Author's Note: Did you know that Adidas Active Anti-Perspirant for Women contains aluminium zirconium tetrachlorohydrex GLY 20 w/w? Bet you didn't. I was rereading Chapter One, and it just occurred to me how cheesy the last line was. Did anybody else find it REALLY corny? I apologize for that. But seriously, thanks for all the reviews (we finally broke 20 – yay!)! Now I am positively giddy! On with the story!

Spoilers: Overload

Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, I wouldn't have to write FanFiction to get the characters to do what I want.

Sara had been asleep in Nick's arms for what seemed to him like a painfully short eternity, if there was such a thing. When she stirred, he woke from his deep thoughts and kissed her tear-stained face, pulling her tighter to him.

"Mornin' again, beautiful," he murmured.

With a kiss, she asked, "How long was I asleep?"

"Mmmm, about an hour. I lost the feeling in my legs after about fifteen minutes."

"Gee, thanks," she replied sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Nick said.

Sara stood up from his lap and moved back over to her own chair. She buried her face in her hands, her hair hanging in front. "So, now that I've made a complete idiot of myself, is there anything you'd like to share?" she asked, somewhat sarcastically. She didn't expect the response she got.

"Yeah, actually. I had a lot of time to think about this while you were sleeping. Now I think it's time to tell you my secret." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them, he began. "There are some people you're supposed to be able to trust, you know?" When she nodded, unsure of where this was going, he continued. "I was nine. She was a last-minute babysitter." Sara slowly came to realize what he was telling her. She could see him cringe as he obviously was remembering what had happened, and soon it was her turn to listen and cry.

A lightning storm was raging outside, unleashing its fury on the Texas farmhouse. All of the Stokes kids were scared of rain and thunder, even Ethan. But Ethan, Isabella, Flora, and Lindsay were out, each at a soccer game or flute lesson. Michele hated babysitting. Not that Nick really needed to be babysat. She hated babysitting because she didn't like the temporary tension that was created between them when the relationship was shifted from brother and sister to babysitter and charge. Nick was sitting on his bed in his room with Michele, talking about a boy she really liked.

Nick laughed at the memory. It was so atypical for a girl to tell her younger brother about her crushes, but to him, it was just second nature. They weren't so much younger brother and older sister as they were partners in crime and best friends.

It was late. The babysitter came into the room, telling the duo that it was time to go to bed. Michele kissed her brother on the cheek, telling him good night and sweet dreams, before she went off to her room.

The babysitter came over to join Nick on the bed. Sitting down next to him, she took his hand and said that he was a good boy. She said that good boys listen to their babysitters and do what the babysitter tells them to. He was a little unnerved that she had taken his hand, but he made no mention of it. She commented that the bed was comfy. Nick stayed silent. Taking her hand out of his, she slid it up his arm and onto the opposite shoulder. Now Nick was getting even more uncomfortable. He shifted his body away from hers, hoping to loosen the emotional grip she had on him now. His attempt was unsuccessful. Her hand now wandered to his knee and made its way slowly up his thigh. Now she pinned him down against the bed.

Nick's heart was racing. He knew what was coming next. He tried screaming for Michele to come and help him, but the babysitter covered his mouth with hers. He tried to back away but couldn't escape because he was on top of her.

After it was over, the babysitter sat up, fixed her clothes, and told him again that he was a good boy. She said, "Good night," and walked out of the room.

Nick felt dirty. He ran to the bathroom, puked twice, and got into the shower. He didn't care that the water was scalding; he picked up one of his sister's loofahs and started to scrub himself all over. His arms he scrubbed until they were raw. His legs until they were red. His torso until it faintly resembled hamburger meat. His hair he shampooed three times with three different brands, just in case one really did work better than another. Then he sat down on the shower floor, letting the water run over him until it turned ice cold as he cried.

"…but I never told anyone until Catherine and I worked a case four years ago. The one with the boy who was being 'rebirthed'. I don't know if you ever heard much of it. We suspected a psychiatrist of having sex with her underage patients. I got personally involved, and when Catherine threatened to have me taken off the case, I told her why," Nick finished off. He hadn't made eye contact with Sara for his entire story. Telling it was like reliving it, and revealing this secret made him feel dirty all over again. When he looked up, crying, he saw her just sitting there staring at him, tears streaming down her face, already blackened by her mascara and eyeliner.

An awkward silence ensued. Finally Sara broke the tension. "I'm glad you told me," she admitted. They stood up and went over to the couch. Nick sat down, and Sara sat right next to him, her head and hand on his chest, as they lay there, the tears silently running down their faces.

Author's Note: Okay, this wasn't a stab at Sara for making her relationally inept or something like that, I just wanted to show how they deal with things differently. Please don't flame me about that, saying how OOC it is or whatever (or preferably not any other reason either, but hey, I'll take a flame over no review at all).