Think

by glindalupin

RSRD fic. Mac tries to get Danny off the hook for the murder, but he also discovers his own feelings for Danny. Battling his own mind, he solves the case and tries to ease Danny's pain and his own. Rated for language and sexual situations. MacDanny

A/N Ok please don't kill me for taking over a month to get this out! I have been really busy with school and shit, and this came out reeeeally long. About 18,000 words. I am not joking, so please be patient as you read it because I reeeeally tried hard to make this the way I wanted it to be. It's Mac-centric of the events in Run Silent, Run Deep. The end is where I add the after-episode bits, and that's when they have sex... So pleeeeease read through this if you can. Characters belong to CSI NY, and the rating is M for language and sexual situations.

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Anticipation pervaded its melancholy way throughout the morgue, weaseling into the bowels of Mac Taylor's stomach. His heart lurched downwards to join the cocktail as he saw the Tanglewood tattoo. His mind reeled through the memories of the gang, particularly the one in which Sonny Sassone taunted him about his knowledge of Danny Messer. He remembered feeling nauseated at the thought of Danny running with a guy like Sassone, but his heart told him there was no way his protégé would be involved. So he pushed it aside as something he'd talk to Danny about later, but then, they became involved in things that made them too busy, and then Danny got himself in a whole mess of shit when he shot Minhaus. So Mac never got the chance to bring it back from his preconscious into the light to be examined fully.

Until tonight.

He was well on his way out of the ME's office and sought out the person in question. Mac walked hurriedly through the labs, and he felt a rush of relief that he couldn't seem to place when he caught sight of the blonde. "Danny… I need to talk to you about Tanglewood again."

He noticed the intake of breath and the shuffle Danny's feet did surreptitiously. "Y-yeah, boss. What do you need to know?" His blue eyes met Mac's, brimming with nervousness.

Mac proceeded to fill him in and listened carefully at Danny's explanation. His mind raced at dangerous speeds. He felt that strange relief again when he heard Danny reassess his lack of involvement, saying his brother knew Zabo better. Mac tried to keep his thoughts and emotions in check as he gently ordered Danny to not become involved. There was no way he would let Danny hurt himself professionally or emotionally; he cared too much about the bundle of nerves in front of him to let that happen.

So he was almost jubilant when Danny readily agreed, contradicting his actions almost a year ago when he went behind Mac's back and talked to IAB. Mac drove that thought out of his mind forcefully; he wasn't going to let himself live through that embittering disappointment again. He smiled weakly at Danny as he turned to go work on that Colt they found.

Mac's proficiency with weapons enabled him to easily rebuild and test fire the heavily age-worn gun, making him fully able to prove it matched the bullet found in the back of the victim's head. His patience was tested by the fact the gun wasn't registered, but that didn't and wouldn't slow a Taylor down. He played Q&A with Hawkes to establish a way of finding out who could have owned the gun, combining a teaching lesson into the case. He waited with bated breath for any history of the gun's "relatives". But nothing could have prepared him for the name that popped up on the screen.

Sonny Sassone.

Once again, Mac found his mind surging fearfully; his whole body felt weary, but he had a job to do. He strode out of the lab and went to his office. Picking up the phone, he dialed Flack's number. "Hey, Flack. It's Mac. I need you to get me a location on Sonny Sassone." He paused as Flack exclaimed his disbelief and queries on the other end. "Yeah, that Sonny Sassone. Can you do a rush job? Thanks…" He hung up quickly and seated himself in his chair.

His foot began to beat a steady beat into the carpet, so Mac tried to keep his mind off of the present situation. But all he could think of was Danny, something which only mildly surprised the detective. After all, this case had strong ties to the young CSI. But Mac had a sinking suspicion it was because Danny reminded him so much of himself years ago. Of course, Mac had more opportunities and a much different life, but the attitude was still the same. Thus was the reason he couldn't let Danny do things that would make him become Detective Mac Taylor: cloistered into his work and stoically cut off from most personal ties.

Mac had barely noticed that the sun was beginning to rise over New York City, fringing the skyline with a rouged pink. Mac looked up from his desk and saw the light, realizing he and most of his team had spent an all-nighter at the lab. He made a note to tell them all to go home if they were still in and not to return without at least four hours of sleep in their systems, if not more. But as for himself, he reached into his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a blue collared shirt lying patiently there. He looked at the phone thoughtfully, wondering if he had time to shower but decided against it. He'd shower after he made sure Sonny knew what he was up against.

So Mac went about his office and shut the blinds, despite the fact he knew the labs were nearly deserted. He found comfort in the little bit of privacy they provided for him, allowing him a small moment's peace, something he supposed was due to the fact he was shut off from his main stressor: the lab. The lab and all its stories associated with it, but mostly it was its people that nearly gave Mac an ulcer because he worried for them and about them frequently. And as Mac dressed, he noted that the one person that seemed to give him the most panic was Danny.

So much for a moment's mental rest, Mac thought bemusedly to himself as he completed buttoning up the fresh shirt. He looked downwards in an attempt to assess his look, trying to see if anyone would catch the fact his slacks were still the same and quite rumpled. The appearance of having gone home seemed to be intact enough, at least until he got back to the lab to shower and grab the other needed garments to be fully suited for a new day.

Mac went about the room to reopen the blinds and blinked as sunlight streamed into the office, an indicator of the length of time it had been since he had first called Flack. He seated himself once again into his leather chair and tried to remain patient. He sighed and rubbed his temples soothingly when his phone began to ring insistently, shattering his thoughts. Mac nabbed it from its cradle and eagerly listened as Flack gave him a location. He had barely hung up the phone when he was out the door, running towards the garage for his car. Mac's endocrine system gave him a blast of adrenaline at the thought of the fact Sassone wasn't in Sing-Sing as he had hoped, but he was perversely delighted at the fact he had a chance to put him there, maybe for good this time.

The car trip was a short one, the construction site being close to the crime lab. Mac couldn't help but tingle with anticipation at the approaching confrontation. He spotted the gangster lounging in a patio chair, looking much worse for the wear: balding and at least ten pounds heavier. A small burst of ego rose in Mac as he realized he was much better off than Sassone was when they last met, still in shape and in possession of a full head of hair. Not to mention the fact that he didn't have multiple murders eating away at his psyche.

During their verbal battle, Sassone caustically shrugged off each of Mac's accusations, but Mac, his eyes fiercely glaring down at his adversary, wasn't going to let Sonny get by him without being afraid. He leaned ever so slightly towards Sonny and threatened gruffly, "You should be," when Sassone laughed him off again.

Mac walked away from his opponent, feigning an accomplished air but feeling even more worried than he had been when he first visited the site. He drove faster than he should have back to the lab, but a speed limit wasn't going to pin a murder on a ruthless killer.

Back at the lab, Mac checked in with Adam, who was ready to do a facial reconstruction of their John Doe. At Adam's suggestion of using FastScan, Mac was drawn back to a memory of when Aiden displayed her artistry and pieced together a wonderful facial reconstruction, but Mac bitterly moved his thoughts back to the scanner in his hands, ignoring the image the memory brought up of Danny when he had found out Aiden was gone. Mac focused in on the visual on screen, hoping this new face would somehow bring about a name other than John Doe.

Mac knew better than to hope for a match to the distinctive features of the face given, but he had a better idea if that didn't work. He left Adam with instructions to publish the face in New York Weekly, a tabloid he often found himself perusing when he was bored with nothing else to do, as well as run the face against the missing persons database. Mac knew it was a long shot considering the innumerable years the shooting could have gone down in. But he had to try.

Mac strolled to the locker rooms to get his much needed shower, knowing full well it would be a while before Weekly published the story. Opening his locker, Mac was relieved to find that he did indeed have outfit replacements. He took the needed clothing and shut the locker swiftly.

Mac undressed quickly and turned on the shower, grateful that the water was cold so as to wake his senses. He scrubbed wearily at his face, trying to wash away the thoughts invading his mind with the icy water.

Mac was once again drawn into the whirlpool of memories: of the case, of the past Tanglewood case, of Danny. He tried to reason with himself once again that the only reason Danny kept popping up was due to his involvement with the case. But as the water continued to rain down mercilessly on Mac, it dawned on him.

He had feelings for the younger CSI.

Not the fatherly feelings he should be holding, considering that most of the team considered their relationship to be that way. And not the "buddy-buddy" feeling either. Oh God… And I had to figure this out now… Mac was now extremely glad the water was cold, for the realization had made his thoughts drift in an unadulterated direction. This is wrong! Danny isn't… I'm not… I just can't like Danny… Can I?

Mac reached for the handle and twisted it cruelly. He had to get out of the shower now and get his mind back on track. Back on things that would lead them straight back to Danny. Damn it… His jaw set, Mac dressed as fast as he could, wanting to get this mystery solved, mostly to put Sonny in an orange prison suit. But he also wanted to get it over with to rid himself of the tainted ideas it created.

He inhaled sharply and placed the dirty clothes back into his locker, which he closed forcefully this time, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming stress physically. When it did no good, Mac turned and headed back for his office to wait.

But Mac didn't want to wait, knowing all too well that it would leave free his mind to wander, and he definitely didn't need more of that. So he returned to his office, set upon reading the cold cases that rested on his desk, ones that pleaded not to remain lying there permanently. He found his endeavor somewhat relaxing, despite the mind-numbing fact that they were cases he never cracked.

So he was viciously startled when a newspaper was slammed onto his desk by Adam, who was beaming from ear to ear. "They got it printed already?" Mac was surprised at the speed it had been done, but much less so at the headline, which screamed about Hoffa and a conspiracy. He groaned inwardly but turned to Adam for his explanation.

Adam noticed Mac's grimace at the cover page and shrugged sheepishly. "I know you said it wasn't supposed to be like that, but they didn't listen to me. I guess business is business to them." He paused when he saw that Mac had buried himself within the article and probably wasn't listening. And yet still he stayed, patiently bouncing his left foot up and down.

Mac didn't even look up, asking bluntly, "What else is there you wanna tell me, Adam?" The question was disarmingly calm and patient and had the effect that most of Mac's other comments did, which was subduing the other conversationalist into saying what he wanted.

"Oh, uh… right. Weekly called back after publishing, and they said they had a call from someone claiming him to be their kid, so they gave me the number to call." He looked excitedly at Mac.

Mac looked up and raised a questioning eyebrow at the technician. "And you called this informant and asked them to come in for questioning, I hope?"

Adam gave his boss a searing look that said, Do I look like a rookie? "Duh…" Mac gave him a half-smile as compensation towards his indignation. "The guy is on his way as we speak."

"Good."

Adam huffed and then asked hopefully, "That's it? No 'Great job, Adam,' or 'Hey, for your work, here's a raise'?" He started to laugh when a look from Mac silenced him quickly.

