Author's Note: The first CSI fic I've ever shared with the world. The first time I've ever written in the second person. The first time I've written angst. Inspired by Snow Patrol's Make this Go On Forever and written for all whom this affects.

This splintered mast I'm holding on won't save me long

Sitting on the edge of that bed with a makeshift SAE kit in your purse and a cellphone in your hand, only one question filters through your mind, What do I do now? Logically you should call the crime lab. You meet victims more often than you'd care to admit. Victims of the same heinous act. Victims that were strong enough to call the police. To make sure the monster that violated them is found. You can't bring yourself to do the same.

You tell yourself it's because you know how often these guys are actually convicted. You know how much pain the victims go through - you've witnessed it. You even admit to yourself you fear the embarrassment. You know most of the crime lab and police department. They're your friends. You couldn't burden them with this and you couldn't have them all know you'd been a victim. It was hard enough four years ago with Eddie. The looks and the sympathy hurt more than the fact that your ex-husband and the father of your child had been killed.

Deep down you know it's because you couldn't stand the look in his eyes. He judged you so harshly the last time your social life got you into bother. Made you feel like a naughty child. Made you hate yourself for weeks. You can't bear to hate yourself over this. This was not your fault and you refuse to feel like it was. Still you're scared that telling him would make you feel that way. You know you could never stand the disappointment in his eyes. Not when you're already this fragile. This broken.

Your mind drifts to guilt and images of the night before flash into your mind. Nicky. Poor Nick can't know either. He'd never forgive himself. He'd beat himself up about it and no matter how much you explained that you're a big girl and can handle yourself, he'd still punish himself. Always the gentleman, Nicky. There's no way you could let him deal with this.

From Nicky, the natural progression is Warrick. The man you thought you could have a future with. Maybe a few years back you could have confided in him about this, but not now. Not with his marriage and your confessions and, just no. He wont be your shoulder to cry on this time. He has another woman to be there for.

Another woman. Sara. You could easily call Sara. She'd understand. She's a woman, she's preprogrammed to understand. You know you're hardly best friends but in a crisis, you could definitely depend on Sara. So why are you hesitating? Why don't you want to call Sara? She didn't really mean those comments about using your sexuality to get what you wanted.. did she? Can you be one hundred percent certain that she would understand? That she wouldn't go off and tell someone, Grissom. Of course she'd tell Grissom. You can hear her now, "It's for the best Catherine. He'll find out anyway." No. Not yet, he won't. Nor will Sara.

You snap open your cellphone and dial the only number you have left. It picks up almost instantly. "Sanders."

"Greg, hi." You greet, relaxing at the sound of his voice.

"Catherine? I there a case?"

"What? No, no. I mean - Greg, do you think you could get the DNA lab to yourself for a couple of hours?" Greg seems confused now.

"Uh, I think so? What's up Cat?" You let the nickname you hate, slide.

"I have a few things you need to test. Without it being advertised to the whole lab." Now he seems worried.

"Cath? What's happened?"

"No- nothing. I'll talk to you when I get there. And Greg, this is between you and me." You finish, hanging up before he can reply.

Now, to get out of here.