Yay! Finally something that isn't GSR, Snickers or anything else! Written with the help of my lovely Penguin, Becky. (Celtic–Dreamscape–94). We're taking it in turns. R&R please ~ Erin.

Catherine Willows left the crime lab at half six in the afternoon, the sun already beginning to sink, casting red light over the city that never sleeps, Las Vegas, Nevada. She drove the normal way home, down the strip and into the suburbs. The traffic was heavy, and with the heat of the day, tedious. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel frustratedly, the open windows of the car letting in no relief, just a warm, sticky breeze. She pulled the neck of her top out a little, hoping to cool down a little, only succeeding in making her top stick to her sweaty skin. Living in Las Vegas was the dream, but in reality it was just like any other American city. Las Vegas was no place for a kid, and yet so many people lived there, so many couples, so many people Catherine never wanted to meet. The sun was little more than a blood red sliver when Catherine pulled up outside her house.

--

The lack of light alerted Catherine to the fact that something was wrong. Her mother was out of town, but Lindsay was coming home from university. She should be back by now. The feeling of unease deepened in Catherine's gut, her brain jumping forwards, producing an adrenaline rush. The front door was open a crack.

'Shit.' She reached for her phone, dialling Grissom's number from memory. 'Grissom? It's Catherine.' She said as the phone went straight to answer phone. 'Please come to my address, someone's broken into my house. I'm going to find out if anything else has happened.' She folded her phone down and fished in her pocket for a pair of latex gloves. She pulled them on with trembling fingers and cautiously nudged the door open…

--

'Catherine? Catherine please phone me back when you get this message, it's important.' Grissom pressed the end call button. 'Straight to answer machine.' He told his team. Nick raised his head.

'Try her home phone?' Grissom shook his head sadly.

'Couldn't connect me. Something is terribly wrong. Sara and Greg, with me. We're going to Catherine's house. Leaving now.' Sara grabbed her kit and hurried out of the door, with Greg close behind her. Grissom checked his phone one last time, then grabbed the keys for his SUV and followed them out into the evening light.

--

'Lindsay? Lindsay are you here?' Silence greeted her. She felt a chill roll down her spine. 'Lindsay? Don't play games.' An ominous silence. Catherine half expected to see Lindsay hanging over the banister, trying to control her laughter watching her mother make a big deal over nothing. She walked into the kitchen, making her way by torchlight, afraid of what she'd find. The kitchen was clear. She let out a long, shaky breath. She felt a sudden need to run away from her house, from Nevada. She held her breath for a second and she heard it. The faintest cry from above her head.

'Lindsay?' She ran up the stairs, dropping her torch as she scrambled up, grazing her arm. She paused at the top, willing the sound to come again. She heard it. She ran into her room, blind. Her feet felt sticky. She looked down and saw a small pool of blood. She gasped, like being stabbed in the heart. She flicked the light switch, fingers numb. Lindsay was lying on Catherine's bed, a cut across her neck, blood dribbling from it in a steady flow.

'LINDSAY!' Catherine ran to her daughter's side, tears dripping off of her cheeks. 'Oh God Lindsay!' Lindsay tried to open her mouth to say something, but blood bubbled out instead of words. She managed one word.

'Mom…' Catherine clung to her daughter as she watched her life drain away, the blood that had once pumped through her veins staining the plain white covers on the bed.

'Lindsay.' Lindsay mouthed one more word, before her eyes stared past Catherine to something she could not see. Catherine placed her hand on Lindsay's forehead, leaving a bloody palm print. Tears dripped freely down her cheeks.

'Lindsay… oh Lindsay.' She whispered, repeating it over and over until the words lost their meaning. The world had lost it's meaning. There was nothing left for her anymore. She closed her eyes and held onto Lindsay, uncaring about the rivulets of blood that ran between her closed fingers. In fact, she cared about nothing anymore.

TBC…

By Becky