Bobby opened his eyes and immediately felt pain in his head. He groaned. Why had he drank so much last night? What was wrong with him? He wasn't a young lad anymore. He sat up, head pulsing. Where was he anyway? He looked around, noticing he was parked outside the bar. He'd spent the night here apparently.

"That's embarrassing," he muttered, getting out. The sunshine and the heat hit him hard. He wished he had sunglasses. He heard groaning come from the truck bed, and he looked to see Tara sitting up and rubbing her back.

"What the hell?" he asked. "What are you doing in there?"

"I couldn't trust that you wouldn't drive drunk," she defended. "So I stayed here."

"You're crazy," he said, trying to figure out why she was even there to begin with. Last night was a blur to him. He remembered being angry and drinking, that was it.

"Well, someone had to do it," she said, climbing out.

"So, you were here last night?" he asked, feeling sheepish.

"Uh huh. You're quite the drunk, Bobby," she smiled. "Do you remember anything?"

"No," he shook his head. "I don't."

"There's nothing to tell anyway," she said. "Know of a good place for breakfast?"

"Yea," he nodded, gesturing. They walked together.

"You did tell me that Mac killed your parents, and you were looking for him," Tara said softly. "Does Detective Munroe know?"

"Yes," Bobby nodded.

"I'm sure he'll find him."

"He's long gone, Tara. He's a criminal. You'll never find him."

"We'll find him," Tara promised. They entered the diner, and the waitress smiled at Bobby.

"Good morning," she said. "Coffee?"

"Sure," he agreed.

"Me too, please," Tara smiled. She looked over at Bobby, knowing he had no idea she knew about his gambling problem. She knew better than to bring it up. Obviously it wasn't something he wanted to share with anyone except Jack. If and when he was ready to tell her one day, she'd listen and empathize and give her support. For now, she'd keep it to herself.

"Damn it," Bobby said, searching his pockets. "I don't seem to have any cash on me."

"Your money is no good here, remember?" the waitress said to him, returning with the coffees. "Don't worry about it, luv."

"I still wanna at least tip," Bobby argued. His brain was firing on all cylinders. He knew he had had at least a hundred bucks on him yesterday. Where had it gone? Had he gambled? He looked over at Tara, who was digging into her pocket. Did she know? Had she seen him do it? He hoped not.

"I got it," Tara said, putting some change down. Her coffee was amazing. It made the excruciating back pain a little more tolerable. They ordered food, and while they waited, Bobby filled her in on everything.

"I can't picture him as a killer," Tara shook her head.

"He did it," Bobby said angrily.

"Well, then we can put our focus on finding him, but we still have to plan the funerals," she said softly. Bobby bowed his head.

"I'm not good at that stuff," he admitted.

"I'll help. Ginny will too. She's still devastated, but she wants to get to know you still."

"I'm in no mood for her dramatics," Bobby growled.

"She's not all bad. A little self-centered, yes, but she is sweet," Tara defended her. "Give her a chance."

"I was fine being an only child," Bobby said.

"Sisters aren't half bad, you know."

"You've got one then?"

"Oh, no, but I've heard sisters are cool," Tara answered.

"I see," he said, smiling finally. Tara felt good getting him to cheer up a bit. Once they finished eating and went back to their vehicles, Bobby paused.

"Does Stanley know you're here?" he asked. Tara's face went red, indicating that he didn't.

"No," she answered truthfully.

"Why not?"

"I didn't think he'd understand."

"You're his fiancé. Why wouldn't he understand?"

"I'm not his fiancé, Bobby. He never asked," Tara said, turning to the car.

"Whoa, whoa," Bobby said. "Hang on. The rumor mill said he proposed to you the other night."

"It was wrong," she replied. "He didn't."

"But you found a ring..."

"I did, but maybe it isn't for me. Maybe he's looking after it for someone else."

"That's crap and you know it," Bobby laughed. "Why are you convinced otherwise?"

"I don't know," Tara said abruptly. "Can we drop this now?"

"Okay," he agreed.

"See you at the house," she said, getting into the car. Bobby watched her drive away, and he wondered just what was going on in her head right now.

...

Jack rubbed his brow fiercely after talking to Tara. She described what had happened last night, but she didn't ask if Bobby had a gambling problem, which puzzled him. He knew Tara wasn't a stupid woman, that she'd figure out what was going on. Obviously she was keeping it to herself. He was worried about Bobby. His friend sounded very fragile right now, and things could get out of hand quickly. Jack was frustrated that nothing was turning up on their end. He wanted to solve this so Bobby could get closure and start to heal.

"How is he?" Sue asked.

"I wasn't talking to him," Jack replied.

"I know. What did Tara say about him? Is he okay?"

"He's up and down, but that's to be expected."

"Something will come through and help solve this," Sue reassured him. "I just know it."

"I wish I had your optimism," Jack sighed. He was starting to think this whole thing was hopeless.

...

