Plot Summary: Catherine's Story: Catherine was startled at the crime scene by Mickey, who reminded her of a man who raped her when she was fifteen. She confides in Nick, and subsequently kisses him, causing drama between Nick and Greg.
Greg's Story: Greg was perturbed by the little girl who was slaughtered at his crime scene. She reminded him of someone called Lucy and it's been bothering him enough to try anything he can to distract himself from it, which is generally landing him into trouble. He got in a fight with Nick, who accused him of trying to wheedle information out of him and Catherine, and the two are still on rocky waters. Grissom received an unusual card addressed to Greg, with a photograph of Greg's family when he was younger, and a note that said "It's all for you, Greg."
Sara's Story: Sara meets a witness for her crime scene and due to her own troubled past immediately sympathizes with him and his abusive uncle. Last chapter, she discovered he may be more than just a witness and in this chapter... well, you'll see.

Author's Note: I think I covered all my bases. You should be fairly caught up. I know with all the interwoven story lines, you may lose track of what's going on in a few of them. Refer back to this if you ever get confused. I'll do another summation later on in the story, if you guys think you need it. You guys are probably going to be mad at me as I left you with a cliffhanger last chapter that's not resolved in this chapter (yeah, just telling you now so you don't get disappointed). But I give you my solemn vow that the explanation for it has already been planned, written and edited and will be posted tomorrow. For now, though, here's a little of the Sara/Danny storyline. On an unrelated note, Rent! fans, I'm making a La Vie Boheme video for CSI. It's going to rock out loud.

Chapter Eight: A Cry For Help

Sara stared at the phone, reluctant to dial the only number she had, and yet she knew it had to be done. She knew it would be a while before Catherine and Greg linked the shoe to a suspect, and she couldn't be sure if those were Skechers he had been wearing or simply black tennis shoes. She wasn't as much of a shoe connoisseur as she should be. But she had noticed they were small for his height, and he had walked a little uncomfortably. The shoes had been too small for his feet. They had been tattered, too, and Sara wondered when the last time he bought new shoes was.

She knew if he was a suspect, she would have to tell Greg and Catherine, but she had to be sure first. He could have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She needed to test his shoes for blood.

With this in mind, she dialed the number. It rang a couple of times before a groggy Ian Baxter answered. "Who in Sam Hill calls a house at this hour?"

"Mr. Baxter, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'll need to speak to your nephew," Sara said.

"Well, he's not here," the uncle said. "He's in that tree house of his, sleeping outside. Why? Did he get into trouble again?"

"No, sir, still just a witness. Could you get him for me?"

"Yeah, sure," Ian muttered reluctantly, and she heard him set down the phone. She heard the muffled sounds of yelling. "Danny! You get your ass in here now, boy! The police want another word with you."

Sara heard some muffled sounds she couldn't place.

Ian was yelling again. "Danny? Danny! What are you doing in there, boy, is there somebody up there with you? Aw, that's it!"

Sara heard the sound of the phone being picked up. "Ms, uh…"

"Sidle."

"Ms. Sidle, we're going to have to call you back," Ian said before hastily hanging up. Sara stared at the phone for a long time, not knowing what she had done, or what she should do next.

Just then, Warrick and Nick walked in and said hello, making her jump.

"Jesus Christ," she said to them, catching her breath.

"Well it is his birthday," Warrick replied. "You got anything new for us?"

"You got nothing from trace?" Sara asked, looking incredulous.

"Hodges is backlogged," Warrick explained.

"So is Wendy," Sara said. "Great. What other evidence are we waiting on?"

"I got the lowdown from Doc Robbins," Nick said. "The COD is obvious, a bullet to the brain in each instance. The father had some bruises on him, he probably had a scuffle with the perp because he was shot in the arm too, which happened before he was killed."

"Well let's hope Dad got a sample of his killer," Sara said. "And that Wendy finds something on that. Where the hell have you two been, I've been looking for you guys for the longest time."

"I shouldn't even be here at all," Warrick complained. "I helped you guys process the scene, I told Tina I'd be back before midnight which is…" He looked at his watch. "Four hours ago."

"You could have just said no when Grissom asked," Sara pointed out.

"He offered to bake me a pie for Christmas dinner tomorrow," Warrick said. "As an apology to Tina and her family."

"Ooh, what kind of pie?" Nick asked.

"The kind you don't get any of," Warrick snapped.

Nick pouted. Sara rolled her eyes. "Warrick, I think you can go home. Nick and I can handle this. Talk to Grissom."

Warrick nodded and was about to leave when Sara's phone went off. She answered it reflexively.

