't handle the load that Catherine did with the grace that she handled it with.
As they reached to top of the stairs, Catherine seemed to come out of her trance. "I bet he's hungry," she told Gil. "I'm going to go and see if there is anything for him to eat before CPS gets here. He shouldn't have to wait."
Gil sighed in relief; Catherine was back, mothering everyone she came across. "I'll go with you. You get into trouble without me," he teased her.
"I'd tell you to shut up, but I have to watch my language around the baby," she retorted.
Gil chuckled at her; he'd been worried about her for a few minutes. He knew she took cases involving children personally, but he had never seen that look in her eyes before.
They entered the kitchen and Catherine turned to Gil, thrusting the baby at him. "Here, hold him while I get him something to eat."
"Wait a minute! I'm not holding him. I don't hold babies." He backed away a step, noting with alarm that she followed him.
Suppressing a giggle at the panicked look on his face, she said, "You held Lindsey. Take him or do you want to feed him? Your choice." She smiled at him disarmingly, "Please?"
Groaning, Gil knew she had him beat; he never could refuse her anything she asked for when she flashed that smile at him. Awkwardly, he held the baby, its back to him one arm supporting the diaper-clad bottom and the other across its chest. "Lindsey was different," he grumbled.
Going through the cabinets, Catherine found some jarred baby food and powdered formula. Figuring it was easier to give him a bottle than to try and take the time to feed him solid food, she searched for a bottle. Her experience with Lindsey told her that feeding a baby was not a quick affair. She paused for a moment, looking around the kitchen. "Eureka!" she said as she found an assortment of bottles and parts in the dishwasher. Looking to Gil, who had been watching her intently, she asked, "Why was Lindsey different? They're all just babies." She filled the bottle up with tap water, waiting until it had reached the right temperature.
"Well," he stammered uncharacteristically. "She didn't smell for one thing," he wrinkled his nose as the odor emanating from the baby hit is olfactory nerve. "She wasn't hungry, and . . .and she just was," he finished lamely.
Catherine smiled at him knowingly, shaking the bottle to mix the formula and walked toward him. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, surprising him. She popped the bottle in the baby's open mouth. "That was because you always caught her right after I fed her and changed her. Come on Gris, you can change his diaper." She walked up the stairs, leaving him alone with the baby.
"Catherine!" he wailed as he followed her up the stairs. He caught up with her at the top of the steps and followed her down the hall to the room that was obviously the baby's. "I am NOT changing this kid," he stated emphatically. Nick poked his head out of the room and grinned at the two of them.
"Why not Gris, you've got gloves on," she teased him, clearing enjoying this, but changed her mind quickly at his pointed look. "Oh for the love of God, Gris, I was just teasing," she said, reaching for the baby. "I've got this under control, why don't you go process something or whatever it is you do." She disappeared into the nursery.
Minutes later, she was back. She'd changed the baby's clothes as well and cleaned him up a bit. "I need an evidence bag for this," she said, holding out the sleeper that the baby had been wearing.
Sara came over with a bag and held it open for Catherine to drop the clothes into. "You know, he is kinda cute," she touched the baby's hand that held the bottle in a death grip. "You really found him the closet?" At Catherine's nod, she frowned and stated, "I don't think I'll ever understand the things people do to innocent children."
"Maybe she was trying to protect him," Catherine ventured.
"Sara, I need you over here," Gil interrupted them. The two turned to him and watched as Nick pulled a bloody baseball bat out from under the bed. Catherine turned away quickly, she didn't want the baby to see the murder weapon, even if he was too young to understand. She saw a woman walking up the stairs and went to meet her. "CPS?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm Em Gonzales. This must be the child."
"Yes," Catherine answered as she handed the baby over. "I gave him a bottle of formula. I have no idea of how long he'd been in that place. He seemed really hungry. I also changed his diaper and clothes; we'll be keeping the sleeper and blanket for evidence. Do you need a change of clothes for him?" At the woman's nod, she led her to the nursery, keeping between her and the open doorway to the bedroom. She helped the woman get a change of clothes and put it in the diaper bag hanging on the doorknob of the closet.
