A/N: This is the last chapter of this fic, one epilogue will follow. I think I already know what to write in it, but if you have suggestions, they are welcome. I am going to thank everyone personally at the end of the story, but for now, thanks to: readers, reviewers, Trialia for the title, Sara Sidle Grissom for the first reading, Binx349 for the betareading. Thank you guys!

Chapter 4

"Mom?" Someone wakes me up. I don't want to… I just want to sleep, pretend that I have not heard her call me. Who is that anyway?

Then I hear it in my head, again. Mom. This must be… Lindsey… Lindsey is here! I open my eyes as quick as I can. Ceiling. White ceiling. I turn my head to her. What has happened to my little girl? She looks so old now… she's changed.

Her eyes are bordered with black. And her hair… what happened to her hair? It's a lot shorter now, and it's black! My daughter had dyed her hair black! She's wearing a pink sweater I have never seen before. It doesn't seem new though. She doesn't smile at me, she just looks at me, with those concerned eyes. I see that she had been crying, black shades are formed on her cheeks.

"Mom… are you okay?"

Okay? I try to focus on my own feelings, the feeling of my body. And actually I don't feel bad. Especially not since the conversation I had with Warrick. He really comforted me, we have a long road to go, but I want to try it again and I think that he feels the same way.

I smile at her. "Yeah, I'm fine sweetie…"

Though I want to know what the hell she did in the past days. I am actually really mad at her, but I just have to comfort her at the moment. I don't think I can imagine what kind of period she went through in the past few hours, hearing that her mom tried to kill herself because of… does she think that it was about her? Oh, maybe… she probably blames herself… she doesn't know that… that it was't about her, well it was, but she's not the one to blame.

She changes her position, shifts on her chair. Her hand moves to her hair, she wants to tuck the lock of hair behind her ear, but then she realizes that her hair is now too. She shakes her head, closes her eyes. I can see that she's biting on the inner side of her lip. She's going to say something.

"Mom…"

When she looks at me I can see that she's about to cry. Her eyes are shining with the light from the window. "I'm sorry…"

She swallows, I guess she is trying really hard to push away her tears. "I never meant this with… running away. I just… I just thought that you… It was't fair you were just so mean to me, I couldn't stay, I thought… I just had to get away. And then you… just. You just tried to kill yourself. I never meant it that way… when I said I wanted another mother, I didn't mean that you should…"

She finishes her sentence, with putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders are shaking. I can't see it, I can't face my daughter suffering so much, even though I think what she did was wrong. I try to place my hand on her shoulder, but can barely reach her. I know that I have to be strong right now, I have to calm her down a little. She looks up. I reach my hand to her, opened, palm directed to the ground. She hesitates, unsure what to do. I nod to her to tell her that it's okay. She takes it and I pull her to myself. She silently climbs on the bed and cocoons herself to me. I stroke her hair.

"Shh, don't cry now. It's going to be fine, I'm… I'm not mad, I'm… was… just worried about you. You… I really want to know what you did this week, but I'm willing to wait until you are ready. Okay?"

I don't feel anything, I just have to comfort her. I focus on that thought. Comfort. That's what she needs. She's shaking of the weeping. Her back to my stomach. I press her against myself with my hand. She turns around and looks at me.

"Mom… you're crying…"

I move my hand to my eyes, touch my cheeks. Fluid. I hadn't noticed it. "Shh, it's okay… okay?" Now I pay attention, the tears are really flooding over my cheeks. In silence.

Lindsey calms down a little, at least her body stops shaking. She moves her hand to the mattress to sit upright. She turns to me, one leg curled under her, the other swinging beside the bedside. She holds herself with one hand to the bed. Her other on my cheek, caressing it, wiping away the tears. "Mom… it's okay. I'm not mad… I… I was so scared…" I close my eyes "Shh, it's okay hun…" I mutter. She breathes in, she's going to say something. I am waiting for the words that are coming, preparing myself for the things I am going to say in return.