Mac was in a fair mood at the change in fortune, so he allotted a grin for Adam, but he warned playfully, "Don't push your luck, kid. But I did say 'Good,' didn't I?" His smile was enigmatic and charming.

Adam chuckled again fully. "Yeah, I guess you did. Well, I gotta bounce so good luck with the interview thing."

Mac watched him go, waiting until he was out of sight before he started cleaning. He had always assumed he had serious perfection issues, which manifested themselves in the frantic scramble to tidy up his office.

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. A man stood there, looking anxiously at Mac with a numbed look in his eyes, seemingly dead from the eyes up. Mac straightened up to his full height and extended a hand. "Detective Mac Taylor."

The man glanced down at the hand and chose to ignore it, curtly saying with a touch of hidden emotions, "Jack Manning. I saw that… that you found my son."

Mac wasn't put off by the rejection, understanding that the man was probably in turmoil at the possibility of finding out his son had been found and much worse: that his son had been found six feet under. He gently coaxed Manning into his office and shut the door, allowing him the privacy a grieving father deserved.

Yet when they began to discuss what had happened to his son, Mac was increasingly drawn into the compassion the man displayed, wondering if he himself talked about Danny that way or felt proud of Danny even when he did foolish things, just as the father couldn't feel angry for his kid paying the bills in a less than lawful manner. Mac shook the comparisons from his mind and focused upon thanking the man, wishing him well, and empathizing with his loss. It was his job, his duty, and his own moral standing that insisted he do it.

So Mac was left alone in his office again to pore over these new findings and add them to the case file. Almost satisfied, he laid the file back on his desk and went to his bookshelf to look for literary support for his case.

He had a book cracked open when Danny appeared at the door to his office. "You got a second, Mac?" Mac's head snapped up at the voice.

He forced his heart to keep from accelerating and asked quietly, "What is it, Danny?" From his quick assessment of the younger man, he could already assume it wasn't something too good, judging by the way Danny held himself: tensed and nervously standing in the doorway, as if fearful to enter.

Danny walked in cautiously, but with purpose. He had a file in his hands and held it up. "Lindsay got back the DNA from the cigarette butt. Came back to an Internal Controls sample." He dropped the file unceremoniously on Mac's desk. Mac set down his book slowly, already not liking where this was headed.

Mac's fingers were barely grazing the edges of the papers when Danny spoke up, "The DNA on the cigarette butt is mine." As soon as the words were left to linger in the air, Mac felt nausea build up once again in his stomach. He watched as Danny shook his head slowly and self-loathingly and weighed the options of whether this meant Danny was the killer.

No… he… he can't have killed Bobby Manning! Mac swallowed carefully and tried not to lose it. He wasn't about to break down in his fear that Danny had done something so horrible. He just wasn't. Mac chose to take refuge in his business-like sense. "You know, what you say to me is testimony." He hadn't meant it as an implication that Danny was a killer, or did he? He couldn't be sure of anything he felt, with the way his mind was behaving lately.

Danny stood up suddenly, making Mac suddenly feel worried that Danny might retaliate aggressively if he also believed Mac thought he was the killer. But Danny spoke softly, pleadingly. "Mac, I do not need a boss right now, alright? I need…" He stuttered in his frightened state. "I need a friend, alright? I'm in big trouble here. Just, uh, hear me out?"

He gave Mac a look that made the older CSI shiver, for it was so desperate and sad and scared, for it was a look Mac never wanted to see upon the face of someone he cared for. But Mac couldn't voice his concern just yet; he wanted answers… now.

Mac wanted to clear Danny so he could stop feeling betrayed and let down. He wanted to get rid of this feeling that he could have been wrong on his judgment of Danny's character when he hired him. So he listened intently as Danny began to explain.

Danny inhaled sharply and began, "My older brother Louie is a Tanglewood boy. He's been running with Sonny Sassone for God knows how long. But like I said before, I never ran with those guys." He paused and thought for a moment. "Except… that one night." Mac's heart plummeted, but he held out against the increasing anxiety and frustration. "Summer of 1991, fifteen years ago. My brother Louie calls me up. He says he and a couple of Tanglewood boys, they're going down to AC to party and gamble or whatnot. Like an idiot, I go. Needless to say, we never got to Atlantic City. I ended up in a parking lot at Giants Stadium."

Mac tried to breathe as Danny went through the night's events, trying to imagine what it could have been like to see Manning in the trunk and to try and stop Sonny. Mac couldn't help be feel the slightest bit proud at this latest revelation. But then he felt sorry for Danny when he heard Louie's reaction to his brother's protest.

Mac, for his own curiosity's sake as well as the investigation's, questioned, "So the Tanglewood boys at this time consist of Sonny Sassone, Salvador Zabo, and your brother?"

Danny nodded and asserted, "And that's it. I was just tagging along." Danny paused and swallowed. He spoke up again, almost ruefully, "Things between my brother and I were never the same after that one night, Mac. He calls me up a couple days later; he tells me, though, that he dropped that kid off in a bad neighborhood and went down to AC as planned."

Mac felt somewhat sickened as he realized Danny had been had by his own brother. But then, he came to the conclusion that what Louie did probably saved Danny from any ties to the murder. Well… almost. His voice was aloof as he stated, "He lied."

Mac didn't mean to upset Danny, rather, just correct his belief that his brother deceived him, not with the purpose of being mean, but instead to protect his brother. Danny had the right to know. But the effects on Danny were much worse than he thought. He looked as if on the verge of tears, or at least an angry outburst, and Mac didn't exactly blame him for it. Danny cried, "How could he do that to me?" Mac wanted to explain his theory, but Danny interrupted, once again springing to defense of his brother, even if he was upset with him. "He always showed off in front of Sonny, but my brother, Mac, is not a murderer."

Mac sighed, for his wishes to explain Danny's misconceptions came right along with the explanation that Danny was the only one that could go down for the this, at least with the evidence they had, whether or not his brother was in on it or not. "Well, the fact is right now, Danny, you're the murderer. Your cigarette butt was in that hole." He looked sympathetically at Danny's expression of incredulity. "How'd it get there?"

Danny deeply groaned and shook his head. He shrugged, "I don't know. I swear on my mother I do not know." Mac tried to fight the skeptical investigator within and triumph as the friend Danny needed him to be to believe his story. Danny continued, trying to reason, almost with himself, "Louie was always bumming cigarettes from me back then, but I swear to God, I never took one step into that stadium. Never."

There was a long pause as Mac's old self, the one before he'd ever taken this job, the one who took leaps of faith without finding evidence first, took the reigns. His voice crept out as a rushed whisper, "I believe you." The words sounded foreign to him, frightening Mac in the knowledge that he was willing to change his whole outlook for one person. Well, not any person. Danny. Mac looked at Danny and felt an odd mixture of guilt and happiness that Danny seemed relieved and almost joyous at Mac's revelation. So, Mac felt even worse for what he'd have to say next, as a boss once again. "Unfortunately, the evidence is telling us a different story." He exhaled loudly, "So I'm gonna help you, and you're gonna help me." Mac's chest tightened as he realized he had to explain what was to happen to his best CSI, who was standing in his office, dismayed and disjointed. "So, I have no choice. You'll be placed on modified assignment."

Mac went through the proper protocol of the upcoming actions and also what he wanted Danny to do when he was on the rubber gun squad. Mostly keep his mouth shut and not do what he did last time. Wait, I thought I wasn't going to bring that up again… The thought was nudged away as Mac watched helplessly as Danny passed his gun and badge over regretfully. He could tell Danny was on the verge of snapping, trying to avoid the gazes that were on him. At first, Mac thought it was just his and the duty captain's gaze he was avoiding, but looking outside, he saw Flack, Lindsay, Adam, and Hawkes. Mac looked back towards Danny, who stared at the floor as the duty captain gave him his instructions. Anger swelled within Mac towards the others, wishing they'd go away, but the frustration ebbed away as he realized they all cared for Danny just as much as he did. Maybe… maybe it was him that made this all worse for Danny. But why would that make a difference? But then, he recalled the way he'd acted the other times Danny had gotten himself into trouble. He'd gotten furious and said a lot of things he'd never thought he'd say to the kid. Just why does he get under my skin so much?

Mac never could figure out an answer to that question, leaving it as a rhetorical one for now, as the duty captain left his office. He followed him to the door and shut it quickly, before any of the onlookers got a chance to steal their way in and ask questions. Mac gave them a hearty glare which dismissed them instantaneously. Turning to Danny, he asked in a flat tone, "Do you have your brother's number or address on you? You know as well as I do that I gotta pursue all options, and to be honest, I'd much rather pursue the ones that led away from you, even if it means your brother." He bit his lip, regretting his words in fear he'd revealed too much about his true feelings.

But Danny seemed oblivious. "Yeah, I got 'em. Or the number at least." Mac was only vaguely surprised that Danny had it, as he pulled out his cell and fiddled with it. He finished and handed it to Mac. On the screen was a number, under the name Louie. Mac copied it down quickly and gave the cell phone back. Danny didn't place it back into his pocket, staring forlornly at the case file.

Mac watched the expressions forming on his face. Remorse? Fear? Anger? Sadness? What? He whispered softly, "Hey, you okay?"

He watched as Danny sank to a chair in despair. He inhaled and let it out in a shuddering sigh. Mac walked over and placed a gentle hand on his back. Danny groaned, "Yeah, I'm… I'm okay…" He looked at the wall in front of him, never at Mac.

Mac removed his hand from the younger CSI, worried that he was letting his own emotions into the way he was supposed to be treating Danny as a suspect. But, damn it… He's my employee! He's… a friend… He sat opposite Danny, in his leather chair, placing himself directly in Danny's line of sight. Danny looked away again. Why is he so afraid of me? Mac meekly suggested, "You know, if you need to talk about this…"

Danny shook his head. "No way." Mac felt stung, but Danny pressed on. "I ain't gonna talk to that counselor again. No fucking way."

Mac felt an instant rush of relief and slight amusement at Danny's mistake. But he also felt a little bit of that sting still, knowing he was the last thing on Danny's mind right now. His voice sounded strange again, as it did before. "I meant me."

Danny's eyebrows went up, and he grinned sheepishly. "Oops… Sorry, boss." He smiled again, but it didn't reach his eyes. He stood up suddenly. "I appreciate the offer, Mac, but I probably shouldn't. IAB might get the wrong idea."

Mac nodded and said disappointedly, "Right." He joined Danny to the door. "But, if you do need someone to talk to… I'm here, alright?"

Danny turned around as he entered the doorframe, stunned by Mac's words. "Thanks… Thanks, Mac." He smiled, this time allowing the action to possess all of his features. "That means a lot to me, you know?"