"Do we know if he has any relatives that might be able to take him?"
"We haven't done any checking. You can get any further information from the officer on scene," Catherine walked with the woman to the stairs. The baby seemed to realize that Catherine wasn't going with him and started crying, holding his arms out to her. Em kept walking down the stairs and the baby's wails increased to an earsplitting shriek. Catherine's heart broke and she moved to take the infant, but was stopped by a restraining hand on her arm. She looked up and Grissom shook his head at her. She read the censure in his eyes and even though deep down she knew he was right, she was suddenly angry. The baby had just lost his mother and was frightened and wanted to be with someone he felt safe with. He had apparently decided Catherine was that person. Wrenching her arm from his grasp, she whirled around and headed back to the bedroom.
Grissom's voice stopped her before she got three steps away. "I need your shirt, it's evidence," he said softly.
She nodded stiffly and continued to the room. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she attempted to make her voice normal. "Sara, do you have a tank top under that shirt?"
"Yeah," Sara looked over at Catherine. She took in her stiff posture and the look on her face. 'Oh shit, this is gonna be a bad night,' she thought to herself.
"Can I borrow your shirt? Mine is evidence."
"Ah, yeah sure," Sara walked over to her and took off her blue button-down shirt. "Here you go." She wanted to say something of comfort to Catherine, by recognized the unreceptive look on Catherine's face. She turned back to processing, sharing a sympathetic glance with Nick.
Stepping into the doorway of the nearest bathroom, she let her head fall back and took a deep shuddering breath. Fumbling with the buttons of her own shirt, she felt the tears threaten again. 'Stop it right now!' she scolded herself. 'You will not lose it here. You will NOT cry.' One lone tear made it's way down her cheek. Fighting for control, she bit the inside of her cheek until it bled. 'God, why is this so hard? I've never been this way at a scene before.' She took a few more deep calming breaths. Feeling a bit more in control, she finished changing. She bagged her shirt and ran into Grissom on her way out of the bathroom. "Here," she snapped, thrusting the bag at him and pushing past him.
"Catherine!" Gil's voice stopped her once again. "I want you back at the lab. Now. Nick and Sara can finish up here."
"Why?" Now Catherine was livid. She didn't know exactly why, but she was spoiling for a fight. As much as she hated fighting with Grissom, he was the one whose buttons she was ready and totally willing to push at this moment.
"Because you need space. You need to clear your head. You're losing control, you're too emotional about this."
That did it, Catherine's head snapped up and she took a step forward, her face in Grissom's. She opened her mouth to offer a scathing retort, but Nick's voice stopped her.
"Let me help you with that, Sara," Nick said loudly, in an obvious attempt to stop Catherine from saying or doing something she would regret later. Namely taking a swing at the boss. He could see her clenched fists and flushed face and knew someone had to do something quick.
Confused, Sara just gaped at him. At his quick nod towards Catherine and Grissom, she stammered, "Uh, yeah sure. This IS kinda awkward." She held the bat out to him to bag.
Nick and Sara's voices filtered through her anger and realizing this wasn't the best place to finish this argument, Catherine took a step back and fished in her pocket for the keys. "Bring my stuff back with you," she spat at Gil.
"Finish up here, you guys," Gil looked at them. "I'm not letting her drive like this. She'll kill either herself or someone else." He hurried after Catherine.
Nick and Sara stared at each other for a moment. The air came rushing out of Nick's lungs in a whoosh. "Wow! That was close. Did you see the look on her face? That was about to get very ugly."
Sara looked toward the door for a moment, then back at Nick. "Yeah, but I sure would like to be a fly in THAT car."
Nick shuddered. "Not me. That's something I don't need to get in the middle of. No, I'm just gonna keep my head down 'til this blows over. It's safer that way."
