AN: Very long, very dark chapter. And I have basketball tryouts today. YAY! So enjoy this.

Sara woke up a sore back and the sounds of her sister barfing. They were still in the sports field and the early morning dew gathered on their own skin, making everyone damp.

"Kiley," Sara called out, blinking her eyes furiously to help them adjust to the light.

Kiley didn't answer but barfed again. Sara saw her sister, a good 15 feet from the rest of them. Sara walked over quickly to her sister and held her hair back as Kiley clutched her stomach.

"This is called a hang-over," Greg informed the young girl. He had come up behind them and was standing next to Sara.

"I wasn't even that drunk," Kiley said, crawling a few feet away and clasping, her stomach all empty.

"How would you know," Greg questioned. "You were obviously drunk enough."

Kiley didn't protest this time. She brought her knees to her chest and curled up on the grass. Sara looked at her sister sadly.

"The poster child for why kids shouldn't drink," Greg said, gesturing at Kiley.

Sara thought that was pretty mean, and Greg deserved it when Kiley croaked, "Hypocrite."

Even in the desert, days grew shorter as Christmas got nearer. School work was neglected for holiday planning and shopping, the teachers eventually giving up, letting their students talk all class on the final day before break.

The Nerd Squad was no different then the rest of the student population, not in their Christmas preparation anyway. They were generally happy. Christmas was a happy time.

An unfortunate, but predictable, exception was Sara. Sara wasn't herself, to say the least. And she wouldn't let anyone know why. But it became apparent about a week before Christmas.

"Did you get my sister pregnant," Kiley demanded of Greg a few days before the 25th. Kiley placed her hands on Greg's shoulders and was pinning him up against the wall of Fredy's living room, ignoring the fact Greg was a good 6 or 7 inches taller than her.

"What," Greg exclaimed. He wasn't the only one either. Both Fredy and Nick shouted "What" s of their own. And the rest of the Nerd Squad had shocked looks on their face. They were all, with the absence of Sara of course, gathered at Fredy's house for a little party. Party minus the alcohol.

"Did you get Sara pregnant," Kiley asked again, speaking slowly, her voice still carrying a credible threat. A very credible threat.

"No," Greg said loudly, shaking her head frantically. Her was really scared, everybody could tell. But nobody could blame him.

"She and I didn't...we didn't even," Greg started babbling, tripping over his words.

Kiley released him, all of a suddenly very disinterested. Greg cut off his flow of words immediately and clutched his neck, like he could imagine a blade slicing across it and was surprised that there was no blood flow.

"Where'd that come from Kiley," Catherine asked the younger girl, amazed. Kiley shrugged and sat down. She wasn't in the best mood, and they all knew enough to leave her alone. And if they didn't the example with Greg was certainly enough to make them back off.

"She got a letter from her mother," Kiley informed them after a moment of silence.

"What," Fredy asked softly.

"How'd you know," Nick questioned.

"Only two things could make Sara act like she is. We've already ruled out on of them," Kiley said gesturing to Greg, who was seated quite a distance away from her, rubbing his neck as if to reassure himself his head was still safely attached to the rest of his body. "But I don't know how far past that it goes," Kiley said in a defeated voice. She didn't know, but she'd be sure to find out.

Sara was at home. She was sitting in her bed, sitting and looking at the sheet of paper in her hands. She had locked the door, closed the curtains. She had turned her room into a cell. A cell to keep others out rather than herself in. A cell to keep her safe. Safe from the doom the little piece of paper brought.

Sara was sitting in her cell on Christmas eve.

She reread the paper, the letter, only seeing one phrase.

I'm getting out on parole

Parole. Sara would like to kill who ever invented it. She would like to kill that person and her mother both.

But she wouldn't be able to do that, she knew. She also knew what fueled her mother's heart and Sara knew what she would have to do to destroy it. And she intended to destroy her mother from he heart out.

Sara folded up the letter and stuck it in her pocket. Then she got out a new sheet of paper and a pen and started to write her own letter.

