A/N: Broke my promise... This was meant to be a two-parter, but I broke this promise. There will be at least one chapter after this chapter, let's say that.. who knows what will follow? Thank you very much for the reviews, always nice to read them! I completely forgot to thank the people involved, so I'll do it now. Thanks to: Cybrokat, Sara Sidle Grissom, Snow. Let's go with this:) It's still Catherine's POV.

Chapter 2:

My head hurts. I have no idea where I am, I have no idea what has happened. I just feel the buzzing sound of pain circulating in my head. I want to open my eyes; I want to see where I am. I want to know what happened. I try madly to open them, but it doesn't work. They feel so heavy, and my intuition tells me that it is probably better to leave them closed.

But my head… what has happened to my head? I try to lift my right arm, and for some reason I can lift it. I try to move it to my head, because that seems to be the place that hurts the most. Closer, closer... no. I am too tired to move. I think my hand was almost there when it dropped down on the bed.

I feel exhausted; I want to fall asleep again. I swallow, and try to close my thoughts. Then I hear the sounds. Why haven't I heard them earlier? The sound of the fast bleeping is covering the room, and I can't deny the sound. It must be my heartbeat. That's the only logical thing I can think of. But that means that… I'm in the hospital. How on Earth have I ended up here?

I hear myself moaning, I didn't even plan to do it. It must have slipped right out of me. I try to open my eyes again, but still, I fail. I feel sick and useless, I can't do anything, and that frustrates me. I can't even open my own eyes. Still, I want to know where I am. I try to make a picture of the room, with everything I'm feeling. I don't need vision; I can imagine the world around me without vision.

Now you have to focus, Catherine, Focus, stay awake.

I try to focus on the feeling I'm having. I try not to focus on the buzzing pain in my head, but on all the other things. The feeling in my head is very unpredictable. One moment, it feels heavy and barely movable, the other time very light, almost like I'm asleep. Or dead. No, I can't be dead; the monitor sounds tell me that I'm still alive. Though I don't feel very much alive right now. I feel… strange, like everything that is happening is not real. Though I know that I am not dreaming. I am trying to forget about the feeling my head gives me; I need to make a picture of the world around me.

There is something in my nose, I don't know what it is but it feels safe there. I didn't worry about my condition but now I doubt myself. If there's something in my nose, does that mean that I'm... close to death? That thought can't get far and I decide to eliminate it. Can't think.

Apart from my head, my neck hurts. And my arm. Actually, now I think about it, it's the skin of these places. But I have no idea why. And I don't want to remember how I got here, the only thing I want to know is why and when I know, I want to sleep. Deep sleep, perfect sleep.

Analyze the room.

I am in a bed. I'm lying in a bed, under the sheets. My head is pillowed up. I know that my body doesn't do what I want. I'm pretty much knocked-out. Why? Maybe I can get my right hand to my left arm, it hurts there. Not the pain that's usual, it didn't bleed. It's more itchy pain. I want to know why. I manage to lift my right arm; I manage to make it touch the skin of my other arm. I expected to find skin; I discover that my arm is bound in a bandage. My neck feels the same, so I figure that the same has happened to the skin there.

Suddenly, blurry memories come in my mind. I can't connect them; I can't set them in order. I see... a lighter, lying on the floor. Drugs, I see someone injecting drugs into his arm. I can't see the person, and I have no idea how these visions are related to each other. This is the most frustrating thing... that I have no idea what happened. Do I know who I am? Yeah, I still know myself. I am Catherine Willows, Las Vegas Crime Lab, mother of a twelve-year-old girl, Lindsey. Good. I know myself.

I sigh. I want to open my eyes, and know I will succeed this time. Willpower will do it for me. I'm surprised how easy it goes now, they open. I blink; the light in the room is too bright for me to see anything. Slowly the vague shapes of the world around change into a clear image. My head is too heavy to turn, so I just screen the room with my eyes. What time is it? I search for a clock around the room and find one. It's half past seven. In the evening I think, but I'm not sure. Now I see the room, I'm sure that I'm in the hospital. White walls, a sink. I look at my hands, without moving them. There's indeed a white bandage, covering almost my whole left arm. An IV is sticking out of my right hand. Water... I want to drink. But I don't even have the strength to move my head, let alone that I can walk to the sink and pour a glass of water. I close my eyes again, and sink into some sleep.