Outside, Gil caught up with Catherine just as she was unlocking the driver's side door. "Catherine, wait a minute."
"Go away Grissom. I'm going back to the lab, that's what you wanted. Now leave me alone." Catherine knew she was being irrational, but for reasons she didn't want to think about, she couldn't stop herself.
"Just let me drive. Please? You'll end up in an accident. I know the way you drive when you're mad." To Grissom, it sounded completely rational, but apparently not to her. She threw the keys at him, hitting him squarely in the chest before going around to the passenger side, getting in and slamming the door.
"That's gonna leave a mark," Gil mumbled as he picked up the keys and got in the Tahoe. He drove for a few minutes in silence, and then ventured. "Catherine, talk to me. What is going on with you?"
"Nothing," came her terse reply.
"Don't tell me 'nothing'. Something obviously is. You've never acted like this before at a scene. You were emotional and completely unprofessional." Gil's voice was rising in frustration. "Not too mention."
"Drop it Grissom! I'm warning you. Nothing is wrong!" Catherine crossed her arms on her chest and stared out the side window.
Unwisely Gil tried again. "Cath, I know how you feel. But you can't let it cloud your perspective. This is your job. You have to distance yourself from it."
"God dammit Gil! I said drop it! You don't know I feel. You can't know! You don't feel!" Catherine shouted at him. "Pull over." When he didn't respond, she yelled again. "God dammit, pull the fucking car over or I'll jump out!" She fumbled with her seat belt, trying to unhook it.
Gil jerked the steering wheel to the right and skidded to a stop in the gravel. "Jesus Catherine! I'm sick of this! I will not tolerate." His voice stopped as Catherine jumped out of the truck and ran to the side of the road. "Shit!" he cursed jumping out after her.
Catherine was bent over vomiting into the ditch. There was nothing in her stomach; she hadn't eaten all day, but she couldn't stop her stomach from heaving. She kept seeing that baby in the closet. Gil went back to the Tahoe and retrieved a bottle of water. Walking up behind her, he waited until she was done. He handed her the bottle of water and some tissues. He stood there for a few moments, waiting until she would turn around and face him. Finally, she turned to him, her gaze meeting his, then skittering away.
"Thanks," her voice sounded small, weak. Her arms were crossed around her middle and she was shivering.
Gil took a deep breath and said softly, "I do feel. I feel every time we go to a scene. I just don't show it. I can't, Cath. Please don't ask me to."
Catherine looked into his eyes for a long moment, reading the emotion in them that he couldn't express verbally. She'd never seen that depth to him before and it touched something within her. She nodded and said gently, "I know, Gil. I know you do." She looked away for a moment, and then continued, her voice trembling. "It's just.I don't know why I." her voice trailed off and she looked up at the night sky, the tears making their way down her cheeks. "I just."
"Let it go, Cath. Just let it go." Gil stepped over to her and put one arm around her waist. "Just let it go. It's ok."
Catherine turned to him and let the tears fall. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his neck and let the tears flow. She didn't know what she was crying about. It was nothing, yet everything. She cried for the baby they'd found, for his mother who was lying in her bedroom with her brains bashed in. She cried for Lindsey, for her broken marriage, for the people she worked with. She cried for all the people she'd seen in her career. Catherine Willows finally let it go and cried.
And Gil held her. He stroked her back and her hair. He held her as her sobs increased, her shoulders shaking, her breath coming in gasps. He held her and tried to comfort her in the way his mother had when he was a very small child, whispering nonsensical words into her ear. Soothing her, as she would have had it been Lindsey crying. Gil Grissom just held her.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, but yet no time at all, Catherine's sobs decreased to only an occasional hiccup. Then nothing at all; nothing but the sound of their breathing and the night sounds around them. Catherine lifted her head from his neck and looked at him. He smiled tenderly and handed her some tissues.
"Here, blow your nose."
Catherine chuckled, a watery sound and did as she was told. She took his hand in hers and said softly, "Thank you, Gil."
