Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.

A/N: This is the sequel to 'Never Again'. I hope you like it!

Three Months Later

Heather stood by the large oak in the only room in the dominion that was ever almost completely silent; Her office.

The silence was taking her a while to become reacquainted with; While physically recovering, she had been staying with Gil in his home. She hadn't been able to do much for herself so he had offered to take care of her. Her staff had been told she was on vacation and on this first day back, she could see in some of her employee's eyes that they hadn't believed that.

A scream echoed down the hall and into her office, causing Heather to jump. Since the attacked, she had noticed that the slightest noises startled her. No one that worked for her knew about what had happened, so she hoped, and she intended to keep it that way; But the jumping was bound to give her away at some point. Thankfully this time it happened she was alone.

She walked the few feet to her bathroom, her black heeled boots clicking quietly as she did so. She closed the door then fastened the sliding lock.

The only light in the gorgeously decorated room was from the incredibly bright sun. Heather glanced around, marveling at her surrounding; Three months in Grissom's house and she had forgotten what her own bathroom looked like.

Now on her first day back in the dominion, her reaction to the bathroom was similar to the one the first time she had seen it.

Her eyes were widened slightly; She slowly took in everything all over again.

The soft green walls, so heart warming and welcoming. The extremely large bathtub, as big as a small swimming pool; She remembered now why she loved this room. It was so spacious and inviting.

Then she spotted the white and grey marbled sink; Slowly, she made her way towards it. She knew she would have to face her reflection in the large oval mirror hanging above the sink. She didn't want to, but it was time.

The last time she had looked at herself in a mirror, purple and black bruises had been extremely visible on her porcelain skin.

Heather placed her hands palm down on the sink, steadying herself; The cold marble seemed to calm her and she was very thankful for that. The last thing she wanted to do was to go into a fit and have to have one of her staff members quiet her down; It would it expose the very harsh and cruel secret she was keeping from them, and once again, she didn't want that revealed.

With a heavy sigh, she raised her head up and looked into the mirror.

Almost immediately tears welled up in her emerald eyes. The very image of herself made her sick, but she inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times to calm down. Once her heartbeat had resumed to normal, she focused on finding the discolorations. The bruise above her left eye was completely gone, along with the purple bruise that had been on the right side of her face.

She gently brushed her chestnut hair off of her neck; At first, nothing could be seen. But as Heather leaned in a bit closer to the mirror, she spotted a somewhat faded green bruise. Four stick like contusions, tinted a light green, were on the left side of her neck.

Memories came rushing back like a flood.

He had held her down that way; His hand around her neck, choking her, making her fear what was going to happen next.

Heather shook her head, almost as if erasing the memory from her mind. She released her hair, covering the faint bruising. She spun around so her back was to the mirror; The past month had been a lie.

She had lied to Gil. He had asked her once a day for the past month if she was okay; Each time, she replied yes, fully knowing that she wasn't fine.

Every time Heather had been alone in Gil's house, she had feared whether or not the man that had attacked her would return. It was a plausible fear; That man had not been captured.

And each time Heather took a shower, she scrubbed incessantly at her arms and abdomen, most of the time until her skin was raw and bleeding; It felt as if he was still on her. And to cover up these abrasions, she wore longed sleeved shirts all of the time, not matter the weather.

There was more, but these things alone constituted that she was not fine.

Heather blinked a few times to clear the tears from her eyes; She swallowed hard, then exited the bathroom.

Much to her surprise, Gil was standing by her desk; He looked worried and was hiding something behind his back.

"Hi. Is something wrong?" Heather inquired. She gestured for Gil to take a seat; He refused with a solemn look on his face.

"Yes. What's this?"

He extended his hand, revealing a blood stained wash cloth.

Heather lowered her head. She had known that sooner or later, Gil would have caught on. She just hadn't suspected it to be this very day.

"I'm sorry," She whispered. Tears spilled over her eyelids, sliding down her cheeks. She reached up and quickly wiped them away.

Gil walked around the desk and knelt by her. His heart was pounding manically; He felt horrible that he hadn't caught on earlier that she was not all right.

"Heather, I want to help you. I honestly do; But you have be ready to help yourself," He softly replied.

She looked up at him; They held each other's gaze for a moment, then she slowly nodded.

"Good. Let's get you home."

Heather obediently stood up and allowed Gil to take her arm. She didn't catch onto the fact that Gil had just referred to his home as their home.

She also didn't care where he took her; She just needed to be near him.

Later That Night

Gil was seated on the couch in his living room; Heather was next to him, her eyes closed but she wasn't asleep.

He had planned to simply sit and listen to anything she had to say.

"I… I don't know where to start," She told him.

She didn't want to talk about the evening she had been attacked; In fact, anything but that night would have been appropriate. But the evening her life had been put on hold wasn't something she wanted to discuss.

"Anywhere you want. We can talk about anything, Heather. Whatever you want."

Heather sighed deeply; Her tears were threatening to fall at any moment and she did not want him to see her cry again.

"I'll admit, I'm not okay; That's very clear. But I don't know how to help myself," She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

Gil nodded slowly. "Okay. What would you say about visiting a psychiatrist?"

Heather considering this option for a moment. "W-would that help me?"

"I don't know. Some psychiatrists specialize in… victims such as yourself," Gil replied.

Heather saw for the first time; It was evident in his eyes. He was uncomfortable around her. Had she not noticed it before? Or had she seen in, and had chosen to ignore it?

The bigger question was why was he uncomfortable?

"Is it awkward to be around me?" Heather asked.

Gil furrowed his brows; He didn't want to confess that he felt a bit odd around her. Not because of anything she had done, but because she didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way. He wanted her to feel welcome, but at the same time he wanted her to know he wouldn't let his feelings show. He loved her; But she couldn't know. Not right this moment, anyway.

"No. I mean, a little, but… no, it's not," Gil mumbled.

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

"I have all night," Heather shot back. Her emotions were visible through her eyes; Anger and confusion.

"I can't tell you; Not now. Please, let's just get back to what we started," Gil half pleaded.

"No! I'm sick of being excluded from everything because I was raped!" Heather shouted.

After yelling this statement, she gasped. For the first time, she had said it aloud. She had been raped. It wasn't a nightmare she couldn't get out of her mind; It had really happened.

One tear fell from each eye; She knew that had been the first step to healing. Acknowledging what had happened; And whether it was true or her mind was playing tricks on her, she felt slightly better.

Heather didn't attempt to stop the tears that were falling; The few inches between her and Gil were closed as she collapsed into his arms. He stroked her hair as she sobbed, then a thought crossed his mind that made him see that this meeting of sorts hadn't been fruitless.

The healing had begun.