A/N: I apologize for the long wait. I've been in a writer's block mixed with a new six-week seminar I'm going to and it leaves little opportunity to write. I loved the gun line in the episode 'Daddy's Little Girl' so I very shamelessly used it in this chapter 

I will be getting back to finding Shelly's father in this chapter. But first, how about a little more childhood angst?

Chapter 6 - Sharing Stories/Suspicious Eyes

5:15pm Sunday

Sara walked out of her bedroom after getting dressed into her regular work clothes and planned on getting dinner ready for herself and Shelly but when she walked into the kitchen area, Shelly was already there. She was floating around the kitchen like she had lived there for years. And amazingly it doesn't bother me as much as it normally would to have someone in my space.

She was going back and forth between whisking eggs at the counter and frying up egg soaked bread in the frying pan.

"Damn, it didn't take me that long to get dressed and you're already almost finished some great looking french toast." Sara looked on in awe.

Shelly shrugged. "It was what I did every morning while Rusty was lying on the couch knocked out from the booze. I got up and had to get something made for the other three kids and me. French toast was the only thing I really knew how to cook."

"Rusty?"

"She was my last foster guardian, Ms. Rusterin. God … was she ever a bitch. I was the one that took care of those kids." She shook her head sadly as she flipped the last toast on a plate. "The best one of them all was the worst off. Little Lukas was very new to the game and very scared when it came to people. I was the only person he ever trusted. When I was old enough, they sent me packing and I made damn sure that Lukas was switched to Debbie's house with Brennan. Lukas was only four when I met him and the last time I saw him before I came here he was a strong but shy seven year old."

"Crazy. I'm glad he's doing well." Sara said as they sat down to eat.

A few minutes later, Shelly broke the silence and asked shyly, "No judging, no regrets, right?"

"What? … Oh, the deal … Yeah." Sara answered hesitantly.

"That burn on your high inner thigh that I saw when we were sitting on the sofa earlier; it looks like a flower. Who did that to you?" She asked then took another bite.

Sara looked at her sharply, which only made her shrug. She sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair. "Why do you want to know?"

"Fair's fair. Deal's a deal."

They sat in silence for many minutes, Shelly eating and Sara thinking, Fair's fair, Deal's a deal. Shelly got up to put her plate in the dishwasher and was starting to think that Sara wasn't going to answer her to the point where, when Sara finally did speak, her voice made Shelly jump.

"I was always told that I was Daddy's little girl. I would follow him around, asking as many questions as I could about anything and everything. He would treat me like his little angel, just like a father is supposed to treat their daughter… sorry." She apologized when she noticed Shelly's eyes darken in anger. She continued when Shelly leaned against the counter and waved her hand indicating the apology wasn't necessary.

"No matter how bad the fighting or anything else was, I was always around my father. It's not that I didn't love my mother but I guess since my dad was the bigger of the two he seemed safer to hide behind. They would never involve me in their fights though, until this one time.

I could never remember, not even now, what my brother and mother were doing that night. All I know is that they were out of the house. I never thought about asking my brother and now it's too late 'cause I don't even know where he is, or if he's even still alive."

Sara stood on shaky legs and walked over to the sofa and curled into herself. Shelly cleaned up the kitchen and dinner plates, knowing that Sara needed a little time by herself to think about things. Ten minutes later, she finished with the last dish then grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge and placed them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She sat down slowly beside Sara and gently wrapped her right arm around her shoulders.

Sara leaned into her. "My dad used to do things to me that I always thought were normal. I didn't like it at all but I figured that it was what every dad did to his kids. It started happening just after puberty you know? My dad found out that I hit that time, I was eleven, and he told me that it was now time for me to repay him for the shit that he had done for me as I grew up; now that I was becoming a women you know? God, that's frustrating. Talk about building a complex. 'Become a women, lay down and pay for life.' Whatever."

Sara shuttered. "This night was different though. He said it was time for him to mark me as his…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Twelve-year-old Sara Sidle was lying on her bed reading one of her favorite novels, Moby Dick, when she heard him coming up the stairs. She tried to understand why her father always hurt her whenever her mother left the house but she just couldn't. The only thing she really understood was that whenever her mother left and she heard her father pounding up the stairs, she was going to hurt.

This time was no different.

Micheal Davis Sidle swung the bedroom door open and smiled widely at his beautiful young daughter. "Already on the bed waiting for me huh?" He asked lightly.

"N… no actually. I was … I was reading my book. Can we read my book together Daddy?" She asked, trying to take his mind away from hurting her.

No such luck.