"You feel better?" he asked. At her nod, he continued. "Then we need to get back to the lab." He led her over to the Tahoe. He paused a moment and looked up at the night sky, with the stars shining brightly. "It's a beautiful night."
Catherine followed his gaze, and then looked back at him. "Yes, it is," she agreed, sighing.
They stood there for another few minutes, watching the sky in silence. Neither one of them noticed they were still holding each other's hands.
To be continued.
AN: First off, Congrats to Marg for her Golden Globe Nomination.
Secondly to Angie and Em for beta-ing this and to Rita for the title.
Thank you for all the encouragement you've given me. This is the
first fic I actually wrote and am finally posting the first part of
many. Feedback greatly appreciated. You guys ROCK!!!
Part 1/?
Catherine stepped out of the Tahoe and looked up at the night sky before opening the back door to get her kit. 'It's a beautiful night,' she thought, sighing softly, gazing at the stars that blanketed the inky sky. She turned and walked over to the officer talking with Grissom.
"Body's in there," he gestured towards the house. "Second floor, first door to your right. No sign of the baby though."
Catherine nodded to him and stepped through the entryway. She looked around for a moment, then headed upstairs.
The bloody body lying in the bathroom doorway was the first thing she noticed. Taking in the appearance of the room, she walked gingerly around the debris that littered the floor. "Looks like there was quite a struggle in here," she muttered to the room, softly. She set her case down and donned a pair of latex gloves and proceeded to take pictures of the body and surrounding area.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She may have been pretty, but with the gaping hole in the side of her head, it was difficult to tell. The blood that had pooled under her head had congealed into a black, sticky mess that matted her long black hair and covered what was left of her face and upper chest. Pieces of brain matter were stuck to her skull and hair, making her look like some grotesque character in a horror movie.
Catherine sighed; she hated scenes like this. She hated all scenes, especially the children, but this kind of violence really stayed with her, making her wake up in a cold sweat, shivering and frightened. It was crimes like this that make her wonder about her career choice and her sanity.
"Why do we do this, Gil? Why?" she asked aloud.
"I've asked myself that many times, Cath." Grissom's voice came from behind her. "How'd you know I was here?"
Turning to glance at him, she said, "You smell."
"Excuse me?" Gil was indignant.
"The soap you use, I can smell it." She turned back to the body. "Somebody sure hated her. To do this to her," she gestured to the body.
"Crime of pass. . ." Gil trailed off as Catherine cocked her head to the right, listening for something.
"Shhhh," she said suddenly. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Catherine held up one hand. "There it is again. Do you hear it? It sounds like a baby crying." Catherine's voice rose an octave.
Gil listened carefully for a moment, "Cath, I don't hear anything."
"Where's the baby? They said the baby wasn't here. Then where is it?" The hair on Catherine's neck rose. "Go check in the other room, it's coming from over there," she said gesturing to her left.
"Catherine, are you sure you're not hearing things? They've searched the house and didn't find it. The baby could be with a sitter or kidnapped." Gil was trying to be logical, but the look on Catherine's face stopped him from saying more. "I'm not imagining it! And a sitter would have called already. Go look." She stood and moved slowly around in a circle, trying to determine what she was hearing and where it was coming from. "Please?" she added unnecessarily, as Gil was already on his way.
Catherine heard the cry again and walked over to the closet. She knew she heard a baby cry. There, again, a little louder. She opened the closet door and looked around. The crying was getting louder, and Catherine felt the unexpected answering well of tears in her own eyes. 'I know I'm not imagining it,' she thought as she started taking things out of the closet, searching for the source. It was louder now, and she paused to get her bearings before shoving more things out of the way.
"Cath, there was nothing there," Gil came to a halt when he saw her digging through the closet. He was getting worried, he still didn't hear anything and was getting frustrated. "Maybe it's the wind blowing through the trees," he offered.