"I… I want to tell you… I was… I hitchhiked to… Kathy. I met her on MSN. But… her parents agreed that I could stay there, but that I had to call you. And I couldn't, I was too mad. I stayed there for some days, then they said that I couldn't… be there anymore. I was all alone, her parents weren't nice at all. I didn't know where to go, so I started walking to… The Strip. It was so far… I walked for so long, and my bag was heavy, and I was tired. I saw a bench and I think I slept on it. Then I woke up by someone tapping on my shoulder. It was Greg. First I didn't want to go with him, but he promised me that he wasn't going to call you. He drove me to his apartment, but I forgot my bag of clothes, I left it at the bench, I think. I could wear some of the clothes of the girl-next-door, Andrea. After I showered, I came to the living room. Nick was there too. They said that you had tried to kill yourself but that you were okay. I didn't get it at the first, but later, I… I was so afraid. I mean… you just killed yourself because I was away. Because I left you. Well, I was mad at you, but… I just wanted you to know that I didn't agree with you. I… don't want another mother…"

I listened to her story without interrupting her, but I feel that she is finished now. I open my eyes and look at her. She's sitting, her head bowed down. I have to tell her that it all was very wrong what she did, but I can't. Compared to what I did, it's nothing. And I think she knows that it's wrong herself. I touch her leg, place my hand on the fabric of her pants. She looks at me. I force a smile and get a forced one back.

"Linds? I… there are some things I need to say to you. I… I'm so sorry. I mean… I should never have done… this. I can't explain to you why I tried it. But it just all happened in a moment where I felt really desperate. I just… thought that I had no option, but… I was wrong. I should have thought about you… I am just so sorry. Can you please… forgive me?"

She slowly nods and looks at me. "Of course I will, just… never do it again…"

I shake my head. "I'll promise you, okay? And… Linds? It… it wasn't your fault. I just had some problems I couldn't solve. Never think it was because of you, okay? Please, never blame yourself…"

She breathes in, looks at me with confusion. "But… wasn't it because of me?"

"No… well, partly, but it wasn't your fault. Just remember that, okay?"

She seems surprised. For one moment she doesn't know what to say. "Oh. Okay. So… you're not mad at me?"

"No… I just want you to know that it was dangerous… and I hope you will never think about it again, but I am not mad…"

Silence falls between us. I think about the things that she has said. I don't think I can ask her what she did in those days that she was away, at least not now. Partly I want to know it, partly I don't, because I know how much I will freak out if I knew. I already imagine my daughter, lying on a bench in the park, tired, smelling, homeless. Hopeless.

Honesty is not always a good thing. Sometimes, something fake, like a smile or a gesture, can make someone feel so much better. And is that wrong? I doubt it.

"Mom?" She wakes me up from my thoughts and I look at her. "It's because of Warrick, right?"

I'm astonished and distracted for one moment. She knows? She gives me a little smile, a 'girl to girl'- one, "of course I noticed."

"You talked to him?"

"No… but… Greg told me, probably not everything, but that there was… something with him, and you."

She waits for my answer that she doesn't get. I am not going to discuss my 'something' with my daughter.

She has a right to know. He was the reason, or actually, you were. She has a right to know the truth.

I can't kill the buzzing sound in my head. I feel that the mood is getting a little lighter, after the forgiveness and the confessions. We're going to begin with a clean slate. Start over.

"Okay. I was involved with him, and… something happened, I can't tell you what. But we're going to try again."

She nods. "Mom… I'm so glad to… that you're here."

"I'm so glad that you're here with me too, you have no idea how much you mean to me…"

She moves from the bed. "I think I should go now. I don't want to tire you and… they said that you needed to sleep." She walks over to me, and kisses me. Two hands on my cheeks, kiss on my mouth. "G'night mom…"

She walks to the door and turns around. I stare at her, thinking what to say. Goodnight… I don't even know what time it is. I send her a smile. "I love you…"

She nods and walks out of the door.

