Chapter 8

Only a week had passed, but it felt more like an unbearable month as Catherine parked her car into the lab parking lot. She was supposed to see a departmental therapist last week; however, the one assigned had been out ill with the flu. Walking quietly and turning into what was considered the lobby of the therapist unit, she wished for her therapist's illness to leash itself upon her. To maidenly invade her body so grossly that she would fall ill for a larger part of a month.

Catherine stared at the receptionist as she giggled into her ear piece as she whispered something back. "You are so bad; I can't talk about that now!" Another loud giggle was emitted as the receptionist hollered out loud. "Kevin!"

Rolling her eyes, Catherine tapped the counter top to get the other lady's attention. Looking up abruptly, the other woman mouthed 'I'm sorry," before she hung up the phone with Kevin. "I'm really sorry about that. What can I help you with?"

"I'm here to see Dr. Brymore. I have an appointment at 1pm."

"Catherine Willows?"

"Yes."

"Please take a seat, She will be with you in a moment," the receptionist offered as she smiled briefly before she picked up the phone. "Dr. Brymore… your one o'clock appointment is here."

Taking a seat, Catherine flipped through a magazine pretending to read but was actually too consumed with what was about to transpire to actually pay any attention to the small print. She could not help but wonder how painful this was going to be. She was going to be expected to talk about the situation involving her attack at the crime scene and most likely about the whole mess with McKean. Was she supposed to trust this woman enough to open up about any of this? She seriously doubted it. Life was never that easy or was it?

"Ms. Willows?"

Looking up abruptly, Catherine was shocked to see the woman actually looked to be around the same age as herself. Her brown hair was speckled with a light mixture of grey hair, and was currently pulled into a low setting ponytail. Light freckles seem to be sprinkled out almost evenly along her pale skin with green eyes that eliminated with each smile she displayed. Her smile seemed kind, and before Catherine knew it she was following behind as the therapist led the way to her office.

The door shutting behind Catherine sounded like a loud gunfire that exploded in her head, and she could not help but turn towards the wooden door that now made the room seem smaller than it actually was. "First time?"

Turning slowly around, Catherine stood as she eyed the many different displays of furniture to sit upon.

"Take a seat anywhere. Some people prefer couches while others like a recliner, a rocking chair or even perhaps a love seat."

Catherine took a seat on the beige love seat being that it was directly next to her. Usually she would be one to sit back and just recline against a piece of furniture; but at this moment, she was on edge and sat just as she felt.

"First off, try to relax. I'm going to take things slow, and probably slower with you than I normally would with a client."

"Why is that?"

"I'm trained to see things, and for starters you are far from comfortable. Your body language speaks volumes. I never force a patient into an area that they aren't ready for. Mentally speaking that is. I probe yes, but I let my patients set their own pace. I'm not here as an enemy, but more as a confidant."

"Confidant?"

"Yes, Catherine. I'm here to help you. Your type of job puts you through stressful situations on a daily basis. Your ex-husband was a victim of a crime?"

"How do you know about Eddie?"

"I have your file Catherine. I have a job to do here, and getting to know my patients is only part of it."

"What does Eddie have to do with this?"

"How come you didn't see a therapist then?"

"I didn't need one. Just like I don't need one now."

"And that is something for me to determine. It's not like I'm here to hold you back either. You aren't paying me. The department is."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"What do you mean?"

"The department controls this, and I have no say so."

"Wrong, we control this together. The department only implements what they feel is right. Obviously Detective Brass had good reason to request this for you, but no one can really keep you here unless I feel you need it."

Catherine looked down, and fidgeted with the strap to her purse. The last place she wanted to be was here, and she just hoped the hour would pass quickly.

"So, why do you feel Brass requested you to see me?"

"Because he's following protocol."

"Protocol for when you were attacked at the crime scene?"

"I was fine."

"You were nearly a victim of a sexual assault. That had to be scary."

"Look, I dealt with it. It was scary, but I surpassed it. And dwelling over it isn't going to make it any better."

"How did you deal with it?"

