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I enter the house after hours of futily search. Melissa wasn't at home, but that didn't mean anything. She could be traveling or just out for the night. We checked the waterfront areas just in case and came back with nothing. One of two things is going on. Either the killer is just playing with me and she's not the next target, or – and I'd rather not think about this option – Ramirez is right and the killer isn't following the book to the letter.

I'm emotionally exhausted. I'm on edge because I know that the killer is using me like a simple pawn, and the bastard might be studying my every move.

I walk toward the kitchen and try to decide what to do. Shall I eat or have something to drink? I sigh in exasperation as I can't even make a simple decision. "Damn it Sidle," I mumble at myself and bury my head at my hands. I turn around and crash on the couch, maybe all I need is some rest. I'm sitting with my arms on my knees and my face hiding in my hands again. A familiar sound reaches my ears and I stop breathing. I must be mistaken or hallucinating. I'm so tired that I think I hear Catherine humming. That must be it. I'm hearing things because of fatigue. But I'm not hallucinating because the sound is slowly getting louder as I get closer to the kitchen. I know this sound. I've heard it countless times before and it only means one thing.

I feel hot tears falling freely down my cheeks. Human beings are creatures of habit and Catherine is certainly no exception. There's only one moment she hums. I know it because I used to be the reason she would do it. I found out that after sexual encounters, Catherine hums. It's a habit. She does it without noticing, just like I sing whenever I'm focused on something. And she only hums a specific song – "Natural Woman."

And if she's humming now, it means…

I used to love this sound. It would put a smile on my lips. But right now, it feels like a punch to my gut. Every cell of my body is resonating in rage, I can't take this sound.

When she realizes she's no longer alone and turns around to face me. I grab her and pin her to the wall. She's surprised, but I don't give her an opportunity to speak. "Where is she?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Sara! You're hurting me. Let go!" she answers trying to escape my grip, which only make me tighten it. Truth to be told, I want her to feel pain. To feel a tiny taste of what she's inflicting on me.

"Where is she?" I repeat. I can't bring myself to say her name. The name of the bitch who touch my Catherine. The name of the one who put her hands on this skin I possessed so many times before and memorized with my hands and mouth.

"Dammit, Sara. This isn't cool. Where is who?" she plays coy.

"Ramirez." I finally say feeling nauseous. So help me, if I see her right now, even Cath's presence won't be enough to stop me from… let's not go there.

"Sara, I'm warning …" Catherine says in a threatening tone. If it was a physical fight I wanted, I could have it. I drop her wrists and take a step back. Once I feel the cabinet behind me, I slide down against it.

I can't help sobbing hard as I realize that I've lost Catherine for real. My heart feels like it's bleeding in my chest and the fucking pain is unbearable. "You slept with her?" I state more than ask. She squats down in front of me and lifts my chin, but as soon as I feel the contact it burns and I push her away. She falls on her ass and looks at me with surprise. How dare she touch me when she just fucked somebody else? I don't want her pity or any of her lame excuses or to hear her pretend that I'm getting the wrong idea. "You were humming. You only hum after…." I tell her. This is what gave her away, so she can try and deny it but we both know I'm right.

"Sara you ended our relationship. You've been sleeping with a rocket scientist. I slept with someone else all these months later. What's the difference?" she spits at me.

What's the difference? What the fucking difference? I won't deny I'm the one who screwed things up. I won't deny that I slept with Adin, but it is different. "But I never stopped being in love with you." I tell her. I look at her and it seems to come as a surprise to her. "I never stopped. I never will stop," I repeat before walking away and leaving the house once more.

I step out in the front yard, trying to breathe deeply. No matter how hard I try, I feel like I'm choking. I feel dizzy and it's like the whole world is spinning backwards. I take a few more steps, but it's like I was walking on jelly. That or maybe it's my legs which have turned into jelly. Either way I don't feel steady on my feet. And without any warning, I bend over to puke.

