AN: Hope everyone is well. And, katvrah, you will get your answer soon :)

Take care and enjoy.

CHAPTER 9

"And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones.
'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.
Setting fire to our insides for fun."

Daughter - "Youth"

CATHERINE POV

When I wake up, seeing the rays of sun filtering through the blinds, I take in the view of the early morning around me. Raising a brow, I note in surprise that Sara isn't there. She's usually awake when I wake up, yes, but she's also usually still in the room.

Stretching and glancing at the clock, I drag myself out of bed. It's been awhile since I've slept for more than just a couple hours a night. In fact, I think my last good nights sleep was in Washington the night before I got that damn first package. Last night, experiencing all the thoughts running through my head, I never expected to get any decent sleep at all.

But, at some point, my exhaustion must have overtaken my overactive imagination, allowing me to finally get the sleep I've been desperately needing.

Glancing at Sara's empty spot near the window, I fear that the brunette wasn't as fortunate.

Moving quietly through her house, I walk around, not finding her in any of the rooms.

For the first time, her absence starts to cause me anxiety. I'd assumed she'd gotten up early, but what if something else happened?

Heart rate picking up, I finally think to look outside the house.

Sure enough, in the back yard, sitting along the edge of a very alluring pool is Sara.

This is the first time I've really had the chance to observe her backyard during daylight, and it's clear that this is an area of the house the brunette paid particular attention to.

In the center is a large lap pool, deep colored stonework surrounding the water. The yard itself has a plethora of vegetation, offering privacy from her neighbors and a feeling of greenery and lushness that one doesn't often get in Vegas.

"Good morning," I greet, watching Sara turn to face me in response to my voice.

"Morning."

Noting her wet hair and the towel draped over her shoulders, I gesture to the pool.

"Go for a morning swim?"

"Yeah," she responds, turning her eyes back to the water.

I can see the brunette is feeling particularly talkative today.

Though, judging from her appearance I think her silence has more to do with exhaustion than anything else.

It's become clear to me that Sara doesn't feel comfortable falling asleep at night, likely feeling some sort of protective obligation to stay awake and watch over me. But, that's not something she should feel obligated to do, and it's not something that's sustainable.

Seeing her downcast expression, however, I know now isn't the time to bring up the issue. The poor girl looks about ready to fall over into the water.

"Want to grab some breakfast and head in?" I offer.

If I can't address the sleep issue right now, perhaps I can work towards the weight loss issue. The brunette's been working herself ragged helping me, the least I can do is try to help her as well while I'm here.

"I already ate, but go ahead and grab something."

Or not.

Studying her, I debate for a good minute or so whether to push any of the issues circling through my head. Ultimately, I decide that we have a long day ahead of us, and I'd rather start it off without an argument.

There will be plenty of time for all that later.

"Are you going to share?"

"Hmm?" Sara answers distractedly, eyes staring at the paper in her hands.

"I accidentally used your toothbrush this morning."

"Uh huh…"

"There's a spider in your hair."

"Uh huh…"

"I put meat in your coffee."

"Mmm hmm."

"I forgot to put on underwear."

Sara finally furrows her brows, looking up at me with a confused expression.

"What are we talking about?"

"Oh nothing," I shrug. "Just talking to myself over here."

"I'm sorry," Sara breathes out, putting the paper down. "I guess I was a bit lost in thought."

"That's one way of putting it," I mutter. "But," I clear my throat, "you were obviously thinking hard about something. Care to share?"

Sara shrugs, eyes returning to the paper. "It's a list of the evidence on this case. I keep thinking there must be a way to use just one item on this list to give us some answers. I just…"

"Just what?"

"I don't know, it's just something I read once."

"Which was?"

"No," she shakes her head. "It hasn't been proven. Hell, it's barely even a theory. It was just one study, with such a small sample size. Hardly credible."

"Sara."

"We need something better, the theory is sound, but in practice the outcome is completely variable, and definitely not admissible in court-"

"Sara!"

Head snapping up, she looks at me. Seeing my expression, she swallows, rubbing her temples.

"There was an article about sampling items not predicted to carry DNA evidence for DNA."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning the previous constraints for DNA mediums and exposure levels may be too conservative."

"Meaning?"

Sara glances down the list before putting it to the side, reaching out to grab the evidence bag holding the packaging from our latest present from the killer.

"We tested the paper packaging and tape for DNA and fingerprints."

"There was nothing."

"He's too smart for that," Sara nods. "But we didn't look at the rest of the package."

This time I remain silent, waiting for her to continue.