And then he left for his "modified assignment," hopefully feeling a little bit better, knowing someone was on his side.

Mac returned to his desk and tried to gauge Danny's reaction, but his mind just stopped functioning regularly due to his lack of sleep. He plopped into his chair and rubbed at his eyes, trying to think out a game plan. At least that part of his mind seemed to be working because he came up with his next move rather quickly.

Find Louie Messer and get the truth.

Find the truth and get Danny out of this mess.

Mac picked up his phone and dialed the number lying on his desk. It rang… and rang… and rang… Each ring made Mac's stomach churn deeply, and he was about to hang up and try again when the line clicked and a voice gruffly asked, "Hello?"

Mac inhaled and responded in his own severe abrasiveness. "This is Detective Mac Taylor. I'm you brother's boss." He heard the man inwardly groan. "I get the feeling you know he's in trouble. We need to talk. Soon." There was no mistaking the command.

Louie agreed. "Yeah, I agree. We do." There was a pause. "I need you to meet me somewhere."

Mac wasn't hesitant. "Give me an address, and I'll give you a time." The brother once again agreed and gave Mac directions. Mac's head spun as he realized how far he was going to have to drive, but he was doing this for Danny. No. For the investigation. After Louie finished, Mac gave his end of the bargain, looking over at his clock, noticing the time was approaching the hours of which night closed upon them all like a dark shroud. Where did all of today go? He thought for a second and then spoke into the phone assertively. "An hour from now."

"You got it. I'll see you then, Detective."

Mac almost took the phone from his ear to hang up when he stopped. He opened his mouth and issued a warning. "And Louie? You better be there, for Danny's sake." Sure, it wasn't the most threatening thing he'd ever come up with, but he felt better saying it, hanging up the phone quickly.

He ran out of his office, directions in hand, and sped towards his car. On his way out, he passed the office's vending machine. Mac's stomach erupted into a ferocious growl just then, insisting its owner nourish it at least once that day, even if it was junk food. Mac felt enormously guilty that he was wasting time on his own selfish needs, but the growl in his stomach became a steady ache. "Damn…" He pulled out a few dollars and stuffed them in the slot. There was no point in doing this again any time soon, so he might as well get a bunch of Snickers and Heath Bars while he could.

Mac grabbed his makeshift meal and completed his journey to the SUV without any more interruptions, outward or inward. He hopped in and drove out of the underground parking lot at a dangerous speed for an enclosed area. Mac was worried his little snack time was going to put him at a disadvantage for making the deadline. A deadline he set, mostly for himself, for he had weighed how long it would take to get to the place Louie described.

Mac drove through New York and found himself at a dissembled peace once again. His mind, despite the constant flashes and bangs which were his persistent ideas of what was going on, felt strangely at ease. Driving always had that meditative effect on the CSI, a way he relieved the stresses of everyday life. He found himself able to shut out the bad things, ironically, from inside what was basically a metal box. A metal cage.

At stoplights, he ate the only food he had for himself all day, wishing he could have one day, just one day where things didn't require him to stay all night or forget to eat. But then, he remembered why he did those things in the first place. He didn't have a home. Sure, he had an apartment, but it wasn't home. But Mac wasn't saying the crime lab was home either, for it had way too much stress to be a healthy establishment for a person's soul. But the people made a makeshift one for him somehow, leading Mac to fight for them in the only way he could… forensically.

Mac interrupted his own state of relaxed consciousness to look at the clock in his car. His sympathetic nervous system was awakened as he realized he was nearing the time he gave Louie. He looked around at his location and felt instantly relieved. He was only a street away from the location he was given.

He turned the corner and groaned. There were motorcycles and people huddling close to the entrance of a bar. Mac felt slightly worried about finding Louie in a place like this, considering he didn't exactly fit in. The hell with fitting in. Nothing a little badge won't do to get you into the worst of places. Besides, Louie said he'd wait by the entrance.

Mac pulled into a parking spot and got out of the car cautiously, grateful to have his piece on him. He walked towards the red sign, of which he could make out part of the title: "Crow Bar." Amusing… Mac, however, was less than amused as he scoured the area for a man he hadn't ever seen before.

Someone did catch his eye, though, standing close to where he was and pulling out a cigarette lighter purposefully. He looked in Mac's direction and gave the slightest of nods. That's him. Mac strode over to him and waited for Louie to finish lighting up.

Louie was not as patient. "Said you wanted to talk? I'm listening."

Mac frowned. "Your brother's in a lot of trouble, Louie. I heard his side of the story, what's yours? What went down that night? You and Danny get into it over Sonny slapping around that drug dealer, Danny leaves. Then what?" The questions were aimed to make Louie assert Danny wasn't there. Which he hoped to God Louie would say.

His hopes seemed true, considering that Louie didn't disagree. Louie answered nonchalantly, "Me, Sonny, and Sal, we dropped that kid off in a gang neighborhood, we went to AC. Why?"

Mac continued his interrogation, playing his normal game of slipping in hints of incriminating evidence and queries about Zabo, almost believing they'd work on Louie. But they didn't, which caused Mac to assume that Danny wasn't the only one with a smattering of intelligence in his family. Mac was pulled out of his interrogative state as he noticed the way Louie stuck the cigarette behind his ear. "Saving that for later?"

Louie shrugged. "Yeah, trying to quit. I've been trying to quit for years." Mac couldn't imagine why he regarded this as important, so he continued trying to get Louie to reveal the killer by unsettling his nerves a little. Despite what he told Danny, Mac really hoped it was Sonny responsible because that would satisfy the intense hatred he felt for the thug. But Louie dodged his questions again. "Don't worry about Sonny. He's gotten Danny in enough trouble. We ain't spoke in years. I got plans for him."

There was a heavy foreshadowing in his words, which Mac was able to pick up on. "What kind of plans?" His statement before about Louie's involvement with the cops hung heavily in his mind, making him now worry that he may actually be right. That Louie may actually get himself killed.

Louie sloughed it off. "Don't worry about it. All I care about right now is protecting my brother." He looked into Mac's eyes, as if daring Mac to disagree with him.

Mac held his gaze and sighed. "Okay. I'll go with it for now. But don't think for a second that you're off the hook." The other man shrugged again, making Mac wish he could smack some sense into him that he was about to get himself into something terrible. Mac chose to remain calm, warning, "You just be careful, alright? Don't give Danny any more grievances."

Mac didn't give Louie a chance to interpret his meaning, walking back to his car without a backwards glance. He opened the door to his car and drove quickly away from the bar and back to the lab. But this time, he wasn't granted with a peace of mind, as his brain buzzed through the story he just heard. Mac groaned as he realized he still wasn't any closer to his killer. His eyes felt heavy, but he forced them open, not wanting to get himself into a car accident. He navigated the roads easily, wishing he could maneuver as easily through the case and his feelings about it. No… I need to stop thinking about him.

Mac's mind didn't listen as he tried to envision the crime scene as if Danny had killed Manning. It just wouldn't play out the way it would had Sassone been the one pulling the trigger. So Mac took that to mean he honestly felt Danny couldn't have been responsible. Thank God for that… Now all he had to do was prove it, but Mac knew there was only so much evidence provided to do so. Time to look at that cigarette myself…

Mac was relieved to be back at the office, removing the candy bar wrappers from the car and disposing them when he walked into the building. He ran past his office and threw his coat onto the orange couch inside. He hurried throughout the labs and looked for the cigarette.

He located it in the evidence box for the case and was about to open it when Flack appeared at his side, winded and looking afraid. "Hey, Mac. Dispatch just called. Someone just did a hospital job on Louie Messer, Danny's brother. Beat him within an inch of his life. EMS said he wasn't breathing at the scene."

Mac felt his throat tighten. How'd it happen already? His eyes wide, he demanded, "Where's Danny?" Oh God, please don't let him do anything brash… Don't let him do something that will let him get hurt.

Flack shrugged apologetically. "I don't know…" He groaned loudly. "What should we do, Mac? Cuz Danny may wanna go after the guys who did this…"

Mac nodded. "My thoughts exactly." His heart still pounding, he came to the realization that this was partly his fault. It was his fault because Sonny probably caught him talking to Louie. Oh God… Will Danny ever forgive me? Mac swallowed and spoke quietly. "Let me call him, okay? We'll head down to the hospital his brother was taken to in a bit, so stay close. I just gotta do a few things, alright?"

"Yeah, Mac. I'll be here; just come get me when you wanna head over. And tell Danny to keep his chin up for me, will ya?" Flack smiled mirthlessly and left Mac silently. Mac had the sinking suspicion that the detective had feelings for Danny, but this was no time for jealousy.

Mac reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell, dialing Danny's number quickly. Pick it up… Pick it up… Pick up! His breath hitched as he heard Danny come on the line. "Messer." Mac could tell from his tone that he was pissed and upset.

And Mac knew that was a dangerous quality to have, but he pressed on. "Danny, it's Mac. Where are you?" He made sure he sounded calm, but the urgency pushed its way through.

Danny laughed quietly. "Where do you think I am? I'm driving to the fucking hospital…"

Mac sighed. "So you heard." It was more of a statement than a question, a statement Mac was making more to himself.

Danny laughed once again, making Mac believe he was extremely close to his sanity's breaking point. "Of course I heard! Even if I'm on a rubber gun squad, I can still hear, you know? I can still hear on another cop's radio that a Louie Messer was found beaten nearly to his fucking death!" He was yelling now, making Mac wince.

Mac waited for Danny to calm down, listening carefully as Danny's breath slowed to a steady rhythm. "Danny… I'm sorry this had to happen… but…" He tried to determine whether or not to say his next words. He went ahead despite the possibility that Danny may start yelling again. "But just stay at the hospital until I get there. Don't go anywhere else, alright?"

There was silence on the line, so for a moment, Mac thought he had been hung up on. But Danny's acquiescence came through eventually, strained and defeated. "Yeah, Mac…" Mac heard Danny curse under his breath. "Well, I gotta go because I'm at the hospital, okay?"

Mac was about to agree and say his goodbyes when he heard Danny scream over the lines. "Louie! Oh my God… Oh my God, that can't be him! Louie!"

The line went dead. "Danny? Danny!" Mac's mind raced as he tried to assess what had happened. He came to the conclusion that Danny saw Louie at the entrance to the hospital, in the process of being taken out of an ambulance. His heart was taking on an arrhythmic beat as he tried to get his mind of the way Danny sounded so scared and terrified. Because there was nothing he could do to change Louie's situation now.

But he could change Danny's. He looked downwards at the box before him and lifted the bag containing the cigarette up into his gaze. Mac ran through his procedures mentally, trying to assess what he could do with the evidence. But the best he could come up with was find a standard for comparison judging the length of time the cigarette was smoked. Why was a question he couldn't fathom an answer for just yet. He just had to do something.