I manage to reach the tree and I lean against it closing my eyes tightly. This is not happening. It can't be, right? I'm going to open my eyes and find myself in my bed. I open my eyes and I'm still in the front yard of the house. Fuck.

She fucked Ramirez. No, what's worse is that Ramirez fucked her. I close my eyes once more as my stomach lurches again. Something snaps in me at this realization. I feel empty, now I don't have anything to hold on to. I'm empty except for this love for Catherine, this poison which is now killing me.

I look at the house and start walking toward it but then stop. I can't go back, if I do something bad will happen. I turn to the car, yep that's the only option. I want to be away from here. I want to stop the pain, I don't want to feel anything anymore.

I get in the car and drive away.

xxxxx

"Sidle."

"He strikes again. Where the hell are you? We need you here," Spencer barks at me.

"Geez, you've always known how to talk to women," I joke. I'm amazed to see that in my current state I can be that witty.

"Just get your ass here," he replies. He gives me the directions before hanging up on me.

"Charlie, I have to go," I tell the bartender. I have most of my friends here and the advantage of having a friend who owns a bar is that you don't have to pay to slip into the bliss of oblivion.

"Let me give you a ride," he says.

"I'm fine, thanks." I don't give him time to answer before exiting the bar. I'm parked just in front of it, so it's only a minute before I'm in my car driving away. I see Charlie in the rearview mirror saying something, probably that I shouldn't be driving in my state. I'll never know since I'm already speeding to my scene.

I've never had a drinking problem. I never drank because I needed a drink. My youth with Liam, Spencer and all, wasn't the best time of my life. We were constantly indulging in whatever alcohol and drugs we could get our hands on. Growing up I tried to discipline myself and adopt a clean and sane life. Being a CSI, you sometimes wish you could burn your brain with acid and erase all the atrocities you face every day. I did turn to alcohol for an escape, but as a general rule, I seldom drink.

When I do drink a lot, I wait until I feel this little 'click' telling me that now I don't feel anything anymore, that I'm above everything, that I'm empty and emotionless; this little 'click' that makes me untouchable.

I arrive at my scene and don't bother to park properly. I grab my kit and go under the yellow tape. My first interest is the body lying in front of me.

Melissa.

So we just weren't good enough to prevent this from happening. I'm so far gone with alcohol that even though my brain is receiving this new information, I don't show any physical signs of pain or concern. My first love is lying dead in front of me in a morbid staging and all I can do is blink my eyes with indifference. Melissa is lying near a pool of water. She's dressed like Alice and holding a pendulum in one hand, a bloody rose in the other.

"Where have you been? I've tried calling you for the last hour," Catherine asks me with 'concern'. I just look at her before turning my attention to the body.

I kneel and have a closer look. Melissa was always beautiful, and right now she's just as beautiful as I remember. I can't help but think about the countless times I watched her sleep. I would caress her face and hair, amazed to be with her. I reach a gloved hand toward her face, but stop my motion. She's dead. She's a body in the middle of a crime scene. "Forgive me, love," I mutter. I get up and start to walk away. I just can't do this. She was my lover, and I can't process her like any other body.

I start to focus on doing the perimeter. "What was that about?" Catherine's voice is a bit high, a sign that she's pissed off, like I care. I don't bother turning around and continue my inspection of the perimeter. "So you're going to ignore me now?"

I turn to her and stare at her. I'm anesthetized with alcohol right now, so the agonizing beat of my heart is painless – even if it's just temporary. "What do you want?" I ask flatly.

She starts to argue about some thing or another. I'm not listening, but I can see that she's angry. It's like watching a movie on mute. People move their lips, but no words come out. "What's your problem, Sidle?" she says harshly when she finally finishes.

"Actually, it's you. I'm trying to work and you can't seem stop blabbering about I don't know what."