And so it goes. After severaldays of pending between black and white, sleep and awakeness, crying and laughing, they decide that I can go home. I am waiting for him, sitting on my bed. When he opens the door, I give him the most bright and radiant smile I have. He only nods, but I see that his eyes are twinkling. I shove myself off the bed, and walk towards him. He catches me in his embrace.

Silence, but not a heavy one. His hands around my shoulders, my head on his chest. He's treating me with care, he's not pressing me too tight to himself. Still, I don't feel an emotional distance-gap between us.

"We're going home."

He whispers in my ear and kisses the upper side of my earlobe. Gently. I loosen my hands around him and he lets me go. He hands me the coat that is hanging on the hanger on the closet. I put it on, he helps me by guiding my arm through the sleeve.

Him. In my home. At least until I can take care of my own. I think I have to get used to the idea. That he will be around me all the time. Well, not all the time, not when I am sleeping in the afternoon, not when he's going to the psychologist. But more time than we used to spend together.

"Cath?"

Oh. I was thinking. I turn to him and smile. I think all the way home, it will be plastered all over my face. Not that I am completely happy or okay, not at all, but today is a happy day and I want to remember it that way. Just because I want it to be.

I look at him and see that he is concerned. "Just thinking. Okay?" He nods and for the first time I see a weak smile. We have to give each other a little privacy, but we understand each other. Reading though the lines.

I look out of the window, blue sky with the white lines of plane, the sun already high in the sky.

My thoughts go back to him. I was surprised that Lindsey was okay with it. Him and me. She hasn't lived with a man since Eddie died. I have talked to my Mom. she's taking Lindsey from school. I will see her every other day. She'll go to school next week again. My mom talked to the head teacher, I was too tired to pick up the phone and explain things. But they completely understood and she can call for help. Anytime.

I have no idea how things are going to work out. I doubt I can keep my job, too much happened and I think that Conrad Ecklie is really going to be hard to convince that I still can do it. Working as a CSI, I mean. I don't even want to supervise anymore, that confidential part of me is gone. Forever.

But as long as they are with me, things are going to be okay. First, I have to refind myself, work things out. Spend a lot of time, thinking about what I did and why. Especially why. Why I have fallen so deep, why I didn't search for help.

Suddenly, I feel hands on my waist. I inhale rapidly, just because I didn't see it coming. He lets me go.

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry…"

I turn around, shaking my head. "No, it's not that. It's just that… I'm not used to it. And I don't know if I am ready yet. I mean, the physical aspect of a relationship. That way. I don't know but… I… I just don't know. Okay?"

I hurt him. I can feel it. And I don't know why I said it, why I told him the stuff. But… it's true. I am not ready. Maybe for hugs, falling asleep in his arms. But not for waistholding. Not if I don't see it coming. He nods. "Of course I'll wait."

He smiles at me, his eyes aren't broken. Maybe a little not used to the situation. "Come on. We're going home."

He takes my hand and walks me to the desk, where I sign out. Then he takes me to the wheelchair and puts me in it. Without saying a word, we're moving to the exit of the hospital.

Being home, I am too tired to do anything. He takes my coat off my shoulders, hangs it on the coat rack and when I look at him, he smiles. "You should go to bed." His words seem to come from very far, it takes me some time to understand what he really means. I want to nod but my head feels so heavy that I barely can lift it. "Is it okay if I lift you and carry you to bed?" I'm relieved that he understands, that I can't walk upstairs to my bed. "Yeah…" My voice is dejected with weakness.

He lifts me and carries me to the upstairs. I don't have the strength to worry about my weight, if he's strong enough to carry me upstairs. He places me on the bed, takes off my shoes and places the blanket on me. He kneels down at me. "I'll be around, if you need me, just call."