Micheal shook his head and grinned evilly. He stood beside her bed, towering over her. "Toss the book on the desk." He demanded. She threw it over and watched as it slid across the wood. She looked back up and Micheal smiled at the fear in his daughter's eyes. "This time is going to be fun."

"What … what do you mean Daddy?" Sara's voice, sounding more like a five-year-old then twelve, quivered.

"You're just too cute and precious you know that? Your cute little freckles, your bouncy brown hair, your very lovely lips. You're just too much. So, I'm going to make sure that anyone else who ever tries to take what's mine sees that he's mistaken." Sara looked on as her father pulled a lighter from his pocket. He then pulled out a small metal branding tool from behind his back. "This, my little flower, is what I will use to make you mine permanently."

"But Daddy, that looks hurtful."

"Only for a few second Baby. Nothing much." He held the flower shaped brander over the flame of the lighter for several minutes as young Sara tried to plead with her father.

"Please Daddy, don't do this. I'll do anything but I … I don't like fire. Please. No Daddy."

But he wasn't listening.

He easily pinned her scrawny arms above her head in his left hand. "If you move your hands from this spot it'll hurt even more." He growled. The one thing he hated most was when his stubborn headed daughter decided to fight back.

Sara nodded as tears began to stream down her face. She glanced down as he ripped her pants down her legs. She quickly closed her eyes as her father, the man who was supposed to protect her from this kind of stuff, slowly brought the burning brander down to her thigh. It touched, ever so lightly, against her thigh and she cried out in pain before Micheal covered her mouth with his hand. He pressed it harder against her and she managed to bite down on his hand and scream.

Downstairs, Laura Marie Sidle had just entered her house from the grocery store when she heard her daughter's scream. She dropped her bags and ran to the kitchen to grab the first weapon she saw.

Meanwhile, upstairs in young Sara's bedroom, Micheal removed the brander from his daughter's thigh and smiled proudly at the beautiful design. "Beautiful art for a beautiful creature my Flower." Sara recoiled at his now disturbing nickname for her. She looked on fretfully as the door swung open yet again.

Laura Sidle didn't know what came over her. All she did know was that when she opened that door and saw her husband standing over her little girl while her pants were down and she was crying, she saw red.

Without a second glance at her daughter, Laura raised the butcher's knife above her head and brought it back down into a very shocked Micheal, right below his left shoulder blade. He yelped in pain as Laura pulled the knife out and, as he turned around to face her, she brought the knife back down into him; This time into his right shoulder.

Sara scurried off the bed and jumped into her closet. There, she found a pair of pants and pulled them on then sat back and listened to her parents fighting in her bedroom. It's not like she hadn't seen the fighting and blood before.

Laura pulled the knife back out of his shoulder as Micheal dropped to his knees in pain. He clutched his shoulder in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. "Lau… Laura you crazy bi… bitch." He spat. "What the fuck do … do you think you're doing?"

"You have hurt this family for the last time Micheal! You can hurt me all you want, I can live with the pain. But I vowed that as soon as you touched one of my babies, you wouldn't be touching anything other then dirt through a wooden coffin!" She yelled.

Micheal laughed mercilessly which quickly became coughs and gurgles as blood pooled in his throat from his internal bleeding. "You can say or … do what you want Bitch." Micheal was gasping for breaths now. "I don't … give a shit." He laughed again and looked Laura in the eyes. "It wasn't the first time I had our daughter and she enjoyed it with me." He spat his blood on her shirt.

Laura looked on, shock and hurt running circles in her heart. It wasn't the first time? What kind of mother am I if I couldn't even figure that out? My baby was being hurt. Oh god. Laura couldn't take anymore. With one deep breath she raised the knife in her right hand to the left side of her head and brought it back down at an angle so it sliced his throat.

When Sara heard no more noise out in her bedroom, she took the chance and stepped out of her small hiding spot. What she saw made her turn around back into the closet and throw up. It's not like she hadn't seen the fighting and blood before; only this time it was so much worse. Blood covered her bed, her bookcase, her dresser, and every wall of her formally yellow room. She looked up when she heard her mother's voice.

Laura was slouched against the door, her knees brought up against her chest, the knife sitting red and grotesque on the floor beside her. "I'm horrible. Not good as a mother, not as a wife. I killed him. He's gone now but he'll come back. They always do. Unfinished business and all that. Yeah, he'll be back to finish off what he started. He'll be back. He'll be back."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Apparently the neighbors heard the screaming and, not for the first time, phoned the cops on us. Only that time it was different."

Shelly sat holding Sara tightly around her shoulders as she shook with her story. She tried to lighten the mood. "Wow, look at us. We are definitely two of a kind eh?"

