Thanks to all my readers out there, and the wonderful reviews!!

Special thanks to Jenny for help with this chapter!

Chapter Thirteen: Mistakes

The results had come in when he was processing the last of the evidence on his table. Nick for one was grateful; he had done his fair share of lab work in the past, but never this long before. Thankfully he only a few more days of this left. Nick quickly finished cleaning up, slipping something inside of his pocket before heading down the hall.

Wendy was ready and waiting for him, leaning back in the chair as she held the piece of paper. "It took some time, but we finally got something."

"He's in the system?"

"He's got a rap sheet longer than most people on America's Most Wanted. All petty crimes; convenience store robberies, thrift stores, pawn shops…"

"All in Vegas?" Nick questioned.

Wendy shook her head. "Across the states apparently. A Riley Wesjan, last know address was in Miami Florida. He's hit up places there too, as well as places in Georgia, Missouri, Nebraska, Colorado and Utah."

"And now Nevada," Nick added. "Guy gets around. I wonder what brings him all the way out here."

"Probably chased out of each state with lighted torches and pitchforks. Doubt people are happy about having a known criminal escape. I sent the information over to Archie already; he was going to see what else he could pull up on this guy."

Nick thanked her, taking the results with him. He had been slightly disappointed to be honest. Riley would have no connections with the crime lab; he would have come up on the match file if he had. As far as a connection with Greg…Nick doubted that one too. He and Greg were fairly good friends; their circle of friends and acquaintances revolved around one another. Still, he would run the name by him just to be sure…

"Griss," Nick nodded to his boss as he rounded the corner. "Wendy got a hit off DNA; but it wasn't what I thought."

He waited as Grissom checked over the results, not saying anything till Grissom looked up at him. "You can't exactly get into the crime lab without a visitors pass, and even if Riley got in here; there's no way he would have known his way around…or know that Greg took the statements…"

"We assumed the two incidents were linked," Grissom interrupted, "All this proves is that they weren't, there's still several other ways it could have happened."

"You said…"

"We eliminated it Nick. That's what we do; we come up with a scenario, work it through, see if it matches up with the evidence. There were other break-ins at that apartment complex prior to the one in Greg's apartment. As far as the evidence and the media…we're still at a dead end. We come up with a new scenario."

"Walters…" Nick suggested.

"What about Walters?"

"He was…still is our only known suspect in the double homicide. If he is guilty…maybe he wasn't in on it alone."

"You think he had help?" Grissom wondered.

Nick nodded, "Hired someone…paid them under the table. They weren't happy with the pay; happens enough when you get mixed up with their sort. When Michael Walters didn't die…they had the case files swiped. Either they're in the police force, or they have connections…"

"Why just Greg's then?"

Nick shrugged, letting out a sigh. He had wondered the same himself, but now he worked it out in his mind. "They only knew of Greg's statement. He went later in the day than Carla did. News of Walter's condition wasn't released until after she had left."

"Suspect went to the hospital to finish it off; saw Greg taking the notes, and decided that putting Walters in jail for murder was better than killing him. He paid someone to collect the files, and went to the media with the fabricated story, feeling smug that he was only one who had the proof."

Nick let out a sigh, pursing his lips. "You knew about this too."

"It's a gift," Grissom replied quietly. "Keep working on it, and keep me updated with what you find. See what you can learn about our Riley friend as well."

He stood there, shaking his head as the man left. "Why does he always do that?"

They ended up talking for most of the night. It had taken Sara a good twenty minutes to calm down, and even then she hadn't moved from where Greg held her. He didn't mind though; it seemed as though they never had time for this anymore.

Though they talked about many things, the subject of what recently happened never came up. Greg wanted to, but each time he tried Sara quickly changed the subject. It felt almost as though she was trying to avoid it, but playing as though she never really heard him. He wasn't quite sure what to think.

While he wanted to know what had happened, part of him was afraid to know the truth. He wondered mildly if it would be better just to forget the entire thing. But his mind simply wouldn't let it go. It was during the next lull in conversation that Greg took the opportunity to bring it up.

"Why didn't you come?"

Sara said nothing for a moment, but then pulled back, sitting up on her knees. "What do you mean?"

She was playing dumb again; but at least she wasn't trying to change the topic this time. "You didn't come."

"I was busy."

Her answer was short, and a bit snippy, a clear sign that she didn't want to talk about it. But Greg pressed on. "Busy with what?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"The case then?" Greg guessed, slightly agitated now. Sara was a very hard person to talk to when she was like this. She would answer without really answering the actual question.

"What about it?"

"You couldn't get someone else to cover for you for even a few minutes? For all you know I could have been dead or dying."

"You weren't," Sara corrected him. "Besides, you're an adult; you can take care of yourself."

It stung more than he wanted to admit. While he knew she was right, he had grown used to her constant hovering, and prying ways. Now it seemed as though she didn't even care. "How would you know that I wasn't?

"It's called talking. You should try it sometimes."

"I do," Greg defended himself as he sat up. "I talked to Nick, and he said you didn't ask him."

"Why would I? He wasn't there Greg, how would he know?"

Nick had said that too, but Greg wasn't so sure that was the reason. He wanted to believe it, but he also felt that if Sara really did care, she would have asked regardless. The only other logical explanation was that she didn't care; but that was too hard to accept. "He could have."

"But he didn't. Why are you making a big deal out of this?"

"Why are you making such a little deal out it?"