"What?" Catherine asked confusingly as her breathing turned heavy. She was expecting to hear something different not to have to recite how she handled her own problem.

"How did you deal with your assault?"

"I wasn't assaulted," Catherine hollered as her cheeks flushed red.

"You dealt with your issue by denying it?"

"Don't twist my words into benefiting what you want to hear."

"Well, I'm confused then. I have your file here, and the pictures and the other evidence show a completely different story than what you are saying."

"What happened to working through things at my own pace?"

"So you haven't dealt with it. At least tell me that much."

Catherine stared at her therapist with her mouth opened in shock. She was relentless to prove her point, but a point that was well made. "I guess I don't know how I feel about the whole ordeal."

"How does the attack make you feel?"

"It angers me when you call it that."

"Okay, how would you like me to refer to it?"

"It… it was a mishap. Just an eye opener so to speak. I should have been more alert, and that is a mistake that I will never make again."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm not really casting blame… just saying I know how to handle myself better in the future," Catherine whispered as she looked at her watch. It was nearly two, and she let out a breath of relief.

"You seemed relieved that it's two," Dr. Brymore whispered as she finished scribbling notes. "I want to see you twice a week. Would that be okay?"

"Is twice really necessary? I have a teenage daughter too."

"Lindsey, right?"

Catherine stared yet again as she tried to find the correct words to speak. "Yes, that is right."


"I have your file remember, and yes I think twice is necessary."

"Grissom, here is the report from Sara and…" Catherine started before she was quickly interrupted.

"I don't have time for this. Just set it on my desk, and Sara can give me a detailed account regarding the case later." His tone was of a serious nature, and his body posture spoke volumes as he refused to acknowledge that she was even in the room. He continued to flip through the paperwork on his desk and his eyebrows furrowed further. "If that is all, I have things to do here."

"Gil, can we not do this," she whispered as she gently set the file on his desk. "The proposal was out of nowhere. You caught me completely…"

"Is this work related?"

She remained quiet as her throat restricted with emotion. With everything she was going through, she could not afford to lose him—her best friend. "Gil please, don't do this."

"You are working with Sara again tonight. It's actually a case you were working on before you were placed on suspension. You remember the case involving the lawyer that was sexually assaulted, beaten and was left in a coma?"

"Yes, Melinda Franke. She was running to become the next DA. I thought… you handed the case out to someone else when I was suspended."

"I followed a few leads, and then we got overloaded with a whole bunch of other cases. It sort of was placed on the back burner."

"Ok…is she still in a coma?"

"No," Grissom started as he handed her the case file. "She passed away about an hour ago."

The news seemed to punch her in the stomach. Her hand reached out plucking the file from his hands as the rest of her body remained motionless. Her head immediately started pounding as she felt the bile rise up her throat.

"She's waiting on you," he whispered pointedly as he stared at the clock.

It took Catherine a few moments to compose herself as she walked out of his office, and her emotions became daunting. Rubbing at her head as she suppressed her tears, she pushed through the door of the nearest restroom. Collecting herself over the sink, she gently splashed warm water over her face. Bracing her hands on the basin, she took in a deep breath as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Catherine…, I've been looking for you. We have a case to get to," Sara suddenly paused as she tilted her head at Catherine. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll meet you at your Denali in a few."

Opening the door with the base of her back, Sara smiled lightly as she back peddled. "Okay, I will be waiting."

Looking up in the mirror at her reflection, Catherine noticed the lines of defeat that was slowly forming on her face. Just an hour ago, a woman was still alive. For some reason, this case was hitting her hard and she just hoped she had the strength to solve it. It just wasn't fair that another innocent person had to die from the hands of some morbid soul.

Life seemed to be feeling unbearable and she did not realize how much the loss of Grissom would tear at her heart. It felt horribly lonely to know she did not have him on her side, but then through this whole ordeal with McKean she had felt his absence. Now, she couldn't even talk to him regarding cases or specific ones that upset her terribly.