"Sara," Kiley shouted pounding on her step-sister's door. "Open it up damn it," Kiley shouted to the piece of wood that separated her from Sara. Or Sara's room anyway.

Kiley continued to alternate pounding on the locked door and shouting insults at Sara. Then she resorted to shouting "Damn you," over and over and kicking Sara's door. This proved to be a good thing as the door broke open. Kiley sent a metal thanks to the inventor of bad door locks.

A quick look of the room told Kiley that Sara was gone. Out the window most likely. Kiley mental cursed Sara and went looking for anything that gave her any hint of where she was.

It appeared in the form of a letter sitting on her bed. Kiley unfolded the sheet of paper, her eyes traveling quickly over it, drinking in her foster-sister's words.

I've always wanted to know

What it would be like to fly

Just another thing to check off

My to-do list 'fore I die

Then a day'll come when

I'm just another star it the sky

It'll let my soul rest easy

Knowing I can fly

So good by nights

And so long days

See you my friends

I loved your gentle ways

But ways can only go so far

And after that your stumped

Now the world watches

Silent as I jump

Wanted to see my namesake first

Much Love,

Midnight-snow

Kiley had no idea what it meant, and frankly she didn't want to know. It didn't sound good, and Kiley was scared. She left the room quickly, she wanted to find the others. They would know what to do.

She was frantic as she ran out to get her bike. She was supposed to be at Greg's for Christmas anyway. She only came home to drag Sara out. A lot of good that did. She opened the shed to get the bike that had passed totally to her hands when Sara got her driver's licence.

It was empty. The bike was missing.

"Shit Sara," Kiley muttered under her breath, like her foster sister could actually here her. But Kiley's head was going to fast to be stopped. She knew the way to Greg's house, it would take to long on foot. She hopped over the fence that separated their yard and their neighbor's yard. She quickly stole the neighbor kid's bike. She would return it later.

15 minutes later Kiley was running into Greg's back yard in the direction of the barn. She was completely out of breath and her legs felt like jell-O, but all that was buried under layers of worry, anger and adrenalin.

"Kiley," Greg was the first to exclaim when she burst into the barn. Quickly the Nerd Squad surrounded her and they all moved outside.

"Sara's gone," she shouted, ignoring all their concerns for her. Their concerns were well placed however, for she couldn't even stand up any more and Archie and Nick were supporting her.

"What," Greg shouted.

"She's not in her room. She left a note," Kiley said. There was pure fear in her eyes as she handed the note over. Warrick was the on to grab it. He unfolded it and read it quickly, his eyes traveling down the paper.

"Oh fuck," he breathed. The alarm bells in Kiley's head were making the inside of her head vibrate and ache.

He read the note out loud, emotionless and flat.

"These are lyrics to a song I wrote," he told them, disbelief in his voice.

"That's a really nice song," Sara told him, smiling. She listened to his music a lot, listened to him play. She liked it.

"Thanks," Warrick said. "It's about a girl...she can't take it anymore."

"Take what?"

"Life in general, everything. So she's kinda saying goodbye to her friends. Before she dies."

Sara looked at him, a sad, considering look on her face, and nodded.

Warrick didn't share this memory with the others. They didn't need to know.

"I know where she is," Warrick breathed. He shoved the letter in a pocket.

"I'm coming with you," Kiley demanded, shaking her arms and moving away from Nick and Archie. Warrick looked at the younger girl and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You're staying here," he told her firmly. Kiley's eyes were blazing with anger, fear and determination. When Kiley got that look in her eyes, she wasn't likely to back down. But Warrick knew what he would find when he found Sara. No little girl needed that in her head.

"I'm not," Kiley said firmly, her words dripping with ice and venom. Any other reasonable person would've backed down by now, but Warrick didn't fit into that category.

"Kiley, you are staying here if I have to tie you up and shove you in a closet," Warrick said with a voice to match Kiley's.

Kiley looked very angry, but she gritted her teeth and took a step back.

"You bring her back Warrick," she shouted as Warrick ran off his car.

Warrick didn't respond.