I start to walk past her, but she grabs my wrist. I look at her and she's frowning at me. I look at her hand and then at her again. "Get your hand off of me," I say in a low tone.

"Are you drunk?"

"Get your hand off of me," I repeat a bit slower.

"Sara, are you crazy? Do you think about the scene?! Do you know how irresponsible this is? Sara, they're after you. They're waiting for you to make a mistake. They think you're behind all of this and now you're giving them ammunition!! Damn it!"

"Oh and you care about me, how sweet," I say with a sweet smile openly mocking her. My smile fades away and this time I make sure she's looking at me so she can see the threat in my eyes. "Get your hand off of me. I wouldn't want your girlfriend to get the wrong idea," I say bitterly as I see the slut Ramirez looking at us from afar. I pull my arm out of her grip and walk away.

I'm taking a two minute time off away from the scene. I'm hidden by trees and bushes so no one can see me, not that anyone would notice I'm missing.

"Admiring your handy work?" Ramirez asks me with a mean voice.

I turn and look at her. I wish she could be off my back, it would keep me from beating the shit out of her. I don't answer her.

"I know you have something to do with all this mess, I'm keeping my eyes on you, Sidle."

"Yeah and your hands in Catherine's pants, I know," I reply.

She snorts and smiles smugly. "She enjoyed the ride," she says.

Before I have time to calm myself I'm taking a swing at her. She avoids my fist and punches me in the guts before giving me a hook in my face. I fall down holding my ribs, damn it hurts.

"I told you not to mess around with me chica," she chuckles before walking away.

I should know better than to pick up a fight when I'm not at the top f my game. Once I have y breathing under control again I stand up again with much effort. That bitch will pay for this one. I grit my teeth and try to ignore the pain as I get back on the scene.

Even though I'm pretty sure I'm drunk, I know not to screw up my job. I decide to only do simple thing which don't require too much skill. I'm working slower than usual, but I'm thorough.

"How are you holding up?" Liam asks me. I'm still working on the footprint I found in the mud. I get up and look at him with my head a little tilted.

I consider his question "Melissa is lying dead because of me…I'm just peachy, of course."

"Sorry," he berates himself. He frowns at me. "What happened to your face?" he asks mentioning my fresh wound Ramirez gently provided me with. I don't answer but he keep on scrutinizing me. Liam knows me too well, and if there's one thing I can't do with him, it's hide. "You're gone," he states.

"Really observant, you should consider becoming a CSI," I reply flatly.

"Go home." He orders me calmly, but coldly. I'm about to protest and tell him off when he speaks again. "We're skating on thin ice here. We are the only ones to have each other's back. They're watching us closely, so don't give them any more reasons to question us."

"Who's 'them'?' I ask exasperated.

"They're not stupid, Skim. We might withhold information from them, but they know something is up. Go home, now," he repeats.

I snort and make my way to the car again, escaping his surveillance as he asks some other agent to finish the job.

xxxxx

I barely have the time to park the car in the house driveway when my phone rings. I sigh at the number. "Aaron?" I ask.

"I need to see you now. It's important... I… just come now okay?" he says. I have sobered up a little and I know I can feel distress in his voice. I start the car again and drive away.

The door of Aaron's house is ajar when I arrive. "Squirt?" I call out as I come in, closing the door behind me. I go further into the house looking around for Aaron.

He appears in front of me suddenly and it startles me. "There you are," he says unfocused. "Come with me," he asks before walking away.

I follow him and we head to his office. It's a plain room full of bookshelves, books and a desk. The floor and the walls are covered with wood. Aaron stops in front of me and starts pacing like he was enraged. He's pale and sweaty, I stop him and turn his face to me and look at his eyes. "I'm clean," he says before pacing again.

"Talk to me," I ask.

"He would come to me for favors. I couldn't refuse then. I was high 24/7 and I'd have killed to have my next fix. He paid for everything. In return I was supposed to give him favors and keep it shut," he says fast, mumbling more for himself than me. I don't understand what he's talking about, but I know I won't like what I'm about to discover.