"Hm…"

"G'night." He places a kiss on the skin between my shoulder and neck and leaves the room, leaving the door ajar. A small ray of light enters the room. I close my eyes and fall asleep.

Days pass by. Often I lie in my bed, awake. Staring at the ceiling, thinking. Thinking about myself, thinking about him and her. About my life. From time to time, I have the courage to think about the 'hows' and 'whys'. Often I wake up crying, confused about what's real and what's not. Often I have bad dreams. I don't think I will ever become the person I was ever again.

Doorbell. I wake up and my first reaction is to change position, turning around and fall asleep again. Warrick will get it. Suddenly I realize that he's gone. He has his PEAP counselling session, he has talked to Grissom and they agreed that he could try again as a CSI. After he finished his sessions, of course, but it is a start.

I swing my feet off the bed and walk to the hallway. I stop at the mirror, move my hand through my hair. I don't look decent, but I don't care. I walk down the stairs and open the door.

Sara.

Standing in the doorway, with her black coat. "Can I come in?" I nod and she walks to the rack, hangs her coat on it and follows me to the living room. "Did I wake you?"

I nod. "Yeah, you did. But it's okay… I mean, I sleep a lot these days. I don't expect you to know my sleeping schedule."

She settles down in the chair and I walk to the kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink?" My hand is already on the handle of the fridge.

"Yeah… a soda would be nice."

I take two glasses from the cupboard and pour one with soda and the other with orange juice. I take them back to Sara, give her one and sit down on the couch myself.

"So… how are you?"

Even though she tries really hard to make it sound natural, I hear that she feels awkward. She doesn't have to comfort me, but still, I think it is nice that she does. Or tries.

"I'm okay. Under the circumstances. My head still hurts, but my injuries are healing quite well. My skin won't be scarless, but that's okay."

She smiles, knowing that this is not the whole story. "That's the physical part. Mentally?"

"I don't know. Sometimes, I feel okay, sometimes I… don't. I haven't set my appointment yet… with the psychologist, I mean."

She accepts my vague answer. I take a sip from my juice. I feel that she's not here without a reason. Not just because she wants to check me. But a little civilized talk is okay for me.

"How are things going on shifts?" Actually, I don't want to know, but work is everything for Sara. And it's one of the few things we have in common.

"Going well. Sofia moved to days and two from days came to swing. We're quite shorthanded but it works out fine."

She stares at me, scanning. Without a smile. On one hand I like it, because almost every time someone was looking at me, they smile with such piteous smile. Civilized talk is over, I realize.

"Cath… I want to know… the things you said when you… well, Saturday. You…"

She looks at me, unsure what to say. My eyes widen. I am not sure if I want to talk about it. Not with her, although she has a right to know things. She was there, with me.

"You… you said things. And I want to know… are they true? Do you really think that way?"

Where is she talking about?

"Sara, my memories are a bit… blurry. I'm sorry, but I don't remember everything. Just vague things. And I am not sure… about what I know… what's real and what's not. So, please… can you tell me again. It's not that… I'm denying, but… I just don't know."

I see that she is rapidly reshaping things in her head. "Oh… I thought. Well, if you're not ready, it's okay, but I just wanted to know."

"No… it's not that. Just tell me, I want to know…"

Which is true. I feel that I am strong enough to remember, or try to. It's not going to be pretty, but I am going to try to see things in perspective. Try to see things out of my mind, rationalizing. Often it helps me.

"You said that… Grissom and I were never… that he could never do it with me. That he… had… sex with Lady Heather. That I knew nothing about love…"

She swallows. It's as hard for her as it is for me. "And that you still blame me for… that Eddie's killer wasn't caught."

"I said that stuff?" A frown appears in my forehead. I really don't know that anymore. I remember vaguely that she was there. I haven't gone back completely, I want to postpone it as much as possible.

"Yeah… you told me. And of course, you were not yourself, but… I want to know; is this how you think about me?"