"If you're leaning over this package, trying to carefully wrap it without leaving any DNA evidence behind, what is one thing you can't control?"

"Well, potential sources of DNA would be skin, saliva, blood…none of which were evident."

"What else is a source of DNA?"

I shrug, "Tears, urine…"

Sara leans over the package, imitating our killer trying to package everything precisely.

Looking at her, I shake my head. "You can't be serious…"

Sara straightens up, her expression telling me just how serious she is.

"The article used swabs from different materials individuals exhaled on or close to. The threshold for DNA retrieval from the saliva in someone's exhalations was shockingly low for certain mediums. Mediums which included…"

She gestures to the thick brown packaging paper.

"Look," she holds up her hands at my expression. "I know it's crazy."

I think for a few moments before shaking my head. "It may be crazy but right now it's all we got. What's there to lose?"

Sara's eyes remain on mine for a minute before she cuts open the evidence seal, putting on gloves before reaching inside to retrieve the packaging material from inside the evidence bag.

Taking multiple swabs from multiple locations, Sara neatly lays them out, labeling each one before passing them down to me.

Collecting them all together, I excuse myself to bring them directly to the DNA lab.

This case has us grasping at straws, playing defense and waiting for the killer to act again before we have a new lead to pursue.

If there's any shot at obtain any sort of advantage, I'm more than willing to take it. Even if the method is insane.

Waiting for the DNA to run, Sara and I retreated to the break room, grabbing a coffee and trying to distract ourselves from all our hopes currently swirling through chemical analyses.

Settled in the corner reading a forensics journal, Sara's been quiet. That's why, while engrossed in my own journal, I'm startled when I hear her groan.

Looking over, I see her head propped up on her hand, but instead of reading the article on the table in front of her, her eyes are closed.

"Sara?"

"He was alone…"

Furrowing my brows, I recall the similar scene in the locker room. It's evident that Sara's finally succumbed to her exhaustion and is asleep, and once again her dreams seem to be anything but pleasant.

"Stop…bleeding curtains…"

"Sara…" I call gently.

"You have the knife…"

"Sara, sweetheart…"

"You have to be more forceful that that."

Glancing up in surprise at the voice, my eyes fall on Morgan, standing in the doorway watching the brunette with a sad expression.

"This happen often?" I raise a brow, glancing between her and the brunette.

"A couple times," Morgan answers distractedly, still watching Sara.

"When did they start?"

I've known Sara nearly ten years, and I can say I've only caught her sleeping a handful of times, and she certainly didn't have nightmares like this.

At least not that I knew about.

Morgan shrugs, and I can tell she's hesitant about betraying her friend. She's always looked up to the brunette, and her and Sara have always had a special friendship ever since the blonde came to Vegas.

"Morgan, I'm only asking because I'm concerned. I've…" I trail off, also battling my loyalties to Sara. "I've noticed some things as well."

Morgan considers my words, and in the end she seems to decide that this is her chance to finally discuss her concerns with someone else who shares them.

"Since Basderic."

I nod, having suspected this.

"Do you think they're related, that they're about what he did to her?"

Morgan is silent for a bit.

"I don't know," she eventually answers. "Maybe, partly," she trails off. "But I think it's more than that."

I look over at Sara, letting out a long breath.

"So do I," I whisper.

Morgan takes a hesitant step further into the room.

"The guys don't know," she tells me, her gaze now moving to mine. "She'd kill me if they found out."

"I don't plan on making this public knowledge," I tell her. "But, Morgan…this…she…" I shake my head tensely. "Something isn't right. I'm worried about her."

I trail off, and the young blonde nods.

"I know." She swallows tightly. "Me too."

I see the sorrow in her expression, the concern and care as she watches Sara as the brunette continues to struggle in her sleep.

"Do you know anything about the phone calls she's been getting?"

I'm not proud of digging into Sara's personal life like this, but this may be my one chance to get some answers, because Lord knows the brunette has been anything but forthcoming.

Morgan looks over, a bit surprised.

"She's still getting them?"

"Who are they from?"

Morgan shakes her head. "I don't know, I just noticed her keep avoiding calls when we would be working together. They stopped though. Or at least I thought they had…"

Morgan and I both watch Sara, the brunette's expression pained and tense.

"We should wake her."

Morgan nods, grimacing as Sara's injured hand clenches tightly into a fist.

"You mind if I do it?" she questions quietly.

"Not at all," I raise my hands, thinking of the disaster it was the last time I tried to wake her.

Moving up alongside Sara, Morgan gently places one hand on Sara's back while the other takes hold of the wrist of her free hand.