Tara got out of the car and headed for the house. She could hear Bobby's truck rumbling up the drive, but she didn't stop. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him poking around in her relationship with Stanley anymore.

"You found him," Ginny said, looking out the door when Tara came inside.

"Yup."

"That's good. Hey, I found some photos," Ginny said, showing her the album she was holding.

"Should you be rooting around the place like that?" Tara asked. Ginny hung her head.

"No. I just couldn't help myself. I was sitting in the living room and saw them on the shelf, so I looked. I should have waited for Bobby, I know."

"It's all right. Curiosity is normal."

"I just wanted to see what I missed," Ginny sighed. "I wish I could have shared the childhood with Bobby. I think we would have had fun."

"Morning," Bobby said, coming in. He saw the album in Ginny's hand and froze.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, handing it to Tara, who grunted in surprise from the force of the album being suddenly thrust into her stomach.

"For what?" Bobby asked. "Snooping through my mother's things or for coming here in the first place?"

"Bobby!" Tara chastised. Ginny's eyes teared up, and she ran off to the bathroom, slamming the door. He took the book from Tara and put it back on the shelf.

"Why are you so mean to her?" Tara demanded.

"Because. She's not my sister."

"Well, too bad for you because she is."

"Tara..."

"Bobby, just shut up for a second," she cut him off. "She was brave enough to reconnect with your mother, and she was brave enough to come here to meet her. She just found out her biological mother was murdered. She's in just as much shock and emotional state as you are. Give her a break!" They glared at each other, arms crossed.

"I'm leaving," Ginny said, interrupting. Tara spun to face her.

"What?!"

"I know where I'm not wanted," Ginny said, gripping her bag tightly.

"Oh stop," Bobby said angrily. "I didn't say I didn't want you here."

"It was implied," she retorted, jutting her chin at him.

"I'm trying to stay afloat here," Bobby argued. "I just lost my parents. Then I get told I have a secret sister. It's just too much."

"It's too much for me too!" Ginny shouted. "If anything, that should help us get closer to each other."

"Look," Bobby said, gripping his face and rubbing it hard. "I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome. I just...I have a lot on my mind."

"It's okay," Ginny responded. "I know I have a tendency to be a little...dramatic."

"Just stay for a bit. We will be needing help planning the funerals," Tara said, taking her bag from her.

"You mean that?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Bobby nodded. "If bonding is what you want, then bonding is what you'll get." He didn't give her a chance to reply before going to the other room. Tara and Ginny looked at each other.

"Well, it's a start," Tara said, lifting her shoulders a little with a small smile.

"It is," Ginny agreed. "It's all I can ask for."

...

Bobby watched as the girls went through pictures, picking the best ones for the memorial boards. They made "aw" noises and giggled at his childhood pictures. After a while he took one album from them because there was just too many nude photos of his little boyhood self in them. When he saw his mother again in Heaven, he was going to ask her why she took so damn many of them. He couldn't bring himself to look at photos. The last photo he saw of Dean and his mother was at the police station, and they were unrecognizable. The fire had pretty much removed anything familiar from them. His stomach churned again just thinking about it. Detective Munroe hadn't called with any updates. Bobby didn't know if they'd ever find Mac. The man was a ghost when he wanted to be.

"So, when is the funeral?" Ginny asked.

"I have to set the date," Bobby answered.

"I know someone who could maybe help," Ginny offered.

"Dean was friends with the funeral director. I'll go speak with him tomorrow."

"Okay."

Bobby didn't feel bad. He didn't want Ginny's friends involved in this. It just didn't feel right. He still didn't really know her, but he understood she was just trying to offer assistance in some way. She got a point for that.

"I think I have to call it a night," Tara said, yawning. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Bobby reassured her.

"Good night," Ginny said as she went up the stairs. Bobby had set her up in his old room. He stuck to the couch. He still wasn't ready to sleep up there. He watched Ginny looking wistfully at the photos.

"You would have got on well together," Bobby told her, gesturing to the photo of his mother.

"You think so?"

"Yea. My mum had a heart of gold, but she was also tough as nails. You've got her eyes."

"I do?" Ginny asked, touching the side of her face absently.

"Yea."

"I can only imagine how hard this must be for you. I mean, I barely knew her, but you had your whole life with her."

"I take it day by day," Bobby said, clearing his throat.

"I know she loved you. She spent time talking about how great you were when we were on the phone together. She said I'd like you."

"I'm not at my best right now, so don't go by this," Bobby warned with a small smile.

"I know. I get it. You know what? I think I'm going to turn in too," Ginny said. She wiped at her eyes to hide her tears. Bobby let her go. He knew she needed to cry alone. Buster hopped up on the couch with him after she left, and he rubbed the dog's ears slowly.

"You miss them too, eh?" he said. Buster whined, looking up at Bobby. He had a feeling he was going to be returning to D.C. with a dog. After a while, he turned out the lights and tried to sleep.