"Sidle," she said, and then her face drained of color, inciting curiosity to rise in both Nick and Warrick. "Oh my God… Danny, is that you?... OK, I'll be right over." She looked up at Warrick.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay. I'm so sorry, this is an emergency, but I have got to help this kid out."

Warrick grumbled. "Fine. Where are you going?"

"No time," Sara said, and darted past both him and Nick and within seconds, she was down the hall and out of sight.

"Move!" Danny ordered to Mickey, who was gathering up his things. "Now!"

"I'm going as fast as I can here, Danny!" Mickey replied. "How do I find you again?"

"I'll meet you at the library in an hour, two tops," Danny assured. "Now get out of here!"

Mickey made for the door to the tree house when Danny stopped him. "No!" he said. "Ian's coming up that way, go out the window!"

"Out the…?" Mickey looked shocked.

"Come on, Mickey, if you can kill people, you can climb a stupid tree," Danny said, exasperated.

They heard movement at the base of the tree. Mickey and Danny exchanged looks, then Danny pushed him to the window and forced him outside. Mickey balanced himself on a branch then turned to Danny and grabbed his hand, looking into his green eyes. "I'll find you," Mickey promised before quickly kissing Danny.

"What the hell are you doing, boy!"

Danny had never heard Ian's voice so cold. Mickey freaked and stumbled, falling out of the tree. Danny spun around, his hands clutching at the windowsill as he stared at Ian with horrorstruck eyes.

Ian raised his hand and slapped Danny across the face. "So you're a little faggot now?"

"Uncle Ian, no, it's not what you—"

Wham! The punch was a cataclysm of pain and fireworks exploded behind his closed eyelids as he tasted that familiar metallic tang in his mouth. He hid his face in his hands, his whole body tensed as he tried to bite back the throbbing pain that was encompassing his skull. He slid to the floor.

"Ian, please," he sobbed, feeling the tears running down his cheeks. "Please, stop it."

Ian started kicking him again. "I'm not having a little gay boy in my house—"

"I'm not gay!" Danny screamed, his voice desperate as it shook with his sobs. "I'm not, please, Ian!"

"If you're not gay then what the hell were you doing kissing that guy?"

"I didn't!" Danny screamed. "He kissed me! He's my friend, and he… I'm not gay, please Uncle Ian, please!"

Ian stopped and stepped back from the boy, who peeked up at his uncle from a space between his fingers, breathing heavily. "I'm not gay, Uncle Ian. I'm scared."

His uncle stared at him, taking deep long breaths. "Did that guy make you do anything you didn't wanna do, Danny? We can take him to court. We can get money—"

"No!" Danny said adamantly. "No, he's my friend, he'll die without me, he's got nobody else, nowhere else to go, his folks kicked him out of his house and I'm all he has left. And I'm not about to sell him out to you because you want to exploit me to make some quick cash."

"I don't want to exploit you, Danny," Ian said, sounding uncharacteristically understanding. "You're my sister's son."

"And you hate me for that." Danny spat out some blood onto the floor before wiping his mouth on his sleeve, the tears still streaming from his eyes. "You hate me because you think I'm the reason she's dead. You think she loved me more than she loved you."

"I'd be careful what you say, now, boy, you know I have a short temper," Ian said warningly.

"Oh, so you're warning me now, that must mean you're sobering up!"

"Not on Christmas, Danny," Ian said, shaking his head in an extremely rare sign of remorse. "Christmas is about family."

"And Mickey is the only family I've got!" Danny hissed. "So I don't care if he's weird, or he's impulsive, or if he's not too bright. I don't care if he's gay, or if he rarely thinks things through. I don't care about the things he's done because… because…" He got really quiet. "Because he's all I've got too."

Ian was quiet for a long time. "The police want to talk to you again," he said monotonously.

"I'm not gay," Danny said again, knowing by the look on his uncle's stern face that Ian highly doubted this assertion. "I just… I don't know what to do."

"The police want you Danny, don't you understand?!" Ian said, ignoring the gay issue altogether. "You're a suspect now!"

"And you're just gonna sell me out, aren't you? The perfect way to get rid of your sister's biggest mistake!" Danny snapped.

Ian reached out to him. "Danny, I—"

"No, I'm leaving. Good bye!" And with that, he pushed past Ian and left the tree house, climbing down the ladder.

"Don't you walk out on me, boy!" Ian called after him. "I'll call the cops on you!"

"Yeah, I bet you would!" Danny shouted up the tree daringly, but his whole body was trembling in a mixture of fear and pain. He was too bruised. Too broken. He headed down the street until he found a pay phone and dug in his pocket for a quarter and pulled one out, along with her phone number.

