Author's note: Once again, I don't own CSI. Too bad.

To my reviewers. You know who you are. Thank you so much.

Anyways, here is the next chapter. I'm kind of nervous about this one. I think that I dwell on the dramatic side far too much, and I've never written anything dealing with violence. Oh well, here goes...

Tristan tossed and turned on the couch. She glanced at the clock; the face read 2:35. Work was hours away, but sleep was evasive. After a few more minutes of waiting for sleep, she decided to get up. Plodding slowly to the bathroom, Tristan flicked the switch and stared at her ghastly reflection. Her dark blue eyes were red and swollen and her usually smooth brown hair was tangled. She half-heartedly ran a brush through her hair and tied it back into a ponytail. Tristan threw on a blue shirt and jeans. Her mission was to find a park that was close to her apartment. After walking a few blocks, she found a small park with only a handful of people who were walking on the opposite side. She walked to a park bench and sat down. A light breeze blew, and Tristan wished that she had brought a sweatshirt. One man standing off to the side caught her eye, and she studied him intently. I've seen him before. But where? She decided to walk a little closer. "William Porter. I can't believe they let you out." she muttered to herself. "What are you doing here?"

He saw her staring and started walking towards her. Tristan turned to leave, but his hand reached out and grabbed her arm stopping her short. "Don't try to run," he warned her.

"What do you want?"

"Why, hello to you too, Tristan. I haven't seen you for awhile. Actually, I saw you just yesterday, but does that really count? You're probably wondering why I'm out of prison. I was let out early for good behavior."

"That's crazy. You only served five years. For murder. Well, after they get some more evidence, I guess that you'll be going back in for a lot longer." Tristan told him.

"I didn't kill anyone, Tristan. They say that I killed a girl. I don't know what they are talking about. As for what I did. I'm sorry. Please believe me." William said in a half-pleading tone. Tristan jerked her arm out of his grasp.

"I can't ever believe anything you say. Not after what happened." She shook her head vehemently.

"I figured you wouldn't," he said angrily.

"You kidnapped me. Took me away to a secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere to hide out with your crime buddies. Why should I help you?" Tristan crossed her arms and stared at him in disgust.

"Maybe because I'm your uncle," he emphasized the word.

"You gave that right up when you were sent to prison. I will never consider you to be my uncle. Ever."

"I do care about you. I'm different now."

"I didn't know that you cared about anyone else but yourself. Besides, it's a little late to try to redeem yourself." Tristan replied coldly.

"Are you still having nightmares?" he asked.

"What goes on in my life is none of your business." Tristan stepped back from him. How does he know about every part of my life? she thought.

"Tristan, I know everything. I know that you work at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. You used to work during the day, but you were transferred to the night shift. Every day you walk to work because you don't want to buy a car." William chuckled, his laughter grating on her nerves.

"What? So are you stalking me now?" Now Tristan was starting to feel nervous. Her heart began to speed up.

"I did watch you for awhile, but only to see how you were doing," he admitted.

"Leave me alone. I will never help you. Not after Stephen."

"You're going to regret your words, Tristan. I should have killed you when I had the chance." He raised his arm as if to strike her, all She flinched, but didn't back away. He lowered his hand. "Still scared as always I see. No, I won't kill you. There's no point in killing someone who's been dead for over ten years." His harsh words stung her consciousness.

"Listen, I have to go to work, so this little heart-to-heart needs to come to an end. I hope I never see you again." Tristan turned to head back to her apartment.

"Fine. I hope that one day you'll realize that I am sorry for what happened," he called after her. Neither of them noticed the solitary figure hiding behind a tree who had heard every word of their conversation.

Tristan jogged back to her apartment, her mind tumbling around with questions. Why is he trying to be all friendly? I liked him better when he hated me. A sudden thought hit her. What if he's telling the truth? She pondered these thoughts as she stepped into her shadowed living room. A sudden movement caught her eye.She lunged for the door. Get outside! her mind screamed a warning at her. The door slammed shutas the shadowy figure beat her to it. She was trapped. Something hard hit the side of her head. Pain shot through her head and everything slowly faded to darkness.

Yeah, I don't know what to think about this chapter. Makes me nervous dealing with violence.Review and tell me what you think. Your reviews are very helpful (and often funny).