A/N: Hey! How's things? :)

Ok, so I only have another four days until the end of exams (YAY!) but for the first time, I've actually managed to write a few chapters ahead, so after exams I'll be able to update a bit more regularly :) This chapter's a little bit shorter than some of the others, but hopefully it's not worse for it. I know that it may be a bit slow for a little while, but I promise it will pick up a bit soon lol ;)Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. End of. Finished. Never going to change. Let me know what you think! Suggestions/ideas/whatever else you may have, drop me a review or a PM :)

Love lots!xoloveJBox


Chapter Three.

Nick woke up a few hours later, still tired and grumpy, but now he had a definite goal to work to. He had a fleeting shower and jumped in a cab. If he had known how close the hotel was to Shannon's apartment building he would have walked, because he arrived in just under ten minutes. He let himself into the building and located the right floor, knocking on the door when he reached the apartment Shannon had instructed him to. While he waited, Nick looked around, seeing the stained, paint-chipped walls, and the dirty concrete floor. He saw hooks in the walls where he guessed pictures had once hung to brighten the place up, but they were gone now, and the wall around the fixing was crumbling. Nick crinkled his nose slightly at an unidentifiable mixture of smells that he would rather not know what made it up.

Under the door, Nick saw the shadows of feet, and the door opened a sliver. It was held closed on a chain, and through the gap, Nick could see a figure looking at him.

"Hello?" the figure asked cautiously. Nick could tell that it was a girl, and he was pretty sure that it was Shannon.

"Miss Rhodes, its Nick Stokes." He replied quietly. He suspected that there was a reason she wanted to catch Molly by surprise, so he didn't want to jeopardise that. The door closed again, and Nick heard the chain slide across and dangle against the door before it opened again.

Shannon's age was the first thing Nick noticed. Shannon looked to be about twenty two or twenty three. She was average height with broad shoulders. Her hair was blonde and heavily layered, sticking up all over her head. Her eyes were light hazel, and they seemed almost relieved to see him there.

"I'm really glad you're here Mr Stokes." She breathed, moving over and motioning him inside.

"Please, call me Nick." He replied "Where is she?"

"In the kitchen." Shannon led him down a hallway into the main living area, walking past a bedroom and bathroom.

"Molly," Shannon called softly "There's someone here for you."

Nick watched as his niece popped her head around the door, and he saw her eyes widen slightly when she saw him.

"Uncle Nick? What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice a hoarse croak that he wouldn't have recognised if she wasn't standing in front of him.

Nick tried to speak, but no sounds escaped. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. Pretty much the whole of Molly's face was a violent purple- almost black. Her lip was swollen, and there was a gash on her nose between her eyes. The clothes she wore were too big- presumably Shannon's- and they hung loosely from her slender form.

"Molly," he whispered sadly.

Molly was certain that what she heard in her Uncle's voice was disappointment, and she looked down to the floor. Overwhelmed with sadness all of a sudden, she burst into tears, and a second later, she felt her Uncle's strong arms around her. His grip hurt, as he was completely unaware of what Molly suspected were cracked ribs, but she didn't mind. She felt safe with Nick and as she cried, she tried to ignore all the hurt she felt. As she sobbed into his chest, whimpering out little apologies, he cooed soft assurances into the top of her head, sealing them with kisses.

When Molly couldn't cry anymore, she simply stood shaking, as close to Nick as she could get, and he led her over to the couch. Shannon remained in the doorway, completely silent, not exactly knowing what to do. When Molly lowered herself painfully onto the couch, she looked down and murmured into her chest.

"It was my fault." The sound was so quiet, Nick almost missed it.

"What was?" he asked, confused.

"I put the teabags in the wrong place, and I answered back. It was my fault." She explained.

"What? I-" Shannon exclaimed angrily, making them both jump, before Nick had chance to reply. Shannon looked like she was about to say something else, but she bit her tongue and stormed to the front door, slamming it behind herself.

"Molly Jayne, you listen to me," Nick said sternly, struggling to hold back his own reaction. "What your mother did was wrong. She shouldn't have done it, and it most definitely is not your fault. Do you understand me?"

When Molly didn't answer, he repeated "Do you understand me?"

Finally, Molly nodded, but Nick wasn't too convinced. However, he wasn't expecting miracles. He knew that, if Molly had been punished like that for at least four hours, maybe longer, it was going to take more than a firm word from him to change that.

"I'm going to ask you some questions now." he said "Do you promise to tell me the truth, no matter what the answer is?"
Molly nodded straight away. There was no question about it: she would never lie to her Uncle Nicky.

"Does your mother do this a lot?"

Molly nodded slowly, feeling uneasy.

"How often?"

"Two or three times a week. At least." Molly whispered.

"Has it ever been as bad as this before?" Nick asked, though he knew the answer.

"No."

Molly had promised to tell the truth, but she couldn't look at Nick while she did it. She was too ashamed by her answers.

"Molly, why didn't you tell anyone?" Nick asked, desperately trying to understand his niece's thought processes.

"You're the only one Mom lets me talk to." Molly replied.

"I talk to you so many times a week. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared Uncle Nicky," Molly whimpered, her eyes welling up again. "I didn't know what to do."

Listening to Molly attempt to hold herself together, Nick was pretty sure he could hear his heart shattering into tiny pieces.

As he looked at his young niece, seeing her battered, tear streaked face and hunched over form, he couldn't help but picture the happy-go-lucky little six year old she had once been. It seemed like an entire lifetime ago, and if he hadn't known better, Nick would never have said that the two girls were the same. This older, exceedingly unhappy child had taken over the little girl he had known; the one who would have grown up to be the extremely intelligent woman who would have done anything with her life. Nick knew that, even if it was the last thing he did, he was going to find her again and put her back on the track she had always been intended for.