Author's Note: Yes! My third update in as many days. I am so good, it's scary. Just kidding. Wow. I am so overwhelmed with your reviews. Ok, that was an exaggeration. I need more before I can justify updating again, seriously…just review. It's painless… not like a shot, I promise.
Disclaimer: Oh I wish I owned CSI and its characters… but I don't. Damn.
Grissom paced anxiously across the cool confines of the CSI lounge. He counted the drips of the coffee maker until it came in a constant stream, no longer matching the rhythm of his footsteps against the scuffed linoleum. He ran a hand through his tousled hair groggily. Biting his lip, he awaited the fresh cup of coffee that would allow him to continue working through the day.
He glanced across the room at Catherine, still asleep on the old, bedraggled couch. She had told him to wake her if she fell asleep, but he didn't have the heart. She looked so peaceful and vulnerable lying there, that he could only watch her. A stray lock of her strawberry blonde hair had escaped from her messy bun and lay across her face. He reached toward her and tenderly tucked it behind her ear. She breathed a tiny, feminine sigh and his heart nearly melted. How he wished that things were different. That Sara had not been murdered, that he was free to confess all of his feelings for Catherine to her. Honesty was not an option he could take right now. How could he tell her the truth? Not only about himself, but about everything.
He stood from his current position, crouched over Catherine, and walked over to pour a cup of the freshly-brewed coffee. Finally, he thought, I can get started again. The strong, bitter scent permeated the small room, and soon reached Catherine. She awoke with a start, her hair and clothes rumpled. To Grissom, she looked altogether disheveled and lovely.
"What time is it?" she demanded.
"Around 9:30 or 10:00 in the morning." Grissom replied patiently.
"Why didn't you wake me?" She cried angrily.
"You needed the sleep." He answered simply "And besides, until Greg comes through with the DNA on that hair you found, we've got nothing to do. I thought it better if you got some rest in before the real work starts."
She started to say that he had been wrong, that she wanted to be awake in case anything happened, but stopped herself. He had been thinking of her best interest, and that touched her. Grissom, if nothing else, was a true friend.
"Thanks…" she muttered sheepishly.
"No problem. Here, have a cup of coffee." He poured her a steaming mug and handed it to her carefully.
"Thank you, Gil."
Their eyes met over the rims of their coffee cups, mutual smiles of contentment mixed with weariness on their faces. A shrill beeping sounded from the pager clipped to Catherine's hip, breaking the silence of the moment. She glanced quickly at the screen.
"It's Greg." She told him. "Let's go."
They made their way through the brightly lit halls of the lab, barely pausing to greet Nick and Warrick as they passed by. When they reached the DNA lab, Greg was in a state of obvious distress. His spiky hair was unkempt and chaotic from the long night, and the faint shadows Catherine had noticed before were now vivid indigo crescents.
"What do you have for us, Greg?" Grissom asked upon entering the room.
"The DNA's back on your hair sample… and I have bad and, well, interesting news."
"Well?" Catherine asked a tad impatiently.
"The sample couldn't provide me with a positive I.D. I just didn't have enough DNA there to work with, I'm sorry."
"Can you at least rule it out as the suspect?" Catherine asked.
"No. There are enough alleles in common that I can't rule it out. But it's not a match, mind you."
"Is that the bad news?" Grissom cut in. "Then what's the interesting news?"
"The only thing I could gather from this data is…" he hesitated before saying "Well, see for yourself."
He handed printouts to both Grissom and Catherine, the spikes of the common alleles highlighted and immediately apparent to both of them.
"Wait…this doesn't mean that…" Catherine began.
"Yes." Greg replied.
"But how can that be? Are you sure this data is accurate?" she continued.
"I triple checked this. I wasn't ready to believe it either, but DNA doesn't lie."
Catherine slumped into an empty computer chair nearby, pushing a shaking hand through her hair. She glanced at Grissom, who remained oddly quiet at this shocking news, his face an unreadable mask.
"I can't believe it…Sara had…"
"A brother." Grissom finished.
She flashed a momentary glance at his face and was surprised at the determination and stoicism she saw there. He didn't seem surprised at all…in fact…
"Gil…" she started, hesitantly.
He simply looked her directly in the eyes, revealing everything and nothing at once.
"Oh my god. You knew. You knew all along didn't you?"
There was nothing to say. He had hoped with all of his heart that it wouldn't come to this. That she would never find out, and that he could go on in this blissful state of deceit. Happiness never lasts, he thought to himself bitterly.
"I can't believe this!" she exclaimed. "How could you keep this from me? From everyone? Don't you realize how this has compromised the case? You can't withhold evidence that pertains to the case, Grissom."
"Don't you think I know that? Believe me, I do. I've wanted to tell you, really I have, but I just couldn't. If I thought it had any bearing on the case I would have told you right from the start, but it doesn't."
"I think it does, Gil." She said, bitterly. "I really think it does. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do."
"Can't you just hear me out, Cath? Please?" He pleaded with her, his eyes imploring her to listen to reason.
"I'm really not in the mood to listen to more of your lies, Gil. You've hurt me before, and you'll hurt me again. But this time you've crossed the line. You withholding this information is a little too much for me to take right now." She cried, before storming out of the room in a rage.
Grissom could do nothing, say nothing. Why did this have to happen? He kept asking himself. But he already knew the answer. He knew that this secret would catch up to him someday, he just never knew how much it would hurt. He also knew what he must do, there was no other option. He had to talk with Sara's brother. What a nightmare, he thought to himself before stalking quietly out of the room, feeling rather than seeing the pain Catherine's anger had left in his heart.
His stomach lurched. There he was. Sara's brother, in the flesh. Oh how he wished things could be different. But this had to be done before Catherine found out. It could only hurt her even more than he already had, and Grissom didn't know if he could bear it.
"Well, here goes nothing…" he murmured to himself. "Hey Nick!" he shouted to the CSI Three in the lounge. "I need to talk to you for a moment."
End Note: Shocking, huh? Yep. That's right. Nick is Sara's bro. I know what you're thinking… gross, right? Well give me a break. I was stuck and this is going to work out fine. Just you wait. You'll never guess where this goes. Only I know… and "I'll never tell…"