I wake up when I hear a door being closed. That sleep didn't help at all, I actually feel more tired now than I did before I went to sleep. I want to open my eyes again. I look at the room. First thing that draws my attention is the clock. I have slept about 45 minutes. For some reason I can calculate quite quickly. I scan the room, and finally recognize her. She's standing at the doorway, looking at me. I don't know if I want to smile at her. I try to, but my muscles don't listen to me. When she sees that I'm awake, she gives me a warm smile and walks to the bedside. She takes a chair out of the corner and places it next to my bed.

"So..."

I'm hoping that she is able to tell me what happened. Because I still don't know why I'm in this bed and why I'm feeling so fucking weak. I look at her face. She is feeling pretty uncomfortable, I can feel it.

"How... how are you feeling?"

I clear my throat. "Weak... sore... What... happened to me?" My voice sounds shaky. Still, I'm pretty impressed that I can talk like this. She shrugs.

"Well, I hit you pretty badly. It must have hurt."

She hit me? What on earth? This was the least I expected, Sara Sidle hitting me so badly that I must go to the hospital.

"You don't remember?"

I think I'm hearing disbelief in her voice, and some panic too, but I'm not really sure. I look at her; I want her to tell me the truth. Suddenly, I notice red scratches on her left cheek, the blood has dried up, but it's clear that it is there. I notice a bandage on her right hand. The scratches seem to be made with fingernails, my nails? She told me that she hit me, did we have a fight? Why can't I remember what happened?

I must look very confused. She takes my hand for a moment and smiles with me, full of pity. I want to cry, I feel so awful. I sob, once, twice, and then it's over. My throat hurts, there's absolutely no fluid in it anymore.

"Water..."

I don't have the strength to pronounce a full sentence. It seems that Sara doesn't mind my impoliteness. She stands up and pours me a glass of fresh water. She makes me sit a bit up, and helps me drink it. She holds the glass, while I swallow it down. The fluid makes me feel a little better, and I thank her. She shrugs and places the glass on the table next to my bed. She settles down on the chair again.

"I… I have no idea. What happened to me?"

Even these words make me feel so tired and I want to close my eyes and fall asleep again.

Come on, Catherine, you have to stay awake.

"I think it is better that I don't tell you. You have some kind of memory loss and I think I can cause a lot of damage when I tell you what happened. I'm sorry."

She seems to mean it.

"Can you tell me… what's gonna happen now?"

I am trying, very hard, to forget about the 'how's' and 'whys' and focus on the present. Maybe if she tells me what is going to happen now, what is going on, I'll get more clarity about what happened. My eyes meet hers and there seems to be great concern in them.

"You… I talked to your doctor; he told me that you have a concussion. You have second degree burn marks on your arms and neck, and you're completely dehydrated. The doctor told me that you probably haven't eaten anything since… a couple of days back. You have to stay here for awhile, to get better. You are pretty weak right now, but everything is going to be fine."

She's trying to comfort me, though I know she's telling me half of the truth. I feel like I'm getting more and more tired by every second that passes. I close my eyes, hoping she will get the hint, and thank God, she does. "I think I'll come back later, you need to sleep. There are… visitors… waiting for you, but I think its better that they don't visit you right now, Cath, you'll understand, later you will understand me. If you need me, just ask the nurse, and I'll be there, okay?" I nod, too tired to think about the exact meaning of her words. I feel that I'm losing consciousness.

Drowning… I feel like I'm lying in the ocean. My consciousness can be described as a wave, down under, but never for a very long time. It's not really sleeping, it's more like slumbering. Images in my head, more images than I can handle. Still, they are unconnected. Lighter, drugs, but now more of them. Burns, locker room… Warrick… Lindsey… Lindsey yelling at me, but I can't hear words. Sara… sitting on the floor, looking at me. I wonder why, but I can only guess. Darkness. A dark, cold room, no joy, no laughter. Just cold as ice. Is it my room? My home? Has Sara been to my home recently? I don't know...

I'm awake now, thinking madly about the connection. It's like making a thousand piece puzzle of a blue sky without the box, without an example. I try to get back to Lindsey because I miss her. I wonder why she is not here; I want my darling girl next to me. Does she know that I'm in the hospital? Does she know what happened to me? Where is she? I almost want to press at the alarm-button, but realize that it will make no sense. They won't tell me anyway and first, I have to know things for sure. I moan. The pain is coming again, waving through my head. I know it wants to knock me unconscious again, but I won't let it. I bite on my lip, swallow deeply, and try to focus on my breathing. The pain is fading away and I sigh of relief.