Watching her practiced movements, I wonder just how many times Morgan has caught Sara like this. I think her "couple times" answer was a bit of a white lie.

"Sara," Morgan states gently near her ear.

Sara stirs, but doesn't wake.

"I'm sorry, Sar," Morgan breathes out.

Then, without warning, she uses the hand on her back to grab Sara by the back of her shirt. Together with the hand gripping her wrist, Morgan swiftly pulls Sara upward to her feet.

Jerking awake, Sara immediately fights against the hands grabbing her, but Morgan is prepared for this, pushing Sara swiftly into the counter behind them, keeping her body restrained against the hard surface.

"Sara," Morgan calls. "Relax, it's me."

Sara's eyes meet Morgan's, the stoic brunette's jaw tensing tightly as she fights to calm her breathing.

"I'm sorry," she gets out between ragged breaths.

"Shh," Morgan shakes her head. "Stop."

"No, you shouldn't have to-"

"Stop," Morgan repeats sternly. "We've been over this."

Sara remains quiet, but her expression holds all the remorse Morgan won't let her voice.

Moving her grip from restraining to supportive, Morgan gently squeezes Sara's hands before taking her hands off the brunette and moving back.

As she does, Sara notices me for the first time, her body tensing sharply as her eyes meet mine.

She knows I've seen everything that just happened, knows I've now witnessed for a second time one of her nightmares and her violent reaction to them.

Clearing her throat, Sara straightens to her full height.

"I'm…" she swallows, eyes now avoiding everyone's. "I'm going to go update DB on our progress on the case."

Not waiting for a response, she exits, leaving Morgan and I in concerned silence.

"Holy shit!"

Sara and DB both jerk their heads to face me. Sara had still been updating DB on our progress, and now both are staring at me from across the hall in his office.

"Holy shit!" I exclaim again, my eyes wide as I waive the paper in my hand. "Get in here!"

Sara smirks slightly while DB looks concerned for my health.

"Catherine?" DB raises a brow. "To what do we owe that warm invitation?"

I place the paper flat on the table, pushing it across to them.

Looking it over, Sara recognizes immediately what it is.

"Oh my God…" she breathes out. "It worked?"

"What worked?" DB questions, still reading over the report.

"Our hail Mary pass," I mutter, watching Sara's expression as she glances through the report.

"But wait," DB states. "This DNA result has multiple matches."

"Due to the low threshold of DNA being used," Sara explains, still looking over the report. "You have less markers to use for the algorithm, leaving you with the possibility for multiple partial matches. Hundreds, even."

"But we didn't get hundreds," I smile eagerly, feeling an excitement I haven't yet felt working this case. This is officially our first beneficial lead.

"No," DB agrees, now looking impressed. "You got four."

Sara turns, stepping up to the closest computer.

"Names?"

Giving her the information for the matches, she runs them through the system to bring up full reports.

Reading through the results, Sara's expression is focused.

"Not four, two," she looks up at me, for the first time looking hopeful. "One of the possible matches, James Vaughn, was a paramedic who died three years ago on duty responding to a car blaze. Another possible match, Fredrick Haverston, is in the system because he's currently serving a life prison sentence for grand larceny."

"That leaves two," I breathe out.

Sara nods, taking a deep breath.

"We have Paul Kenner, a commercial truck driver. Did some brief time for mostly petty crimes like vandalism of a competitor's vehicle and public intoxication. Got laid off from his truck company. No current address listed."

Sara clicks through more screens.

"Last match is a different story. Charles Buford. CEO of a fortune 500 company. In the system because he used to work for a government contractor." Sara glances up. "He's headquartered out of Vegas."

We're all silent, taking in the information.

"There's always the chance it's neither of these guys," I state. "Could be someone who's not in the system."

"True," DB agrees. "But if the DNA matches were limited to only four possibilities, it indicates the matches must be relatively specific. The killer could very well be one of these two guys, and you may have your first real shot at nailing this bastard."

Sara's and my eyes meet, both registering the implications of this moment. Both excited, nervous, and hesitant to get our hopes up.

"I just can't believe this worked in the first place," I shake my head, mouth spreading into a smile as I watch the brunette.

Approaching her, despite our awkward parting earlier, I can't help myself from pulling her into a hug and placing a grateful kiss into her hair.

"I always knew you were a genius," I smile. "But I underestimated the true capabilities of that hard head of yours."

Sara snorts, rolling her eyes as DB laughs.

I think it's the first time any of us have genuinely smiled in a long time.

And, damn, does it feel good.

AN: Thanks for reading.