One Step Closer

Rating: PG-13 for language and very heavy angst.

Disclaimer: Ok, I this is an original story but the concept was inspired by the show: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation and the alarming number of abductions in the U.S. The characters are original but I will admit that the char. of William Knight is based on the CSI char. of Gil Grissom. Lyrics in song "Letting Go" by Kim Sozzi (complete lyrics at end of story).

Summary: An abduction and rape victim copes with her attack in the best way she knows how. Very dark and angsty.

They found her on the shore. They had all been out looking for her all night and by early morning they were still officially looking for the missing Natalie Wade; but unofficially they were searching for Natalie Wade's corpse. So when she seemingly appeared out of nowhere on that frosty morning looking like she had just walked through both heaven and hell, noone said a word or even moved for fear that she would disappear as suddenly as she had appeared

Her boyfriend, the head of the Los Angeles Forensic team, William Knight, was the first to speak to her. He had been telling his team where to look next, and thus had his back to her, when it suddenly became quiet and still, too still. He slowly turned around, prepared for the worst, but still hoping for the best; and then he saw her-disheveled and limping, but alive.

He called her name and ran to her, intending to pull her into his embrace as soon as he was close enough to be able to do so. William was a good ways away from her position when he first saw her. He called her name over and over as he ran to her, but she made no attempt to move towards him and said not a word. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought this was strange but figured that she was most likely in shock.

When he was about a foot away he extended his arm to touch her but she suddenly recoiled and said in a dangerously low voice, "Don't touch me." He was still reaching for her when the shock of her words penetrated the euphoric haze that had surrounded his brain the moment he saw her.

"Natalie?" he said as he slowly lowered his hand.

"Don't-touch-me. I don't want anyone to touch me. Not now, not ever again."

He saw in his peripheral vision his forensic team and the emergency personnel making their way towards them. William refocused his entire attention on her and looked, really looked, at her. From a distance she just looked disheveled, but up close she looked as if she had spent 40 days and 40 nights wandering in the wilderness.

Her hair was filled with dirt and various grasses and twigs. There were scratches, cuts, and bruises all over her visible body; and her clothes were ripped and torn in addition to being filthy. And for the first time he noticed the blood. Blood was dried on her face and arms, presumably from the cuts; blood was dried on her shirt and skirt; and blood was running down her legs. A lot of it was running down her legs. After his visual inspection everything that had happened to her since her disappearance two days ago was clear to him. He now knew why she said and did nothing when he called out to her. The absolutely blank look in her eyes told the story: She was physically there in body but her soul, spirit....essence was gone. It was like looking into the window of a vacant shop-and it broke his heart. He wasn't even sure if she recognized or really saw him. For all he knew she could have been talking to anyone just now.

He didn't know whether to pull her into his arms, against her will, or to step back and give her space. However, the decision was made for him when a paramedic stepped into his view and laid her gloved hand onto Natalie's shoulder. As soon as the woman touched her the look in Natalie's eyes went from empty and blank, to feral and dangerous. He knew that was it, the straw that broke the camel's back.

With one hand she grabbed the woman's wrist and with the other she grabbed her shoulder. Within one second she had pushed the poor woman hard enough to throw her off balance and let out a scream for anyone within 1 mile to hear.

They were all shocked by her primal scream but she took no notice of them. Natalie was angrily walking in the opposite direction of everyone and saying, "I told you not to touch me! Just leave me alone and keep your hands off of me!" She was still badly limping and leaving a trail of blood in her wake. More emergency personnel approached Natalie with medical kits in their hands and pleaded with her to let them look at her.

"Ma'am, you're injured. You need medical attention as soon as possible."

Without warning she angrily spun on her heel and confronted the startled E.M.T.s

"I don't want or need medical attention. Just leave me alone! Do you not get it? I want to be left ALONE!"

"Natalie," I said in a low and hopefully soothing voice, "I know you're upset and probably confused, but you need to go to the hospital and get checked out. You're bleeding badly."

"No!" She screeched and turned in a circle to include everyone, "I am NOT going to the hospital. I'll be fine. Just leave me alone."

"But, you have to..."

"I don't have to do anything. It is my right to refuse treatment, you can't make me go if I refuse to!"

