AN: This chapter, which is so very sad, is dedicated to csigirlie156 because I really don't want ot be hit with her clarinet, which would hurt more then her shoe. And a little note to CSIrookiechick I LOVED that episoipe. Mostly because I got to see a dirty Greg (dirty with actual dirt you sick peopel who's minds are on something else) I love covered-in-dirt Greg, and lab-coat-wearing Greg and funky-t-shit Greg and Greg in the decontamintaion shower with absolutly nothing on at all. :D! And I'm so thrilled I taped 4x4. Speaking of which, I'll watch that whaile you're reading this. And you can all be jelous of me because I get to see a not-wearing-anything Greg. Hahahahaha!

The next few weeks, the next few months, all bled together for Catherine. All the events and moments were blurred. She couldn't tell you how many homework assignments she skipped, how many days she pretended to be sick. The numbers were high but Catherine just didn't care.

She was fading, she knew it. She lost her appetite, like her stomach shrank or something. She spent no time outside of school with her "friends", those stupid shallow kids that followed her. They didn't deserve to be called her friends. She spent almost no time at home. She went to the lake and sat in that same spot Gil found her in before. She kept reading the books he gave her, but her heart wasn't in it anymore.

Gil could see her fading too. Could see her almost disappear. Some days he wondered if she really was there. If she hadn't just died and somebody was pulling the strings of her corpse like a puppet. He wanted to bring he back, to make her right again, but he couldn't. He knew that only Catherine could make things right.

Catherine, unlike the majority of the school, was not excited about the upcoming prom. Not that she was down about it either. It didn't matter to her anymore. It was one of those things that all of a sudden seemed completely unimportant in the overall scheme of things.

She didn't go either. Many boys had asked her but she ignored them all. She sat at home on prom night, in her bed, reading the newest book Gil had given her with much less enthusiasm then one would expect.

She was a walking ghost, a zombie, a shadow. And she knew it.

Her "friends", those shallow kids who sat with her at the lunch table, they didn't notice anything. Weather it was because they were to stupid, totally oblivious, to full of themselves, it didn't matter. The continued on as though Catherine was Catherine. The old Catherine who laughed and jokes and gossiped. The Catherine who was the prom queen despite the fact she didn't show up. The Catherine who actually cared.

Sometimes, she drove. Drove on the highway, not stopping, like she could drive to the ends of the earth. She always stopped before she left Nevada though. Always stopped before she crossed the line. Because she knew there was something tying her there. Even if she didn't want to admit it.

But today, now, nothing mattered anymore. She hadn't touched the little orange bottle in the back of her sock drawer since putting it there. Except for now. She had that little bottle in her hand and was fully prepared to unscrew the cap when the phone rang.

She almost didn't answer it. Almost let it ring. But, maybe because she wanted an excuse, she put the bottle down and picked the phone up.

"Catherine," said the voice at the other end. It was Haliy. One of Catherine "friends"

"Where are you," Haliy continued sounding somewhat annoyed. "You said you'd be here, the concert is about to start."

Then Catherine remembered. Haliy was in a 4th of July concert. Catherine, probably trying to get rid of her at the time, had agreed to go. She knew where it was. Though she didn't want to, Catherine apologize and said she would be there right away.

She sighed as she hung up the phone. She shoved the little pill bottle back into it's place in the back of her sock drawer. She would wait. She would come back and finish what she started. Nothing mattered anymore.

In reality, the concert wouldn't start for another 45 minutes. Why Haliy sounded so rushed, Catherine didn't know or care. She walked backstage to wish her "friend" luck because it would mean something to Haliy. And at then end of the day nothing would matter any more anyway.

Catherine was walking away, walking out, when she heard her name called, softly Almost as if the person wasn't quite sure what they were doing. Catherine turned around slowly because she knew who had called her name even though she hadn't heard his voice in months.

She almost hoped he wouldn't be there, that she had just imagined her name being called. But when she turned all the way around, he was there. Standing there like nothing had happened, like he belonged there, which he did.