Get back to Lindsey.

What did she yell at me? Memories... blurry memories, but I try to make them more sharp. She's standing there, in my room, and she's angry. No, she's furious. I try to focus on her words.

"...I wished that I had another mother! You're... ...I want someone else... ...tired of you. You're so... ...Leaving."

Bad mother… other mother. She left me?

Fuck.

The thoughts come back, partly. My little girl has left me... I'm convinced that she has. I try to convince myself that she just had some sleeping-party with a friend, but another memory draws my attention. Clothes… no clothes in her closet. I remember myself standing there, in her room... all her clothes are gone, at least the ones she wears a lot. She's gone? Lindsey… where is she? Have I been looking for her? Of course I have but... I didn't find her, right? I try to get my memory from the moment she yelled to me to now, but... there are black holes in it. Lindsey is not in the memory.

But how is she related to all the other memories? Lighter... that seems to be really important. Did she smoke? She has smoked a cigarette, but I feel that that is not the right connection. I feel that I have done things with it, and no one else. Have I been smoking? I can't imagine that, I haven't smoked in weeks. Burning things? Documents? I can't remember anything of it... and what documents would I have been burning? I have no idea...

I am Catherine Willows, lying in a hospital bed, with a concussion and second degree burns. I probably haven't taken care of myself in the past few days, Sara told me that I have been dehydrated and haven't eaten in days. Have I been kept somewhere? Kidnapped? But what has Sara got to do with it? She was there, with me, in the dark room. Has she been kidnapped too? I don't remember anything of that, and how would Sara and I end up somewhere alone? I'm not her supervisor, I haven't worked with her in months and Ms. Sidle and I are not the closest friends in the world. And I don't see Sara as a kidnapper... And if she was, she wouldn't be allowed to talk to me; she would go straight to the Police Department. See? I can think straight.

I yawn, and feel that I'm getting tired again. I beg my body not to give up now; I feel that I'm very close to the solution. It doesn't listen. My head seems to be filled with emptiness, thoughts can't enter in. My head feels very heavy and I fall asleep again.

I wake up by the sound of some machine next to me. A door opens, footsteps coming closer to me. The sounds become louder, still I don't feel panic. Someone is standing next to me, I can feel it. I can hear the person's breathing. She's doing something, and I know I have to open my eyes to see it. Suddenly, she starts to talk.

"I'm going to replace your IV. Don't worry; it will take me just a few seconds."

Is she aware that I'm awake? And who is she? I flutter with my eyes to get a picture of her. I think she's a nurse, she wears some uniform. She's doing something with the wires, but shortly after that, she looks at me.

"You're awake..."

I nod. I feel that I'm awake enough to have a conversation, and I want to have one with her. I want to know what happened, Sara is not talking. Maybe if I ask the right questions, the nurse will tell me. She is done with her job and takes a seat next to my bedside.

"How are you feeling?"

Again, the same question and I feel that I will hear this question for a lot in the future. I have to tell her that I'm fine, because I fear that she won't answer my questions if she will know how I feel now.

"My head hurts..."

I look at my hand that has not been connected with an IV and touch it. I feel that the bandage is still there. The nurse takes my hand and lays it on the bed again.

"Don't touch it. You'll make it worse."

Her hands are warm and I feel bad that she lets my hand go. Human contact is good when you're lying alone in a dark room for such a long time. The nurse smiles at me. I swallow, and think very hard what I should ask now. I feel that she want to tell me something, she is nice.

The lighter.

The lighter is the key, I feel it. "Where's the lighter?"

I look at her and I feel her shock. She remains silent, probably thinking of what she's going to say to me. "Well, it is not here. If you want to burn yourself again, you will not succeed. You just need your rest now."

I burnt myself? How? Accidentally or... intentionally? I let her words replay in my mind. Want to... right? So... intentionally. I tried to burn myself? Kill myself? Sara was there? I need to talk to her. I want to hold Lindsey; I want her close with me, saying that everything is going to be fine.