So Mac looked around the labs for Adam, remembering from a few weeks ago that he had seen Adam smoking outside the building. He found him hunched over a microscope and approached. "Hey, Adam. I need a favor. You got a couple of cigarettes that you wouldn't mind I take?"

Adam stared quizzically but complied. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out his carton of Marlboro. He held it out for Mac to take a few. "Never took you for a smoker, Mac."

He was given a sad smile as Mac took three cigarettes from the carton. "Used to." Adam raised his eyebrows, at which Mac sighed. "I just need to run an experiment. Which I need to start doing, so I'll talk to you later." He was about to leave the lab when he sighed. "I'm sorry to keep bugging you, but do have a lighter I can borrow?"

Adam smiled. "Yeah." He took out a lighter and tossed it to Mac. "Keep it."

Mac caught the lighter deftly and returned the smile. "Thanks. And remind me to buy you another carton later."

"Sure thing, Mac." Adam was left to ponder what his boss was at, something Mac was even wondering.

Just why am I about to do this? Adam could just as easily do it. Hell, I could even run an Internet search and find what I'm looking for. Mac couldn't come up with an answer as he grabbed his coat from his office and headed outside. His mind was made up.

He placed the cigarette in between his lips and lit it quickly, not wanting to get any second thoughts. At least not when it could mean what he found could save Danny. Oh my God… The answer came to him in a burst of bittersweet insight.

Mac wanted to make this personal. It seemed twisted to Mac, but the sudden taste of smoke in his mouth almost made him choke, taking his mind off his confusion. He kept himself from coughing and expelled the smoke in a shaky breath, wishing his feelings could be puffed away as easily.

He continued to smoke and found himself remembering why he quit in the first place. Claire had begged him to stop a year after they married in her worry that it would take Mac away from her in the future. So Mac had remained untainted from then up until now, at which he bitterly noted that he had outlived his wife, despite her concern that the reverse would happen.

Mac repressed any further recollections and put out the cigarette even though it wasn't completed to any point he had planned for his study, wanting to take a break for a moment from the fumes. Maybe he could still use it for analysis. Snuffing it with his fingers and sticking it behind his ear, he lit up the second. He started to become readjusted to the sensations running through his body that were created by the nicotine. Mac was glad they weren't entirely pleasurable, so that he wouldn't give himself a reason to start again. No, these were his last.

He finished his smoke, and his stomach thanked him for it. He walked back inside and quickly walked back to the lab which had Danny's cigarette waiting for him. Mac ran the two used cigarettes in his hand through trace, doing it himself and entering the findings into the computer. Mac studied the photos carefully and put the cigarette in question into a Petri dish, so he could see it better. He looked at it, as if trying to discern its story.

He sighed, placing it gently back onto the table. Mac rubbed at his eyes despairingly, never even noticing that Stella had entered the lab until she spoke. "Smells like smoke in here."

Mac looked up and gazed downwards shamefully. He apologized. "Uh, it's my clothes…" He stared blankly ahead, hoping she wouldn't be disappointed when she found out what he'd been doing.

He saw out of the corner of his eye that Stella was looking at the cigarette behind his ear. Mac sighed inwardly as she stated the obvious, "You have a cigarette behind your ear," as if he didn't know the fact himself.

Mac looked at her, almost pleadingly. "Smoking experiments." He pointed towards the screen in front of him so that she could see for herself and possibly help him. "The butt on the left was partially smoked. The butt on the right was fully smoked, end to end. The partially smoked cigarette has tar stains on the mouth end only. The cigarette smoked down to the butt has tar stains on both ends."

Stella frowned slightly as she asked calmly, "What are you comparing it to?" Mac began to feel nervous because she was well aware that the only cigarette Mac could be thinking of was Danny's. She had found out just as most others did about Danny's predicament. Hell, she was working a case with Danny at the time, so it was her business to know why she was without help all of a sudden.

Yet Mac chose to speak the already known. "Cigarette butt we found in the hole at Giants Stadium." He looked downwards at the cigarette in question and frowned.

She followed his gaze and studied it. "Tar stains are on the smoking end only. Means it was a short smoke." Stella stopped and stared at Mac in confusion. "What does it matter if Danny had a quick smoke or a long one?"

This was the question Mac had to answer himself, so he was disappointed that Stella couldn't answer it for him. That meant he was at a dead end. Mac's voice was strained and slightly higher-pitched than normal. "I don't know yet. Just trying to understand how Danny' cigarette got in the grave if he wasn't inside the stadium." He looked at his friend and tried to keep his voice from shaking. "The fact is, Stella, Danny's fate hangs in the balance that we're out of evidence."

She looked away momentarily and then back at Mac, a look of disbelief plastered on her face. "We're never out of evidence." When Mac deepened his frown, she continued with a small smile. "Your words, not mine."

Stella left him to try to remember when he had said those words, but he couldn't come up with it. He looked down at the latest object of his stress. Mac didn't even know the other cigarette had fallen from his ear until it brushed against his fingertips. His fingers shook as he picked it up.

When it was at eye level, everything connected. Mac's mind went through the related memories of Danny explaining that his brother was always taking cigarettes from him. Then he saw his confrontation with Louie and when he placed the cigarette behind his ear as Mac had done. Suddenly, Mac had an image of what had really happened. Louie had picked up the cigarette Danny threw at him in frustration and placed it in his ear, only to have it fall out as he buried Manning.

Mac felt nauseous as he realized there was no way he could prove this. Not without the person in question. The person that was in the hospital, most likely because of Mac's interference. "Louie…"

Mac placed everything back into the box hurriedly, trying not to think of what he had probably caused. But the only sound he heard in his head was Danny's scream of fear. The only sight he saw before his eyes was a frightened Danny yelling out for his brother. The only feeling he felt was overwhelming guilt.

Mac shook his head and tried to clear the self-tortuous creations of a Danny in pain at his deliberations. No… It may not have been like that… It might not have been me that got him beat up. He nodded to himself, feebly attempting to rationalize that as the main reason, but his heart knew the truth as he sought out Flack and Lindsay to go see the two people he felt he had wronged.

Mac found them both in different places in the lab and practically dragged them to the garage, sparsely giving them information he had just learned for himself. Even though Mac knew Flack wouldn't protest, he was relieved when they more than readily agreed to go visit Danny. For the investigation. But Mac vetoed his own reasoning and countered its statement. No, not just for that. Danny needs to feel he has people on his side. So, no.

Mac was shocked at himself, surprised he was able to change a demeanor that had been forming and strengthening for years and break it down in a matter of minutes. For one goddamn person. All of these thoughts pooled and shuffled around as he realized he'd been driving and talking and thinking at the same time, as he saw that Flack was looking from the passenger's seat back at Lindsay.

He couldn't help but grimly smile as he rediscovered his team and their hearts. There were few times he got to see them really come together as a team, in the truest sense of the word, but when they did, they always astounded him. He just wished circumstances could have been different, as the façade to the hospital came looming up in his sights. Here we go…

Mac sighed and opened his car door, stepping out and briskly walking to the doors with out ascertaining if Lindsay or Flack were right behind him Because damn it, he didn't care about anything but Danny at that moment. And the case. Mac's old self kicked its way back in, ready to jump to Mac's defense if things went bad, a defense mechanism he'd built up for himself after Claire died.

Why can't I just stop thinking about all the bad things? Mac bit his lip and asked the nurse at the reception desk for Louie Messer, whom he was then told was in Surgery. Because bad things happen. He walked through the halls, hearing the rustle of Flack's jacket behind him, and Lindsay fell into step beside him as they approached where Surgery was said to be.

Mac could make out a figure at the window, and it took a fraction of a second to realize the person in the brown jacket was Danny. He felt his heart turn cold as he gave him a quick assessment. His forehead was resting lightly on the glass, and the rest of his body looked as if it wanted to join him and go to Louie's side. But his body was also fallen and slumped, making him look years older. It wasn't supposed to be this way; it wasn't supposed to hurt Danny even worse. That monster of guilt clawed its way back up to the surface as Mac carefully walked up to Danny's side.

He racked his brain for what to say to the kid, but nothing came up that could ask about Danny's mental condition, his brother's physical condition, and apologize in the same sentence. So he let his brain go on autopilot for a split second. "Danny, any word?"

The duress the blonde was under made its way into his voice. "Still in surgery." Mac could tell he was still close to that breaking point he had flirted with dangerously on the phone as he watched Danny shake his head sadly.

Lindsay, behind Mac, spoke up. "You okay?" To Mac, the question always seemed obvious, but he couldn't blame her for feeling worried. Hell, if anyone was worried for Danny, it was him.

So he looked to Danny, hoping he wouldn't respond aggressively to its fixed blatancy. But he surprised Mac, who took comfort in the fact that Danny was responding less fiercely to the strain, but he was also depressed by the fact it meant Danny was probably hurting himself psychologically by repressing hostile actions that he would have normally taken. He watched with mixed emotions as Danny shrugged and admitted, "Yeah, yeah. I've had better days, to tell you the truth."

Mac was relieved when Flack was the one to offer comfort because, honestly, Mac couldn't even come up with comforting words for himself at that precise moment, as he watched Danny unravel from the inside out. "He's a tough kid, your brother. He's gonna make it, alright?"

He waited to see Danny's reactions, which were a slight nod and an almost ashamed glance away. Mac bit his lip and tried to give his own advice, but he realized the only way he could help Danny in any possible way was with forensics. So, his brain whirring, he turned to Lindsay and delegated. "Lindsay, you get Louie Messer's personal effects and get them back to the lab."

She looked back at him and nodded. "Yeah." Lindsay rushed off after shooting Danny another worried glance. Maybe she likes him, too… What, does everyone in my lab like Danny? Mac shook his head and tried to avoid looking at Danny, now that his mind was inserting thoughts of "liking" Danny into the mix again.

He turned deliberately to Flack and gave him the hardest stare he could. What he was about to say mattered most to him, even more than catching Sonny. And that was keeping Danny safe. But why? "You stay here with Danny, make sure this doesn't escalate?" Even as Mac said it, he realized it came out like a question, as if he was asking Flack a favor. He continued anyways and gave his reasons. "I don't want the Tanglewood boys seeking him out, or him seeking them out." He knew Danny had heard him and felt his heart sink as he realized Danny probably thought he didn't trust him. No. He knows better. He knows that a murder investigation calls for this. Or am I really just being overprotective? Mac couldn't take the stress he was putting himself under and shifted the direction of Danny's charge to Flack, stating, "You're responsible."

No, I really am… But Flack didn't disagree with Mac's earlier statement, responding assuredly, "Yeah, we're not going anywhere. Trust me." Mac nodded and sighed.