Catherine was frantic now, she knew she heard a baby crying. "No, it's not the damned wind, Grissom." Her eye caught an oddity in the paneling on back wall of the closet. It looked like it had been haphazardly wedged into place. Curious, she rapped her knuckle across it. "I think there is a space back here, Gris." She wedged her finger under the bottom of one panel and pulled. "Dammit! Help me Gil!" She could feel herself starting to panic. Gil stepped into the closet and she moved to make him room. They pulled on the board together and it came loose.
Silence. There was a small space back there, as if someone had walled off a room when they remodeled the closet. "Flashlight," she snapped, dropping to her knees.
Gil quickly retrieved a flashlight from her case and handed it to her, squatting behind her to try and get a look.
Catherine leaned forward and shined the flashlight around the space. There in the back corner was a sight that she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life. A baby, maybe 9 months old, clutching a tattered blanket was huddled in the corner, the blue sleeper it was wearing covered in dirt. The baby appeared to be unharmed. An empty bottle was on the floor next to it. "Dear God," she breathed out, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Taking a deep breath and praying for calm, she said softly, "Hey honey. It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you." She reached for the baby, but it shrunk from her and started to cry in earnest. So focused on the baby she didn't hear Grissom's muttered exclamation of "Oh my God!"
Catherine lay on her stomach, wedged herself into the small opening, reaching out for the baby. "Come out, honey, it's alright. We won't hurt you." She scooted further into the opening, and gently grasped the baby's blanket, pulling it closer to her. "Come on sweetie, it's gonna be ok." Setting the flashlight on the floor, she stretched both arms out to the baby, finally being able to wrap her hands around its waist. "Pull us out, Gil," she said while she pulled the baby closer and laid him down, covering its head with her own. The baby was still crying, but allowed her to cuddle him close. She was unaware of her tears falling onto the baby's head. When she was completely out of the space, she sat up and cradled the baby to her body.
"It's ok, honey," she crooned, swaying back and forth. "Let me look at you. Are you hurt? I bet you're hungry." She inspected the baby and didn't find any obvious signs of injuries. She laid her cheek to the baby's head and looked at Grissom, surprised to see his own eyes were watery. "It's ok, I promise, it'll be ok," she kept repeating over and over, trying to suppress the sob that rose in the back of her throat.
Gil stood and laid his hand on Catherine's head. "Cath, they've got to call Children's Protective Services." He looked down at her and realized that she hadn't heard him. She just kept rocking the baby and whispering to it. Sighing he stepped out into the hallway and called to an officer. "We found a baby, call CPS, now." After receiving an affirmative nod, Gil walked back into the bedroom. He stood there for a moment, watching Catherine. The baby had stopped crying and was sucking its fist, seemingly content at the moment. Going over, he knelt down and tenderly ran a hand through her hair. "Let's get this baby downstairs." She just looked at him without saying anything. She didn't need to; he could read the pain and horror in her eyes.
At that moment, Sara Sidle and Nick Stokes walked in. Sensing the strain in the room, Nick asked cautiously, "What's going on?"
Without sparing them a glance, Gil answered delicately, "Catherine found a baby boarded up in the closet. Cath?" When she didn't answer, he tried again. "Catherine, we need to get the baby downstairs. Come on, honey, let's go." He was unaware of the endearment, but the shocked looks on Sara and Nick's faces revealed that they did. Gil took Catherine gently by the elbow and guided her to her feet, leading her past Sara and Nick and out of the room.
Catherine's eyes caught Sara's for a moment and Sara was surprised at the look of sorrow on her face. Cath always took the scenes with children the hardest, even harder than she did. How the older woman did this and took care of a young daughter, she never knew. Sara knew herself well enough to know that she couldn't handle the load that Catherine did with the grace that she handled it with.
As they reached to top of the stairs, Catherine seemed to come out of her trance. "I bet he's hungry," she told Gil. "I'm going to go and see if there is anything for him to eat before CPS gets here. He shouldn't have to wait."
Gil sighed in relief; Catherine was back, mothering everyone she came across. "I'll go with you. You get into trouble without me," he teased her.
