A/N: This chapter is dedicated to TheseFilthyHands, who gave me a lovely review, which got me to write another chapter. I'll post another today as well, while the inspiration is fresh.

Gil had never realized just how little seniors got to see the freshman, and if it weren't for the few minutes between classes, he was fairly certain he wouldn't have been able to notice that Heather was nowhere to be found. His work in the office proved his theory – she wasn't at school.

By the seventh day of this, he wasn't the only one worried.

He'd been seated in his uncomfortable chair in the file room, flicking through them in silence, focusing entirely on them to keep the gnawing thoughts of that certain freshman from his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he saw the defeated look in her eyes… haunting him. What had happened to her? She was a fairly strong girl, he could tell, so it must have taken something-

Clearing his throat, he shook his head. Focus, Gil. The files.

"Hey Gil?" One of the secretaries called to him, and he looked up after a moment, almost surprised to see her standing there. At his silence, she went on. "Do you know what happened with Heather? Is she alright?"

"I don't know her, ma'am." He replied – and it was the sad truth. He didn't know her, and he was worried sick about her and her absence.

"Oh… you two seemed to know each other when she was in here, so I just assumed… Is there any way you could find out where we need to send her file to?"

Send her file? Why were they getting rid of…

"She transferred schools?" He asked, feeling hurt though he hadn't a clue why.

"We received a letter today from her father that said she wasn't going to be attending school anymore." She held up a piece of paper, but didn't offer it to Gil. He understood that it was private, but there was a gnawing curiosity to see if there was a reason.

"I didn't know. I don't know… anything about it, I'm sorry." She merely nodded and disappeared from the doorway, leaving the young man to sit there, staring at where she had been. A rug had been ripped out from under him, but he didn't remember stepping onto it.

Moving on autopilot, he rose, and the files he'd been sorting were forgotten. He had a purpose… he had to find her file before they got rid of it. He'd find her address and stop by after school and figure out why she had dropped out.

--

The house was exactly like the car he had seen her father driving. Painted up to look gorgeous, but Gil Grissom was not an idiot. He knew that looks were horrendously deceiving, and judging by the near garishness of the way the porch was decorated, the truths of this house were more terrifying than even he wanted to know.

But, slowly, he moved up the white stairs to the porch. There were chairs and a big glass table, covered in a tablecloth, and plants. So many plants. Lining the half-wall that kept you from falling off the porch, a huge centerpiece on the table… everywhere.

A hand rose to the screen door, which was painted white to match the floor of the porch(which bore no evidence of footprints, meaning it was cleaned daily), and after the slightest hesitation, he hit his knuckles against it three times.

Seconds dragged by like eternities, and while he waited, he became distracted by a spider that was crawling up the wall next to the door. Too distracted, actually, to notice that the white lace curtain that covered the window of the door had been swept aside slightly, and a pair of eyes had focused on him, then the curtain had dropped back down.

The door opened, and there she was, her pale face made all the more fragile looking by the darkness of the house behind her. It was the middle of the afternoon, but all of the windows were covered in white lace, and no lights were on at all.

"Gil," she muttered, and he was completely at a loss for what emotion it was. Shock, he assumed, that he knew where she lived, or maybe even anger that he had actually come by. Afterall, he hadn't the permission, nor the right, to invade her privacy like this.

His lips hung open for a moment, and then he pushed them shut, clearing his throat slightly, blue eyes flicking back to the spider as though it would turn and tell him what to say. It didn't, and the silence stretched on.

"Gil?"

"You dropped out." He blurted, raising his gaze to hers, and she frowned, nodding, now unable to meet his eyes.

"I… It was necessary. Mandatory. My father- … Um. He needs me to take care of him."

"So you gave up on your education?" He was unable to keep the shock from his voice, and it made her look back up.

"Yes." It was not what he expected, and again, he had the sensation of a rug being ripped out from under him, leaving him helpless and lost and feeling stupid.

"Oh… um… well, I guess that's all I w-"

"No it isn't." She interrupted him, and when he met her eyes again, he found amusement there. "You wouldn't have dug up my file if you just wanted to know if I had dropped out or not. You don't know my last name, Gil, how long did it take you to find me?"

He stared, and she waited. A few little squeaks were all he could get out by way of a response, and she laughed softly. The sound was extremely calming, and when she let it die off, he became very aware of every other sound around them.

It startled him when the door made a little click, and he moved back as she stepped through, her gaze on him. The skirt she wore today brushed the floor and would have concealed her bare feet were it not for the fact that the design filtered down to transparency at the hem. It was black, but he was not surprised, and the her top was tight and black as well.

One of herhands rose and she took hold of his arm, leading him down the stairs and taking him around to the back of the house, where a vast garden grew. In minutes, they were lost in the maze of it, but Heather seemed to either know where they were going, or not care that he had no idea where they were.