A/N Hey all! I hope everyone has their thinking caps on because this chapter is going to confuse the hell out of you! I think I should stop writing this, it's becoming very incoherent! Enjoy (yeah right!)

Grissom had been on his way to the lab. He had just kept on walking from Maggie's house, but must have taken a wrong turn. Now he was standing at an intersection somewhere near the All Saints Church High School – reading the newspaper cutting over and over again must have made him think about this address instead, so he'd ended up here.

"What if no one likes me?"

"Honey, everyone is going to love you! Trust me, you will be fine."

"Can't we just go home? I don't really need to go to school."

It was Iris' first day at West Las Vegas Elementary School. The previous night, she had been so worried and had tried, and failed, to convince her mother and father that she was ill. Then that morning at about six o'clock, she had woken up and got dressed all by herself, and with her bag on her back had walked into Maggie's bedroom and declared that she was ready for school. Now it seemed her nerves had returned. And Gil was having a difficult time trying to persuade her that she had nothing to worry about. His own school days had been less that pleasant, and he had dreaded the day that she would start Big Girl School for weeks now. But the day had finally arrived. Iris was growing up so fast, and before he knew it she would be getting ready to leave the house for her first day of high school...

In the dark, the school looked a lot different to what Gil would have imagined. There were no pupils there now, for one thing, so the place had an eery empty feeling, like an old abandoned warehouse or house. Also a bit like the morgue. There were no cars parked out front with parents dropping off their kids. No chatter of friends greeting each other, of teenage gossip.

Looking at the big building looming over him, he could imagine dropping Iris off here on her first day, being one of many other parents worrying and reliving their own nightmarish high school days. 'She would be one of the pretty popular girls,' Gil concluded, 'But she'd also be one of the smart ones. Whichever personality trait she would choose to let shine through would be entirely up to her.' He just hoped she would be settled, and happy. And that she wouldn't have her heart broken by some dumb Neanderthal-like boy. And if, heaven forbid, that ever did happen, Gil would be there, sitting on the edge of her bed with his arm round her shoulder, offering all of the comforting words he could muster from within himself. His own mother had been of great comfort to him in many ways when he was in high school (and after Iris went missing – he was surprised at this, as he had half expected his own mother to side with Maggie and blame him), so he wouldn't really have much of an idea of what to say in that kind of situation. Perhaps offer his credit card and tell her to go buy a nice new pair of shoes.

He would be the best Dad she could want. He'd attend all her plays and recitals, and sports games, and he'd help her with her science fair entry. As she got older, he would be their to cheer her on at Junior High and High School graduation ceremonies, and then he would be the uncool Dad she wouldn't want, taking lots of photos of her before she left for her senior prom, grilling her date, perhaps even going so far as to run a background check on him at work, make sure he wasn't going to put Iris in danger. But Grissom had already done that, already ruined what could have been. He would never get to do any of those things now. He had thought about the things he had missed out on as his niece Holly, born three months before his own daughter, reached all of those vital milestones. The first time Holly had come home drunk, her mother, Grissom's sister, had grounded her for two months and barely let her out of her sight. Gil had his own ideas on how she should have tackled the problem, but never talked about Iris to anyone, so didn't mention his theories on parenting. At this present moment, he wasn't even sure how many people knew that he even had a daughter – Catherine knew, they had worked together since around the time that Iris had gone missing. Doc Robbins had remembered an article in the newspaper about her disappearance, and had very tactfully asked if Gil was the same Gil Grissom from the story. And Ecklie. Ecklie had been less tactful, he had just used his 'interview' voice, offered his condolences and then went back to kissing the ass of the lab's director at that time, a nice man named Jacob Rabien. His face reminded Gil very of his father – wrinkles around the eyes, grey stubble on his chin and a little bald spot on the crown of his head. As a boy, Gil had always called his father's bald spot his mirror, because it always reflected the light no matter where he was. At that moment, he reached up subconsciously and felt for a spot of his own. There was definitely one forming, and he wondered if Iris, who would now be almost eighteen years old, would be embarrassed that her dad was so old. He wasn't cool like other dads, he had a job that left him very little free time and he was grumpy in the mornings (and the evenings for that matter).

Looking back up from the newspaper clipping he held in his trembling hands, Gil focussed his eyes on the school once more. The sun was coming up now and it cast a fuzzy orange glow over the skyline and could be seen above the roof of the building. It was four in the morning, and in another three hours teachers and other staff would start arriving. Was he still going to be standing here then? What was he going to do now?