I don't hear madness in her voice, nor sadness. Just a hunger for an answer.

So I told her these things about Grissom and her? Why? It is not true, I… don't know what happened between him and Lady Heather, and I certainly think that he has a thing for Sara. But… who am I to tell her those things? And Sara, knowing nothing about love? Who am I to say those things?

Eddie. My first reaction on her was primal. I did blame her, but not anymore.

"I don't remember that I said it… but, if it is true… I had no right to say such things. And… no, I don't think I feel that way. Gil and you… I don't know. I am not the person to… I am not him. I shouldn't have spoken for him. And… Eddie. To be honest, I blamed you. But not anymore. Sara, I'm sorry…"

She stands up and I do the same. "Okay… that's all I needed to know. Thank you… for telling me this. I… should go now." She touches my shoulder. "Cath, take care of yourself."

I nod and she leaves. I sank down in the chair, thinking of the conversation.

That day, I get a call from Grissom. He asks me if I want to come to his home for 'something we have to discuss'. After I told him that I can't drive, he offers to pick me up. I agree, maybe spending some time out of my apartment will be good for me. I dressed myself, casually, I don't wear any makeup, but I doubt if he cares.

He knocks on my door and I open it. He smiles at me, and while I take my coat, he has already turned around. I open the door to the living room and tell Warrick that I am leaving. He comes to me and hugs me quickly. Then I turn from him and follow Grissom.

On the ride he decides that we're not going to his home, but to some café. I accept the fact, still a little scared of the world outside.

He orders two cups of coffee. In the meanwhile, I look around. The place is nice, not too big, not too modern. It's not one of the 'hot clubs' in Vegas. He comes back with the tray and gives me my mug. I warm my hands.

"Let's get to the point. I have talked to Ecklie about you and if you want to, you can come back. After your sessions, of course."

This was not what I had in mind when he offered me to come. Coming back to work? Working again?

"How… how did Ecklie agree?" I am still somewhat shocked.

"Not, at the first. But I… let's just say that I let him no choice. You're going to work under my supervision and I will be very strict, different than I used to be with you. But… I think both of you deserve a second chance. As everybody does."

Oh. Suddenly, I remember how he wanted Sara back after she had been inappropriate with me. I look at him and I see the same glare as he gave me back then. He knows that I am thinking of it, although he doesn't say it.

"Gil… I am so thankul to you, I don't know what to say…"

He shrugs. "You have a long way to go, but I have faith in you."

I smile widely at him. "Best news in days. Actually I want to drink on it, but I don't think that it's a good idea in my situation."

"Ehm. No."

I lay my hand on his hand. "Gil… you better go to Sara. You have to make it up to her."

"I have to make it up to her?" Confusion fills his gaze.

"Yeah. I think I said some things… you have to show her that they are untrue. I think you should ask her out for dinner. She really deserves that."

He doesn't answer the question, and he doesn't need to. He has done enough for me. I finish my coffee and so does he. It prevents us from talking. I put my mug on the table, lean down to the back of my chair. I look up and move my hands through my hair.

"I already set your appointment. Tomorrow, two pm, Doctor Emily Hill." He hands me her card and I put it in my pocket without looking at it. "Thank you."

Awkward silence. "So…" I try to break it, but do not know what to say.

"How is Lindsey doing?"

"She's okay. Spending time with my mom. She's back to school. She… well, she's having a hard time, but she's okay. We're going to try again."

I smile, thinking of last night. When she made cookies and waited in my bedroom, until I woke up. Silently sitting in the corner, on my chair of clothes. Unknowing that I am awake, I looked at her. We ate them together. She told me about her day at school. I had practically nothing to tell her than I had been sleeping and reading a little. It was almost like the things we did together, years ago.

"And you?"

"I'm going to be okay."

The good thing is that I really mean it. I am going to be okay. No matter what it would take from me, or how long it is going to be, I am going to be okay again.

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