William knew she was right. Natalie had the right to refuse treatment but she was seriously hurt. He was about to protest when he saw her body go perfectly rigid. He looked in the direction of her eyes and in the distance saw two police officers in black uniforms walking towards them with a handcuffed man in between them. He instantly knew it was Ray Finkle, the man who stalked, abducted, and apparently tortured her for two days. He was about to wonder how she could even identify him from that distance without her glasses on but he didn't get the chance. Like a flash she was off running in his direction with a look of murder in her eyes. Even though she was hurt the adrenaline in her body gave her enough energy to run like the wind. She was about three feet from him when William grabbed her from behind. While she struggled in his arms she screamed a litany of curses and threats his way.

"You! You fucking bastard! You think this is over? I will see you dead! You hear me? DEAD! I swear on my life that you will pay for what you did to me! I will be your eternal damnation you son of a bitch! As long as I am alive and breathing there will be no rest for you. You are going to regret ever laying eyes on me! I hate you, hate you, hate you!"

As the officers took him on past them he could feel her struggling becoming weaker and weaker. After awhile she stopped struggling and just shook in his arms. He loosened his grip and just held her and rubbed her hair.

"I hate him, William." She whispered just loud enough for me to hear then collapsed in my arms.

"Help!" I screamed as I picked her up and started running to the ambulances. She was in shock and blood from between her legs was soaking her skirt and my shirt.

*****************************************************************************

Natalie woke up in a hospital room. She could tell by the sound of the machinery and the feel of the bed. She had been the hospital for a minor surgery when she was younger and remembered the unique feel of a hospital room. Opening her eyes confirmed what she already knew. She was in a brightly lit, single bed room. The door was open and she could hear a man's voice talking in a not so quiet voice.

"She lost a lot of blood but she is in stable condition now."

"Doctor, will she be alright?" She recognized her boyfriend's voice, he sounded worried.

"Yes, physically she will be alright. However, I am worried about her mental state. I am going to have a specialist from the psych ward come in and talk to her later. She...."

At that point she tuned him out. It was bad enough that she was in a hospital. she wasn't going to talk to any psychologist to "work out her feelings" or "deal with her anger." Fuck that. Noone could help her or make her feel better. She didn't even want them to try. All she wanted was to be left alone. After a while she felt herself being pulled back into slumber and willingly went.

When Natalie next awakened it was night time but she sensed that it was the next night. Some of the weakness she had felt before was gone. She sat up and looked around the room. In a chair next to her bed was a sleeping William. She had an urge to rub her hands through his slightly greying hair but she stopped herself. She wouldn't make what she had to do harder by giving into sentimentality and a fleeting sense of affection.

She was pulling her hand away when he opened his eyes and immediately sat up straight. His eyes were bloodshot, like he had been crying, and so tired looking. She felt an immediate stab of pain for both he and herself. What she was about to do would hurt but she had to be cruel to be kind.

"Natalie, you're awake. Thank God, I was so worried about you. When you were first taken I thought I had lost you. Then when we found you and brought you to the hospital I thought I would lose you for a second time. You were so close to....to..."

"Dying." I said the word he couldn't bring himself to say. It was nothing to me now. I was already dead so the word didn't bother me. The look in his eyes was one of a tortured soul. I could tell that he blamed himself for everything that had happened to me. I couldn't let myself become his torment, his guilt, it was another reason why I was letting him go.

"Yes, dying, but you didn't die. You fought to survive and you won. You won, Natalie. I can't express how happy I am to have you back. I love you so...."

"William!" I said in a strangled voice. I couldn't let him say that he loved me. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want anyone's love. I despised love now. I hated it as much as I hated Ray Finkle...and myself.

"Yes." He looked at me with such love and awe in his eyes that I almost hit him. He always looked at me like that. It used to bother me before because I knew I was so unworthy of his love. It was only a matter of time before he realized that I was nothing. Just a girl who wasn't all that smart, pretty, or talented. Everyday I waited for the inevitable moment when he would see me for what I truly was: A damaged girl who could never be loved or give love.

