AN: Sorry for the wait! But school started up again for me, which means my writing time is limited and I was on a trip last week. Actually, I thought that I would get a chance to write because of the trip, but instead two friends and I holed up in our room and watched episodes of House and CSI instead. So yeah, plans went down the drain. However, I have now finished! And I finish school in a few weeks anyway- though it isn't official till June, but whatever- which means more time then. Please be patient with me. :smiles: And thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing.

Chapter 7: Oblivion

"Beneath it all, desire of oblivion runs: despite the artful tensions of the calendar..."- Philip Larkin

He wasn't sure what he was expecting as he slowly opened the door. She could be livid at him; she could be shutting him out with her silence; she could throw herself at him and beg for more.

All right, he admitted, not the last one.

But when he opened the door, he certainly wasn't expecting to see her passed out in a heap on the floor.

His heart jumped into his throat and he stared at her prone form for a lifetime of moments. She looked…dead. Lifeless, with her hair splayed around her head, her face relaxed- dried tears still glinting on her cheeks. Her limbs limp and doll-like.

He hated seeing her like this.

Sara rarely, if ever, let her guard down. Even around him- even when their marriage had been strong and good- he had had to cajole and bribe and distract to get her to open up to him. This- this body lying on the floor- it wasn't Sara. It couldn't be Sara. Sara was strong and stable and didn't get so upset as to fall on the floor in a faint. At least he hoped that was what it was…

He forced himself out of his shock and ran over to her, dropping to his knees. Gingerly he brushed a lock of hair out of the way and placed his index and middle fingers over the pulse point in her neck. It was slow and steady and comforting. Slowly he leaned down and pressed his lips gently over it, closing his eyes in remembrance.

She used to come alive when he kissed that spot. She used to wrap her arms around him and lean into him and it would awaken him-awaken them both. Bring the feeling alive, the feelings that fuelled their intricate essence. They were two beings intertwined together through experiences and spirit and love.

And now…

What were they?

They weren't strangers- they couldn't ever be strangers. There was too much history behind them. And his feelings- no matter how much he tried to hide them- were as strong as they ever were. He couldn't just flip a switch and turn them off, unlike her. He couldn't be all impersonal and unfeeling like she could. He couldn't pretend that their family and past meant absolutely nothing-

He wasn't being fair. He knew he wasn't being fair. And the way she had reacted to their kiss earlier was proof that Sara wasn't in as much control as she would have liked- or pretended to be. She was being affected just like he was. And it meant…

What did it all mean?

Did they still have a chance?

Tragedy usually pulled families apart- yet it seemed as if it was slowly pulling the two of them together again. If that was even possible…

Their world was spinning out of control.

And he didn't know what to do about it.

He ran a hand through her silky hair, trying to focus on the situation at hand and what he should do. He wasn't a doctor, but he could guess that after all the emotion today, she had simply passed out. Calling the paramedics would do little for her- all she really needed was rest and, as Catherine had prescribed to him earlier, a change of clothes and tea- something she did occasionally drink.

Sighing, he awkwardly picked her up and carried her to the bed. He'd give her his bed and tuck her in and check on Eirik and then maybe, just maybe, he might not as hurt as much.

He was wrong.

He went through the motions as if nothing was wrong, but when he passed Lissy's room, he almost broke down once again. Her door was plain white and only adorned with a simple sign Nora had helped her make a year ago declaring it her room. He tried to move past it, but it held him with an invisible force, beckoning him to stay, to enter. And with reverence, he did, his palms wet, his throat dry, as he reached down and placed his hand on the handle, turning it slightly and creaking open the wooden barrier to Lissy's haven.

It was as if she never left.

He had been here earlier to fetch her blanket for Catherine, but at the time he had not stopped to think. He had hurriedly run in, grabbed it and left, not daring to dwell.

Now he had to.

