A/N: I haven't written a CSI fanfic in almost three years, so I'm not sure how this will turn out. I also haven't watched the show in years, but I'm going to try my hardest not to make any mistakes (I just bought seasons 8, 9, and 10, and will soon be caught up). In any event, I really liked Timmy when I wrote To Catch a Killer, and thought that I'd like to see how his relationship with the team has advanced. You will probably want to read To Catch a Killer first, as this story may not make sense without it… it isn't that long, promise. But hopefully you will find the sequel somewhat entertaining!

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Disclaimer: I do not own any part of CSI or its characters. That honor goes to the good folks over at CBS.

Spoilers: Anything up through season 11.

Summary: What will the team do when Timmy's bank-robbing, murderous father, unexpectedly re-enters his life? Sequel to To Catch a Killer.

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Sara stared at Greg across the breakroom table, a serious expression on her face. "We have to tell him, you know. Don't you think he'd prefer to hear it from us?"

"I don't know," Greg nervously drummed his fingertips on the table. "It's been two and a half years, Sara. Do you know how often Tim has talked about him?"

"Yeah, and the answer is never," Sara confirmed. "Never, because I think he's afraid. The Smiths think he'll take the news better from us, so I say we should go for it. You know how much he loves your banana walnut pancakes," she tried to smirk. "Maybe we can take him back to your place and make him some dinner, and then have the talk with him then."

"I guess so," Greg sighed, running a hand through his hair. "His OCD is going to go through the roof, though."

"I know," Sara nodded. "It's been awhile since he's been hit hard with an attack, but I think the stress might throw him into a tailspin. He's going to need us, perhaps now more than ever before."

"And we'll be there for him, just like we always are," Greg added. "Would you mind grabbing him from the front desk while I finish getting my things together?"

"No problem," Sara got to her feet, still gazing at Greg. "But he'll be okay, you know. He's a trooper."

"I know," Greg flashed her a weak smile before heading off down the hallway.

Twenty minutes later, Sara was walking through the reception area when she heard the front doors loudly open.

"Hey, Sara!" Timmy enthusiastically ran through the opening, immediately heading toward the tall brunette when he spotted her by the reception desk. "How are ya?"

"Hey, Tim," Sara flashed the thirteen year old boy a huge grin, holding out her arms to him as he approached her. "I'm good, how about you, honey?" she asked him.

"I'm great," Tim smiled, holding out his hand to Sara rather than giving her a big hug like he always did. "I'm too old to hug, though," he winked.

"I see," Sara laughed, shaking his hand instead. "So how did your midterms go?"

"Awesome!" Tim pulled out the crumpled first page of his United States history exam, holding it up for her to inspect. "I got the highest grade in my class," he proudly explained, pointing out the 98%.

"I knew you could do it," Sara smiled, glancing down the hallway toward the CSI offices. "Want to walk with me while we find Greg?"

"Sure," Timmy slung his knapsack over his shoulder, conspiratorially peeking up at her as they walked. "Don't tell him this, but I kinda failed my math test. I just don't get the material," he mumbled in embarrassment.

"It's okay, honey," Sara murmured, gazing over at the young boy. "But Greg is pretty smart, you know. He could probably help you figure out what you need to know."

"Yeah, but he'll be disappointed in me," Timmy shrugged, breaking out into an ear-to-ear grin the moment that he saw his big brother at the end of the hallway.

Although not biological brothers, Sara referred both Greg and Timmy to the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program several years ago, after they wrapped up the case involving Timmy's family. Both guys were extremely happy with the match, and both were benefitting from their brotherly relationship. Sara was equally as happy with the match, because it gave her the chance to interact with them both.

"Tim, Greg could never be disappointed in you, just as long as you try your best. None of us could ever be disappointed in you," she finally told him.

Timmy gave Sara a noncommittal shrug, bounding off down the hallway to catch up to Greg. "Hey!" he greeted him.

"Hi there, Squirt," Greg set his papers aside, giving him a giant hug. "So what's the scoop, how'd your tests go?" Sara smiled at the hug, glad that Timmy hadn't fully outgrown them just yet.

"I got a 98% on history," Timmy replied, proudly giving him the midterm exam. "I told you I knew that stuff!"

"Yeah you did," Greg chuckled, high-fiving him. "How'd you do with the math and science?" he headed toward the breakroom with Sara and Timmy in tow.

"Well—" Timmy cleared his throat. "I did okay, I guess," he stared at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with Greg.

"How okay?" Greg popped some change into the vending machine, handing Timmy a diet soda.

"… I failed the math," Timmy mumbled, flopping down onto the couch. "I tried, Greg, but I just screwed up! I really tried my hardest!" One, two, three, four, he thought to himself, inwardly frowning at his counting OCD symptom. Although he didn't count or repeat things as often as he used to, the symptoms always appeared when he was anxious or emotional.

"I'm sure you did, Squirt," Greg smiled at his little brother. "Tell you what. Why don't you and I start spending some quality studying time together? Maybe a couple of times a week until you understand what's going on in class?"

"...You would do that for me?" Tim asked, his eyes widening when Greg took a seat beside him. One, two, three, four.

"Of course I would," Greg chuckled. "And I bet Sara would, too."

"Of course," Sara confirmed, leaning against the wall. "Hey, Tim?" she then cleared her throat. "Greg and I were hoping that you would have dinner with us tonight. Greg promised to make his famous banana walnut pancakes."

"And then can we play wii Sports Resort?" he asked.

"Sure," Greg agreed. "It'll be fun."

"Or bowling?" Tim persisted.

"Whatever you want, Squirt. But I'm hungry, so what do you say we head out?" Greg smiled.

"Okay," Timmy shrugged. "But are you sure you two aren't mad at me for failing the math test?"

Both Sara and Greg wrapped an arm around Timmy's shoulders as they headed back toward the front of the lab. "We're positive," Sara smiled.

"Ditto," Greg told him.

Glancing at each other over the top of Timmy's head, Sara frowned. This was going to be a tough night, made only more difficult by the fact that Timmy's bank robbing father would soon be back in his life. For good.

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TO BE CONTINUED