"I'd tell you to shut up, but I have to watch my language around the baby," she retorted.
Gil chuckled at her; he'd been worried about her for a few minutes. He knew she took cases involving children personally, but he had never seen that look in her eyes before.
They entered the kitchen and Catherine turned to Gil, thrusting the baby at him. "Here, hold him while I get him something to eat."
"Wait a minute! I'm not holding him. I don't hold babies." He backed away a step, noting with alarm that she followed him.
Suppressing a giggle at the panicked look on his face, she said, "You held Lindsey. Take him or do you want to feed him? Your choice." She smiled at him disarmingly, "Please?"
Groaning, Gil knew she had him beat; he never could refuse her anything she asked for when she flashed that smile at him. Awkwardly, he held the baby, its back to him one arm supporting the diaper-clad bottom and the other across its chest. "Lindsey was different," he grumbled.
Going through the cabinets, Catherine found some jarred baby food and powdered formula. Figuring it was easier to give him a bottle than to try and take the time to feed him solid food, she searched for a bottle. Her experience with Lindsey told her that feeding a baby was not a quick affair. She paused for a moment, looking around the kitchen. "Eureka!" she said as she found an assortment of bottles and parts in the dishwasher. Looking to Gil, who had been watching her intently, she asked, "Why was Lindsey different? They're all just babies." She filled the bottle up with tap water, waiting until it had reached the right temperature.
"Well," he stammered uncharacteristically. "She didn't smell for one thing," he wrinkled his nose as the odor emanating from the baby hit is olfactory nerve. "She wasn't hungry, and . . .and she just was," he finished lamely.
Catherine smiled at him knowingly, shaking the bottle to mix the formula and walked toward him. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, surprising him. She popped the bottle in the baby's open mouth. "That was because you always caught her right after I fed her and changed her. Come on Gris, you can change his diaper." She walked up the stairs, leaving him alone with the baby.
"Catherine!" he wailed as he followed her up the stairs. He caught up with her at the top of the steps and followed her down the hall to the room that was obviously the baby's. "I am NOT changing this kid," he stated emphatically. Nick poked his head out of the room and grinned at the two of them.
"Why not Gris, you've got gloves on," she teased him, clearing enjoying this, but changed her mind quickly at his pointed look. "Oh for the love of God, Gris, I was just teasing," she said, reaching for the baby. "I've got this under control, why don't you go process something or whatever it is you do." She disappeared into the nursery.
Minutes later, she was back. She'd changed the baby's clothes as well and cleaned him up a bit. "I need an evidence bag for this," she said, holding out the sleeper that the baby had been wearing.
Sara came over with a bag and held it open for Catherine to drop the clothes into. "You know, he is kinda cute," she touched the baby's hand that held the bottle in a death grip. "You really found him the closet?" At Catherine's nod, she frowned and stated, "I don't think I'll ever understand the things people do to innocent children."
"Maybe she was trying to protect him," Catherine ventured.
"Sara, I need you over here," Gil interrupted them. The two turned to him and watched as Nick pulled a bloody baseball bat out from under the bed. Catherine turned away quickly, she didn't want the baby to see the murder weapon, even if he was too young to understand. She saw a woman walking up the stairs and went to meet her. "CPS?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm Em Gonzales. This must be the child."
"Yes," Catherine answered as she handed the baby over. "I gave him a bottle of formula. I have no idea of how long he'd been in that place. He seemed really hungry. I also changed his diaper and clothes; we'll be keeping the sleeper and blanket for evidence. Do you need a change of clothes for him?" At the woman's nod, she led her to the nursery, keeping between her and the open doorway to the bedroom. She helped the woman get a change of clothes and put it in the diaper bag hanging on the doorknob of the closet.
"Do we know if he has any relatives that might be able to take him?"
