A/N: This is the re-write of Grudges. I would like to thank lostinthought3 for their encouragement in re-writing this story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!


10 years ago

Why were policemen coming into her family's house? Young eleven-year-old Monica Stevens did not know why. Had one of her parents done something wrong? No, that couldn't have been it, Monica knew for a fact that her parents were always very careful. So...did that mean it was her big brother that had gotten into trouble?

"Jay!" she yelled, running down the stairs from her bedroom window, her curtains closing to cover the light from the flashing police cars. Running down the stairs to her brother's bedroom, she gasped when she saw her brother being taken away in handcuffs.

Not Jay. Not her big brother. It couldn't be happening.

"Jay!" she said again, running over to him. The police were slow to restrain her. "Jay, what's happening?"

"...It's okay, Mona," he said to her, looking down at her with a small but not reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay."

"N-No, Jay, what's happening?" she asked again, starting to panic. She didn't like his arms being handcuffed behind his back, or the look the police officers were giving him. They looked at him like he was pathetic; scum. "Jay, what happened?" she asked again.

"It's okay, Mona," he assured her.

Why wasn't he telling her what was going on?

"Jay, are you going to jail?" she asked, inwardly cringing at the thought.

"...Yeah, I might be going away for a little way, Sis," he told her. "...See ya..."

"No, Jay!" she yelled, throwing her arms around his legs and squeezing them tightly. "You can't go! I won't let them take you!" she screamed.

A young woman in her mid-thirties walked into the room. She had brown hair that fell just below her shoulders, resting just above the word 'FORENSICS' on her black jacket. With a sigh, she removed her sunglasses from her face, resting them on top of her head. "...We're going to need to process inside, Captain's got a warrant," she explained.

One of the officers nodded and they began to lead Monica's brother out of the house. Jay sneered and looked over at the woman with a sadistic grin on his face. "I could do you everyday," he smirked.

"Get him out of here," the captain of the police team ordered.

"NO!" Monica screamed, holding onto her brother's legs. What was it that he said before? Something about 'doing' the woman standing next to her everyday? Do what? "You can't take him!"

"...Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your brother is going to have to come with us for a little while," the woman from before said. She had kneeled down as the officers pried her away from her brother- practically having to get a cro-bar to do so- and she put one hand on the girl's shoulder to try and comfort her.

"Sidle, over here," the captain from before said. The woman immediately got to her feet and walked over to him. "What did your supervisor say?"

"To go ahead and process the scene," she sighed. "As long as we've got a warrant, the house and everything in it is ours."

"Excellent," he said. "Meet you back at the station for the interrogation?"

"Sure," she said, grabbing a rather large metal box from off the ground.

"...Good luck, Sara," he sighed, walking off to his own car.

Sara nodded and walked over to the front door of the house, taking one step inside.

Monica watched this woman in disbelief. Her brother was being taken away, didn't away care? And why weren't they telling her what was going on?

"Jay, no!" she yelled again, running toward the patrol car the officers were currently loading him into. A hand on her upper right forearm restrained her, and she turned around to see the brown-haired woman from before holding onto her arm, her grip tight but gentle. "Why are you doing this?" she yelled.

"...Sweetheart...your older brother...has done something very, very bad," Sara explained.

"I don't care, he probably didn't mean to!" Monica yelled. Turning around, she watched as the car drove off. "NO! JAY, COME BACK! COME BACK WITH MY BROTHER!"

"Sweetheart, calm down.." Sara said softly.

Monica's effort to tear her arm from this woman's grip was futile. Instead, she turned around and threw some punches at her, landing blows to her long legs. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! HE WAS SORRY, HE DIDN'T MEAN TO DO ANYTHING AND YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE HIM GO TO AN AWFUL PLACE!"

Sara looked down at the little girl, her eyes and face calm. "...Your big brother made a bad choice, Monica," she said, remembering the name of the girl. "...And he has to pay the consequences of his actions...he did something very terrible." She didn't know exactly how she was making raping and killing three women into just something 'very terrible', but at the moment she wasn't in the mood- nor was it the proper situation- for more technical terms.

"NO HE DIDN'T, HE WAS THE BEST BROTHER IN THE WORLD, HE NEVER DID ANYTHING WRONG!" Monica screamed. This woman wasn't getting it. And why was she trying to hold her and tell her everything was okay? Nothing was okay. She was never going to see her brother again and that was okay to this woman?

It was all this woman's fault. Monica and her brother knew about telling on people for bad things they did, but they never, ever snitched to someone about something someone did. And this woman told on her big brother.

"I HATE YOU!" Monica screamed, clawing at Sara's face. Her hand made contact with her cheek and her nails scraped across it, just below her left eye.

An officer saw this and quickly drug a thrashing Monica away from Sara, keeping a tight grip on her arm.


Sara just sighed as the captain ran up to her. "What happened? I was on my way out and I saw her just...claw at you!"

"Well, that's what happened," Sara said. "Well, I can tell Big Brother's colorful vocabulary rubbed off on his little sister."

The captain rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Yeah."

Present Day- 10 years later

Throwing a long strand of black hair out of her eyes, Monica adjusted her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, staring at the doors of the Las Vegas Crime Lab through her car window. Looking up at the dashboard, she spotted something in particular and picked it up, holding it gingerly in her hand. Tightening her grip on the object, a blade quickly slid out of the black handle and she narrowed her eyes, staring at her reflection in the metal.

Sara Sidle was going to pay.