He and Sara, back when they were happy, had allowed her to choose how her room was decorated. She was a six year-old, so they drew some lines, but generally they had allowed her to choose. Therefore the walls were pale blue, her bed was a twin with a picket fence as head and foot board (his sister Annika's husband had made the bed for her- he designed and created furniture) and the linens were bright and cheery. There were the normal dolls and girly play things, but there was also an ant farm, a children's computer with science programs and a microscope along with a periodic table and other various 'scientific' objects. It showed both sides of his daughter- the girly young lady and the tomboy scientist- and it made him miss her even more. He couldn't bear to think what it would be like if they actually lost her. Would they clean out the room, erasing Lissy's personal realm? Or would they just let it sit…a museum to the little mademoiselle who once captured their hearts and then was lost to them?

He walked ethereally into the room, standing in the middle. There was still a whiff of her present and he closed his eyes, bringing her before him. He was a scientist and logical and not one prone to believing in specters. Yet…

He could swear he saw her.

Her head was bowed over her 'bug book' and she was sounding out the names of the insects carefully, examining the pictures. She was wearing the same clothing she had been that morning, though she now sported a headband to keep the hair out of her eyes (definitely Nora's doing) and her jacket was missing. He took a step towards her- and she looked up.

His heart stopped when he saw her smile. It was the same as always- and yet completely different. Her eyes were twinkling and he couldn't help but smile back at her. There wasn't any logic to it all. She couldn't be there…but she was. He watched her turn back to her book and he had to shake his head in amusement at the way she twirled a strand of hair while reading. Just like her mother…

He sat down on the bed, her special quilt folded neatly next to her favorite stuffed Scooby Doo. Her backpack was sitting next to the bedside table and a book peaked out of it. Greg didn't need to lift the book to know what it was- Sara had given her a set of Boxcar Children books for Christmas and Lissy was in love with them. Greg lifted it out anyway, slowly smoothing the cover. The first book of the long series, it was now worn after many readings.

"Want me to read to you," he mumbled, eyes fixated on the cover.

He half expected an answer.

But when he looked up, the desk was empty and the book was on the shelf.

She was gone.

It felt like someone had shot him in the heart.

He laid the book on the bed and stood, clutching the headboard as he wavered on his feet. His headache was getting steadily worse and he knew that he needed sleep- soon.

He wouldn't let himself sleep.

To hell with his own health, Lissy was much more important. And from experience he knew that if he just ignored the dizziness and took some Tylenol for the headache, he'd be fine. Perhaps another cup of coffee as well, he added in his mind. It couldn't hurt.

Nothing could. He had already been hurt enough.

"Greg?" The sudden voice startled him so much that he fell back onto the bed. Hands on his temples, he peered up to see Brass standing in the door.

"You're back." He felt stupid for saying the obvious, but he wasn't sure how to react otherwise. Brass had scared the hell out of him.

"Yeah, have to interview Miss Jameson and need you downstairs. Sara should come too."

"No." he tried to clear his head and peered at him through half-closed eyes. "Don't- she's asleep and she needs it. I found her collapsed in the bedroom and put her to bed. I'm not going to allow her to be woken up unless it's an absolute emergency."

"Looks like you could use some sleep yourself."

He laughed bitterly at that. "Sure. When Lissy's back, I'll sleep for a week."

He ignored Brass' pointed look as he stood up and brushed past him downstairs. "Let's go then, while I'm half awake."

Nora had seemed to get a hold of her self, for her cheeks were dry. She still clutched a Kleenex however, and it was tangible proof that she wasn't as okay as she looked. Brass just raised his brows at Greg when they entered the room and he knew that the captain was probably wondering what such a…an eclectic woman was doing there.

Appearances can be very deceiving.

"She's great with the kids," Greg quietly answered. "And she has absolutely no record at all."

Brass just raised a brow.

"Miss Jameson, correct?" Brass moved to stand before her and Greg took a seat on the chair to the right. At her nod, he continued. "As you know, Lissy Sanders was kidnapped a few hours ago. She was kidnapped from Madison Park-"

"The one about twenty minutes away?" Nora interrupted. "We go there all the time. Lissy loves it there."

