A/N: PLEASE I need criticism! And by the way, this is the last chapter. The story cannot possibly be perfect, otherwise I'd be working for Jerry Bruickheimer. PLEASE: Criticism wanted!
Feeling important, Greg rushed into Grissom's office. His boss was waiting pensively. Greg stood there for a moment, waiting to be noticed. Grissom looked up and sighed.
"Greg, I'd like you to look into this for me," Grissom said, handing him a folder. Greg swallowed nervously before looking at the contents. "The visitation records for Laura Sidle… I'd like you to look into it for me," Grissom explained to Greg's blank expression. Greg felt kind of awkward. The territory seemed sensitively taboo. He looked down the list. Seeing Rachel's name, he frowned in confusion.
"I thought you said Rachel told you she didn't actually speak with her mother… here…here it says she stayed for twenty-two minutes…" Greg said, looking at the sheet. Grissom nodded. "That's what you want me to look into, gotcha." Greg realised, leaving, almost running into Ecklie on his way out.
Ecklie sneered as he watched Greg depart. He returned his gawk to Grissom.
"Gil, I've been hearing rumors." He started menacingly, as he took a seat in front of Grissom's desk. Grissom frankly didn't care.
"Gee, Conrad… " Grissom started, but Ecklie interrupted him.
"I'd like to know Rachel Weiss' relation to CSI Sidle, Grissom. I've been hearing rumors, Gil. And rumors are not a good thing to be hearing if you're me. So, tell." He said with a slight cackle. Grissom shook his head like it was the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.
Sara simply wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. Alison Stern was sitting at the receptionist desk, emotionally overwhelmed by the whole situation.
"Rachel is my biological sister, you must understand this," Sara calmly explained to Alison Stern. Rachel sat in the next room, observing the two, and couldn't help but feel happy about being fought over. For once someone cared.
"I'm sorry, Miss Sidle, there's not much I can do… you can talk to her, but until the York's get parental custody of her… I am her guardian, and beyond that, it's her call." Alison explained, with remorse. Sara was devastated.
"Parental custody?" She asked. Alison opened her mouth to say something, but Sara continued: "and who are the York's?" she asked in bewilderment. "Why do complete strangers beat out biological relatives?" Sara asked. Flustered, Alison replied;
"It's just the way the system works, Miss Sidle, I'm sorry,"
"Then the system is FLAWED!" Sara yelled. She turned and headed out towards the door, then decided not to. "You know what? I do want to talk to her. I want to speak with my sister," Sara said to Alison, who obediently led her to the room where Rachel was.
"Miss Sidle, you must know… you have my complete sympathy… I feel for you, I really do… but I can't just deviate from my responsibilities when a child is involved," Alison said, her voice shaking. Sara tried to calm herself, but her blood boiled in rage.
"Rachel isn't a child, she's perfectly able to make her own decisions…" Sara muttered, not exactly knowing how much truth that statement held. Hopefully she could talk some sense into her sister and get her to change her mind.
Greg was studying the security camera tapes Grissom had gotten for him. Despite being pretty ancient, they worked and that was what mattered at the moment. Warrick walked in with a coffee.
"Hey Greggo… what's this?" Warrick asked casually as he took a seat.
"Are you spying on me for Grissom?" Greg marveled. Warrick laughed.
"No… I'm just bored." Warrick stated, "are those old surveillance tapes? Man… those are… prehistoric beastie things …" he said, taking one from the pile and looking at it.
"Well, technology gets old the minute you invest in an upgrade," Greg suggested, "And that's not the point. These work, and they did their job. I'm looking over them for Grissom," he explained. The two watched the screen. A nine-year-old Rachel walked up to the front desk. She spoke to the secretary for two minutes and twenty seven seconds. She looked like she was trying to persuade her of something. Then a guard walked over, took her by the arm, and led her off screen. Warrick handed Greg the next tape.
"Surveillance of the visitation room…" he said, as they waited for the screen to flicker to life. When it did, they saw the same guard escort Rachel to an empty chair in the middle of an empty room. Forty-five seconds went by, and Rachel fidgeted, playing with a Rubiks cube. She suddenly stopped and sat up straight, but even from the distance of the camera, her shaking was visible. Greg shook his head.
"Freakin' brave kid…" he muttered. Warrick silently agreed, and they continued to watch, transfixed, as Laura Sidle came onscreen, shackled, and led by two armed guards to a seat across the table from the terrified sprite of a girl. From the looks of it, Rachel did most of the talking. She was facing away from the camera, so whatever she said was between two possibly irretrievable and inaccurate minds. Laura might've been crying, it was hard to tell. The greyscale screen made the scene monotonous. Like it almost suddenly meant nothing. A little girl, a woman, a room. The history made the story all the more terrifyingly real.
Rachel scampered away from the window where she'd been watching the two, and started playing with a Rubiks cube, pretending to be mildly surprised when Ms. Stern walked in with Sara. Rachel sat down at the shiny table, and Ms. Stern left. Sara stood still.
"Come sit," Rachel piped. Sara thought odd her sudden cheeriness. She proceeded to sit down across from this strange kid she knew nothing about, yet was trying to protect. Rachel looked at her with her intense gaze. "The York's are the family in Modesto I'm going to stay with," Rachel explained. "You were wondering that earlier, I thought… well…" she trailed off. When she spoke, she didn't use eye contact, yet before and after, she locked her eyes with Sara's in an intense glare like she was trying to say something subconsciously. Something Sara just noticed. Rachel waited for Sara to say whatever she was going to say. She continued to play with the Rubiks cube. Silence.