*****************************************************************************

We met about a year ago. He was a guest lecturer at my school and I, obviously, was a student. Even though his lecture was on Entomology and how it pertained to forensic study, not even close to my Psychology major, I went anyway. The lecture was riveting and the man himself was fascinating. He had such passion for his work that you couldn't help but get caught up in it as well. After he spoke I hung back and waited patiently while he answered a few questions from the other students there. I then approached him and started telling him how fascinating his work was. I probably looked like a complete dork but he smiled and listened attentively as I praised and pummeled him with questions about his profession. After awhile he interrupted me and said, "Ms.....?"

"Wade." I supplied for him, "Ms. Wade, Would you like to get coffee or something? We can sit down and talk instead of standing up for the rest of the day."

With much embarrassment I realized that I had been standing there for about 20 minutes running my mouth. "Sure, that would be great! Oh, and call me Natalie."

"Ok, Natalie, let's go get some coffee."

A cup of coffee and a Q and A session turned into an all day and practically all night talk-a-thon. Like me, William Knight could talk all night about practically any and everything that interested him. Even though he was older and much more educated than I was, William and I clicked on an intellectual level. His vast knowledge and my vast quest for knowledge made us a perfect match, in that sense. When we parted that night he told me how much he enjoyed talking with me and he was interested in talking with me again. It wasn't a come on or anything, it was just that he, like myself, found it difficult to find people who liked to talk and discuss things like that for hours at a time.

The next morning I was so jazzed by our discussions the day before that I called him up and asked him if he wanted to get together that day. Who knows where I got the courage to do that from! We went to the Getty Museum and had a wonderful time. Later he told me that he felt something for me when we were looking at a Jackson Pollock print and I was explaining to him what I liked about it. I remember saying, "It's not the actual painting I like. It's the man I see in the painting. When I first saw a Pollock drip painting I hated it and thought, like many people, 'That's art?!' But when I saw him on videotape making one I was...enthralled. He was so into it, he became like a part of it. He put everything he had into it-and that made it special. It's not the most attractive-far from it, or the best...but you can see it's soul and that makes it wonderful."

After that we saw each other every day for about two weeks. He was only supposed to stay about two days but he had a lot of vacation time saved up that the county was dying for him to use up. This gave him the perfect opportunity to do it. Over the course of about 5 months we saw each other whenever possible. We were great together and got along beautifully. But my personal problems were to be our undoing.

I had many issues with sex and love. The biggest ones being that I was afraid of sex and didn't think that loving someone was possible for me. Sure, I liked people and had strong attachments to them but love....I didn't know about that. The only way I could know that I loved someone was the feeling I got when they left me. If I felt pain, missed them, and thought about them all the time I knew that I had loved them. But, of course, by then it was too late.

One day William told me that he loved me and I freaked. I didn't even know if I loved him, or even could love him. He was expecting me to say that I loved him too, but I couldn't. In my life I had said the word "Love" so infrequently I could probably count the number of times on one hand! I wanted to say it but I was terrified and unsure of my own feelings. After he saw that I wouldn't say it back to him he gave me a crushed look and walked out the door. I wanted to run after him but I couldn't- no, wouldn't do it. I had my pride and I knew I would never run after a man-even if I loved him. He left that very day and didn't come back. I spent the day crying on my floor hating myself for being damaged. I mean, what kind of person couldn't even love?! After he was gone I got *that* feeling and knew that I probably, most likely, loved him...though I could never be sure.

Months went by and I got on with my life. I wanted to call him or email him to make amends to our friendship (that was what I really missed) but my pride was too strong. Then about a year after we met I was in L.A. at a fund-raiser benefitting victims of domestic violence when someone grabbed my arm as I was heading to my table. I turned around and it was him! I couldn't believe it. Of all the fund-raisers in all the city he had to come walking into mine.

He looked as good as ever even casually dressed. His eyes stopped me cold and we were caught in a perfect moment in time. I looked a bit different than when he had last saw me. I had lost about 10 pounds and my hair was straight and short instead of being in braids. He was there looking for a possible witness to a homicide with his forensic team. He introduced me to his team and we exchanged cell numbers. Later that night he called my hotel and asked if we could meet up and talk. I was terrified but I agreed anyway. I missed my friend. We talked for hours just like we did the first time we met. He said that he missed me and wanted to try again. I told him that I didn't want to do it again because it hurt so much the first time. I also said to him that I just wanted to repair our friendship, nothing more. But his apology won me over. Or at least it softened my resolve a bit. He'd said, "Natalie, I know what I did was wrong. It was childish really. I got my feelings hurt and ran away. I knew, know, the problems you had and have with intimacy and the "L"Word. You weren't ready to say the words but I knew how you felt. It just wasn't good enough for me at the time and that was my mistake. The problem was mine, not yours, Natalie. Please, just give us a chance. I miss you. No pushing-I swear."