He dialed, and spoke with a shaking voice into the phone as thankfully, someone picked up.

"Sidle."

"S-Sara?"

"Oh my God… Danny, is that you?"

He sniffed and wiped the tears and blood away, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm in big trouble."

She couldn't believe how fast her heart was pounding as she drove down the street of the shoddy neighborhood. She scanned street signs for the name he had told her, and made a sharp left turn. She saw him huddled under the poor shelter of a bus stop outside of a dilapidated liquor store that look like it had its window broken on several occasions. She pulled up in the "No Parking— Busses Only" space, doubting any buses ever came to this stop anymore. She leaped out of the car and kneeled next to the poor boy, who was bloody and shaking as he shrank into the corner of the glass bus stop, hugging his legs with his face in his knees.

"Danny?" she said tenderly, shocking him as he looked up startled. His face was bloody and growing a large purple bruise on his swollen cheek. His eyes welled, and without warning he leapt at her and flung his arms around her neck. He was still shaking, and was cold to the touch, but Sara held onto him tightly, balling her hands into fists on his back with silent fury at the man who did this to him.

"It's OK," she whispered to Danny. "It's OK, you're safe now. You're with me, now."

He was crying full force now, and Sara made sure to hold him like she'd never let him go. He was lost, without a family, and with nowhere to go. She knew what that felt like. She had to show him the way. She needed to help him.

"Sweetheart," she whispered into his ear. "Come on, get in the car, I'll take you somewhere to eat and we can get you some coffee, or hot chocolate, or whatever you want to warm you up, OK?"

She felt him nod against her shoulder, so she slowly rose to her feet, taking him with her, and helped him into the front seat of the car before going around and entering the driver's side. She looked at him, once more seeming so tiny in the passenger's seat, as he slumped and folded his arms. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, his cheeks flushing read, apparently embarrassed by the way he had desperately launched himself at Sara.

She smiled at him to reassure him and pushed the hair back from his face in a strangely motherly fashion. He looked at her and returned the smile.

"Uncle Ian said… the police are looking for me…" Danny whispered as Sara began to drive.

Sara licked her lips. "Yeah… I'm sorry, that was me. I didn't want to call him, but it was the only way I could reach you…"

"You called?" Danny breathed, looking surprised. "But I thought…" He trailed off then turned away from her and looked out the window.

Sara noticed. "Yes… Danny, I wanted to talk to you about something." She paused at a stop sign and glanced at his shoes. "What size shoe do you where?"

"What?" he asked. "I don't know… It's been a while since I bought new shoes."

"Mm hm…" Sara nodded and kept driving down the road. "Is there something you want to tell me, Danny? Were you somewhere you weren't supposed to be tonight?"

"W-what are you talking about?" He tried to act cool, but Sara knew better.

"I need you to be honest with me, Danny," she said, calmly but firmly. "I need to know where you were earlier tonight. If you don't tell me, I can't help you."

"I don't want to talk about it," he said quietly.

Sara knew what that meant. "They found your footprint at a crime scene, Danny," she said. "Soon enough, they're going to match it with your shoe. There's blood on it, isn't there?" Though she didn't take her eyes off of the road, she felt Danny's terrified eyes boring holes into her.

"Stop the car," he said. "Let me out."

"Danny, I just want to help you," she said calmly. "I'm not going to turn you in."

"You're… you're not?" He sounded timid, but surprised.

"No, I'm not," she said. "Not yet, at least. Not if you tell me the truth."

"But… it's your job…" he said quietly.

She gave him a fleeting, sad smile. "I know that," she said. "I can't let you go either, of course. But I want to know what happened. Why you were at that crime scene. There's no reason to be scared if you were there on accident. If you saw something you shouldn't have seen."

"I'm gonna have to tell the police eventually now, aren't I?" He sounded dejected, scared.

Sara couldn't lie. So she simply repeated her promise. "I won't turn you in yet, but I can't let you go, Danny."

"Yet," Danny muttered. "I don't want to tell the police. I don't want to talk to anybody about it. I just want everyone to leave me alone."

"Do you trust me, Danny?" Sara asked softly, turning into the parking lot of an IHOP.

He didn't answer for a moment, but then, "Yes."

"Then listen to me," she said. "You're obviously tangled in a very big mess. And I want to help you as much as I can. I'll be with you every step of the way as we sort this out together. I won't abandon you in this, Danny. I know you're a good kid. I know you want to help me." She turned off the engine and looked at Danny pointedly, his wide green eyes staring back at her. "OK?"

His lip quivered, and he looked very reluctant. But eventually, he nodded. "OK," he said.