August 7th, 2004 - - Las Vegas Crime Lab, DNA Lab

The boys didn't' move, daren't speak. Sara's expression belayed a whole host of emotions battling for superiority, but it was the look of heartbreak in her eyes that made Greg's stomach knot.

"You weren't supposed to find out like this." He squeaked shamefacedly.

"No?" She asked, her voice quivering as she risked a shaky step forward. "How was I supposed to find out? In six months time when my grandfather goes to court for murder?"

"Sara, honey..." Nick, finally finding his tongue, approached her tentatively with his arms outstretched.

"Don't." She snapped, moving out of his reach. "Don't 'honey' me. How long have you known about this?"

"It's ... it's complicated." He said awkwardly, dodging the question. "We're still not sure exactly what happened – that's why we didn't say anything..."

Sara scoffed, oblivious to the angry tears starting to creep down her ashen face.

"I don't believe you guys." She muttered, turning on her heel and disappearing as fast as her injured body would allow.

"Sara, wait!" Greg ran after her, pushing violently past Nick on his way; but by the time he made it into the corridor, she had already vanished.

He whirled around, slamming a fist into the doorframe.

"Damn it!"

August 7th, 2004 - - Las Vegas Crime Lab, Hallway / Parking Lot

Catherine clawed her hands frenetically through her hair. She had been stressed before she even came to work, but her conversation with Doc Robbins had left her uncharacteristically unsettled.

She loved Doc, but she couldn't believe that he had the nerve to insinuate that she would take advantage of Sara's vulnerable state.

There was something else bothering her as well; something that she was doing her best to ignore. How on earth did Robbins know? Sure, several people had commented on her sudden affection for Sara recently, but so far none of them had pegged the reason for it.

What had Doc seen that so many, including herself for a long time, had missed?

As she was busy pondering this en route back to her office, she was almost tripped up by a sight that made her heart jump.

Sara was dashing through the corridor towards the main entrance, tears streaming from her eyes as she forced her way between groups of idly chatting lab techs.

Cath took off in pursuit, barely even hearing Greg's outburst from the DNA lab.

Outside, it was just starting to rain, with solitary drops leaving large circular spots all over her crisp white shirt as she jogged across the parking lot. Sara had come to a stop at the farthest side, doubled over against a wall as if she were in pain.

"Sara!" Catherine gasped, skidding to a halt beside her and clutching her arms tightly. "Sara, honey, what's wrong?"

Sara spun around so fast it almost took Catherine off her feet. Her face was streaked with fresh tear tracks, mingling with the rain.

"Did you know as well?" She demanded. Catherine blinked, stunned.

"Know what?" She asked, trying and failing to re-claim her hold on Sara's arms as the brunette fought her off. "Sara, babe, what's happened?"

Sara took a determined step away, her eyes narrowed and hurt.

"Did you know about my father's death? About my grandfather?"

Like the boys, Catherine didn't say a word, but the silent horror dancing on her face spoke volumes. Sara pursed her lips, nodding tightly.

"Great." She muttered, turning and stalking across the empty parking lot. But she wasn't walking towards the lab. She was heading for the street, towards the dizzying lights of downtown Vegas.

Gathering herself together again, Cath darted after her.

"Sara, wait!" She gripped her wrist, swinging her back around. "Here, just, come here..."

She tugged the girl towards a sheltered area beneath overhanging trees. The bench was rotten, the paint chipped, but at least it was out of the rain. Reluctantly, Sara allowed herself to be dragged and sank heavily onto the seat.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about this? How long have you known?" She demanded, her voice cracking with the weight of emotion building inside her tight chest.

Catherine sat down too and pinned her shaking hands between her knees. She wanted to believe that they were trembling because of the cold dampness soaking into her clothes, but she knew deep down that that wasn't the case.

"It came up while we were searching for you. It got put on hold until you were safe, and then Grissom put Greg in charge of the investigation." She explained, figuring there was no sense holding anything back anymore. "We didn't want to tell you until we were sure you could handle it. We didn't want to upset you needlessly if it turned out not to be true."

"And is it?" Sara flicked her eyes up. Under the overcast sky, they looked black as night. "True?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask Greg that."

Sara released a shuddering breath, tilting her head towards the grey clouds. The rain was coming down hard now, large drops bouncing off cars like ping-pong balls. Somewhere in the distance, there was a rumble of thunder.

"Where did this even come from?" She asked at last. "I mean ... what did my father's death have to do with what happened to me?"

