Sara studied her notes, half-listening to the conversation on taking place on the other side of the glass. Through the two-way mirror, she could see Darrell still protesting, claiming ignorance of the bloody towel found under his bed. Brass sat across the table from Darrell, his face set in his usual expression of distrust. The young woman sitting next to Darrell wore a similar expression, unusual for a child's advocate in this room.

Sara frowned. She looked again at her notes from Nick's call. He and Warrick had found a set of bloodstained clothing shoved in the back corner of the boys' closet, along with a pair of inline skates. The skates were also bloodstained, and the left one had a long groove scraped on the side with asphalt gravel embedded in the groove. The stained clothing should make the case open and shut, but the skates-

The door to the fishbowl room slammed open, breaking Sara's thoughts. Grissom covered the distance from the door to Sara quickly, his face red and his eyes flashing. "When were planning on telling me about the clothing?"

"How did you-"

"Greg's doing the analysis right now," Grissom spat out, his anger still focused on Sara. "He told me where the clothing was found."

"I was going to report the finding as soon as we confirmed whose blood was on the clothes." Sara fought to remain calm. She found herself frightened and incensed over Grissom's behavior. "I want to make sure we have all the evidence before we confront Darrell."

"Dammit, Sara, you should have paged me when the clothing was brought in."

"As the lead, knowing your attachment, I chose not to." She stood tall in front of Grissom, certain that despite his anger, her decision had been correct.

Grissom's eyes narrowed. "You won't need to worry about that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm taking the case back. And it's time to stop playing with this kid and find out what the hell happened."

Sara drew in a sharp breath, her eyes flashing along with Grissom's. "The hell you are! Don't you dare compromise my case."

"Weren't you listening, Sara? It's not your case anymore."

Sara eyes burned hot with tears. Blinking them away, she took a step toward Grissom, but he was gone as quickly as he had come in the room. She clenched her fists and tried to breathe, to regain control, when she heard his voice again, over the speaker from the interrogation room.

"It's over, Darrell. We found the clothing."

Sara glared at Grissom through the glass, ignoring the reflection of her angered face. "Son of a bitch," she whispered. Grissom placed his hands on the table next to Brass, glaring at Darrell, his teeth clenched. She heard his voice again, tinny, almost faraway.

"About time you told us what happened."

Darrell was caught under Grissom's glare, his eyes wide and his face pale. He shook his head, his throat constricting from the effort of forming words.

Grissom continued, as a man possessed, his eyes blazing fire. "Why'd you kill Joey, Darrell? Why'd you lie about the towel? You put it there after you killed him, didn't you? Tried to hide the evidence."

Brass rose, his face now a picture of concern as he took Grissom's arm and tried to pull him away from the table. Brass was whispering to Grissom, but Sara couldn't hear the words. She remained frozen, watching through the glass, shocked at Grissom's words. He wasn't himself, he was too close to this case, and his actions were proving it. Sara raged at him, all thoughts purged from her mind except for her white-hot anger. Despite what he had said, she was still the lead. She had warned him, and now he would have to face her.

Brass began pulling Grissom out of the room by the arm, as Grissom continued to berate Darrell. "Tell us how you did it? Did you enjoy it? We have the evidence-why are you lying?"

Darrell was shaking, tears spilling down his face and his mouth locked open. Brass got Grissom out into the hall, and as the child's advocate put her arm around the distraught teenager, Sara rushed out into the hall.

Brass had Grissom pinned against the wall by the shoulders, and had already begun the questioning. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"The kid's lying, Jim. We have the proof. Greg has the clothes."

"That's not what I meant. What's crawling up your ass, Gil?"

Sara folded her arms across her chest, regarding Grissom with an icy stare. "I told you not to fuck up my case."

Grissom hitched a hollow laugh. "It's not your case, Sara."

"Bullshit. You're obviously not of a good mindset to run it."

Brass let go of Grissom but stayed close, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up with the tension between these two investigators. Grissom gave a twisted grin to Sara as Brass stood at attention. "I'm your supervisor. You can't make that call."

"Wanna bet?" The air between them crackled and grew thick. Sara focused entirely on Grissom, barely noticing Brass standing so near. Her anger was wavering, becoming replaced by worry, but she kept her front solid and continued. "Catherine's responding to a robbery, Warrick is still at the Mandel's apartment, and Nick is in Trace. You want Nick to decide?"

Grissom's breathing became heavier, his anger growing at Sara's resistance. "I thought you of all people would understand this."

Sara blinked back hot tears again, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "I do, Gris. That's why I'm doing this." She turned to Brass. "Grissom is taking the rest of the night off. Please escort him home."

"What?"

"You heard me, Gris. You're off my case. You need sleep, and I can't risk any further damage to this interrogation." She sighed. "I'll keep it quiet. Tell the others you still have a headache. But if you come back to tonight, you'll have to face me. And you know what I'm capable of."

Grissom's posture changed as he slumped his shoulder against the wall. His eyes were focused in the distance, and Sara could see that he had already left the conversation. She again turned to Brass. "Make sure he gets something to eat, gets some sleep. Tie him down if you have to. Just make sure he's gonna be OK."

Brass nodded, concerned, as he took Grissom's arm again and led him toward the parking lot.

Sara leaned back against the cold wall, closing her eyes. Grissom's confusion was tearing her apart and she felt like a bitch. She wiped the back of her hand against her eyelids, feeling moisture. She took a minute to draw deep breaths into her lungs, slow her pulse, and calm down before turning to walk back into the interrogation room.

Darrell was still shaking, and the advocate had her arm around his shoulders, whispering soothingly into his ear. Sara opened his mouth to apologize for the incident, but Darrell's words struck her first:

"I didn't kill Joey. I didn't kill nobody. I swear, it was an accident!"

He began crying again as Sara tried to hold herself together. She wanted to curl up into a fetal position and plug her ears to hide from everything she had seen tonight. Sighing, she pulled up a chair.

"Ok, Darrell. Why don't you tell me about it?"