Warrick didn't say anymore to her, just looked at her with those green eyes that seemed to glow in the right light, that were the objects of so much ridicule. Though Catherine really loved his eyes, loved everything about him, she hated his eyes now. Hated them because her looked at her with such a calm it was maddening. She didn't want him to be calm, she wanted him to hate her as much as she felt she deserved to be hated.

Catherine wondered vaguely why he was here, what instrument he played. She wondered why he had called her, spoke to her at all. And some deep part of her wondered if maybe she could get another chance. But she shoved this all away, Remembering what was waiting for her at home.

Then Catherine did something horrible. She wondered what made her do it, but would decided in the end that it didn't matter. That nothing mattered. She loved Warrick, she did. She knew this. And the last thing Catherine wanted to do was hurt him. And she knew, in the long run, it would hurt him less if she went to the grave with him hating her.

So Catherine committed one last act of perfidy.

She glared angerly at him. She opened her mouth. "Get away," she hissed. They were several feet away, but the hallway was empty and quite so Warrick heard. Then Catherine called him something horrible and nasty that she would never again even think. Something she blocked out of her own mind, but knew it was necessary make this act of hate and betrayal complete. Then she spat on the floor, turned heel and left.

Catherine stayed for the show. Stayed because she had promised Haliy and because it would matter at the end of tonight anyway.

Haily played her clarinet fine, and Catherine would've left then. But something, something in her mind that she had no control over, made her stay.

Then Warrick walked on stage. He held his guitar and looked quite nervous at being in front of so many people. A second boy was on stage too, seated at the piano, but Catherine's eyes were on Warrick. She heard a man announce Warrick and the other boy, and say that Warrick had written this song himself.

Warrick still looked nervous, but then the boy on the piano began to play, and Warrick started to play his guitar and all his fear vanished. He was part of the music and Catherine watched from her seat, mesmerized. Warrick started to sing, and Catherine was shocked. She had never heard him sing before and he had a beautiful voice.

Little girl, what are you runnin' from

Little girl, why must you hide

Little girl, where are you goin' to

Little girl, what will you find

Catherine watched Warrick sing, like there was nothing else in the world, Like he was singing for everything and absolutely nothing.

Tell me why you're so afraid

I'll wash away all your fears

'Cause you can make my heart smile

Just by bein' here

You were once so happy

You used to be so very bright

But things are so different now

You've seemed to lose you light

Catherine's heart, or what was left of it, seemed to drop to the floor. Her mouth visibly dropped and stood open like that. Her eyes were wide with shock as she saw Warrick play, heard him sing. Because she knew right then, he was singing this song for her, had perhaps written it for her. And she had just made him hate her.

No maybe...maybe things would be alright. No she couldn't tease herself with that illusion anymore. This changed absolutely nothing.

This changed everything.

Little girl, what are you runnin' from

Little gril, why must you hide

Little girl, where are you goin' to

Little girl, what will you find

What has happened in your past

I don't really know

You hide it all behind your mask

Don't let nothin' show

Maybe it wasn't to late. Maybe she could change things, fix things. Maybe everything wasn't really shattered.

No, nothing could be fixed. It was to far gone, to far broken. Everything was gone, shattered, broken.

Maybe you've been hurt, been burned

You're back against a wall

But please don't worry little girl

I won't let you fall

Little girl, what are you runnin' from

Little girl, why must you hide

Little girl, where are you goin' to

Little girl, what will you find

The music slowed down and stopped, but it wasn't te end. You could tell. Catherine looked at Warrick and somehow, miraculously his eyes found her's. He didn't break their gaze and neither did she. She couldn't, nor did she want to.

Please don't worry little girl

Warrick sang without the piano or the guitar, like Catherine was the only one left. The only one that mattered.

She wouldn't worry. She'd fix things. She make them right. She'd glue the pieces back together.

I won't let you fall.

Maybe she had always known this. Maybe that's what screwed everything up. That she could trust him, completely. That he would never let her fall. Even now, when Catherine had thought it was too late. She had shattered on the way down, but Warrick had caught the pieces.

The hall erupted into cheers. The only person who hadn't clapped or whistled or anything was catherine. She had left the hall and ran as fast as she could. Ran as fast as she could for home.