"It didn't, at least we didn't think it did." Cath shifted, daring to stretch out a hand and rest it on Sara's knee. "It was something your brother said – he believed that you had been taken because of the trust fund, because your grandfather wanted the money back that he had loaned to your father."

"The trust ... that's what you meant when you said you were sorting it?" Sara realised aloud, shaking her head.

Cath nodded, sighing sadly.

"Dylan saw two men leave your house the night your father died. He knew that Angelo had given him a loan and he assumed that the men had been sent to 'collect' on that."

"Hit men?" Sara raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Dylan didn't see anything that night, he didn't arrive until after the..."

She trailed off, swallowing hard around the resurrected memory. In all the years that had passed, she had never questioned what her eldest brother was doing back at the house that night.

Catherine slowly moved her grip from Sara's knee to her hand, where she interlocked their fingers loosely. The thunder was moving rapidly closer, so much so that it was almost above them now. Like fate, hanging over them, it was listening to every beat of their hearts, waiting for the moment when the pressure became too much.

Waiting for the moment that they broke.

"I think that's something you need to talk to Dylan about."

August 8th, 2004 - - Las Vegas Crime Lab, Tangiers Casino, Hotel Room 204

Dylan stumbled, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to answer the incessant hammering on his door.

It was three o'clock in the morning and he certainly didn't remember ordering room service, so he couldn't work out who could be so desperate to be in his hotel room at this time of night.

However, he didn't have to wait long to find out; as soon as the door was open, he was nearly knocked down by a brunette whirlwind storming past him.

"Were you ever planning on telling me, or were you going to take this sordid little secret to your grave?"

"Sara?" He blinked, barely believing of his own eyes. "What's going on, are you alright?"

His blonde hair was askew with sleep and his t-shirt was crumpled, but he was wide awake.

"Our grandfather killed our dad?" She queried, sparing no thought to his concern for her welfare. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Dylan's cheeks flushed, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. As a child, he had been a prolific liar, spinning tale after tale of believable stories to their parents and his teachers and anyone else who came too close to discovering the truth.

But he had never been able to lie to her. No matter how convincing his web became, she could tear it apart with a single look. He was getting that look right now.

"They told you about it then, huh?" He asked sheepishly.

"No, they didn't." She barked. "And neither did you."

"Come on Sar," he ruffled his hair, trying to dredge up one of the many excuses he had been giving himself for the last twenty years. "How could I? You and Seth were just kids when it happened and then we lost contact for so long..."

"No, we didn't lose contact." She challenged, jabbing him sharply in the chest. "You walked out on us."

He dropped his head, knowing that there was no way he could win this argument.

Sara used his silence as a moment to pause herself, cocking her head to the side.

"Does Seth know?"

"No." Dylan looked up, tears that hadn't been there before suddenly glistening in his eyes. "I didn't know how to tell him, either."

"So you'd rather let us grow up believing our mother was a murderer?"

"Would it make you feel any better knowing that your grandfather was a murderer who let his daughter take the rap for him?" He asked. "Mom's sick, Sara. Even if she had killed Max, who could have blamed her? At least this way, she got the help she needed."

"She didn't need to spend the rest of her life in a care home." She snarled. "She didn't deserve that!"

"That would have happened anyway, and you know it." He pointed out. "She needed help a long time before Max died."

Sara couldn't argue with the point, as much as she wanted to. Instead, she began to pace around the spacious room so she didn't have to meet his soulful eyes any longer.

"Now I know why you couldn't bear to see her." She mused bitterly. "I always thought you were just selfish, but I guess it was a guilty conscience keeping you away."

He pursed his lips.

"Maybe a little of both." He conceded. "I couldn't face what happened to her – or you. I felt like such a failure, like you'd all be better off without me around. So I left."

"Yeah, don't I know it." Sara sank onto the small couch and he quickly approached her, dropping to his knees on the thick rug.

"Sara, girl ..." he paused, considering reaching out towards her but quickly thinking better of it.

Even as a kid, there were times when it was best not to touch her unless you were looking to get punched. The difference now was that she could probably hurt him if she really wanted to. He licked his lips in thought, trying to think of a way to cross the bridge blazing between them.

To her indignant surprise, he chuckled.

"If I knew this was the way to get you to talk to me, I'd have told you ages ago."

Sara flicked her eyes up to his, chocolate brown meeting ocean blue for the first time in more years than either could recall. Hers were filled with hurt, his with remorse.

Without a word, she landed a solid punch on his shoulder, causing him to rock backwards against the coffee table. He was right, she could hurt him.

"I'm still mad at you." She snapped, even as she began to lose her battle with the empathic smile trying to fight its way onto her pouting lips.