"Rachel, you don't have to go…" Sara said finally. Rachel looked at her. Then returned her gaze to the puzzle.
"Yeah, Sara. I do." She replied, with a hint of what Sara hoped was regret.
"No, Rach…" both Sara and Rachel were surprised at the informality. Sara paused in slight embarrassment. "You don't. You can stay with me," Sara said, desperate.
"Sara!" Rachel bursted, "you have your OWN life." She stated. "You have your own life, don't take two steps backwards." Sara said nothing. Rachel sighed and continued, "just because the DNA says we're sisters doesn't mean we are."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Sara questioned, after realizing her sister had made a very valid point.
"We've been living separate lives, Sara. We were raised differently. Can't we just go our separate ways… unbothered?" Rachel asked.
"And just forget one another exists?" Sara retorted.
"YEAH!" Rachel shot, feeling that Sara was acting rather belligerent.
"That's never going to work, Rachel." Sara warned.
"Well so far it's been working out pretty damn fine for you!" Rachel yelled, "Hasn't it?"
"I never forgot about you, Rachel…" Sara said, lowering her voice. Rachel put the Rubiks cube on the table and leaned forwards.
"Nobody ever reported me missing, Sara. You made it easier for Pauline and George to camouflage me into their lives!" Rachel cried. At this, Sara paused.
"Rachel… you… you don't, you won't even begin to understand what I went through," Sara started. Rachel interrupted her.
"You're right….you're right, I have no idea. And just because you have a team of genius investigators pouring over my life doesn't mean you have any slight hint of what I went through either." She hissed. Sara pursed her lips, caught proven wrong. Rachel went back to her Rubiks cube. Sara's phone rang. Rachel looked up, distracted. Sara answered the phone, and said hardly anything, just listened. Rachel concentrated on her cube.
"You lied, Rachel." Sara said a moment later. The girl looked up.
"No, probably just left out pertinent information…" She clarified, "Concerning what?" she added, anxious. Sara couldn't help but be amused by this comment.
"Mom. You spoke with her… what did she say?" Sara asked, scared and angry, yet trying to put up a nice friendly front. Rachel grinned.
"She shouldn't be in jail." Rachel said, her smile fading. Sara wanted more. She moved her chair adjacent to her sister's.
"What did she say?" Sara asked slowly. Rachel looked at her for a moment, then looked down.
"I told her what happened, she felt terrible, I cried, she cried." Rachel said vaguely.
"Rachel!" Sara sighed. Silence.
"Shit!" Rachel exclaimed. Sara was taken aback. "Sorry," Rachel apologized. "I thought I had a pattern going." She said, waving the Rubiks cube. Sara grabbed it.
"Damnit, Rachel. You… freakin… genius. Stop being a brat. You're doing this just to make me hate you, aren't you?" Sara shouted. Rachel smiled again. Then it faded.
"Sara, I can't stay with you. You don't want me to stay with you and besides, I got into a private school two blocks away from the York's place. I need this." Rachel assured her. She got up. Sara followed her.
"Rachel… one last thing…" Sara said. Rachel stopped but didn't turn around. "You at age nine, knew about genetics? I don't think so…"
"That's your desperation? To make me stay and answer all your questions?" Rachel asked, turning around. Then, she continued, for the first time, with her eyes fixed on Sara's, "I'd read about Nicholas and Alexandra and Queen Victoria." Rachel explained. "And their son… I wasn't a stupid nine-year-old, I doubt you were either." Rachel left Sara holding a messed-up Rubiks cube. She was leaving. There was nothing she could do.
"Basically, Sara and her sister Rachel were torn apart by the tragedy… one was taken by the law, and one was taken against it. Until now, the two lived separate lives as two different people than they should have been. Rachel was unfortunate enough to have remembered enough to prove her memories weren't imagined, fortunately. Her acting father's attack on her, thrust her life head-first into the eyes of law-enforcement. After much prodding, she broke out her secret, albeit slowly, and we were able to distinguish her memories as fairly accurate. Now, she's in custody of a social worker, and is to the best of my knowledge, heading out to Modesto, to live with a foster family. That, Conrad, is all you need to know," Grissom said, finally taking a breath. Ecklie smiled.
"Wow. I hope you don't forget to… umm… document this counseling go-around with Sara, she deserves it." He remarked, and promptly left Grissom with his deep thoughts. There were still so many unanswered questions. Grissom, for the sake of the incredible story it was, hoped it wasn't over. For Rachel and Sara's sake, he hoped it was.
The next day, Sara was late on purpose. She wasn't sure if she cared anymore. As she passed the front desk, Judy called to her that she had a package. Surprised, Sara approached the reception counter.
Judy handed her the box. It was about big enough to comfortably contain a tennis ball. She opened it hesitantly. Inside, sat a lonely music box on top of a folded piece of paper. Sara sat down on one of the hallway benches. Placing the box on the bench, she lifted the music box out gently. She held it in her hand for a moment. She didn't have to crank it to know the tune it contained. Her gaze returned to the piece of paper that still lay in the bottom of the box. She took it out and unfolded it. Inside a red hand-drawn heart were the words Lost and Found.
Sara read and reread the message for several minutes trying to place the metaphor, before noticing something written on the back. She flipped over the sheet. Written in normal-looking black pen, was a short message:
I must admit, Sara… you would've made one kick-ass sister.
Love,
Rachel.
At that, she couldn't contain her emotions. She dropped her head into her hands and tried not to cry, which obviously didn't work.
Rachel was gone.
…THE END…