Sara laughed lightly before sniffling and sitting up. "Sorry about this. I've talked to only one other person about this before but never in detail. Grissom would've probably run away if I was to talk about the details." Sara shook her head and started towards the bathroom.

"No need to apologize, Sara. I don't mind listening." Sara nodded and closed the bathroom door to clean herself up.

When she came out she glanced at the clock on the wall. 7:02. Almost time to head in to work. "Hey Shells," She noticed the young girl still sitting in the same spot on the sofa with a wide smile spread across her face. As she sat down beside her, she noticed why.

"Wanna see a picture of Brennan?" Shelly angled her cell phone so that Sara could see the display. There sat Brennan in his crib, his small right foot coming up into his mouth to be sucked on. His bright blue eyes shown up to Debbie's camera phone as she took the shot. He must have just woken up because his curly, light brown hair was standing up all over the place.

"Wow, isn't he a cutie." Sara cooed. "I thought you said earlier that he was blonde? And I know you don't have curly hair so I'm going to guess that his father does?"

"Wrong. I don't know where he gets his curls. His sperm donor has straight reddish blonde hair. And Brenn did have blonde hair but it has slowly darkened to a light chestnut colour."

Sara looked back at the picture of the smiling baby and furrowed her brows. The smile itself was familiar, along with the hair and eyes. She must have had a funny look on her face because when she looked up at Shelly she had an eyebrow raised in question. That too suddenly looking familiar and Sara couldn't pinpoint why.

"He looks kind of familiar." She said then looked at the picture again before standing up and going towards the kitchen to pack a meal for work. It can't be. Sara thought. No way would it … no.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

9:35pm

Sara entered CSI with a heavy head. She had been thinking none-stop about the picture of Brennan and the familiarities that she only seemed to notice after seeing that picture. Their eyes, hair color, Brennan's curls, Shelly's high cheekbones, and if she had the chance to look at that picture again, she could have sworn that Brennan's legs looked a little off. But there's still no way. He would have known. He would have never ever treated anybody like that… but then again… No!

She made her way quickly to the locker room and sat down on the bench, trying unsuccessfully to clear her head. She needed to switch gears to work.

She managed to make it to the break room but as soon as she sat down to wait for assignments, it all came rushing back. How am I supposed to work with him if all I see is Shelly and, more so, that little boy? The hair, the eyes, the nose, the lips. She smiled at that thought and how many times she had imagined Grissom's lips. But never in this sense. They look so much alike but there is no way, absolutely no way Grissom would ever leave someone hanging or treat anyone the way that Shelly's mother said he did. No way.

Then she thought of all the times he had hurt her over the past few years. But never has he even begun to treat me as bad as Shelly is saying he treated Rebekah. She furrowed her brows in thought.

Also waiting for assignments were Catherine, Nick, Warrick, and Greg. They all sat around the table talking up a storm amongst each other while Sara sat more off into the corner.

"Sara?"

But there is just no way. I mean they look like each other and …

"Sara?"

… act like each other but just no … then again Brennan's legs did look a little bowed, but he's not even one yet so it could be that…

Nick got up and walked towards Sara.

… he is still developing. But the curls? Shelly said that neither her mother nor Brenn's father nor anyone on his side of the family had curls so it has to be from Shelly's father's side.

Nick placed his hand on Sara's shoulder, which made her jump. "Sorry 'bout that but you seem to be in la-la land. Where did you go?"

Sara smiled up at him. "Nowhere important."

"Yeah right," Catherine piped in from the table. "What'd you do during your days off that has you so … preoccupied?" She raised her brows in question while smiling coyly.

Sara looked around at the three expectant and smiling faces of Catherine, Nick, and Warrick. She then caught a glimpse of Greg and he looked a little uncomfortable but smiled anyway.

She smiled to hide the anxiety and turmoil going through her head. "It was a very interesting time off."

"That's it? You're not going to tell us anything more?" Nick smiled.

"It was really nothing guys." Sara waved them off. That's when Grissom walked in and everything she had been thinking about before came rushing to the front of her mind again. The curls, the eyes, he's pursing his lips like Shelly does when she's thinking. She looked down at her hands. Damn it. It just can't be him. It's too far-fetched. Way too far.

"Sara?"

She looked up into Grissom's eyes as he stood in front of her trying to get her attention. She looked around and noticed that the others had already left for their assignments. She smiled shyly. "Sorry. I was just thinking about something."

Grissom nodded. "It's alright." He walked over and poured some coffee into his travel-mug. "I was just saying that you're with me. We have a 419, gun shot victim. Brass is on the scene and says it looks pretty cut and dry but we'll be the judges of that." He turned back around and smiled gently at her. "Shall we go?" He motioned her towards the door.