"We haven't done any checking. You can get any further information from the officer on scene," Catherine walked with the woman to the stairs. The baby seemed to realize that Catherine wasn't going with him and started crying, holding his arms out to her. Em kept walking down the stairs and the baby's wails increased to an earsplitting shriek. Catherine's heart broke and she moved to take the infant, but was stopped by a restraining hand on her arm. She looked up and Grissom shook his head at her. She read the censure in his eyes and even though deep down she knew he was right, she was suddenly angry. The baby had just lost his mother and was frightened and wanted to be with someone he felt safe with. He had apparently decided Catherine was that person. Wrenching her arm from his grasp, she whirled around and headed back to the bedroom.
Grissom's voice stopped her before she got three steps away. "I need your shirt, it's evidence," he said softly.
She nodded stiffly and continued to the room. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she attempted to make her voice normal. "Sara, do you have a tank top under that shirt?"
"Yeah," Sara looked over at Catherine. She took in her stiff posture and the look on her face. 'Oh shit, this is gonna be a bad night,' she thought to herself.
"Can I borrow your shirt? Mine is evidence."
"Ah, yeah sure," Sara walked over to her and took off her blue button-down shirt. "Here you go." She wanted to say something of comfort to Catherine, by recognized the unreceptive look on Catherine's face. She turned back to processing, sharing a sympathetic glance with Nick.
Stepping into the doorway of the nearest bathroom, she let her head fall back and took a deep shuddering breath. Fumbling with the buttons of her own shirt, she felt the tears threaten again. 'Stop it right now!' she scolded herself. 'You will not lose it here. You will NOT cry.' One lone tear made it's way down her cheek. Fighting for control, she bit the inside of her cheek until it bled. 'God, why is this so hard? I've never been this way at a scene before.' She took a few more deep calming breaths. Feeling a bit more in control, she finished changing. She bagged her shirt and ran into Grissom on her way out of the bathroom. "Here," she snapped, thrusting the bag at him and pushing past him.
"Catherine!" Gil's voice stopped her once again. "I want you back at the lab. Now. Nick and Sara can finish up here."
"Why?" Now Catherine was livid. She didn't know exactly why, but she was spoiling for a fight. As much as she hated fighting with Grissom, he was the one whose buttons she was ready and totally willing to push at this moment.
"Because you need space. You need to clear your head. You're losing control, you're too emotional about this."
That did it, Catherine's head snapped up and she took a step forward, her face in Grissom's. She opened her mouth to offer a scathing retort, but Nick's voice stopped her.
"Let me help you with that, Sara," Nick said loudly, in an obvious attempt to stop Catherine from saying or doing something she would regret later. Namely taking a swing at the boss. He could see her clenched fists and flushed face and knew someone had to do something quick.
Confused, Sara just gaped at him. At his quick nod towards Catherine and Grissom, she stammered, "Uh, yeah sure. This IS kinda awkward." She held the bat out to him to bag.
Nick and Sara's voices filtered through her anger and realizing this wasn't the best place to finish this argument, Catherine took a step back and fished in her pocket for the keys. "Bring my stuff back with you," she spat at Gil.
"Finish up here, you guys," Gil looked at them. "I'm not letting her drive like this. She'll kill either herself or someone else." He hurried after Catherine.
Nick and Sara stared at each other for a moment. The air came rushing out of Nick's lungs in a whoosh. "Wow! That was close. Did you see the look on her face? That was about to get very ugly."
Sara looked toward the door for a moment, then back at Nick. "Yeah, but I sure would like to be a fly in THAT car."
Nick shuddered. "Not me. That's something I don't need to get in the middle of. No, I'm just gonna keep my head down 'til this blows over. It's safer that way."
Outside, Gil caught up with Catherine just as she was unlocking the driver's side door. "Catherine, wait a minute."
"Go away Grissom. I'm going back to the lab, that's what you wanted. Now leave me alone." Catherine knew she was being irrational, but for reasons she didn't want to think about, she couldn't stop herself.
"Just let me drive. Please? You'll end up in an accident. I know the way you drive when you're mad." To Grissom, it sounded completely rational, but apparently not to her. She threw the keys at him, hitting him squarely in the chest before going around to the passenger side, getting in and slamming the door.