He looked back ruefully at Danny, who was looking once again into the surgery room. Whether he was doing it to avoid seeing Mac's reaction or just his outright concern for Louie, Mac didn't know. Or both.

Mac walked away and waited by the car for Lindsay to return. He went ahead and sat in the driver's seat, leaning his head back to catch if but a moment's peace. He had barely noticed he was in the first stages of the sleep cycle until Lindsay's knock at the window awakened him. He unlocked the door and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes as she got in. She frowned, evidently seeing the actions. "Need me to drive, Mac?"

He shook his head and turned the key in the ignition, hoping that was answer enough for her. But she persisted, something he attested to the dogged determination she was known for, as well as the outright concern for the well-being of her colleagues. Mac smiled inwardly when she chided, "You need to go home and sleep."

The car rolled through the streets smoothly as it made its way to the NY crime lab. Mac didn't even turn his head to reply to her frightening resemblance to Stella. He stared onwards and said bitterly, "Yeah, but that won't get Danny off the hook." He scolded himself for answering in such a way, remaining silent.

Lindsay did too, for a while at least, before meekly pointing out, "But not being at your best won't help him either."

And Mac couldn't be mad at her for being right. He sighed softly, pulling into the familiar darkness of the garage. As they got out of the car, he turned to her. "Yeah, you're right." Her expression was one of astonishment. "Why don't you let me take that and log it in, and you go home and come back. So you can 'be at your best.'" He smiled to let her know he wasn't trying to be cynical or rude.

Luckily, she wasn't offended, but she still looked worried. "But, Mac… What about you? That isn't what I meant, you know."

Mac walked over to her and took the bag of Louie Messer's personal effects. He looked downwards at it, not wanting to give her a view of the internal fucked up world in his eyes, which right now, wanted to get to the bottom of this. All of it. He mumbled, as if he would if she were Stella scolding him for his insomnia, "It'll be my last thing I do tonight, I promise."

He looked up at last to see her frown again, but smile sadly after a moment. "Okay. But I'll be in bright and early." Lindsay bounded towards her car without a backwards glance, as if she thought that if she hurried, the daylight would come quicker, as would a new chance at the case.

Mac grimaced as he realized how close it was to daylight already, walking quickly up the steps to the lab. His mind was elsewhere as he wrote in the new evidence to the case file, as he placed everything neatly within Trace for Lindsay to examine tomorrow. Or rather, a little later today. Mac felt his eyes close every once in a while, so he made a note to get a cab and not drive, returning to his thoughts a second later. All he could focus on was the hospital scene. Danny's reactions didn't surprise him, but Mac felt overtly guilty for possibly being the sole reason his brother was beaten. And before they could make things alright between them.

Mac sighed and walked out of the labs, finished with his work at last. He walked out, past the spot where only hours before he had smoked his way back into a crowd of unwanted memories. Repression, as Freud would say. It was almost difficult to find a cab at this hour, considering even the busiest of cities had to sleep at some point, but Mac got one eventually. The driver appeared to be as tired as he was, not even bothering to make small talk. Mac almost wished for conversation, anything to get his mind off of the case.

Mac couldn't help but be let down by the system he had put stock into, the one that said if you looked for the evidence, it wouldn't let you down. That was thinking ideally, Mac knew. But most of the time, it worked. But then there were the cases that eluded everybody, particularly the forensics experts. Mac could prove that with the twenty or so open cases on his desk. Still, Mac felt depressed that Danny could go down for a murder because there was a lack of any other evidence. No, there's more… It's sitting in the lab right now.

Mac groaned quietly, trying to decide whether to just go back right now and run Trace himself, but another slip into unconsciousness told him he probably shouldn't. His eyes snapped open to see his own apartment complex. Shit, how long have I been out?

Mac quickly paid his driver, climbed out laboriously, and ran into the darkened building. He had always avoided going home because of the unwanted memories, but sometimes, necessity outweighed depressed denial. Not that he was in denial of Claire's death; he just didn't want to cope with the overwhelming stench of things left unsaid.

No, I'm supposed to have moved on. Mac paused, getting a burst of insight that frightened him. I suppose I have… to Danny. He thrust the thought away, opening his door viciously and stalking into his gloomy abode. He sighed, flipping the light switch on before closing the door.

Hello, memories. Luckily, the forty-eight plus hours awake was keeping them away, without any conscious aid from Mac. He trudged to his bedroom and didn't even bother to turn on the light. Fumbling in the darkness, he finally managed to find his old alarm clock and set it for two hours from that moment. Claire bought this for me… was the last bitter thought he had before falling asleep, all his clothes still on.

The blare of the alarm seemed to happen just as his head hit the pillow, but instead of frustration, Mac felt worried and the first thoughts he had were of Danny. And how he had work to finish, even if he was running on one run through the ninety minute sleep cycle.

Mac sighed and quickly hurried about getting ready, making sure to only do the absolute necessary: shower, change, grab a granola bar for the trip back. And that's it, that's all Mac Taylor allowed himself.

Twenty minutes later he was in a cab back to the lab, noting angrily the already rising sun, frustrated he didn't stay to run Trace like he wanted. But he knew there was no use fighting biological needs, after all, it was the second lowest tier on Maslow's hierarchy, following only the needs of security. And that's what Danny is missing right now…

Mac instantly shoved everything away from his mind, berating his heart for trying to bombard it with emotions. That was a motto he lived by and imparted on almost all of his employees. "Think with your head, not with your heart."

Mac leaned against the woolly seats, closing his eyes to take into effect that he needed to be on the ball right now. Because right now, he had nothing. But he hoped to have more very soon, with Louie's personal effects.

The lab came into view, causing Mac's heart to race a little faster, his mind run a little harder. He was grateful to the speed at which he had gotten there, tipping the driver graciously and speed walking into the building. The labs were filled with swing, as it was their shift even at the earliest hours of morning. But his office was still his, which he walked towards to dispose of his jacket.

Walking through the labs, he spotted something and stopped in his tracks. He saw something he hadn't expecting. Something that filled him with a sort of fatherly pride and slight indignation at having not been listened to.

Lindsay was in Trace, already working busily at the evidence.

He walked in and asked pointedly and obviously, "Louie Messer's personal effects?" Mac already knew they were, but he wanted Lindsay to say it and possibly answer the unspoken question of what the hell she was doing here when he said to go home.

But she never did, still inspecting a black device with careful scrutiny. Her voice was excited when she spoke to Mac. "I think you might want to see this. He was wearing a wire. It was badly damaged from when they beat him." The last bit sounded noticeably less eager, considering the damage it had done to someone very close to all of those at CSI.

But Mac now had his chance to rectify the situation. His breath caught in his throat as he realized what it meant, but he managed to still delegate duties despite how increasingly anxious he was. "See if you can pull any trace of these clothes. I'll be on this tape."

He took the tape from her with careful deliberation, pushing the doors open with his free hand, trying to anticipate what Louie could have found. Please God, let it not be too far gone to salvage. Mac knew now what Louie had planned for Sonny, as he found the needed equipment in the other lab. His hands full, he went back to his office and set everything on his desk.

Mac sighed as he tore off his jacket aggressively. Rolling up his sleeves, he focused his mind on repairing the broken tapes. The task took him a good while to rebuild it, for it took a delicate touch that he reserved for handling evidence. Mac's body was taught as he neared the finished product.

Beads of sweat rolled down his neck, which was warm from the sunlight now pouring in through the windows. Come on. The tape was complete, so he popped it quickly into a tape player. Oh God, here we go. Please, let this work.

Mac held his breath and felt almost relieved to hear the scratchy voice of someone he recognized to be Louie Messer. Until he realized that this was probably Louie's last stand. Shivering in mortification, he heard Louie speak. "Sonny Sassone."

Mac smiled as he realized Louie set up that statement and his next ones to ensure that if a cop heard this, he'd know exactly what was going down. Mac had used the tactic before. So he wasn't surprised when Louie cut right to the chase. "They found that kid in the hole, Sonny. They think that my brother's got something to do with this."

He was even less shocked at Sonny's reaction. It was expectant and annoyed. Maybe he knows what Louie's up to. "What do you want me to do? Walk in there, confess to that mug Mac Taylor?" Mac smirked, but kept listening.

"You know that my brother wasn't there. I punked him outta there. I knew where you going that night, and he wasn't ready to see all of that." Mac smiled mirthlessly at the confirmation of his earlier theory of Louie being an ass to Danny just to get him away from the murder. But he thought of something else, something worse. Damn, the kid may be smart, but not smart enough because Sonny's gotta know where he's going with this.

Mac was tense as he waited to see if Sonny was gullible enough to take the bait. "Yeah, he bitched out. You, me, and Sal put Hoffa in the endzone for the touch down. So what?" Damn, not there yet. Come on, Sonny. You're an arrogant enough prick to give me what I need to put you away for the rest of your worthless life.

So he was thrilled when Sonny continued, "Speaking of bitch, Zabo cried and threw up all night. I was the one who turned his light off. Pure and simple Mafia style."

Mac's eyes widened as he heard what he needed. What he'd been searching for the past few hours. But before he could do anything, the tape whirred on. Sonny growled, "I put that fucker in the ground and said, 'Sweet dreams, dead man.' So now, I gotta ask. What the fuck you doing, Messer? You got someone watching you, or something? Because you've been acting funny and talking funny. And you know I was never one for jokes."

Mac felt nauseated as he heard the first blow land. He turned the tape off before he could hear more. Closing his eyes, he slowly stood up from his desk. Damn. What a price to pay for the truth. If I could have only found it myself, then the Messers wouldn't be in this mess. Yet Mac came to the realization that this tape proved he wasn't solely responsible for the brutality, but the guilt remained.

A tap on his shoulder caused Mac's heart to jump. Whirring around, he came face to face with Lindsay. Not shaken by his shock, she asked sadly, "That's the tape from the wire, isn't it?" Mac nodded slowly and collected his jacket. "You okay? You look upset."

Mac pulled his jacket on, making sure to keep the tape player in his pocket, at the ready for its uncensored unveiling to a very guilty Sassone. He sighed and looked up at Lindsay with anger in his eyes, anger that wasn't directed at her. "I'm pissed. Because Sonny killed someone and got away with it once. But not this time. Louie already made sure of that, so I definitely won't let him or Danny down. So if you excuse me, I've got a criminal to lock up."

As he walked out the door, he was halted once again by Lindsay. "Hey, Mac?" He turned. "After you get Sassone, do you think I could take the tape to Danny? I mean, from what you said last night, he thinks his brother lied to him for fifteen years."

Mac pursed his lips, weighing the toll it could take on Danny's mind. But he knew it would be for the better. He nodded and smiled faintly, even more proud of the intuition Lindsay was shaping each day.