Is she frightened? Is she here? Sara told me that there were visitors for me... is she there? Has she come back? I want to know, but on the other hand, I don't know what I look like right now. I must look horrible, at least I feel that way. And what use am I to her now? The only thing I can do is talk for five minutes, after that I'm so exhausted that I fall asleep again. I can only blink with my eyes, move my hands and lay here. Shall I ask the nurse to bring her in? And what is she going to say? What if she says things that prove that I'm completely wrong about this? What if she's still angry? Starts to yell? Starts to cry? Can I handle that?

I don't know and I think it's probably better to... ask for Sara. Hasn't she told me that I can call her anytime I need her? I clear my throat. "Is... Sara still there?" I hope she will know who Sara is.

The nurse thinks and looks at me again. Eyes full of pity; I hate the way everyone is looking at me lately. "Yeah, she's here, waiting in the hallway. You want to see her?" I nod, and bite on my lip. I need to stay awake, awake, awake. I can't fall unconscious again.

"There's a man waiting for you too. I can send him in if you want..."

A man? Who is waiting for me?

And suddenly, I realize it all. Suddenly I have the whole picture clear. I want to cry... and I do. I feel a cold shiver razing through my body, starting at my back, flowing to every part of me. Every part of me turns from warm to cold as ice. I fear that the nurse will notice... I look away from her. I don't want to see anyone right now; I don't think I can face them. Tears are filling my eyes, and I feel that the lump in my throat is growing. I start to sob, because now I realize why I am here.

I tried to kill myself... because... he left me. He fucking left me, and now he's back. He's back because I tried to kill myself. What does he think about me? He must hate me now, doesn't he? I wish I had killed myself; I wouldn't be in this situation... I wish I was dead. I cannot see him; I cannot see my little girl. And I don't think I can see Sara either now. She knows, and now that I know... Sara was the one that stopped me. And I have treated her so wrong... I have said the most horrible things to her, to make her leave and she should have left me but... she couldn't help it. I must... I don't know what to do... I wish that... they would just leave me alone. I want to be alone...

The nurse holds my hand, in an attempt to comfort me. I fake a small smile and she thinks that I'm fine again. That's what I hope, at least.

"You okay?"

I nod to her. "Shall I send the woman in for you?"

I shake my head, but I do it so fast that it hurts. Both of my hands clamp my temples, I close my eyes with the greatest effort, a frown appears on my forehead. I moan, try not to think about it, try to focus on something. I start to count, maybe that will help. One, two, three, four, five, six... It doesn't cover the pain. I can't focus on anything else, it's just there and only it is there. Nothing helps to stop the pain... it's waving again. It's almost as bad as contractions, you know they will come, you just don't know when. I'm suffering from the same, I know that the pain will leave, but I don't know when, I don't know if it will become worse or not, if it will hold seconds, minutes or even... hours.

I start to breathe fast; I have no idea why, my body just makes my breathing uncontrollable, but I hope that the pain will leave me; I'm hoping that that will help. The nurse comes closer, and calls my name. I don't want to react; I want to be unconscious... I can't face anyone right now.

"Ms. Willows... open your eyes. Please look at me."

Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't. I let them close, and suddenly, my breathing is back to normal.

"Send her in."

I whisper the words, without opening my eyes. I feel that she is leaving and I prepare myself for the most difficult conversation I will ever have.

The door opens again, and I don't look at it. My eyes are still closed, I don't pretend that I'm sleeping, just eyes closed, head turned away from the doorway. I hear footsteps coming my way, a chair being moved, placed at the side of the back of my head. A sigh. And silence. Heavy silence, combined with the heart monitor. I have some kind of feeling... this is not Sara, but I can't proof it. I don't want to move, and actually I don't want to talk either. I guess I have to... I have to face the outside world sometime. I think Sara has been mean to me by not telling me the truth. If she had told me why I was here, I wouldn't have... I wouldn't have been so insecure, not knowing...

I hear the person move. "Catherine..."

It's Grissom.

Shit...

I have no idea how I am going to react. I think he's even worse to talk to... compared to Sara, at least. Sara knew what was going on, Sara knows the truth, at least that is what I think. I turn my head, even though I actually don't want to. I want him to leave me alone, but, deep inside, I know that it is better for me that he is there. I catch his eyes, and find mixed emotions in them. Disappointment, sadness. I hoped to find some sympathy, but I can't find it. Not even worry. I am craving for support; I can't use the harsh look in his eyes. I am begging for a little understanding, but those eyes are not giving me that. I feel that I am slipping, slipping again. And I don't want to, but I can't control myself. He looks at me, concerned now.