"Wait a minute." Brass turned to stare at Greg. "Sara told me it was the first time they had gone there."

Greg frowned. "Well, she's wrong. Like Nora said, Lissy and Eirik like the park- I know Nora takes them there a lot and I take them there as well occasionally. Actually," he paused and thought for a second, "Sara might have been right. I don't think Sara's ever taken them there. So she probably didn't know that they were there often."

"Sara said that it was Lissy's idea…" Brass checked his notes. "Miss Jameson-"

"Nora," she interrupted again, smiling.

"Nora, then. Nora, how often do you take the children there?"

She fiddled with her charms again, thinking. "Several times a week, usually. I don't mind driving them there."

"Do you have a specific time you go?" Brass continued. Greg sat back to listen.

"No…well, not usually. But since school got out, we've been going in the morning. Usually from about ten till noon or one."

"Daily?"

"Yes, though we did miss one day this week. But other than that- it keeps them entertained, active and they have fun. And I like being in nature- it cleanses." Greg could see Brass roll his eyes at the last comment, but the importance was in her earlier comments.

There was a pattern.

He had had no idea that the children visited the park daily with Nora, and neither did Sara. It opened an entire new dimension into the investigation- all someone needed to do was to observe the park for the last week, to see the pattern. Though Sara was with them instead of Nora, the children would still be easily spotted.

Which meant that it was premeditated.

Why?

What did they want with her? He couldn't fathom why they would take her. He knew that kidnappers had different motives, he knew that kidnappings weren't always personal and he knew that there were also some really sick and twisted people out there.

Yet he still thought it was his fault.

Survivor's guilt. Sort of. Lissy wasn't dead- he knew that. Forget the evidence- he could feel that she was still alive. She had to be. But alive or not, his little girl was still gone and he didn't know if she would ever come back. And that… in a way, it amounted to the same thing, didn't it? He was left behind and she was away and God, it was all his fault…

"Greg." He shook his head to clear his mind. Nora and Brass were both starting at him with concern, and he could feel the moisture on his cheeks- evidence of tears. This was just so…so…

He couldn't go on.

He couldn't- he couldn't deal with this. He was trying to be strong, but, no matter what he did- every new thing they learned- it was just another blow to his already fragile mental state.

He was a CSI- he worked cases like this daily. He shouldn't be so affected, but- damn it, it was his daughter and his fault and he should have been home earlier… Grissom had given him the option of signing out before Nick and he got called onto their next case- the very one before the kidnapping. If he hadn't stayed on, he wouldn't have been on that case and he would have been home by nine and would have taken the kids himself, instead of having Sara do it.

And you would have asked them what they wanted to do, and Lissy would have asked to go to the park, his mind contradicted.

They'd still be in the same situation.

Fate was a bitch.

"I-" He gasped for air. "I-" He swallowed, nearly choking. The tears stung his eyes, he felt their pity-filled gazes upon him. He had to get control of himself, somehow. He had to.

He had to find Lissy.

"I'll be fine," he finally whispered. "I- it just hits me sometimes…"

"You want water or something?" Brass motioned towards to one of the officers. "Or maybe you should leave the room-"

"No." He asserted. "I need to be in on this, Brass."

He could feel Brass check him over with his eyes. But he kept silent and finally the older man nodded and turned back to Nora.

"Describe an average day to me."

"Well, that's kind of hard, sir." Nora laughed nervously. "We don't really have a routine…it all depends on Mr. and Mrs. Sanders' schedules and when I'm needed."

Greg nodded when Brass turned to him. Nora was right- they didn't really have a set routine. Double and triple shifts as well as overtime were completely normal- and not things you could really tell before a case.

"Did you have the children yesterday?" He asked instead.

"Yes, I did. And I've had them every night this week, for Mr. Sanders' normal hours. Occasionally, depending on his schedule, I end up staying longer, or coming earlier. And occasionally Mrs.…" She hesitated there and turned to Greg. "Is it still Mrs. Sanders? I meant to ask, but I never seem to remember." But before he could answer, she continued. "She'll take them, but not that often. Usually it's me."