Warrick knew exactly where to go. He knew Vegas, he knew the surrounding areas. He knew the only place it snowed for miles around. And that's where he was headed. He knew he was running on a timer. He knew he had until midnight. But he reused to look at his watch. He just ran up the slope, through the trees, like he still had time. Like maybe he could bring Sara back to Kiley, and to Greg, to all of them. He refused to tell himself it was hopeless.

Sara sat on the ledge, looking over. It was a long way down. A very long way down. She could no longer see the bottom. Snow was falling lightly around her. Soft, cold white flakes. It was cold enough to make her shiver. She had no coat.

Her right hand was bloody. She let the blood run into the snow, staining the white ground red.

She heard the crunching of feet behind her, feet in the snow. She turned slightly to look.

"Hi Warrick," she said softly, sadly. He shouldn't be here. Sara stood up, so very close to the edge.

"Sara," Warrick said cautiously. "Sara don't do this."

"I knew you'd figure it out. You knew the story. But please, leave. You don't have to see this," Sara told him.

"Sara I'm not going. I promised to bring you back with me," Warrick said, moving a little closer, slowly.

"That was a stupid promise," Sara told him. "I'm not going back. I can't go back."

"Why," Warrick asked. If he kept her talking, he could keep her from going off the edge.

"My mother's getting released on parole. I can't go back," she said. There were ears in her eyes. Warrick couldn't see, it was too dark, but he could hear them in her voice.

"We'll protect you Sara," Warrick said.

"You can't," Sara snapped. "You can't protect me."

"Sara," Warrick started to say. But he was interrupted by Sara's voice.

"I've always wanted to know what it would be like to fly," she started to sing. Warrick's heart dropped. He stopped moving and simply watched her. She continued the song and despite it all, Warrick recognized she had a very pretty voice.

As she sung, she turned around, facing the ledge. The word seemed to fall quite.

"Now the world watches," she sung. hen she paused and Warrick knew he was meant to finish the song.

"Silent as I jump," he sang. This seemed to break the spell of silence the mountain top was in. And the snow turned instantly to rain. Thunder cracked over head and Warrick couldn't help but think that it knew. That the world could sense what was going on on this mountain top.

Sara might have said something, but Warrick couldn't hear it over the rain and the thunder and the wind. But he saw the outline of Sara's body. And he sw her fall off the edge, no, jump off. And fall, disappearing from his view.

"Fuck," Warrick shouted and ran forwards, looking down.

"Warrick," Sara shouted. A branch had caught her. She was pressed against the side of the cliff, great blackness seeming to get closer, wanting to claim her for itself.

"Warrick," she repeated. Her voice was different then it was before. Realization and fear and relief. There was a flash of lightning and for a brief moment, Warrick saw this fear and regret in her eyes.

Warrick wrapped one arm around a thin tree and reached the other for Sara. There was a brief moment and then Sara grabbed his hand. Both their hands were slick with rain and Sara's blood. Warrick felt her slipping.

"Don't let go," Sara said, just loud enough to be heard over he storm.

"I won't," Warrick told her. "I won't."

Still their hands were slick and Warrick knew he couldn't hold on forever. He bent his knees around the tree trunk, his legs now the only thing supporting them both. He reached for her other hand and Sara grabbed it.

Warrick gritted his teeth, remind himself that he had to pull Sara up. He lifted her but even though she was light, he struggled. Sara could sense this. The muscles in Warrick's arms were straining. But had to pull her up.

He got her high enough so she could wrap her arms around his neck, which she did. Ignoring the lack of oxygen, Warrick used his arms to pull himself and Sara back onto the flat ground, off the ledge.

He made it. He dragged Sara with him, pulling her several feet away. He didn't bother to look at her, just hugged his friend tightly.

"God Sara," he muttered softly into his hair. Sara didn't hear him. She was unconscious, everything finally becoming to much for her brain. But Warrick held her lim body close, afraid to let go.

In the city, the clock tower rang twelve times. Midnight.

On that mountain top the storm had disappeared and it was snowing once more, snowing as if to cover all the traces of what had gone on there just moments before. Hiding it under a layer of white powder.