"I was trashed, but not stupid…I kept it quiet, but I didn't do what he wanted me to."

"Aaron, what are you talking about?" I ask softly. Sometimes Aaron is locked in his head and disturbing one of his 'trances' can be dangerous.

"Ron. Ronald would ask me for favors, mostly getting rid of things. One night he came with…." He trails off and then grabs the hammer on his desk and start smashing a spot on his wall. Once he has made a hole of the size of his hand he starts to pull on the boards and peels them off the wall. I was surprised at first, but there was a little case on the wall. Aaron takes out a shirt. No wait correction, a blood stained shirt. Holy fuck.

"I was in need and he had the money for my fix. He came and said I had to get rid of this. I said I would, then he gave me what I needed," Aaron says with desperation.

I take the shirt in my hands and examine it. This is not good, not good at all. "Why didn't you say anything?" I ask him.

"Don't you listen to me?!!" he shouts angrily. "He had me by the balls!! I was fucking dead without him. He had money and I was willing to do anything just to get my next hit! You should know about it!"

"Fuck Aaron this is….damn it!" I swear. Okay, I need to think, hard and fast.

"That's not all," Aaron says. I should be used to it by now, one fucked up situation always hides a lot of shit. "He wasn't alone."

"What do you mean?"

"There was someone bringing him here."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Aaron!"

"I don't know okay?! I was fucking high! How many times will I have to tell you this so you understand?!" he spits.

"You waited all these years! Fuck, what were you thinking! And now….didn't you think that it would be relevant for us?!"

"I'm not proud of myself," he whispers.

He's sorry. I'm so mad at him right now. "Melissa is dead. He killed her," I tell him. He looks at me stunned.

"Are you for real?" he asks, but my silence is eloquent enough. He leans against the wall and lets himself slide down it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…" he says bumping his head on the wall.

"Anything else I should know about?"

"No," his voice is shallow now. "I'm sorry."

Sorry is too little, too late. Even he can figure that out. I'm about to turn and leave when his voice stops me. "I'm sorry I've never been a good brother."

I sigh, "It's not like I've been the greatest sister either," I reply with a little smile. I turn to leave again.

"Don't let her go," he says.

"What?"

"Your friend…Catherine? Is that her name? Well, don't let her go," he repeats. He's my brother and as such he knows what's going on in my life or at least the high and low points.

"Stay out of this," I say through my teeth.

"You fucked things up, yet she's still has your heart, so don't let her go. I know I've never given you anything but trouble, only this time it's a good advice. Don't let her go," he says firmly.

I don't reply. I don't want to think nor talk about Catherine now. I just make my way out without another glance. When I reach the door I turn around again and go back to Aaron. He gives me a questioning look, "Squirt, you're my bro and I love you. Don't you ever doubt that," I state.

"I love you too, Skim," he says with a genuine look of love. I go to him and kiss his forehead, then leave for good.

Aaron and I never had the greatest relationship. We're more like friends than brother and sister, but it's a fact that we have the same blood in our veins.

xxxxx

"Flash?" I say as I lean on the threshold of his lab.

"Oh I believe a beautiful woman called me. What can I do for you my lady?"

"I was wondering if your nickname was only a contraction of your names or if it really meant something," I say nonchalantly.

"I'm fast and good," he answers.

"I'll be judge of that," I challenge him. "I need you to analyze this," I say handing him the shirt. "Do it fast and be thorough. And when you're done, you only page me. Me and me only, got it?" I tell him firmly, letting him know that I won't be messed around with.

He gulps, "I got it. I'm on it."

"Keep it on the down low or you'll have to deal with me," I threaten. He just nods and starts to process the shirt. Well, we might have our first real physical evidence.

I just hope it'll be enough to catch the bastard before he strikes again.

Thanks for reading.