What had she done? Maybe her feelings for him ran deeper than just a great friendship? She needed him. Regardless of her confusion, he had been apart of her for the better of twenty years. He had helped her through all her issues with Eddie by offering a comforting hand, a strong shoulder to cry on, a safe couch to sleep on, and more importantly he listened to her.

Not to mention when Lindsey was born, he was the one that held her hand through the long intense hours of labor because Eddie was too high to make it home that night. Though she was married to Eddie, Grissom had always acted more like her husband than her own husband at the time. He was her safety net, and she felt she had lost everything of value.

Pulling away from the sink slowly and fleeing the bathroom, she dragged herself down the hallway to the locker room to grab her kit before heading outside to Sara who had been waiting on her. Opening the trunk of Sara's vehicle she shoved her kit in the back, and then rounded around on the passenger side and hopped into the front seat silently.

She could feel Sara's gaze upon her so she looked out the window to try and distant herself as much as possible. The last thing she wanted was to be around anyone much less have to talk to them.

"Cat?" Sara asked softly as she started her vehicle.

"Just drive," Catherine whispered as she continued to look out the window. Then it occurred to her this whole situation had been reversed not that long ago when Hank had cheated on Sara. It was Sara that sat in a seat similar to this one, and told Catherine to 'just drive' dejectedly.

Sara stared at her briefly before she pulled the gear in drive, and exited the lab parking lot. The silence penetrated the cabin and Catherine was eager to jump out of the Denali when it pulled to a stop.

"I thought we were going to the hospital?" Catherine questioned in confusion.

"Hospital?"

"Grissom said we needed to work on Ms. Franke's case."

"Oh, we are but we got called out by Brass first. Since the others were already working crime scenes, we were the only ones that were available."

Both women grabbed the kits from the back, and headed up to meet Brass in the parking lot of the Lazy Queens Motel when Catherine suddenly stopped walking. Her whole body turning rigid, Catherine's mouth was invaded with a sour taste as her stomach threatened to lurch the last meal she ate hours ago.

Officer Pettler stood in front of the familiar Motel office as Brass questioned the manager from inside. Not only did Pettler cause Catherine's heart to pitter patter in nervous fear, but the dreary office stirred a horrible memory within her as her breathing turned irregular.

Sara immediately stopped near her, but did not have a chance to respond as Pettler and Brass approached them. "Sara, Catherine…" Brass started as he took one look at Catherine and he gently touched her arm. "You okay?"

Catherine managed a fleeting smile as she shook her head yes. How the hell was she going to manage to get out of this one? She remembered this place. This was the very hotel that she woke up naked and alone many years ago. This place was the start of her unsettling mess with McKean. A night she longed to forget, but terrifyingly enough could not remember.

"There has been a mistake," Brass' voice pulled Catherine from her overwhelming thoughts. "A mishap perhaps. The manager accidentally called 911 then hung up. The dispatcher called the number back but did not receive an answer. So that is why you were called out as well as me."

"That's a bit odd," Sara whispered as her eyebrows drew in together.

"The things people will do," Pettler responded which caught Catherine's attention. She looked up at him and his stare was focused in on only her. Her mouth opened in alarm as she realized that he must have known about this place.

"False alarm then," Sara replied causing Catherine to look over at her. Taking a deep breath, she walked back towards the vehicle needing to get away. Disappear from the whole situation. Her mind was swarming with unwanted thoughts, and she found herself jogging slowly back to the vehicle. Setting her kit down near the back of the Denali, she ran both her hands through out her hair as she looked down trying to ease her thoughts away. Tonight was an obvious set up for her. How she got this case she wasn't sure, but she dreaded knowing. Perhaps it was random, or maybe Catherine was requested.

"Catherine… what is going on?" Sara asked in worry.

"I'm just having an off night."

"And it's obvious! Why?"

She quickly picked up her kit, and shoved it into the rear of the vehicle leaving Sara only to follow what she just did. They both got into the car, and Catherine turned on the radio to help eliminate some of the silence. It wasn't long until they were back on the road.

