DISCLAIMER: Not mine

Still kneeling, Gil continued to pat Maddy's back encouragingly as she told her story, "I was at home in the bedroom. I heard a noise, glass breaking. It was my front door. That's how…that's how access was gained. When I heard the glass break, I went down to look, but didn't get a chance. At the bottom of the stairs…a…a…I was picked up, over his shoulder and carried back to my bedroom. I kicked, fought…bit. He-when we got to my bedroom, he grabbed my hands and tied them together with…with duct tape. Dear God, why? Why me? First Steven, now him. I'm a nobody. I'm NOT even that good looking."

"I don't want to hear that. You are somebody. You are a beautiful young lady," Grissom thought about pulling back to look her in the eyes, but decided against it, fearing she would bolt. "You are beautiful. People love you. I love you. Maddy, Steven couldn't see what was in front of him. You are a beautiful, caring individual." Grissom held Maddy close.

Deep breaths were all Maddy could manage. Gil's knees were killing him. He maneuvered so he was now sitting down with his legs stretched out in front of him, Maddy on his lap, like a child. Catherine and Brass moved closer, sitting down as Maddy continued, "He tied my arms, taped them to the headboard. I was wearing my favorite pair of pajama pants…God, Dr. Grissom, he took that away from me, too. He took that."

Gil smiled faintly, "Maddy, girl, I'll buy you a new favorite pair of pants. He took a lot, but he didn't take you."

"After he got me down, he ripped my pants. Then he ripped my underwear off. He put his hand…he…his fingers…he put them in my…he wanted me wet. I didn't do anything," Maddy's buried her head further into Grissom's shoulder.

Reaching around Grissom touched Maddy's neck, drawing Jim's, Catherine's, AND Maddy's attention to a deep gash that was there, "He had a knife?"

Maddy reached up to her own neck, feeling the raw cuts, "Oh, God." She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, trying to relax. She opened her eyes and started to talk, almost as if reciting facts, "One hand, his right hand had a knife to my neck, his left hand was at his pants. He removed himself. He stuck his fingers in me, saying, 'This is what you wanted. This is what you get doing that to my boy.' Then he reached down and put himself in me. Something happened, a voice outside, something. He pulled out and must have disappeared. I don't know how long I was there. I was afraid to move, afraid he'd come back. Then a cop was in the doorway. I didn't ask Steven to do what he did. Why does Dr. Haste blame me?"

"Honey, you didn't deserve Steven's abuse. You were not responsible for his death. Dr. Haste has no right to blame you or hurt you. He's a sick man. We'll catch him so he doesn't hurt you or anyone else," Gil pulled back now, holding Maddy's shoulder with one hand, the other under her chin so he'd be able to hold her gaze.

Jim spoke up, "I think that'll do for now. We'll have our guys out there find him. Thank you, Madeline."

"What you did was really brave," Catherine leaned forward and put an arm around Maddy's shoulders.

Maddy looked up and smiled at the older woman through her tear stained face, "Do you – um – where's the restroom?"

"Come on, I could use a trip to the little girl's room, too," Catherine stood up and reached a hand to help Maddy up.

Once the ladies were gone, Jim turned to his friend, "Gil, what's going on?"

Gil looked down at his hands. He didn't answer, slowly getting up from the floor. He strolled over to the large mirror staring at his own reflection, "Jim, I never knew Maddy's age until she turned down a job I offered her in the lab at the coroner's office. She just smiled this crooked smile and said, 'You don't know how old I am, do you?' She was just thirteen, but she seemed like she was thirty. She was always so old, intellectually, but socially inept. When Steven Haste first asked her out, she dropped the stack of files she was holding. She was so happy at first, so happy. Running around smiling, nothing could get her down. Then, she started getting depressed. One day in the lab, there were several of us working. She was just watching. An intern spilled some acid on her. We all turned away so she could take her shirt off. Before I turned though, I saw it. I hadn't even realized she had been wearing long sleeves, even though it was warm out. The sleeves had covered the bruises on her wrists. Dammit! She didn't deserve what he did to her. I should have caught on before. I'm trained to look for these things and I didn't even notice. I didn't see it. If I had, it wouldn't have gone on for so long. They had been dating for something like six months." Tears streamed down Grissom's cheeks now.

Meeting Gil's eyes in the mirror, Jim watched his friend. Gil had never shared with him why he never communicated with his once close mentor, Dr. Jacob Haste. When asked, he always proclaimed, "It was my fault."

"Steven killed himself before he was brought to trail," Grissom shook his head. "It was-I could never talk to Jacob the same. Nature versus nurture. Why did Steven do it?"