"Why?"

Just one word, one question. But the undertone... so much depth in one question. I think... try to think, but I can't find an answer. My lips start to tremble, my hands shake. And then I start to cry. Really out of control. I have no idea what happened to me, and I don't know where all those tears are coming from suddenly, but... when I think back, I feel such emptiness inside of me. I am shaking, I can't help it. I have to tell him, he has to understand me. "I... I did it... I tried..." My eyes are completely wet. He is patient, waiting for me. I try not to move, I try to be careful: I feel that my head is going to hurt again. My hand moves to my eyes, it dries the tears. It doesn't stop the flood of fluid.

"I... I did it because... my life, it's just... Warrick... I... I didn't know what to do anymore and then... I took the lighter and... tried to burn myself, kill... I know... it was selfish but... I couldn't do it anymore... I know that everyone is so mad at me and... hates me and doesn't want to see me but... you must understand, it was my only option."

My lips tremble, but I manage to stop the sobbing. I can't look at him again; I know that he is disappointed. I feel that he is thinking what to say to me. I bite my lip, knowing that I am not going to like what he is planning to say to me. I am preparing myself.

"Suicide doesn't solve your problems, Cath, you know that. I have heard you talking about suicide victims so many times, and now you do it yourself. You know what you are going to do, right? You have to talk to a lot of people, if you want to keep your job. I am sorry to say this to you, but I think everyone doubts you right now. Personally, I don't, I think you just had a lot of problems lately, but... I don't understand. Usually you seem so strong, so confident, and look at you now. You can barely lift your head; you can't even look at me. You need to see a PEAP counsellor, a psychologist, you have to talk to Ecklie, Atwater... and this is just for starters. And... of course you need to talk to Warrick. You know you-"

I can't handle it anymore. I know that he is right about it; I just can't hear it anymore. "Please stop. I know it." I am begging him. I feel that the tears are coming again, and I try not to hide them anymore. My hands cover my eyes, and I sob again. He is quiet, but after some time, he places his hand on my shoulder.

"Hey... don't get me wrong, I just hadn't expected this. Why didn't you call for help? You know that we would have been there for you."

I shocked him, I think. And now I feel so stupid, I could have asked for help, but who? Not someone from work, since there would be all the rumours. And I don't trust shrinks either, so that's no option. I feel so terrible now, knowing he is right, I should have talked to someone. I close my eyes. Silence falls again. I can hear him thinking what to say now, and I really hope for some support, because I can't do it all on my own. I look at him, but he is looking away from me. He is thinking. After a while, he looks at me.

"How are you?"

I smile; this is really something from him, a big step. Not the best phrase he could think of, he could have imagined how I feel right now, but at least something nice.

"I'm fine..."

When I say these words, my face flinches of the pain, not only my head, but my whole body hurts. I scream quietly, and it's going away. I know that I'm awake for too long now, that I should sleep. I bite on my tongue, I am not going to let him see how I feel, I must be strong. I breathe through my nose. When I'm feeling okay again, I smile at him.

"Bad lie?"

He nods, without smiling back. My stomach hurts, I am feeling hungry. What did Sara tell me? That I haven't eaten anything since... days ago? She could be right... He wants me to be honest, right?

"Do you have something to eat for me?"

"What do you want?"

I shrug carefully. "What do you have?"

He looks in his pocket, and shows me an apple. I nod. He places it in my hand, and I take a bite out of it. The sweet fluid tastes good; the lack of water has taken its toll. When I have eaten half of it, I look at it. I'm not hungry anymore. Or actually: the real reason is that I'm too tired to eat. My hands shake, he notices.

"Should I drop it in the trash for you?"

"Mhm..."

It's the only thing I can say right now, words are too difficult. He walks to the trash and comes back to me.

"I think you should sleep now, okay?"

"Hm..."

I want to hug him; I want some real human contact. I know he doesn't like it, but for me, he may do it. He is standing next to me, his hand on the back of the bed. I bend forward, lift my arms, and give him half of a hug. He looks somewhat awkward, but I am used to that, he is Gil Grissom after all. He lets me go, and walks to the door. With his hand on the handle, he turns to me again.

"Warrick is waiting for you. He's very concerned. If you're ready, just ask the nurse to send him in. He's not mad at you."

I open my eyes to stains and smile weakly as Grissom closes the door.

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