"My day- or night, really- starts at nine pm, when I arrive. Lissy is never in bed by then- she has a bedtime of ten, but Eirik is often already asleep. I stay till about six or seven am, depending on when Mr. Sanders gets back. I get Lissy ready for bed if Mr. Sanders hasn't done it yet, and I always read to her and check on Eirik. I feed Tat, straighten up a bit, feed and let out Aslan, check on things. Then I'll read, watch TV, do homework or sleep- either on the couch in the guest room." She took a breath and then continued. "I wake up when Mr. Sanders gets home. Sometimes I stay for breakfast, sometimes I take off. When I do end up staying, I usually end up getting Lissy ready for school. Then I'll leave."

"But you stayed later today." Brass added.

"Right," she smoothed her skirt, and Greg could easily tell from her body language that she was more nervous than she let on, "it's been that way for the last…well, the last months, really. With Mr. Sanders working nights and, um, Mrs. Sanders moved out, I'm here whenever Mr. Sanders can't be- like when he's working late. Especially with Lissy out of school for the summer- I spend a lot of time with the kids."

"You said you did homework occasionally. You're in College?"

"Yes, I am. But I only take a couple of classes, one in the evening, one midmorning." She played with her necklace again and Greg knew from previous conversations that the charms symbolized different things and the one she was currently holding was for protection. "I'm a Mythology major with a minor in Anthropology- I've been working on the degree for the last five years. I'll have my Bachelor next semester."

"Do you have any other jobs?" And then, before she could answer, Brass continued. "And doesn't it get tiring, watching two kids all the time? How long have you been their sitter?"

Greg recognized the tactic- throw questions at the witness to confuse them and get them to screw up. So it wasn't surprising that he was getting rather annoyed at Brass for trying the tactic on a woman he trusted.

Nora maintained her composure. "Yes, sometimes. I'm on call for a few people- run errands and stuff. People who are sick, can't leave their house, are too busy… I signed up at UNLV- it's a decent job and not very time consuming. But this job is my main job. And no, it doesn't get tiring. I like kids and I wish I had siblings. Lissy and Eirik are great kids, Detective. And I've been their sitter for most of their lives. I took the job at nineteen and I'm twenty-five now."

"I'm not even going to bother running her," Brass finally said, turning to Greg. "I assume you've already done that."

Greg shrugged and sent Brass a shaky smile. "Of course, before we hired her."

"Figures." Nora just watched them confusedly, before Brass turned back to her. "These other jobs- what happens when you get one while you're with Lissy and Eirik?"

"No, never." She looked insulted. "I just tell them to call someone else, because I'm already working. I'm a professional, sir."

Brass ignored her injured tone, like Greg knew he would. "Start with last night and go into detail about everything that you did with the children."

She made eye contact with him, and he nodded slightly. Sighing, she began. "I got here at nine. Aslan had gotten into the fridge, so Mr. Sanders was cleaning it up. Lissy was watching Prince Caspian with Eirik. I said hello to the kids and helped clean up the fridge. Mr. Sanders ran to the store to by necessities before he had to leave for work and I watched the movie with the kids. He got back, grabbed his stuff and left for work after saying bye to the children. The movie ended, I put Eirik to bed, put the food away and then put Lissy to bed. Then I read a book, watched the news and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up at six with a call from him that he'd be home in about an hour. I changed my clothes, grabbed something to eat, read some more. He got home, but couldn't stay long. He was only home for about half an hour before a call came in and he had to hurry to a scene. He called Mrs. Sanders and arranged that she would take the children from nine till two, so I could go home, get some things done. After he finished the call, we spent the next twenty minutes searching for Lissy's shirt that she had to wear today. We found the shirt, he left. I got the children breakfast and all ready and Mrs. Sanders picked them up at nine. I left." She looked Brass in the eyes. "It wasn't the most exciting day ever, but fairly normal. Except for calling Mrs. Sanders, that's how pretty much every day this last week has gone."

