Columbus Circle

By Dimgwrthien

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates.

The bed felt too warm for Mac to want to move, but he sat up, supporting himself on his elbows. He sighed and glanced around the darkened room. The blinds shut out the afternoon sun. It was the first time he had gotten to go home since before the bombing, and he couldn't bring himself to feel happy about it. Don was still in the hospital, unconscious, and he couldn't be there.

His neck hurt like hell, though. Mac started to get out of the bed to find anything to stop it when a hand touched him on the arm. He froze, his mind racing to understand who it was. He turned to see Stella there, glancing at him and blinking. "Mac?" she whispered. "You alright?"

Mac hadn't had a woman near his bed for years, so it took him a moment to answer her. "Yeah, I'm fine." He waited for her to move her hand, but she didn't. It sat there on his arm, holding him in place slightly. "I can't stand this bandage any more. I'm just going to change it."

Stella nodded sleepily, putting her head back against the pillow.

"Stella?" Mac whispered?"

"Did you need help?" she asked, opening her eyes again.

"I don't think so." Mac waited a second. "Could you take your arm off?"

Stella slowly removed her arm, closing her eyes again. "Sorry," she whispered into the pillow as she tried to sleep again.

Mac left the room into the bathroom. Peeling off the bandage, he looked closely in the mirror. It seemed to be healing well enough, considering the size of the cut earlier. Several stitches closed it well enough, though he didn't want to imagine when they came out - putting them in had been rough enough, even with the shots.

He turned on the faucet and put a washcloth under it, letting it run hot before taking it out. The warmth of the cloth against the searing pain made him feel a little better, and he kept it there as he ran his hands over, splashing water in his face.

After a few minutes, Mac removed the washcloth, feeling confident that the pain would die down again. He pulled out one of the gauze tapes from a first aid kit under the sink and pressed it against his neck, taping it in place.

When he returned to the bedroom, Stella was sitting up, elbows against her knees, staring down at the blanket.

"Get some sleep," Mac told her in a hushed voice. He glanced up at the blinds, the light peering through them starting to burn at his eyes. "We haven't been off shift in a while. Don's not getting better from you staying up."

Stella glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be talking if I were you. You haven't slept any more than me so far."

Mac didn't say anything, because the only thing he could say was admitting defeat. "Are you going to be able to sleep?"

"Are you?" Stella asked him. Mac shook his head, so Stella got out of bed. "Neither am I. I just want to get back to the hospital now."

"Danny'll hunt us down for that and bring us back here." Mac glanced at his watch - two in the afternoon. They had only been there for three hours. Twenty-seven hours awake with the bomb and its effects. No wonder Mac felt horrible.

"Let's head outside," Stella offered, looking closely at Mac. "Do us some good. Maybe we can sleep then." She turned to grab up her clothes, glancing up at Mac. "Do you want me to take the bathroom?"

He shrugged. "Anywhere you're fine, Stella."

She started to peel off the oversized shirt as quickly as she could, putting on her own. She already wore her own pants, so only her socks were left. Mac looked at the shirt she had taken off, noticing that it was one of his own.

"Sorry," she told him when she followed his gaze. "I took one of yours when you were sleeping because I didn't feel right in this one." She moved her shoulders around in the ribbed purple shirt and jacket.

"It's alright." Mac glanced from near the bed through the bathroom door and into the mirror. His reflection was a bit small, but he could see that he was decent-enough to walk outside for a minute. He turned back to Stella, who was putting her shoes on. Mac sat on the edge of the bed to tie his.

"I hate having to be stuck over here," Stella sighed. "Dammit - I know that Don doesn't need us now, but I'd prefer to see updates rather than hear them over the phone."

"Danny's his best friend," Mac answered. "I have a feeling he can take better care of Don than anyone else."

Stella didn't answer, but stood up and walked to the door. Mac followed in silence. She didn't seem to want to meet her eyes.

I know exactly that you mean, Stella - no one wants to leave anyone in that situation. Don't you think I felt the same having to investigate your crime scene while you were in the hospital?

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Mac locked his door as they left, walking to the elevator. It clanked down slowly, letting them onto the ground floor. Mac led the way outside.

Ironically, the birds at in the trees, chirping. Mac looked around at the blue sky, almost surprised that the bomb couldn't have some sort of effect on the city.

"Can we go somewhere?" Stella asked, glancing at Mac. "Just - anywhere."

"Not the hospital," Mac told her, and she looked a bit put-out. "But I think I know somewhere you're going to enjoy for a little."

He waved the taxi, telling the driver where to go before letting Stella into the backseat. Mac joined her and watched the scenery pass by. Neither said a single word.

"Jesus, Mac." Stella glanced out the window as they neared the area. "Don't tell me you're taking me to a water park!"

Mac smiled and paid the driver as they got out. "It's not a water park, Stella. It's Columbus Circle. They're completely different things."

Stella stood on the curb, staring at the children running around in the smaller fountains surrounding the larger one. Not many people were out, and those who were stayed a bit away from the statue. Mac put an arm to Stella's shoulder to guide her forward onto a bench. "Is this distracting enough?"

Stella continued to watch the screaming kids, not bothering to look at Mac. "Yes. Yes, I think this is. Why the hell are we here?"

Mac pointed at one of the small fountains. "Just watch somewhere long enough, and maybe you can forgot the hospital."

They watched a small girl, most likely around three or four, splash in the water. She wore pink pants and a green shirt. Her shoes made squishing sounds whenever she jumped. An older man, looking lost and nervous, finally picked her out of the crowd and ran forward, grabbing her. He feel onto his knees, hugging her, trying to pry off her shoes at the same time. The little girl splashed a hand down to wet the man's face, then laughed.

"This is what Mac Taylor does for fun," Stella muttered, eyes never leaving the two. "Sits around and watches parents lose their kids and find them."

Mac smiled. "The only person who has to think is the parent. I'm not the parent. I don't have to think." He looked at the side of Stella's face, which was partly obstructed with her curls. From what he could see, she had a strange look on her face. Her eyes looked a bit too fixed, and her mouth traveled to one side of her face. "Have you stopped thinking?"

She remained silent for just a moment, then glanced at Mac. "No. I think I've only just started."