Catherine watched the temperature gauge in the Denali as it reached 137, but she didn’t really see it. Her mind was lost in memories. Painful memories, the kind that most people tried to forget; the ones she could never forget.

She sat, trying to imagine what that infant felt as he lay dying in the hot, stifling air. She was grateful that he had fallen asleep, hopefully before the heat claimed his life. The tears rolled down her cheeks, mingling with the sweat. After a few minutes, she knew what she had to do and she opened the door and welcomed the cooler air.

“Cooler,” Catherine muttered as she wiped the sweat and tears off of her face. “Never thought I’d say that about Vegas.” She climbed out and walked briskly back into the CSI building, her head high and her shoulders straight, but her heart and soul black with sorrow.

She walked to Gil’s office and knocked briskly, opening the door without waiting for a bid to enter, just like she always did. That he would be upset, seriously, over her interruption of his meditation never occurred to her. It never did upset him, nothing she did upset him and at times she felt guilty about that, but usually it gave her a sense of power, something that she would readily admit that she liked. It was normal, an unchanging part of her life, like their friendship.

“I need to take a few days off,” she began, rooting through his filing system for the request, completely unaware of her red rimmed eyes or that her shirt stuck to her skin.

“I thought you went home?” Gil glanced up from some papers, watching her move with a fluid grace that he would forever associate with her. When she turned to him, he saw her eyes and knew that she had been crying. “Are you okay?”

“I should be back Friday at the latest,” she informed him, ignoring his question as she scrawled the dates on the form. She handed it to him and for the first time, locked eyes with his. For a brief second she hesitated, hesitated and almost told him. But her experiences reminded her that it was better to hold her tongue on this and she changed her mind. “Thank you, Gil.”

Gil watched as she straightened and walked out of his office without a backward glance. That she wasn’t alright was obvious to him and after years of knowing her, he knew instinctively that it wasn’t the case she just solved. Whatever was bothering her went way deeper than that and once again, he found himself pondering her past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catherine stowed her carryon in the overhead luggage bin and wearily flopped down into her window seat on the plane. In a few short hours she would be landing at SeaTac and then she would get a good night’s sleep, she hoped, and visit someone she hadn’t visited in over ten years. She took a deep breath and fastened the seatbelt, praying that she would have the two seats next to her open the entire time. This was something she had to do alone. She had been alone then, and she was alone now. It was the way it was supposed to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catherine stood in the misty rain. ‘Seattle Sunshine’ people optimistically and jokingly called it, and stared down at the tiny grave at her feet. The tears mixed with the rain on her face and she knelt, not caring that the knees of her designer pants were getting wet and muddy. There was a time when she couldn’t even afford K-Mart jeans, her clothes came from the Goodwill or the Salvation Army. But those times were long gone, as was her life here in Seattle. Gone like the soul of the person who now rested in a wet, cold grave in the Pacific Northwest.

She reached forward and brushed at the leaves and dirt that obscured the small headstone, angry that she had let life keep her away so long. Glad that the little cemetery had a caretaker’s hut that was left unlocked, she used the tools to cut away the weeds and remove the debris from the grave, making it look, again, like someone cared. It didn’t take her long; someone had obviously tended this site in recent years. Idly, she wondered if it had been Eric, but dismissed that thought almost as soon as it crossed her mind.

After a few minutes she sat back and wiped at her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I haven’t been here in years.” She traced the letters lovingly. “I’ve missed you so much and there hasn’t been ONE day that I haven’t thought about you, loved you. I know you’re safe, that you’re happy; I have to believe that, but I want you here with me. I need you here with me.” Her voice broke and she looked up at the gray, crying sky. Crying like her heart, her soul. It was fitting that this was in Seattle, that the weather fit the reason for her visit perfectly. She leaned forward and kissed the curved granite. “I love you, Baby. I’ll come back and see you tomorrow.”

She pushed herself up and gathered the tools, taking them back to the small wooden hut, before walking back to her car. This time her shoulders were slumped and her chin down, the weight of the memories and her broken heart upon her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The figure watched her leave, feeling like he was betraying a confidence, trouncing on something sacred and private. He watched as she drove off in the red rental and then walked over to the grave. His eyes clouded and he felt the completely unaccustomed pricking of tears.

Joshua James Reynolds

Beloved Son

August 21, 1979 ­ October 26, 1979

A Brief Glimpse of Heaven; Forever loved, Forever Remembered

Now he knew her secret, the part of her past that she kept so hidden. And with that knowledge came the fleeting wish that he hadn’t known. That he hadn’t been worried and hadn’t followed her. This was something that she obviously didn’t want to share and certainly not with him. Catherine had an infant son, one that died when he was three months old. She had been seventeen, so young to experience such a deep loss and his heart broke for her. He noticed the date and realized just why the case had affected her so deeply; it was the anniversary of her son’s death.

Gil Grissom wiped away tears and headed to his own car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~