"So you spend every day with the family, correct?" Greg frowned in confusion as Brass changed the topic. Hadn't they already covered that? And though in a normal interview this would be commonplace, well, they didn't need to cover that base again here.

"That's right, sir." Nora wrung her hands in her lap. "It's a good job and I enjoy it."

"Have you ever considered it more than a job?" Brass shot back. Nora stared at him.

"I don't know what you mean…" She trailed off, stopping the motion of her hands. "I love the kids. It's fun and I enjoy doing it, and it's just a plus that I get paid for doing it. And Mr. and Mrs. Sanders are great people."

"Would you like it to be more than just a job?" Greg was beginning to get an idea of where Brass was going, and he didn't like it.

"I don't understand…"

Brass began to pace slightly. "Let me tell you what it seems like. You're a young, pretty thing, intelligent and independent. Yet you spend all your spare time working with two kids. You already said you end up sleeping here a lot. It wouldn't take much more for you to move in, would it? Greg and Sara are rarely home- especially now with the divorce. I'd say you're probably more the primary caregiver than either of them. So, let's say, you decide you want more. Hey, I wouldn't blame you. You're already like Eirik and Elisabeth's second mom. Hell, you're more their mom than their real mom and-"

"That's enough."

Greg stood up from the chair, shaking in fury. "That's going way too far, Jim. Way too fucking far. How dare you even think what you're suggesting?" It was one thing to drill Nora about the children and their routine. That was completely ordinary and expected. But to start in about his and Sara's failed relationship, their parenting abilities and hint that Nora might be more than 'just' the baby-sitter-that was over the top. There was no reason why Brass had to go there.

"Sit down, Greg." Brass kept his tone even. "If you can't handle this line of questioning, leave the room. But I have to ask."

"Oh, so you have to accuse me of sleeping with the nanny? That's really relative, since you sure as hell know it isn't true." He clenched his shirt, fighting back the urge to punch the older man. Punching out a friend is never a good idea- and punching out a friend who also happened to be a police captain in front of three other officers while the captain is investigating your daughter's kidnapping is even worse. He doubted Brass would press charges, but…

Best to keep his temper in control.

No matter how tempting it might be.

"Leave, Greg." Brass remained neutral. "You shouldn't even be in this interview in the first place, but I made the exception. Don't make me regret it."

"That's rich. I told you- I already checked her out before Sara and I even thought of hiring her. She has no record, has never had charges filed against her and doesn't even have a parking ticket. The only thing she's guilty of is taking good care of my kids, because- as you already pointed out- neither Sara's or my schedule really allows us to be around that much. Accusing her of anything else is just pointless and a complete waste of already limited time."

"Greg-"

"She already told you what was relevant- that Lissy and Eirik are at the park practically daily and therefore they very easily could have been watched and the kidnapping was pre-meditated. Why not go with that instead of creating foolish scenarios about illicit affairs?"

"Greg!" Brass shouted, finally stopping the man's angry tirade. "Leave. Now. Go."

The room fell silent. The officers were standing off to the side, hovering, unsure of what to do. Nora was ghostly pale on the couch, the black clothing making her seem even more wraith like. And he…

He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Closing his eyes, he scrunched up his face in…what, pain? Anger? Helplessness? He…he didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't know how to react, how to think, how to live anymore. It was…

Devastating.

That's all he could think of.

And with a strength that was completely foreign, he felt himself being half carried, half dragged out of the room on his own two feet- as if someone else had taken control of his body and was making him move.

He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to curl up in unconsciousness and have the world pass on by, leaving him alone. He wanted to fall into a hundred year sleep, like that famous fairy tale he couldn't remember the name of with the pounding that was going on in his head.

Chaos.

That's what it all was.

He was falling. Failing. Losing.

Losing consciousness.

Literally, he was losing consciousness. His legs gave out from under him and he belatedly realized that perhaps laying down earlier might have been a good idea. And even the arrival of Detective Sophia Curtis and Catherine with the proclamation that they had a suspect couldn't erase the blackness taking over his mind.

A suspect…

He fell into oblivion.