I was scared and skeptical but you present Natalie Wade with a challenge and that's it. I just can't help it. My pride is everything to me. It is equally one of my greatest strengths and my fatal flaw. But it has kept me safe over the years. It allows me to keep people out and thus protect myself from pain. William was the first person to get into Fort Knox a.k.a.. my heart and I was afraid of the ramifications of that: If he got in...could others? Were my walls crumbling!? The idea of being vulnerable to the world was my very worst fear...well, next to failing that is.

After that night William and I took things slowly, and it was okay. Our connection was as good as it ever was and I was happier than I had been in months. I still wasn't up to having sex but that was okay. He said he was willing to wait and that it wasn't a problem for him. That's another thing I love about older people: They understand that life doesn't have to be rushed. You can wait a bit. I was beginning to think that for once life would throw me a bone and go my way when Ray Finkle came into my life...and here we are now.

*****************************************************************************

I was looking at William's handsome and distinguished face and getting ready to break his heart...when my mother came bursting through the door. Her clothes were wrinkled and mismatched (a sure sign that either the apocalypse was here or that she got dressed in the dark and left in a hurry-without checking a mirror.) And the look she had on her face was one of joy and relief when she saw me, and then anger when she saw William.

"Are you William Knight?" She asked in a tight voice that held the promise of much anger.

William stood up and extended his hand, "Yes, I am. You're Natalie's mother, I presume?"

She looked at his extended hand like it was a foul thing, "You presume right, Mr. Knight."

After the look she gave he and his hand he got the hint and slowly lowered it. The look she was giving him could give polar bears a chill. It was making him visibly uncomfortable and he stood in front of her awkwardly for a few seconds then he began to speak. "Mrs. Wade, the doctors say that Natalie is doing considerably well and....."

"This is all your fault."

Oh, great, I thought, here it comes. William was quiet for a few moments. From behind I could tell that he was taking a deep breath. With my mother one usually had to take *several* deep breaths when speaking with her.

"Mrs. Wade, I know what you must be thinking but..."

She took a few more steps into the room. "No, you don't know what I am thinking. My daughter was hurt because of you. That psycho was after you, wasn't he? You knew it and you didn't do a thing. He raped and tortured her and it's your fault!"

I flinched at the mention of the rape. I never wanted that word to be spoken in conjunction with me. I couldn't erase it from my mind but I could practice better living through denial and never speak of it again.

"Mrs. Wade...."

"It's MS. WADE, get it straight!"

"Ok, MS. Wade, I tried so hard to find Natalie. I went crazy when I found out that she was missing and that she was taken by Ray Finkle. I didn't know that he was out there after me and I certainly didn't know that he would take Natalie! It kills me to know that he hurt her because of his hatred for me. I love her...."

"Stop! Don't you dare. You love her?! You bastard. You're old enough to be her father!"

I was beginning to resent her tirade but that statement was true enough. William was born a month before my mother in 1956. He was indeed old enough to be my father. Yeah, a lot of people stared at us and made false assumptions about our relationship: "He must have money," "She must be a gold digger," "He's a pervert" or "having a mid-life crisis"....Yeah, we had heard them *all.* And it certainly didn't help that I looked 18 instead of the 22 that I was. But even though the staring and whispers (like stage whispers!) bothered us we got used to them. We clicked on a level deeper than superficial age differences. Not that a 24 age difference was a minor difference...it would be a big one for most people admittedly. But to us it hardly mattered. I wasn't some gum chewing surfer girl who wanted to just "kick back" with a "cool dude." And he wasn't some Mr. Rogers wannabe who thought all young people were "punks." No, we both loved museums, art galleries, reading, science, history...etc. We had similar tastes in music...except when it came to rap and disco. He hates disco-I love it. I hate rap-he likes it. He taught me how to Salsa and kick box...I taught him how to unwind and play the violin. Definitely not what one would expect. William and I practically made a living out of defying stereotypes.

