Disclaimer—I don't own the CSI: NY characters and the song is More Than A Memory and belongs to the talented Garth Brooks

Mac Taylor was a stoic man, but his stoicism covered up a caring heart. Some thought it wouldn't be all that easy to wound that heart, and they would be wrong. When he'd gotten Peyton's letter Mac had felt the pain, quick and stunning; but there were other issues, more pressing issues that had to be taken care of. His music helped, and he thought he'd taken the time to hurt over it. With his 333 issues he didn't have much time to think about it, but then it was over. The calls and worries had stopped and all of the sudden it hit him.

The holidays came, and with them came the never ceasing ache of the loss of a woman he loved more than he'd ever realized. Whenever he slept he dreamed of her, so he slept as little as possible. He stayed at home or at work because too many times he'd found himself walking by her old place. Mac knew that Peyton was right, neither of them could leave so they had to say goodbye, and suddenly she was nothing but a memory. He barely ate, and he buried himself in his work even more than usual. He knew that his team was worried about him, and that Stella was especially concerned. Mac shook off the questions and anxieties over his welfare and tried to move forward, even as he basically stood still.

New Years Day at three in the morning, Mac was in the office. He was using the excuse of a case to stay all night, despite the fact that it had basically already solved itself. The only thing left was to wait on DNA, but the rest of their evidence was solid. The DNA evidence would only be the final nail in the coffin. Even so, he was looking over everything they had for the third time. It was the only excuse he had to stay awake.

Sighing, Mac rubbed a hand over his face. He picked up his phone and was halfway through Peyton's number when he stopped himself. He hung up, cursing himself. Shaking his head, he picked up the phone again and dialed Stella's cell.

Stella and Flack both came abruptly awake as the phone rang on the bedside table. He reached groggily for the phones and it took him a moment to focus in. "It's yours," he told her, placing it in her hand.

She fumbled for the button and put the phone to her ear. "Bonasera. Mac?" She sat up, pulling the blankets with her and over Flack's face. "Is something wrong?" She looked down and mouthed her apologies to him as he fought clear of the blankets to sit up next to her. He shook his head and listened to her end of the conversation. "How long has it been since you ate or slept?" Stella asked her voice concerned. There was a long period of silence on her end and Flack watched sadness play over her face. "It's okay to miss her Mac. It's okay to grieve over her." She nodded. "Eventually it'll be alright, but not if you don't take care of yourself." She looked over at Flack with her eyes dark and sorrowful. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep Mac."

Stella hung up her phone and reached back over Flack to set it on the table. He watched as she dropped her head back to rest against the headboard. "Peyton?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just wish… I don't know."

He pulled her into his arms. "He'll be okay Stell. It's going to take a while, but he'll be okay."

She nodded. "I know it'll get better, I only wish that there was something I could do for him."

"At this point, Mac's the only one that can do anything." He pulled her with him until they lay down against the pillows again. "The best you can do is be there."

"You're right." Her smile was soft as he kissed her temple. "I know you're right."

Back at the office, Mac turned of the lights in his office. Stella was right; he had to take care of himself. Maybe he would hurt for a long time, but eventually the hurt would fade. When it finally did, the last thing he wanted was to be unhealthy. At least he knew he had good friends like Stella to turn to. He closed up his office and within moments he was on the street. Too exhausted to drive, he called a cab.

When he climbed in and gave his address the southern cabbie uttered a brief greeting and promptly turned up the volume of his country radio station. Mac closed his eyes and leaned again the seat, trying to fight back sleep. He was halfway dozing when a song on the radio caught his attention. He focused intently in on the lyrics as the cabbie halfway hummed along.

People say she's only in my head
It's gonna take time but I'll forget
They say I need to get on with my life

What they don't realize

Is when you're dialing 6 numbers just to hang up the phone
Driving cross town just to see if she's home
Waking a friend in the dead of the night
Just to hear him say it's going to be alright
When you're finding things to do, not to fall asleep
Cause you know she'll be there in your dreams
That's when she's
More than a memory

Took a match to everything she ever wrote
Watched her words go up in smoke
Tore all her pictures off the wall
That ain't helping me at all

Cause when you're talking out loud but nobody's there
You look like hell & you just don't care

You're drinking more than you ever drank
Sinking down lower than you ever sank
When you find yourself falling down upon your knees
Praying to God, begging him "please"
That's when she's
More than a memory

She's more
She's more

Cause when you're dialing her number just to hang up the phone
Driving cross town just to see if she's home
Waking a friend in the dead of the night
Just to hear him say it's going to be alright
When you're finding things to do, not to fall asleep
Cause you know she's waiting in your dreams
That's when she's
More than a memory

People say she's only in my head
Gonna take time but I'll forget

The song ended and for a moment Mac just sat there stunned. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he started when the cabbie pulled to a stop in front of his building. Shaking himself out of the fog he paid the driver and went up to his place. As he went through the motions he couldn't shake the song from his head. Thinking back to his conversation with Stella, he resolved that he was going to do it differently. He'd take the hurt and move on; because he realized that Peyton was more than just a memory for him. He'd keep a part of her with him always, somewhere in the corner of his heart, but first he'd have to grieve. He'd have to sleep, and dream of her. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers around his shoulders. As his head hit the pillow, the haunting melody of the song lulled him to sleep.

Note From the Author—Well I hope you all enjoyed More Than A Memory. This is my first time really experimenting with a Mac story, so I hope he wasn't too out of character. As usual, I'm unable to resist adding in a little Stella Flack action. I can't help it. I think they're perfect for each other. Constructive criticism is appreciated; emphasis on constructive. Thanks guys.