Sara stood up and started walking out the room but stopped right before the door and turned around making Grissom almost run right into her. She looked up and into his eyes, trying to make sure that she didn't see any hint of lying. "Does the name Shelly mean anything to you?"

"Uhhh… no." Grissom answered. He looked at her like she had grown a second head. "Is it supposed to?"

What a loaded question. Sara shrugged, "No but… I don't know. I guess not." Then she turned and walked down the hall and out to the Denali.

Grissom stood there a second. Is she drinking again? He thought then, shaking his head, he too continued to the Denali.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

2:24am Monday

Sara returned back to the lab after, like Brass had said, a very cut and dry shooting. In the defense of his $200,000 car, the original victim, Mr. Jeffery Sminton, had shot the deceased. The deceased, 21-year-old Antony Michea had been trying to break-in and steal the car but when Mr. Sminton had interrupted, the deceased pulled out a knife and Mr. Sminton pulled out his registered handgun.

"Who brings a gun to a knife fight?" Sara had asked.

"The winner." Grissom had answered.

Sara smiled remembering the twinkle in Grissom's eye and the boyish smirk. God, have I ever missed that the past four years. She thought.

Rather then become glum about the past, Sara decided to think about the future. She headed to the DNA lab to do a little research. She printed off the DNA profile of Grissom. I'll bring it home and compare it to Shelly's. Though she doubted that Grissom could be the man that Shelly described, with the similarities in personalities and physical features, she just couldn't shake that feeling.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

7:14am

"Okay, thanks for letting me know. And Deb, thank you very, very much for everything you're doing."

"I do what I can for my family."

"Thank you again. And say thank you to Sage and the boys for me."

"Will do. Love ya kiddo."

"Love ya too. Bye Debbie."

Sara walked into the apartment just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation on this side of the phone. "What's going on now? Is everything okay?" Shelly had told Sara earlier about Rhory hanging out by Debbie's house and about how Sage and a few other guys had volunteered to stand guard for her.

"Everything is fine. Debbie was just letting me know that, while Rhory was away for a few minutes, Sage and the boys managed to sneak Brennan over to a neighbor's house until Rhory gives up."

Sara nodded and went to place the file folder that held Grissom's profile into her dresser alongside Shelly's case folder. She would compare them later; for now she needed a break from thinking about it.

She walked back out into the living room. "So… do you want to tell me about Debbie?"

"Like what?" Shelly asked as she finished her first piece of toast and handed Sara the other one.

"I don't know. With everything that you were into back then, how did you meet a person that would go through all this? And didn't you say she started fostering just for Brennan? Why?"

Shelly blushed. "She did it as payback because I saved her son at school. He's 16 now but at the time he was 12." She took a deep breath. "Little Deryck was walking down the hall when this bulldozer looking ogre guy started fighting with J-Q who was in the Gun Runners. He was definitely one of the ones that you did not mess with. I know personally." She said bitterly.

"He pick on you?" Sara asked compassionately.

"No. I picked on others with him." Shelly forged on through Sara's disapproving expression. "Anyway, so J-Q pulls fire and cocks it, ready to shoot. I wasn't even thinking about myself. As soon as I saw Little D step out of the class, unaware that he was walking into a shootout, I jumped and dumped, as we called it. Jumped to him, dumped him down. If I didn't then he would have been shot. Well," Shelly took another deep breath.

"When his mom heard what I did, she said that she would do anything and everything in her power to help me if I ever got into trouble. So, when I told her I was preggers, she rushed her ass out and got registered for foster care since she knew that a kid in the system can't take care of their own kid.

She demanded that B stay with her and that's where I was staying when I got the boot when I turned 18."

"Holy shit."

Shelly smiled at Sara's reaction.

"You lived one hell-of-a-life kid. Ever thought of writing it as a story?" Sara asked half-joking.

Shelly laughed lightly. "I'd like it to have a happy ending first."

That sentence brought Sara back to reality as she watched Shelly pull out her cell then start to bounce up and down on the couch after receiving a new picture of Brennan. She remembered the folders inside her dresser that held two DNA profiles that could change the lives of one of her friends as well as this fragile young girl that was sitting excitedly beside her looking at one of many pictures of her son. Possibly Grissom's grandson She thought. Before she could think more about that she needed sleep for her emotionally and mentally taxed brain.

Saying goodnight to Shelly, who was taking the couch this morning, Sara walked into her room and quickly dove under the covers, vowing to not think about those damn profiles.