The older CSI didn't make any more time for goodbyes, dashing to his car and radioing in that he required backup at a nearby construction site. Mac felt as if everything had been building up to this moment, everything from almost a year ago was about to reach closure. All the answers he wanted about Danny's affiliation with Tanglewood had been answered in the last forty-something hours, and his main target for imprisonment, aside from DJ Pratt, was about to go away for good.

So he walked confidently up to the Mafia man, dressed in another track suit that just accentuated the pounds he'd put on. Sonny glared, not bothering to get up. "Mac Taylor. My favorite person." The sarcasm was thickly thrust at Mac, who felt even a swift punch to his stomach wouldn't bring down this feeling of accomplishment.

He smiled ominously at the mob boss, noting out of the corner of his eye the two cops walking up behind Sassone. Mac kept his outside demeanor calm, even though his internal body was a tumultuous fervor of anxiety. "I got something you might wanna hear, Sonny. Something that's gonna change everything."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

Mac brandished the tape player he'd been fingering nervously the whole car ride. He flipped it on and watched Sonny's face as he listening to Louie ascertain that they did indeed bury Manning in the end zone. But Sonny smugly shrugged. "What are you gonna do? Arrest me for digging?"

Despite how much he wanted to punch Sonny, Mac kept his cool, much to his own surprise. "Murder, too, for starters."

Sonny shook his head, still smiling. "You know what? I still gotta say, I'm not worried about this." He directed his pompous grin up at Mac, obviously hoping Mac would blow his fuse.

But Mac wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He had a leg up on Sonny at last, so he was going to savor every bit of his victory. Since Sonny had chosen to allude to their earlier conversation, Mac did as well. "You should be. Keep listening."

The tape rolled onwards, leading Sonny's face to contort into a mixture of fury and fear. Mac, knowing full well he had hit home, was more than happy to put an end to Sonny's prolonged freedom. "You worried now?" Sonny kept his mouth closed, making Mac smirk, as he realized Sonny wasn't acting like his usual big-mouthed self. "Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up, Sonny. Now it's my turn to have the final say. On your feet."

Sonny obliged in defeat, so a small part of Mac was glad things didn't have to resort to violence. But he was aggressive anyways, as he roughly put the cuffs around Sonny's wrists. He leaned in towards Sonny's ear and repeated the words he had heard only minutes before. "Sweet dreams, dead man."

Maybe it was perverse, but Mac felt better after saying it. He let the other cops take Sonny to booking in their cars. Mac still had to close up the case legally, filling out paperwork needed to cinch a sure case against Sonny.

But Mac was in awe that his brain was still going at top-speed, making his head spin as he drove back to the lab. Danny. Mac shook his head. This isn't the time for that. What I need to do for Danny is make one hundred percent sure that Sonny is never coming back.

The thought seemed to reassure Mac, giving him a hopeful thought to cling to for the next few hours, in which he filled out the case file wearily but with steadfast eager. He completed all that he could, not even noticing Lindsay's entrance until she was at his desk. His head snapped up, but he smiled. "You seem to be giving me near-heart attacks a lot lately."

She smiled, seemingly glad to see Mac grin once again. "Yeah… Sorry, Mac." She paused and bit her lip. "Umm… do you think I could take a copy of that tape to Danny now?"

Mac's eyes widened, remembering their talk earlier. He mentally slapped himself as he pulled out the tape player from his pocket. "Yeah, get Adam to make you one. And then after you let Danny hear it, you come straight back here and tell me what he said, alright? Oh, and let Flack know he can come back and finish helping Stella with her case." Mac added that quickly, recalling that he had "assigned" the detective to spend the night with Danny. An assignment he wished he had given himself, but Mac knew it wasn't one he was cut out for. He wasn't good at giving comfort, especially if the receiver was a person of special interest. Nope, he left that to Flack, but still, he was jealous.

Oh, cut it out. You got a job to do. He gave a wave to Lindsay as she left and was cleaning up his desk when his phone rang. He picked it up quickly, listened raptly for a moment, and said bluntly into the phone, "I don't give a shit if he has a lawyer who knows somebody. That tape is enough for immediate and permanent booking, alright?"

He hung up and got up to head to Trace, to see what Lindsay had found on Louie's clothes. He assumed it wasn't much, otherwise, she would have told him when she came in only moments before. Looking around her neat work area, he could assess that he was right. But Mac was determined to get Sonny for much more than the murder. He wanted to get him for causing further pain to the Messers.

Mac began to go over every crevice of the bloodied clothing. What hadn't been pulled off of them by Lindsay or even earlier transference just wasn't making itself known to Mac. Frustrated, he placed everything back where it had been and stalked back to his office. He plopped back into his chair, upset as he realized he wasn't doing all that he could for Louie and Danny. He tried to concentrate and focus, but the idea of Danny listening to the tape kept haunting him. So Mac sat impatiently tapping at his desk when Stella entered. She smiled warmly at him.

"I hear you finally nailed that bastard." Her excitement seemed to be on level with his earlier eagerness, evident in the way she spoke and held herself.

Mac returned the smile faintly. "Yeah… It's almost over with." He looked down for a moment, trying to brush away the thoughts of unfinished business. His eyes swerved back up as he collected his emotions. "So what happened with your case?"

Stella began to talk animatedly with Mac, and both of them giggled nervously when she mentioned getting hit on by the woman, just as if they were back in a high school setting. But things became serious once again as Stella returned to Mac's case suddenly. "Hey, how's Danny taking all of this?"

Mac sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I dunno yet. I just sent Lindsay to fill him in and show him the tape." Stella stared quizzically, making Mac remember Stella hadn't been told the exact details of how they nailed Sonny. He went ahead and described everything to her. When he was finished, he stared despondently back at the file glaring at him from the edge of his desk. "There just wasn't enough evidence for me to do the job myself."

Stella walked over to him and rubbed at his shoulder. "Stop beating yourself up, Mac. You got the guy, so you should be more than happy, no matter how you got him. And Danny will be too."

Mac's voice was hoarse as he croaked out timidly, "But how can he be happy knowing that his brother was the only way he could have been saved? Knowing I could do nothing? I let him down, Stella…"

Her hand fell to her side. Mac was on the verge of losing the nerve he had kept cool for almost two days, now telling him it was time to let go. But Stella somehow, as she always did, kept him from going past that limit. "Mac, if you're so worried about it, why don't you see what Lindsay says, and then if she says he's upset, go and talk to him. Try to make this better. For both of you. Because I hate to see you like this."

Stella's smile faltered as she left the office, leaving Mac to sit miserably in his chair, still waiting for Lindsay. So Mac was once again tormented by the silence, for it brought about thoughts of everything, and this time, not just of Danny. Of his time in the Marines, of Claire, of that horrid September day, of just about everything in Mac's life that had brought about the person he was now. And Mac couldn't help but realize that the person he was now wasn't the person he was only a year ago, thanks to the one person he feared to face at that precise moment.

A knock at the door snapped him away from the self-mutilation of his mind. He was instantaneously relieved and worried at the same time, paradoxically representing the unease he felt of hearing Lindsay's news. And from how Lindsay was trying to avoid frowning, Mac could tell it wasn't good. Oh God…

She timidly walked in and sat down in the chair opposite Mac. Sighing, she finally spoke up. "Yeah… Let's just say it didn't go over so well." Mac's eyes widened, fearing that she meant it to be that Danny responded violently, possibly taking it out on a wall or her. But Lindsay interrupted him before he could even voice his concerns. "He wasn't mad or anything… He listened, kinda got this serious look on his face, and asked to listen to it again. So I let him and the second time through, he nearly snapped. It looked as if he was about to cry or yell or I don't know… He… He just didn't take it well." She looked sadly down at the file in front of her. "But then, who would?"

Mac sighed in agreement. He looked back at her and smiled weakly, making up his mind to do what Stella advised and pay a visit to the kid himself. "Thanks for telling me, Lindsay."

She stood up and smiled back in a half-hearted way. "Yeah, no problem. I just wish there was more we could do for them, you know? Because I didn't get anything off of Louie's clothes that could tie Sonny to it…"

"I didn't either." Lindsay frowned quizzically at him. "Oh, I kinda went through them while you were talking to Danny. Just trying to do what you said and help Danny out. I don't know why I did, though, because I assumed you didn't find anything either."

This time when Lindsay grinned, it was wide, which shocked Mac that she wasn't mad for his double check of her work. "I know why." He lifted an eyebrow. "You're looking out for the people you care about Mac. And you'd move heaven and earth to do that. Am I right?"

Mac was still in awe. He managed to utter in good humor, "You know, it's becoming increasingly evident to me of how much you act like Stella… It's almost scary, actually." He grinned to let her know he was joking, which she returned happily. He looked back down at the file and thought for a second. "Can you bring me your official findings really quick so I can enter them in the file? I know I already did it, but I don't know if that may qualify as some technicality Sonny may try to get off on, so…"

Lindsay cut him off. "I get your drift. I'll be right back." She bounded out of his office to complete her given task.

Mac waited silently, contemplating whether paying a visit Danny would be the right thing for either of them right now. Even if he wasn't violent with Lindsay, he may get angry if he sees me… After all, I do seem to bring out the worst in him. Mac felt nauseous again, so he tried to avoid making himself even worse by thinking of it further. But then that nausea blossomed into a gurgle. Hungry again… Damn… He fished around his desk drawers for his stash of snacks, opening a bag of Goldfish and eating them ravenously, glad to find a mindless task to divert his attention away from his own attacks upon himself.

Lindsay reentered just as he finished his miniscule dinner and placed the papers in her hand neatly on his desk. Mac grinned gratefully. He looked outside quickly, noticing that the sun was once again disappearing as it had yesterday: surreptitiously not making anyone aware that it was waving goodbye for the evening. Where did the day go again? He looked back towards Lindsay and quickly stated, "I'll take care of this, but I want you to go home now." Lindsay's eyes bulged in protest. "No arguments and no loopholes this time. Go home, get more than eight hours of sleep, and don't return until you've done so. Otherwise, I will dock your pay. And I'm not joking."

Lindsay swallowed nervously, but she agreed. "Sure thing. But you will call if a case comes in, right?"

"No. Not if eight hours hasn't passed." Mac smiled again. "Now get out of here." She gave him a wave and left his office, so Mac was left with his least favorite part of his job as a police officer: paperwork. He was frustrated that there was still some left even after his work with it earlier today, but he knew everything had to be documented carefully and meticulously, so as to make no mistakes.