"That's gonna leave a mark," Gil mumbled as he picked up the keys and got in the Tahoe. He drove for a few minutes in silence, and then ventured. "Catherine, talk to me. What is going on with you?"
"Nothing," came her terse reply.
"Don't tell me 'nothing'. Something obviously is. You've never acted like this before at a scene. You were emotional and completely unprofessional." Gil's voice was rising in frustration. "Not too mention."
"Drop it Grissom! I'm warning you. Nothing is wrong!" Catherine crossed her arms on her chest and stared out the side window.
Unwisely Gil tried again. "Cath, I know how you feel. But you can't let it cloud your perspective. This is your job. You have to distance yourself from it."
"God dammit Gil! I said drop it! You don't know I feel. You can't know! You don't feel!" Catherine shouted at him. "Pull over." When he didn't respond, she yelled again. "God dammit, pull the fucking car over or I'll jump out!" She fumbled with her seat belt, trying to unhook it.
Gil jerked the steering wheel to the right and skidded to a stop in the gravel. "Jesus Catherine! I'm sick of this! I will not tolerate." His voice stopped as Catherine jumped out of the truck and ran to the side of the road. "Shit!" he cursed jumping out after her.
Catherine was bent over vomiting into the ditch. There was nothing in her stomach; she hadn't eaten all day, but she couldn't stop her stomach from heaving. She kept seeing that baby in the closet. Gil went back to the Tahoe and retrieved a bottle of water. Walking up behind her, he waited until she was done. He handed her the bottle of water and some tissues. He stood there for a few moments, waiting until she would turn around and face him. Finally, she turned to him, her gaze meeting his, then skittering away.
"Thanks," her voice sounded small, weak. Her arms were crossed around her middle and she was shivering.
Gil took a deep breath and said softly, "I do feel. I feel every time we go to a scene. I just don't show it. I can't, Cath. Please don't ask me to."
Catherine looked into his eyes for a long moment, reading the emotion in them that he couldn't express verbally. She'd never seen that depth to him before and it touched something within her. She nodded and said gently, "I know, Gil. I know you do." She looked away for a moment, and then continued, her voice trembling. "It's just.I don't know why I." her voice trailed off and she looked up at the night sky, the tears making their way down her cheeks. "I just."
"Let it go, Cath. Just let it go." Gil stepped over to her and put one arm around her waist. "Just let it go. It's ok."
Catherine turned to him and let the tears fall. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his neck and let the tears flow. She didn't know what she was crying about. It was nothing, yet everything. She cried for the baby they'd found, for his mother who was lying in her bedroom with her brains bashed in. She cried for Lindsey, for her broken marriage, for the people she worked with. She cried for all the people she'd seen in her career. Catherine Willows finally let it go and cried.
And Gil held her. He stroked her back and her hair. He held her as her sobs increased, her shoulders shaking, her breath coming in gasps. He held her and tried to comfort her in the way his mother had when he was a very small child, whispering nonsensical words into her ear. Soothing her, as she would have had it been Lindsey crying. Gil Grissom just held her.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, but yet no time at all, Catherine's sobs decreased to only an occasional hiccup. Then nothing at all; nothing but the sound of their breathing and the night sounds around them. Catherine lifted her head from his neck and looked at him. He smiled tenderly and handed her some tissues.
"Here, blow your nose."
Catherine chuckled, a watery sound and did as she was told. She took his hand in hers and said softly, "Thank you, Gil."
"You feel better?" he asked. At her nod, he continued. "Then we need to get back to the lab." He led her over to the Tahoe. He paused a moment and looked up at the night sky, with the stars shining brightly. "It's a beautiful night."
Catherine followed his gaze, and then looked back at him. "Yes, it is," she agreed, sighing.
They stood there for another few minutes, watching the sky in silence. Neither one of them noticed they were still holding each other's hands.
To be continued.