******************************************************************************

While I was thinking about the age thing William and my mom were still going at it. Both were getting to the end of their limits and it was about to get ugly. I decided that it was time to stop this. I had something to say and damn it I was going to say it! This was not the way I wanted things to go and now I was furious.

"Enough!" I yelled. They both immediately stopped the argument and turned towards me.

"I have something to tell both of you." I looked from one to the other with a stern and somber look to make sure they knew I was serious and the arguing stopped here. When I was sure that I had their attention I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, reopened them and begin.

"First of all, this is noone's fault except Ray Finkle's....and myself...."

"Natalie...."

"No interruptions. please. This is hard enough without having to stop and then start again. I will qualify my statements, I promise. As I was saying, It's Ray Finkle's fault for obvious reasons, and it's my fault because I should have known better. I know to keep my doors locked at night but that night I didn't lock the door. I thought about it when I was dozing on the couch and I said to myself, 'You lock it every night and nothing happens. Leaving it unlocked one night won't make a difference.' That was my first mistake. My second mistake was made when he came in late that night and I went quietly with him. Yeah, he had a knife. But, so what? I knew I could have taken him-I have three karate belts for cryin' out loud! But my body refused to do anything. He got me out of my apartment, my building, to his car...and all the way to his house, all without me doing anything. I foolishly just hoped for the best. There is no best to hope for. Always expect the worse, that way you don't set yourself up for a fall. When people are abducted in the middle of the night by knife wielding mad men they're not just set free unharmed when the abductor has a "change of heart." I watch the news, read the papers...I know all of this. Yet....I hoped anyway. All the while I thought, 'Someone will come and save me just in the nick of time. I just have to sit here and wait.' I was so wrong. There are no superheroes who come bursting through the door at the exact moment the villain is about to harm the innocent victim. No, the "heroes" come later to identify the body. "

I knew that last comment sounded harsh and condescending but I felt it was true. My "heros" were a day late and a dollar short. I had already gotten away from Ray when they "found" me. More like I found them.

"And momma..." I continued on, "I bet you must be feeling so smug right now. You told me that I was a fool to be so naive and trusting...it was going to get me hurt one day you said. Well, that day is here. You were right! Feels good to get to say "I told you so" doesn't it? Go ahead, say it. You know you want to."

She looked absolutely shocked, at first, and then that dissolved into a look of pure guilt. Good, let her feel guilty. It was all true anyway.

"Well, that's okay. You don't need to answer out loud. Gloating at a time like this would be in poor taste anyway. Well, guess what? You don't have to worry about my naivety and unending hope anymore, I'm through. I'm through with this planet and its people. Let them all rot in a self made hell I say! Oh, and I want to be there the day it all ends in a fiery blaze just so that I can say 'Told You So!' Turnabout is fair play.

"Natalie," My mother said, "You're angry and we all understand that...."

"No, you don't understand." I barely got out through clenched teeth, "How the hell could you possibly understand what I went though then and what I am going through now?! Don't you, any of you, dare try to sympathize with me!"

By the time I got to the last words out of my mouth I was almost shouting and my voice was cracking. I was an inch away from bursting into tears. I fought as hard as I could to hold them back.. I never cried in front of people and I was certainly not going to start now. I clenched my fists, closed my eyes and then counted down from ten. When I got to "0" I took a deep breath and continued.

"You guys want to know how I feel? Fine, I'll tell you. I'm hurt and angry. I'm filled with despair, hatred and devastation. I want to die. Every day is 24 hours of hell for me. A respite from my life, my mind...my body. Is what I want more than *anything,* but I can't have it. The memories stalk me when I am awake and then haunt me when I am sleeping....and everything I've just said...? Doesn't even began to cover how I *really* feel deep down inside where the words can't reach. But this is the best I can do."

I had steadily been looking at them as I spoke. They would occasionally lower their eyes when it became too painful for them. I felt a stab of guilt for laying this all on them at once, but it wasn't enough to stop me. I needed to get this out. No matter how much it hurt it would be said.