FAT CHANCE! She scoffed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

11:25am

She had been lying in bed for three hours trying her hardest to not think about the profiles inside her dresser.

It wasn't working.

She flipped on the bedside lamp and went to grab the folders. She brought them back to her bed and set up shop in the middle, with her pillows fluffed up behind her and her blankets used as a table.

She pulled out the profile that read Shelly Gillian O'Brien and placed it on the flattened blanket. Next, she pulled out the profile that read Gilbert Aaron Grissom and placed it beside Shelly's. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them.

"No." She whispered in disbelief. "No fu … No way." She sat in the middle of her queen sided bed, shaking her head and feeling very small. "There's no way Grissom is that man she described. He's nothing like that … no way … but this says… oh god." She groaned and placed her head in her hands. "How am I going to tell him this?"

That's when she heard the commotion going on in her living room.

"He did what? … How could he! … Where! … When!"

Sara raced into the room to the site of Shelly pacing feverously with her now closed cell phone in one hand and Sara's old backpack in the other. Shelly threw the bag onto the couch and started throwing food and bottled water into it. She then threw an extra pair of pants and shirt.

"What are you doing?" Sara practically yelled over Shelly's panicky babble.

When Shelly turned towards her, Sara was taken aback by her expression. After everything Shelly had told her, this was the first time she looked absolutely out of her mind. Tears streaked down her face and her eyes were wide with pain, shock, and fear.

"What's the matter Shelly?" She asked softly, walking to her to comfort her.

Shelly stepped back from Sara's comfort. "He's here." She stated angrily, walking now towards the door.

"Who's here? Where are you going Shells?"

"Rhory. Rhory is here for me. He got to Debbie and she's now in the hospital with a cracked skull and a broken arm. She told him that Brenn wasn't with her anymore. She told him that she shipped him to me because Rhory didn't know where I was; she thought we were going to be safe. He found a print out of the area that you live in because Debbie was going to try to come out here sometime and now he's here for me. He's here to get rid of me so that he can take Brenn." Shelly was talking so fast that Sara could barely understand her.

"Settle down Shells. Your father and I can help you. We have friends in the department. Captain Jim Brass can set up something to protect you."

Shelly shook her head and started back to the door again. She paused with her right hand on the handle. "What did you say?" She asked as she slowly turned back around.

"I said your father and I…"

"You know my father? Not just know who he is but you said that you both have friends who could help. You know him?" She yelled.

Sara nodded. "I compared your DNA to one of my co-workers who you reminded me so much of. His name is Gil Grissom."

"Your boss? The one you were telling me about? The one you like?" Shelly asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's the night shift supervisor and he can help you. He knows many people…"

"No … just no." Shelly shook her head. "I'm not going to be like 'Hey man, guess what, I'm your long lost daughter but I won't be here for long because some dude is trying to fuckin' kill me.' Yeah, I'm not going to put him through that. Not to mention how much danger I would be putting him in. No"

"So where are you going? At least let me help." Sara begged.

"No … I can't. I've already put you in enough danger just staying here. If he just finds out that I stayed with you never mind the fact I told you, he will kill you too. Thank you for everything Sara. I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful but I'm not letting you help me this time. I'm leaving."

Shelly slammed the door and took off.

Sara went straight to her cell.

"Sara, this better be good." He half-joked.

"Jim, I need a state-wide BOLO out on an eighteen year old girl." She asked of the homicide captain.

"What are you talking about Sara?" He asked as he sat up in his bed.

"I need a BOLO. She's been staying with me but just bailed out going east on Tucan Road after she got a call on her cell that someone was after her. Please Jim." She pleaded.

"Okay, details." He demanded, pulling out his pad of paper from his bedside table.

"Eighteen year old, caucasian female. Medium length brown hair, blue eyes, about 5'3", and speaks with a slight Irish accent. Last seen wearing a blue and black Toronto Blue Jays baseball cap, Chicago Cubs t-shirt, and black button-up pants. I lost sight of her after she turned left onto Tucan Road. She's a brilliant girl with a few problems, Jim. Please find her." She continued to beg.

"Okay, okay, settle. I'll help in anyway and as much as I can." Jim soothed.

"Do you know where Grissom is?"

"Gil? Last I heard he went home."

And then he heard the sound of the phone disconnecting.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: Thank you all very much for being patient with me. I know it's been over two weeks since I last updated. I hope you enjoyed getting back on topic this chapter. There will be much more drama up ahead as well as Grissom's reaction.

The rest of the chapters (excluding the epilogue(s) if I do any) have already been written down and I just need to transfer them on my computer then load them so they should be updated more often. I just need to make time to type it up.