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Grissom let himself in his own front door to his own house. It felt so strange to be back there – he felt like he had been on a jungle trek for a few months. The place seemed to have changed somewhat, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But perhaps it was him that had changed. After all, he had resigned himself to the fact that his daughter, his baby girl, was dead and had died a long time ago. That was until a few hours ago. Now he was facing the prospect that Iris was, in fact, alive and was still living in the local area. Whoever had taken her was obviously either not too bright or was living dangerously and had been waiting for all those years for the police to show up on the doorstep and arrest them. Gil had always had faith in the police, until they couldn't find his daughter, but that faith had been restored when he began to realise how hard they worked to get the solution that they wanted. And now, he felt all his admiration leaving him and being replaced by rage. Iris could have been under their noses all this time and the police hadn't even realised. He also felt guilt that he hadn't even realised, hadn't been able to rescue his little girl from the monster that took her.

He put the newspaper cuttings on the modern wood and glass table in the hall, next to the phone and a haphazard pile of junk mail. He made a habit of recycling the pile every week, but recently he had just walked past it on the way in and out of the house and chosen to ignore it. He then walked towards the archway into the kitchen, but halfway he turned back to make sure the cuttings hadn't grown legs and walked away, or a sudden gust of wind had come from nowhere and blown them away – if he lost them, he would have lost the only link he had to Iris, to knowing where she was, to knowing the truth.

Gil walked straight through the kitchen and carried on until he got to his bedroom. The thought of food made him feel sick, so he decided to try and see if he could get some sleep. Flopping down on his bed, he already knew he wouldn't be able to shut his eyes without seeing Iris' face or imagining some kind of scenario that could have happened to her over the past eighteen years.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Dad, pass the peanut butter, would ya?"

Reaching across the table, Gil grabbed the jar, which was sticky to the touch, and passed it to his daughter. She smiled in gratitude and started spreading it thickly on her toast, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulders as she did so. It caught the light from the fixture on the ceiling and hung halfway down her back. Gil was shocked at how much she looked like her mother had when they first started dating. This thought made him remember about Iris' date tonight. Jake Thomson. She didn't tell Grissom about it, her mother did, after stumbling across her diary in her bedroom. Maggie also said they were going to see a movie and then go for a pizza. 'Over my dead body,' was the first thing that came to Gil's mind, 'She's too young to date.' He had always promised himself he would be a cool, relaxed kind of dad, but now, here he was, worrying about his eighteen year old daughter going out with an eighteen year old boy – man – when he had been doing so well and had even managed to control the rage brewing inside him when she came home with a ring through her navel.

A shrill ringing rattled his thoughts. Iris was looking at him now, a puzzled look on her face. Grissom felt his expression mirror hers...

The he jolted awake. His cell phone on the beside cabinet had woken him from a dream of Iris. She was a teenager now, and Gil could see just how beautiful she was.

He leaned across to where it was vibrating and making a pot of pennies that he kept by the lamp rattle, and picked it up. Pressing the 'answer' button, he was relieved when the ringing finally stopped.

"Hello?" In his sleep-fogged mind, he barely heard the voice on the other end of the line. It was only when he heard what it was saying that he was forced awake, but wished he could go back to sleep.

"Grissom? You there? It's Catherine, where are you? It's nine-thirty..."

"Oh my gosh, I...I'm sorry, I was sleeping."

"Are you sick?"

"Um...Yeah. I don't think I'm going to make it in today."

"OK, you don't sound too good, anyway. I'll speak to you later."

Gil said goodbye and hung up. He wasn't ill, he just needed today to find his daughter. Getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom, he tried to figure out a plan. Sure, he could go to the school again and show everyone the newspaper article and ask to be directed to the volleyball coach. Or, his more reckless side thought, he could go to the school, flash his crime lab ID and demand someone tell him where his daughter had been all those years.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

He was back outside All Saints Church High School, where he had been just four hours earlier. Students were beginning to file in through the main entrance now, and the sun was reflected from behind him where he stood on the pavement onto the row of windows that ran across the front of the whole building.

'This is ludicrous,' he thought to himself, 'I haven't seen her in years, how am I going to know what she looks like?'

But that was when he saw her. Walking towards him from across the street with three other girls, laughing with them. It was suddenly as if no time had ever passed. Iris looked just the same – same bright green eyes, same dark brown, almost black hair, same beaming grin. She caught his gaze as the group passed by, and Gil realised her was staring. But she carried on walking, and before he knew it he was staring at her back. She had gotten so tall. She was so beautiful, she could be a model. Gil imagined she had a boyfriend, was popular, possibly a cheerleader. She seemed popular – as the group of giggling girls had reached the front steps of the school, they were met by two more girls and five boys. He bet one was dating her, and suddenly felt very protective. He felt like running over and rescuing her, like he hadn't been able to do all those years ago...

He shouted out to her.