A/N: I lied. This chapter really isn't much longer than the other one, but, hopefully, they will gradually get larger.
I sat there is shocked silence. I was completely dead to the world, my entire body feeling like ice. My heart was numb. I couldn't move, I couldn't breath. There was a roaring sound in my ears, like when you put your ear up to a shell and listen to the echo of the ocean, but magnified by a 100. Distantly, I thought I could hear a rapid beeping sound. It felt like I was falling into a dark, endless well. Suddenly, it all went black.
My eyes flickered open. I had a nauseating headache, and my arms throbbed with red-hot pain. My chest ached, and the only parts of my body that didn't seem to be hurt were my legs, which seemed oddly without sensation.
"Welcome back," said a calm, accented voice to my left. Startled, I snapped my head around to stare at the man sitting beside me. My crystalline blue eyes were met by a pair of soul-full brown ones.
The young man had a tanned complexion that went well with his dark, shiny locks. After a closer inspection, I discovered a fit, somewhat stocky body, and a set of perfect teeth.
The handsome man shone a bright half-smile, and I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. Before I could start worrying whether my hair was okay, or if I had food in my teeth, it all came back to be in a rush, almost like a physical blow to the stomach. Tears distorted my vision, and I could feel my shoulders droop.
Still, as I sat there, feverishly trying to block the sorrow, the man stared at me, a pitifully pained expression on his face.
"Kate." I felt a warm hand touch my mine. "Kate, I'm CSI Nick Stokes. I'm investigating your family's…um…"
"Murder," I supplied dryly, the word bubbling out of my throat before I could stop it.
"Yes." Even though this Nick man must have been used to dealing with victims, he still look uncomfortable.
"What are you doing to solve their murder, Mr. Stokes?" I asked coolly. If I just imagined that it was someone else's family I was talking about, it was much easy to distance myself from it.
"We are doing everything in our power to find out who did this. There is not much more I, or anyone else, can tell you," Nick responded, his voice luke-warm despite my icy disposition. "I came here to ask you if you can remember anything since our last visit."
Grimly, I set my mouth in a rigid line, willing myself not to break down.
If you break down into tears, I reasoned with myself, you won't be any help.
"Okay," I muttered encouragingly under my breath to myself, making Mr. Stokes give me a puzzled expression.
"Do you remember anything, anything at all?" Although this man was kind, he was rather impatient.
"Look, I can't remember anything. The last thing I can remember is working on homework after school in my bedroom. After that, well, it gets a little hazy." I spoke evenly, even though my heart was hammering and I was finding it difficult to keep my voice from breaking.
"Well, do you remember what time that was at?" Nick asked.
"5:53," I answered confidently, "I remember looking at my clock and wondering when we were going to eat dinner."
Nick pulled out a file and a pen, and jotted down a few words. As he did this, I shifted towards the edge of the bed. Nick's head snapped up.
"What are you doing?" he asked quickly, rising slightly out of his chair.
I paused. "Um, I'm going to the bathroom, do you mind?" I was about to slip out from under the sheet when I realized something was off.
Suddenly, I realized what it was. I couldn't move my legs. I glared accusingly at Nick.
"Why can't I move my legs?" I demanded hotly, trying and failing to slide off the bed.
To my complete surprise, Nick's eyes welled up with tears.
Pussy.
"Kate," Nick said in a low, sympathetic voice, and all of a sudden, I didn't want to know what he was going to say. "Kate, the reason you were brought into the hospital was because you had been shot in the back."
Gradually, it dawned on me. "Oh, please, God, no. Oh, please, oh please, no."
I was paralysed from in my legs.
Trying to prove that he was wrong, that it wasn't true, I wildly tried to stand up, and, a moment later, I was on the hard, unforgiving ground, racked with sobs of grief.
In a flash, Mr. Stokes was at my side, lifting me back into my bed. He sat beside me, quietly soothing me. Slowly but surely, the tears stopped, and I could feel myself slowly falling into an unsettled slumber, Mr. Stokes' warm hands cupping mine.