"William, when my mother came in I was about to tell you something..." He looked into my eyes and I couldn't go on. Those orbs of knowledge could see through anyone and touch your very soul. It took all the determination I had to look him in the eye and continue on.

"I am...I mean I wanted to tell you that...we're over. There. I said it. I'm sorry, I know this is sudden and totally bitchy but that's the way it is." I looked down at my hands because I didn't want to look into his eyes. The hatred that would undoubtedly be there was more than I could stand.

"Natalie, look at me. LOOK at ME." He said in the no nonsense voice his team was used to hearing. When I finally got the courage to look at him the look in his eyes wasn't one of hate, or disgust...or even pity...it was love. Damn him, damn him to hell for still loving me!

"I will love you no matter what. It's unconditional and interest free. We can get through this with time, patience and....."

"NO!" I screamed, "I don't want your love or anyone else's! The very thought of love and affection makes me sick! Keep your love, William. I was never deserving of it anyway. Just leave me alone. Don't call me, don't write, don't show up in the middle of the night.....this is me letting go" the song "Letting Go" was echoing in my head.

I made my voice as hard as possible hoping he would get the message and just leave. He stood up, turned to go but stopped before he got half of the way around. William looked down at me with tear filled eyes and a quivering jaw. At that moment what was left of my heart shattered into a million pieces-and I welcomed it. A heart only caused you pain and I wanted mine dead and buried. He reached out with his hand, caressed my cheek and said, "I will always love you. And I will be there for you whenever you need me."

I pushed all my pain down, set my face into a resolute blank gaze and whispered firmly and unwaveringly, "Just go."

He nodded once, turned towards the door and left without looking back.

"Natalie, this is for the best." My mother said.

I turned my gaze from the door to the face of my mother. The look I gave her was so cold I almost felt the temperature in the room go down. "You too."

She reached over and grabbed my hand, "What do you mean by that?"

"What do you *think* I mean. Get out. It's that simple. I said that I didn't want *any* love and that includes your's. Go."

I turned my head away and disengaged my hand from her's. She pleaded with me for another minute before she finally gave up and left. I could hear the sounds of her rapid footsteps and crying going down the hallway. I expected to feel guilty about what I had done to both my mother and William- but I didn't. I only felt relief and satisfaction. The relief came from the knowledge that I wouldn't have to deal with their pitying looks and feeble attempts to cheer me up. The satisfaction came from inflicting the pain upon them. I was in pain and I wanted them to feel it too. Hell, I wanted the whole world to hurt! If I had to live with this unbearable pain then I wanted them to feel it as well. Evil? Maybe. Honest? Yes. Did I care? No.

The song "Letting Go" were getting louder in my head. Dick Clark once said, "Music is the sound track of our lives." Ain't it the truth. I was living that song. Two stanzas were especially hard hitting and seemed to have been written just for me:

"So now I say the words I want to say

Sometimes it's better letting go this way

I'll always know down in my soul

we really had so far to go

I've given all I have to give

And now it's time for me to live

And I won't look back

And I won't regret

though it hurts like hell

Someday I will forget..."

*****************************************************************************

I was released from the hospital about a week later. I immediately moved from my apartment and transferred to a different school. I cut ties with my friends, my family...William...and didn't look back. The two days I spent as Ray Finkle's captive changed me into a new person. The new Natalie Wade was cold, cynical, somber and un-penetrable, inside and out.

About a year later I heard that my mother had called William to blame him for my cutting ties with everything and everyone I had known. That didn't surprise me one bit. As for William, he kept his promise not to call, visit, write or contact me in any way. I knew that he knew where I was. As a member of law enforcement he had easy access to that information. On my 23^rd birthday he broke our agreement and sent me a postcard. He didn't send a letter because it would have been too easy for me to throw it away without ever looking at it. On the back was one sentence: "Will you ever come back?"

A loaded question to be sure. I knew he meant more than would I come back to the state. It was asking would the old Natalie ever go back to her former life, family, friends...and lover. Yes; no; maybe so. I couldn't say. Maybe the old Natalie wasn't completely dead. Maybe she would one day go back to it all...but not right now. Even after all this time I was still standing on the edge-not able to decide whether I wanted to take one step forward or one step back.

Lyrics to song "Letting Go" by Kim Sozzi

Letting Go