"When our place was broken into before I didn't see you come rushing home for me," Sara pointed out. "Nor did I expect you to. I knew you had things to do."

"That was different."

"How?"

"For one you weren't even there when it happened," Greg responded tensely. "And we don't even know if we were actually broken in then. If we had been, if we knew for sure, then yes, I would have gone home."

"And if I knew you had been hurt so would I," Sara interjected. "I'm sorry I can't respond to your every need and want."

"Sara…"

"No," she shook her head, sliding off the bed. "We're done talking about this. I need to calm down; I'm going to take a shower. Do us a favor and buy both of us a change of clothes downstairs. I have some money in my purse."

"Downstairs?" Greg questioned, raising an eyebrow. "In a gift shop? Do you have any idea of how expensive that is going to be?"

"I really don't care Greg," Sara told him tensely as she headed for the bathroom. "I have nothing else to wear and these smell," she indicated to her clothes. "And sorry to say that those don't flatter you either."

He watched her storm off, a mixture of emotions racing through him. It was hard to say how he really felt, and even harder to grasp onto what affected him more. With a sigh he moved off the bed, picking up her purse that had abandoned on the floor. At least Sara was right in reference to their clothes. He hadn't been able to take anything from the apartment, and the coveralls were starting to get to him. But when he reached in her purse for some money, he found something else entirely.

Sara let the water spray around her. Normally she was particular about this type of thing. Hotels weren't her favorite places in the world, and the bathrooms…she had worked too many cases in her life to know well enough just exactly what could potentially lie in them. But she desperately needed a shower; the nightmare had been horrifying. It was saying a lot; most she could shake off fairly quickly, but this one, this one had lingered.

It had been about her…and her parents. She closed her eyes, turning up the hot water. She had these dreams often enough, but through time had been able to handle them well enough. Except this one was different; it hadn't just been her parents…it had be her and Greg…and their own child, living in the same situation Sara had for so many years.

It was just a dream.

She had told herself this over and over again. But it never got any easier. It didn't help things to wake up to find Greg peering over her, shaking her. It was odd then, she smiled inwardly, that she had only wanted to be close to him afterwards. She needed the reassurance that Greg wasn't like that. At least not yet.

The thought nearly broke her heart. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, trying with little success to dry away the tears that were forming. It had to have been at least a half hour since being in the shower; Sara wondered if Greg had returned yet. With a sigh she turned off the water, stepping out and wrapping a towel around her torso.

Her clothes were there, neatly laid out on the counter, and already turning damp from the amount of steam in the room. Sara hit the switch for the fan and dried off, changing quickly into the fresh linen. It wasn't her first choice in wardrobe, but she assumed it was what she got by allowing Greg to do the shopping. She took her time in drying her hair, attempting to stall as long as possible before going back out. What she would say…what either of them had to say was lost to her. But finally she could avoid it no longer.

She expected many of things; expected him to be angry, and yell at her. Expected him to be quiet and not say anything at all. Even expected that he may be extremely apologetic. But she wasn't expecting the withdrawn look on his face, nor the quiet tone in his voice that almost seemed lethal.

"You were in there a long time."

"I needed some time to myself," she responded. She hadn't seen Greg like this…not for a long time at least. The last she could remember was after the accident, when he had lost his memory. And it scared her.

"When were you going to tell me?"

When she didn't answer he held up the piece of folded paper. Sara felt herself growing sick as she looked at it. She didn't need to see it to know what it was.

"You went through my things?"

"To get your money; it's not like I found this on purpose."

"So the paper just unfolded itself?"

She was growing angry now. How could she explain? She couldn't; Sara had forgotten it was even in there. Her doctor had jotted down some vitamins and iron supplements to help with her weight for her pregnancy. Normally she would have gotten them already, but she hadn't been up to it yesterday. But that still didn't change the fact that Greg had gone snooping through her things.

"You were at the doctor's yesterday then? That's why you didn't show up."

Sara nodded; there was no point in denying the truth now.

"Why lie about it?"

"I didn't lie," Sara told him sternly. It was partially true; "I said it didn't concern you."

"You're health doesn't concern me?" Greg cried, shaking his head. "I've been suggesting that you go see someone for your weight for weeks now."

"My weight?" Sara frowned, trying to catch what he said.

"And you're eating habits," Greg added. "But just because you're too stubborn to admit that you were wrong doesn't mean you have to go behind my back and then lie about it."

Sara finally caught on. Greg didn't know about the pregnancy; she wasn't sure if it was relief she was feeling just yet. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure.

"It was my decision Greg. I don't have to tell you about everything that goes on in my life."

"I would appreciate it if you at least tried."

"You're not my father," Sara said coldly.

"No," Greg responded quickly, looking a bit surprised. "I'm not."

"Then stop acting like him."

She knew it was the wrong thing to say the second the words left her mouth. Though they had been standing on opposite ends of the room Greg looked as though she had physically slapped him. The color had nearly disappeared from his face and there was a haunted look in his eyes as he shook his head.

"I'm not…"

"Greg," Sara started, but was cut off as he shook his head.

"No," he shook his head again, pushing past her to get to the door.

"Wait…don't…where are you going?" she called after him, desperately trying to form a coherent sentence.

He didn't answer, or even look back. It took several long seconds for Sara to realize that Greg had just walked out on her. By the time she reached the hallway he was nowhere to be found. It was then the sickening feeling hit the bottom of her stomach, and she realized that she had just made the biggest mistake of her life.

TBC