It was an hour before Mac finished his scrupulous work. The sun was already long gone, so the detective groaned loudly, stretching as he stood up. Time to go… But am I really going to do this? He collected his coat, left the file on his desk, locked his office door, and walked to his car. I guess so… His brain momentarily ran on autopilot as he turned the key in the ignition and started the drive to the hospital. But at the sight of its exterior, it switched back on. Oh God, I can't do this. But I have to… for Danny. And not for the fucking investigation.

He parked his car and shivered in the light chill that draped around him. His footfall was heavy at his approach to the doors of the hospital. But suddenly, Mac saw a figure exiting the building that looked all too familiar.

Dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, a brown sports jacket and tank top, was Danny, trudging and obviously upset.

Mac felt his heart shoot pains into the rest of his chest as he noticed the missing glasses, replaced by a bleary redness. He knew Danny saw him, changing his direction ever so slightly. Does he want me to talk to him? Mac couldn't be sure, but there was no turning back. He whispered gently, "Hey."

Danny looked away for a moment and then back at Mac, making the elder CSI wonder if something had made him able to look him in the face in the past 24 hours. Danny replied, "Hey."

Mac tried to assess all the possible things he could say to make the hurt in Danny's eyes go away, but none seemed appropriate for the situation. So Mac instead just asked politely but also to feed his own worried curiosity, "How's your brother?"

Danny seemed to flounder for his voice, barely able to mouth "No," leaning up against the window to steady himself. Mac felt his heart pang again at the alarming sight.

A sight he still felt responsible for. Mac tried for an apology as well as his own explanation for Danny, hoping it would somehow bring closure to Danny, as well as to maybe ease a little guilt off himself. "Lindsay told me you, uh, listened to the tape. We did everything we could forensically, but in the end, it was Louie who saved you." Mac knew Danny deserved to hear the last bit in a more condensed version that what he heard on the tape, so that if Danny hadn't figured it out by now, Mac could guide him to the notion that his brother never meant anything of the things he said on that night.

But Mac instantly found out that Danny knew. Danny choked on his words, so that the only thing Mac could decipher was an anguished, "Oh." Mac wanted to believe the unintelligible word that was cut off was his name, but he decided against such wishful thinking when his CSI was close to the brink of losing his nerve.

So, perhaps a little bit blatantly, he asked, "You okay?" He knew Danny wasn't, but he somewhat hoped that Danny would snap into his normal defense mechanisms once he realized someone could tell he was hurting.

It appeared to head in that direction when he found his voice again. "They beat my brother pretty bad." The latent aggression in the statement disappeared to form a sob. "They… they beat him really bad, Mac." He sobbed openly, in extreme and evident distress.

Oh my God… he's… But that was the last thought as Mac reached out for Danny, whispering a mumbled, "Come on." Mac didn't care anymore if this wasn't like him or like Danny, all he could think to do was help stop the tears. But Mac felt himself ease into the hug, grasping blindly at Danny's back and the back oh his head. Oh… The feelings overwhelmed him at the first contact of this nature played its way out. Mac could still feel the tremors going through Danny, so he assumed instinctively it was still alright to keep holding him. Mac almost started to cry, as well, as it dawned upon him that this was the first humane contact he'd ever had with Danny. He pulled Danny closer, tightening his gentle, protective embrace. This feels so right, but it's gotta end some time.

Just as Mac began to think again, Danny's sobs began to ebb away. Mac loosened his hold ever so slightly, trying to let it be Danny that pull away first, so as to make it not seem as if Mac was uncomfortable. But I don't wanna come off as overly touchy-feely though… But Danny stopped his concerns quickly, stepping backwards slowly.

Mac searched his face for what Danny could be thinking. But Danny kept it hidden, staring feebly at his feet. He managed to mumble, "Thanks… Thanks, Mac."

"Any time, Danny." He grasped at Danny's shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. The younger man seemed to smile at the contact, even if it was a tiny one.

Danny looked up at Mac, and when he did, Mac's heart once again gave a jolt. Danny's face was contorted into a mixture of emotions that Mac didn't even try to place. "Mac… I'm so sorry… about all of this."

Mac realized his breathing had been quickened, so he willed it to slow down. He almost lost his own voice as he croaked out a response. "Just what the hell do you have to be sorry about?" It was aggressive, but in the sense to get a point across.

Danny seemed to understand that, looking away from Mac in shame. "Yeah, but it's just…"

"Just what, Danny? You can't have prevented any of this! Nobody could have, really. The only one to blame is Sonny, alright?" Mac surprised himself with this outburst, as he came to notion that he finally had expelled all of his guilt. Well, not all. He continued, in a quieted tone. "And if you want, I can stay here with you for a bit longer. I don't have anywhere I need to be."

Danny's eyes snapped up to meet Mac's, peering at them for a moment. He straightened up in the slightest. "Yeah, would you? I don't know if I can look at him like that again without losing it again. I guess it would be nice to have someone to talk to. At least 'til my parents get here."

"Your parents are coming?" It was the first he'd heard of the later generation of Messers in a while. So as he and Danny walked back towards the room, Danny asserted their upcoming arrival, but he switched the subject to other things. Mac couldn't blame him for trying to repress his feelings, because sitting in the room where an injured loved one was, whether or not someone was there to help you through it, was quite a toll on a person. But Mac wasn't sure if it was worse than never even seeing the body. But Mac pushed the thought away. Right now is about Danny.

The minutes ticked by as their conversation progressed, but still in the same small talk fashion, because as far as Mac was concerned, he wasn't about to bring up the case unless Danny wanted to himself.

So both nearly jumped when a tall, reedy man opened the door violently. A shorter woman appeared at his side, and it was evident she had been crying. Mac could easily name them as the Messers. They entered, the father much more ominously than the mother. The old man shot a glare at Danny and then directed it towards Mac. "Who are you?"

Mac stood up and extended a hand, hoping the gesture would be received, as it would give Mac a bit more confidence that this man wasn't the type he feared. But he never did shake his hand. Yet Mac was steadfast, dropping his hand and stating plainly, "I'm Detective Mac Taylor, Danny's boss. I'm sorry about what happened to Louie, sir. And, ma'am," he added, nodding towards the woman.

But Danny's father just deepened the worry Mac had about his character, growling. "Well, sorry ain't going to change what happened." Mac looked furtively at Danny, who was staring blankly at the floor. What the hell is going on? The grey-haired man continued, "Now, Detective, if you wouldn't mind, I think my family needs to be alone for the time being."

Mac nodded and quickly said, "Of course." He walked towards the door without glancing at the faces of the newly arrived. But he did give Danny one more look once outside the room, except this time, Danny was looking back. Mac was frightened when he saw Danny's eyes plead with him, as if he wanted him to stay.

So Mac did, sitting across the hall on the bench, out of the view of the window, for his instincts told him that if Mr. Messer saw him, things wouldn't go over so well. Which led Mac to ponder the family history of the Messers. What's to ponder? The man obviously has serious anger issues. I just hope not at Danny. Mac sat ill at ease for another few minutes, until his fears were confirmed.

Shouts, mostly from Danny's father, pervaded throughout the deserted hallway. He rose from his seat and briskly walked back to the room, determined that even if this was a family affair, there was no way Danny needed to take the fall.

But before he could even put a hand on the doorknob, Mac saw Danny's father pull back a fist and slam it into Danny's face. He felt his heart stop as he ran into the room, just as Danny fell to the floor from the power of the blow.

All inhibitions lost in his anger, Mac thundered, "Just what do you think you're doing to my detective?"

The room's atmosphere was coursing with deadly electricity. Most shockingly to Mac, Danny was the one to break the silence. "Mac… please... don't."

Mac felt injured, but from all of his dabbles in cases of abuse, the victims usually protested against outside assistance. He was about to ignore his comment and continue yelling when Danny was kicked at sharply. "You just shut your fucking mouth! You've done enough!"

"Hey, if you do that again, I swear to God, I'll put you under arrest." Mac's voice was cold and vehement, as he glared into the eyes that gave him chills and not the good ones either.

Those eyes glared back as the voice attached to them taunted, "For what? For knocking some sense into my pathetic excuse of a son? To me, that ain't a crime, especially considering it's his fault all of this happened."

Mac's temper blew just then. "Listen to me, you son-of-a-bitch. That kid down there is a far cry from a "pathetic excuse" of just about anything. Don't take your anger out on him just because you're a pathetic excuse of a father."

"Mac…" Danny tried to stop Mac, rising to his knees weakly.

But Mac's fury was too far along to be stopped. "Let me finish. I don't care who you are or that you're Danny's father. But don't you dare blame this on him." This seemed to make the other man frown in apprehension, so Mac continued fearlessly. "It's not his fault this happened. If there's anyone to blame it's me." The father scoffed. "I was the last person to talk to Louie before Sonny got to him. And we were talking about how Sonny killed Manning." He looked down at Danny, who shot him a horrified look. He returned back to glaring at his new opponent, trying to ignore the fact Danny may be seeing Mac in a new light, a skewed light of being at fault for all of this. "Now, I'm gonna take Danny out of here so you can cool off, but if you still want to hurt anyone, then I suggest you take a sock at me."

He walked over to Danny without any further confrontation, helping him stand up as his parents watched in silence. Danny's mother didn't seem to disagree with anything that had just happened, sadly looking away from Mac's gaze. Danny stumbled to his feet, purposefully not looking at anyone. Mac knew it would be a blow to Danny's already crushed dignity if he did anything else other than help him up, so he kept a hand at Danny's shoulder as they escaped the room languidly.

Mac waited until they were well out of sight of the room to put the hand on Danny's shoulder. The muscles tensed, just as Danny spun to face him. "Why? Why did you come in there? You shoulda just kept outta it. Now…" His face crumpled, and for a moment, Mac feared that he would start crying again. But if he was, Danny held it in. He looked back up at Mac and raggedly sighed.

Mac rubbed the shoulder softly. "Hey, no one has any right to do that to you, Danny. Nobody. Alright?" Danny nodded slowly, looking nervously in the direction of Louie's room. Mac swallowed as he got a clear view of the already forming bruise on Danny's cheek. "You should get that checked out. Come on, let's…"

"No." Danny shifted his gaze back to Mac and glared sadly. "No, I can't do that. I've… I've had worse, and not just from him. So just… just…"

"Just what, Danny? Let him get away with it? Leave you wounded without anything to fix it?" He meant the last question literally, but in his mind, it shaped into a double-edged sword, the other, deadlier side being metaphorical. And referring to the wound in Danny's heart, nonetheless.

Danny's breathing quickened. He pulled away from Mac's grasp and shuffled his feet. Mac couldn't help but liken Danny to a caged animal, restless and fearful. "I dunno, Mac. I just… I just wanna get outta here. Just for the time being… Can we…"

Mac couldn't refuse the miserable quality of the plea. "Yeah, where do you want us to go?" He didn't want to pick, nervous that any choice may be a wrong one or may suggest something he didn't feel was appropriate for the situation.