"Grissom proposed," Catherine whispered out of nowhere causing Sara to quickly glance at her with her mouth open. She remained quiet waiting for Catherine to continue something she was not expecting to hear. "He was waiting for me to say yes, and I didn't. I pulled my hand away and crushed him. I really hurt him Sara, and he wants absolutely nothing to do with me," Catherine rambled without holding back. The words were flowing out of her mouth with little to no resistance. "And… I need him. I can't do this alone. Almost everyone is against me with this whole McKean thing, and what a joke that tonight we show up at a scene that just happens to be a mishap. This wasn't a simple case of an accident. This was to get my attention."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked as she stared at Catherine with concern.

Looking out the window, she took a deep breath as she rubbed at her throbbing head. "I can't go into the specifics Sara. But many years ago… I woke up here alone and naked not remembering a damn thing. I think I was with McKean, but I swear I don't… I don't recall sleeping with him," her voice softened drastically as her voice shook with emotion.

Abruptly pulling the vehicle over and coming to a stop, Sara looked over at her. "Catherine what are you saying?"

She couldn't speak as her lungs tightened causing her face to redden in panic. She did the only thing she knew to do, and harshly opened the passenger door as she unbuckled her belt. She ran towards the ditch gasping for air as she bent over trying to catch her breath. It didn't take much longer until Sara was by her side wishing she knew what to do in order to help her. "Are you saying it wasn't consensual… or that it never happened?"


The air entering her lungs felt thick as she continued to wheeze for more air. "I… can't… breathe," Catherine barely managed as her face flushed drastically. Before she knew it, she felt Sara hands as she gently helped her to sit.

"Catherine… CATHERINE… Look at me," Sara started as she loudly clapped her hands together. Catherine's eyes fluttered up and stared at a pair of dark brown eyes that were staring back at her with concern. Still breathing highly irregular with tiny beads of perspiration popping out on the clammy skin of her face, Catherine found it nearly impossible to stay focused on Sara as her eyes rolled shut.

"CATHERINE… FOCUS ON ME."

Giving Catherine a big smile as her eyes flicked back in Sara's direction, Sara gently grabbed her friend's hands. "Good… pay attention to me. Now I want you to look over my shoulder, and look at my Denali."

Chest heaving as her eyes darted rapidly to the vehicle, Catherine felt like she was going to have a heart attack. She was unsure how she could even focus on Sara, but knowing she was here oddly enough made her feel better.

"Good… now focus on the driver's door of the car. Can you see the handle?"

Her attention quickly adjusted to the handle as she desperately thought about looking away. She wanted to separate herself from reality as it felt too overwhelming.

"Keep focusing Catherine, don't stop," Sara quickly voiced as she noticed Catherine's eyes briefly flicker downward." Her breathing started to slow to a normal pace, but was still very choppy. "What color is the handle?"

"Black," she answered shakily as she looked back at Sara. Gently rubbing Catherine's hands to help calm her, Sara smiled as she witnessed her take a small yet relaxing breath.

"You are going to be okay. You just had a panic attack."

"How did you know how to make it stop?"

"I used to get them. It's about redirecting your mind, and focusing in on little details. Your brain is on overload, and your body reacts to it. So I would focus on what was real, and right in front of me."

"Thanks… I'm sorry for losing it back there. I don't know what's wrong me."

"Are you kidding me? Catherine… you are over pressured, overwhelmed, stressed, and God knows what else. I'd be surprised if you didn't cave," Sara whispered as she helped Catherine up. "Look this McKean thing is obviously playing its toll of you. I'm not going to press you for answers, but you need to talk to someone about this."

"There is nothing to say. I don't remember much from that night," Catherine started as she climbed into the passenger seat. "I just… want this to be over."

"I get that you don't remember much, but Catherine this could be serious. Obviously your mind doesn't want you to remember."

"CAN… can we just drop this please."

"Catherine…"

"Why? Why do you always do THIS? I said I don't remember. I can't even remember if it was McKean. Please, just let it go. More than likely it's nothing."