Catherine sits on the edge of the bed among the twisted sheets and tangled spread staring at the slit of light that runs across her middle of her feet. She rests her head in her hands, her eyes ache from crying and her head balloons. She has been trying for the last ten minutes to get her boots on, but leaning forward even an inch further makes her dizzy with pressure. She can hear Gil downstairs making coffee. Every rattle sounds like a mini explosion and her body rocks with aftershocks. She takes a deep breath sucking in between her teeth and sighs trying to convince herself to be brave "just get the damn things on, throw on a cap, slap on a happy face, and get the hell out of here before you completely fall apart girl" she finds she is whispering this, willing herself to move.

Downstairs, Gil pours water into the coffee maker spilling it all over his counter. His hands are shaking, he resists throwing the carafe across the room. He feels a knot forming at the base of his neck matching the one in his stomach. His chest heaves unevenly with each breath. He can sense the feeling creeping back, the dullness the emotional numbing. He rubs his neck and stares blankly at the coffee maker as if it were some foreign object. He realizes he hasn't flipped it on.

Upstairs, Catherine reaches for her boots and spies Gil's tee-shirt. She grabs it and lifts it to her face rubbing his scent across her cheeks, breathing him in she wipes her tears on it and throws it across the room, it hits the wall and tumbles into a trash can. This makes her smile a little. She can feel the self ­anger rising in her stomach. She straightens her back telling herself she is not some lovesick teenager-or some victim- "I don't need this" she declares in to herself, and "What in the hell was I thinking" she toys with being angry with him for a few seconds but lacks the defenses to go there so instead she quickly pulls on her boots tucks her hair behind her ears and throws on a base ball cap, and plastering on her best smile she steps into the all to bright white of his living room.

"Hey" she says, looking around for her purse.

"Cath" he says, softly, handing her a cup of coffee.

She sips it, "bitter" she says, telling herself "I didn't mean to say that out loud".

"Sorry" he says thinking I lost track of how much coffee I put in the damn thing. "Sugar" he suggests. "I'm out of milk" he adds apologetically.

"No, thanks" She says flatly, thinking "figures-perfect". "I should be going…" she says, looking longingly at his front door… suddenly realizing she doesn't have a car. She shifts her weight, anxiously form foot to foot. "I could jog home" she thinks, "Run out screaming down the street, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

He reaches toward her. She backs up.

"Don't" she pleads.

He stops, his arms falling helplessly to his sides.

They stare into each others eyes for what seems like an eternity, words could bless or heal, or harm, but they would never be enough - not now maybe not ever. Catherine is the first to break the silence.

"Are you going to just stand there or are you going to drive me home?" After saying this she immediately regrets it, "just prolonging the pain" she thinks and her heart aches all over again. His cell phone rings. She moves toward his window and kneels on the couch looking out the blinds like a prisoner staring blankly at the street. He takes the cue and moves toward his bedroom she can hear his voice angry and low, harsh, an argument?- no doubt about her- more frustrated words- some kind of denial or maybe pleading. "he's lying to her" she thinks he's been brought low- "Oh well, can he go much lower" she whispers into the blinds and then quickly chides herself- "That was mean , stop it Cath". She winces as she hears the cell phone crash against a wall, hitting the floor, shattered. She wants to ask him if he's OK but she knows he's not so she says nothing instead she continues to stare blankly at the street. She feel s him behind her hearing the keys nervously clanking in his hand. She pulls her knee out of the couch and trips stumbling into his arms, buying her face into his chest she murmurs "oh God Gil and starts to giggle from the weight of everything finding it all too melodramatic, awkward and unreal. He smiles at her sadly and kissed the top of her head, cupping her face and running his fingers across her delicate features. He breathes a ragged breath and places his arm around her turning her toward the door walking her from the house to the street to the car helping her to her seat.

They don't speak on the drive to her home. He takes her hand and holds on for dear life, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Neither of them seem to be able to breathe. He pulls into her driveway her right hand reaches for the door, clawing at it trying to make her escape. He holds her left hand firmly and pulls her to him kissing her head.

"Cath, I…" he starts…

She pulls back from him, frantic, glaring at him and then at their hands. He releases hers. She pushes herself out of the seat and without looking back runs to the door crashing through it and slams it behind her sliding to the floor breathing hard bitter tears flowing down her cheeks. She notices her mother's heels in front of her.

Catherine? Lilly inquires, "Catherine, honey what is it? What happened to you?"

Catherine feels her mother's arms lifting her into a rare embrace, she doesn't resist it. She curls herself into her mother arms.

"Shh-shh" Lilly coos, "Honey, whatever it is…" knowing Catherine will not tell her Lilly guides her daughter toward her bedroom saying "You look exhausted, take a shower I'll fix you some tea… what you need is some rest…"

Catherine takes off her jumpsuit and tosses it into the hamper suddenly feeling dirty she gets into her own shower and washes her hair scrubbing herself trying to get rid of any signs of him- she realizes the futility of it and get out of the shower and examines her body in the mirror, seeing a love bite on her collar bone she curses and sighs "Asshole". She slips her pajama top over her shoulders covering the offending bruise and makes her way to her bed and climbs into it. Turning she see the picture of the CSI team taken at last year's office party. She flips it over and sighs "Shit" drifting off into a fitful sleep.

Gil climbs into his bed not wanting to change the sheets, her sent is still everywhere he hugs her pillow to his chest and lays there hoping tonight will not be as bad as what he believes.