Danny bit his lip, thinking. Finally, he spoke. "I kinda need to pick up some new clothes and maybe shower, so can we head to my place? I'm kinda freaking out that if I drive, I may get into an accident, the way my nerves are right now."

Mac grimaced but said warmly, "Sure, my car's outside." Thus began the silent walk to the SUV. Mac barely worked up the courage to break that eerie silence to ask, "Umm, how do you get to your place?" His voice sounded off, almost higher pitched, as the idea sank in that he was actually going to Danny's apartment. Oh… my… God… You need to get it out of your head now that this is leading anywhere. He's distressed and doesn't want to drive himself; he does not feel the same way.

His rationalization only comforted him in the slightest as Danny gave him directions and proceeded to remain silent throughout the whole ride, leaving Mac to feel increasingly frustrated with himself that he couldn't coax out any further information from Danny. After this blows over, Danny and I are going to have a long discussion about his parents. He pulled the key out of the ignition as Danny exited the car. Mac followed suit, not really thinking about what he was doing until they were at the building's entrance. His voice was taught as he queried, "You want me to wait in the car? Or should I come up with you?"

Danny turned, his face forming a faint boyish smirk. "Isn't that what you're already doing, Mac?" He nodded towards the door and entered, walking briskly to the elevator across the hall. Mac followed, embarrassed and even more confused by everything. But he got the feeling Danny didn't want to be alone just yet, especially when he gruffly said when waiting for the elevator, "There's always a first for everything, so I might as well show you the place now."

Which made for a tense elevator ride, during which Mac stared at the panels on the wall, wondering if this was a mistake. I should have just stayed in the car. I… can't do this. The doors slid open with the sound of a bell, so Mac gave Danny the honors of exiting first. They walked torpidly down the carpeted hallway to a numbered door where Danny stopped. He fished for a key in his pocket for a few seconds, drawing it out eventually and using it to hurriedly open the door.

Mac watched him enter, but he stayed outside, anticipating what going in could spell for them both. It's not as if he's inviting me to… No, stop being such a lecherous bastard, Taylor. Danny waved his hand about the room and laughingly said in bitter tones, "Welcome to my shitty place. Not what you thought, huh?" He spun to look at Mac and frowned when he saw him still in the doorway. "You can come in, you know. I don't got rats or anything, I swear."

"Right…" Mac plunged into the worn-down room, not wanting to draw out his embarrassment any further. He looked about the room, assessing that this was a place a lot like his own: a place for sleep only and nothing more. It saddened him to realize Danny was well on his way to becoming like Mac, so he lamented if it was already too late to correct. He inhaled and gave a small smile to the expectant man in front of him. "It's not shitty, Danny. It could use a little dusting, maybe, but it's your place, so that's gotta be worth something."

He noted the confusion that brought about in Danny's face, a look that disappeared as quickly as it had come. Danny sighed loudly, walking towards the couch and gesturing towards it. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I go grab my stuff, alright?"

It was Mac's turn to frown. He passed Danny by assertively, making his way to the kitchen. "No, you aren't doing anything until you get ice on that bruise. I may not have let you get checked out at the hospital, but I will not let you get by without receiving some form of treatment."

Danny made vocalizations of protest as Mac bustled about, searching for a Ziploc to put the ice in. He located one quickly and opened the freezer to fill it. He zipped it up, searching through drawers to find a dishtowel to wrap it in. His actions were so methodical that he didn't even realize he was done until he was seated opposite Danny on the couch, placing it gently to his face. Oh God, what am I doing? I'm acting like a mother, damn it. He probably thinks I'm being overprotective.

His thoughts were interrupted by the brush of fingertips against his own that were holding up the bag. His body convulsed with excited shivers. Danny whispered throatily, "I got it. Thanks…" Mac let go quickly and looked away from the intense stare he was receiving from Danny. What is wrong with me?

The question was left unanswered, as Mac was left with no time for pretty much anything, finding himself beneath Danny, who was attacking his lips forcefully with his own. He tried to audibly protest, but his tongue seemed to be caught in a war with Danny's, and the products of his attempts only came out as a low and muffled moan of pleasure. Hands roamed up his jacket sleeves, and as they reached his face, Mac seemed to connect back with reality. No. No. This is all wrong!

Mac had to use a prying gentleness to ease Danny away from him. "We can't do this now, Danny. It's just…"

It was then he noticed the tears streaming down Danny's face. Once observed, he could feel the wet stains on his own cheek, more than likely transferred in the lip lock.

Danny's voice cracked as he leaned back into Mac's comfort zone. "Please… just… I need…"

What? What do you need? I can't do anything if you don't tell me! Mac's mind was screaming as they kissed again, sitting up on the couch, the bag of ice all but forgotten by Mac, who was taking extreme care not to be too aggressive in his kisses. But no matter what his body was doing, his mind seemed to be in violent protest. NO. I am taking advantage of him. Whose needs are being met, his or mine?

The kiss deepened, Mac ending up on top this time. He adjusted his weight so as to not crush Danny, but when he did so, he felt Danny's erection beneath his thigh. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Danny moaned and tried to fumble with Mac's coat. Mac slid off of him to take it off, just as Danny slid his own off and assailed Mac again, pulling him back on top of him. Is this what he wants? He wants me to be the aggressor?

Mac assumed so, considering Danny's hands were reaching in between them to unbutton his own pants. Mac sharply inhaled into the kisses, trying to decide a plan of action. Just get it over with… He shifted his weight once again and tried to position it so that Danny's pants were easily accessed. Mac slowly ran his hand down Danny's shirt, eliciting small tremors in the muscle beneath it. His hand finally reached the top of Danny's pants and boxers.

Without hesitation, he slid it in and took Danny roughly in his hand. Danny gasped, pulling out of the kiss to breathe laboriously. Mac took this to his advantage, licking a trail up to Danny's ear, taking in the taste of a day's worth of sweat. What am I doing? If this is about him, I gotta make it that way… He began to roughly move his hand, massaging the hot flesh and entirely ignoring his own physical discomfort, trapped in his tight slacks. He returned to kissing Danny, trying to stifle the moans Danny's thrusts were causing.

He looked at Danny and almost broke down when he saw Danny had his eyes closed. He doesn't want this… So he loosened his grasp ever so slightly, not expecting Danny's eyes to snap open frightfully. He certainly didn't expect the forceful thrust back into his hand. Or maybe he does… He frantically built the speed back up, barely acknowledging Danny's hands slowly working their way down Mac's back. The hands knotted fistfuls of his shirt as Danny came over his hand and pants. Danny cried out, detaching himself from the kiss yet again.

Mac sighed inaudibly, removing his messy hand from inside Danny's pants, easing himself off Danny to allow him to breathe more easily. What have I done? He's going to hate me for what I did… He looked away from Danny and his own hand, loathing his hormones and feelings.

So the next action caught him completely off guard. He felt Danny's breath at his neck and his chest against his back. Danny's hands slid down Mac's chest, fingering the button of his slacks carefully and decisively. Mac's eyes widened as he felt his pants loosen considerably; he nearly yelped when Danny's cold hand slid underneath his boxers and approached his erection. What the hell is he doing? Is he doing this because he feels he has to?

Danny whispered in his ear, "Mac, just ease up… Let me do this, okay?" He felt lips on his neck, tenderly kissing him into the breakdown he had been holding off the last few days. Tears streamed down his face, and he didn't even know why. He was glad Danny couldn't see them from behind him, but all thoughts were cut off when the hand that had been resting for the last few seconds moved and wrapped around his erection.

He hissed softly and threw his head back into Danny's body. He felt a heat swell in his stomach, as he was already aroused from his earlier actions with Danny. His body shuddered as Danny built a steady rhythm in his pants and at his neck. Mac's focus shattered at the sensory overload, and all he could do was groan. His mouth went dry, and the taste of Danny was met with the all too familiar taste of tears, which were still silently rolling down his cheeks.

Mac closed his eyes, trying to allow himself an easier concentration, but he wanted to take in everything. The hand still pumping, he looked around in his limited view of Danny's world from his seat on the couch.

But Mac felt the heat reach a bursting point, and for a moment, he was worried that their awkward sitting positions would be compromised and that they would end up on the floor when he came, but the following orgasm shut out all thoughts and pretty much everything else. Mac cried out Danny's name and coiled his hands around the cushion beneath him to keep from falling.

As the convulsions stopped, Mac felt everything, including his mind, turn back on to a hazy, detached point. But the tears had stopped, so Mac was grateful for that. He turned fearfully towards Danny, who had removed his hand from Mac's pants and was now staring at Mac. He frowned, leaning in to kiss Mac one more time, pulling away quickly to ask, "Why were you crying?" Mac's eyes widened in shock, so Danny continued, "Your eyes are red, Mac."

Mac felt his cheeks burn in overwhelming humiliation, even though Danny was being sincere. "It's nothing…" Danny gave him a look, searching into Mac's face intently. Mac felt like crying again, but he held it in. "I… I just couldn't… I couldn't hold back anymore. This… These last few days have been rough for me too, you know…"

Danny tensed, leaving Mac to wonder if he pissed him off. But Danny gently reached up to touch Mac's face with his clean hand. He bit his lip and swallowed before he spoke. "I had no idea… I'm really sorry to worry you so much, Mac."

Mac smiled and repeated his earlier scolding. "What the hell do you have to be sorry about? Remember? I'm always going to be worrying about you, Danny."

For that brief moment, Mac was left to wonder if he meant it. If he meant that he was actually in love with Danny. If he meant that he was ready to move on and start afresh by picking up the pieces of a shattered Daniel Messer.

But he concluded to himself that there was no way to know, at least not yet, as they cleaned themselves up and got ready to go back to the hospital, barely speaking about what just happened. But their body language was significantly different, as Danny continually placed a hand somewhere upon Mac's body, or as Mac would run his fingertips across Danny's shoulders.

As they prepared to head back into the world, Mac couldn't help but wonder if this was just a needed catharsis on Danny's part and that he was an overly excitable and easily dispensable pawn. He feared this was going to end as soon as they got back to Louie, so he took his time to put on his coat.

But when Danny helped him with the process, sliding his hands across Mac's arm as he came around to face Mac and plant one last kiss on Mac's lips, Mac got the feeling this was also part of his own catharsis.

But when Danny reached upwards with both hands to pull Mac deeper into the kiss, Mac got the feeling this was quite possibly much, much more.

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A/N 43 pages in Word later lol! Yay! You made it! Sooo what did you think? Oh yeah, I am putting a link up to my journal because I did a scene-by-scene outfit assessment for Danny and Mac to be a reference for the fic. Yeah, that'll be in my profile from now on. So thank you for your time! I really appreciate it!