Heres the next part. Italics are thoughts during conversations, just to keep it easy to follow.

I don't own CSI

It wouldn't be that hard
It couldn't be that hard.
It wasn't like she hadn't done it before.
Just walk up to him, sit down and do it. Stop acting like he's not here.
She'd interrogated murderers, rapists and serial killers, sometimes she even got them to confess. Why was talking to a nine year old boy so frightening.
Because he was dying. There was something about terminally ill children. They scare you. They awaken something in you that you would have been perfectly happy to ignore. A sense of mortality? Maternal instincts? Let sleeping dogs lie, don't talk to sick kids, or you wont be able to sleepat night.

"Hey Joey." She suddenly became aware of her surroundings again, while talking herself into walking over, she must have alreadydone it. Joey was sitting at her breakfast bar, she didn't have a table, eating toast that Claire had made him before going to take a shower. He looked pretty good today. There were nodarkcircles around his eyes. He was happy, laughing at the Garfeild comics in the newspaper. His gorgeous dark green eyes matched his sweater, and his mothers eyes. His dark aurburn hair stood out in contrast to his pale skin, but he wasn't sickly pale, just red haired kid pale, well today anyway. A few nights ago had been a different story.

"Hey." He looked up at her.

"Do you remember me?" Please say no. Not really, only a little.

"Of course mama." Shit, he didn't forget. He called me mama. She couldn't help but smile at him. "You left us."

"I had to." Keep it simple.

"Why?" Or not. At least be honest.

"I didn't wanna hurt you guys." She spoke softly, gently, she didn't want to scare him.

"You never hurt me." No. I just gave you a terminal illness.

"I hurt your mom." He finally made eye contact with her.

"She was sad when you left." He didn't look happy any more. Sara closed her eyes for a moment.

"I didn't mean to make her sad."

Claire watched silently from the hall as Sara tried to explain her actions to Joey. She was doing ok, but it was hard to explain violence to kid, especially a kid who didn't have time for it. Claire remembered the day he got infected. Sara was in the kitchen with Joey and Mike and another man. Mike had seemed scared, an oddity in itself. She couldn't hear most of what they had said though, just fragments back and forth between Sara and Mike.

"No...just go...I..." Sara was talking in an angry whisper.

"I...just...please Sara..."

"...happening in my house...go!" Claire didn't know if Mike had planned on leaving or not, because he had never got the chance. Two men burst through the front door and into the living room where Claire was. They hadn't bothered hiding their faces. Both were tall with black hair, though one had curls and the other had shaved it very close to his head. Other then that every thing else seemed similar. Both had light pasty skin, addict skin, and dark eyes. Both were thin. The man with the shaved head had a large knife, the other a gun.

"Where is he!" screamed shaved head. Claire didn't reply. He moved quickly to where she was sitting andbefore she knew it he had his knife under her chin. He spoke slowly, angrily. "Where is he?" Before Claire could reply Mike came into the living room.

"Well lookit what we got here." The guy with the curls was speaking, he sounded high.From this point no more wordswere spoken, everybody, including Sara seemed to know the story, why the two men were breaking into their home, and why theywould not leave without hurting someone.The only thing Claire remembered after that was the blood, Sara's bloodflowing into Joeys. However much Claire loved Sara, her blood was likepoison. A deadly liquid which Claire was unable to stop from eventually killing her son.

There you go please review.