"If you really loved my mother, you would help me."

Standing at the crime scene, Mac Taylor was certain that those words woould haunt him for the rest of his life. More than the sight of Stella laying unconscious on the floor of her apartment. More, even, than the last words he had shared with Claire.

The body was wrapped in a blue and yellow tarp, dumped only two blocks from the crime lab. Mac wanted to look somewhere else, to not see Reed's face staring up at him, silently accusing him. But he couldn't tear his eyes away; he felt as though he had to look, as though it was the punishment he deserved for his hand in this.

He'd never realized before just how much Reed resembled his mother. Their eyes were the same color, piercing through him whenever he was faced with them. Their lips, the set of the jaw...Mac felt as though he were losing Claire all over again.

A light touch on his shoulders, and Stella was by his side.

"We found his PDA," she said quietly.

He didn't think it was possible, but he somehow found his voice. "Any clue as to where the taxi picked him up?"

She nodded, and Mac could feel her hesitation. "He got a text, earlier in the day...someone offering him information on the Taxi Cab Killer. It could have been a trap, to lure him there..."

"And I turned him away. He asked for information, and I refused to give him anything."

"He wasn't asking as family, Mac. He was asking as a journalist. And you have a duty -"

"I had a duty to him, too. I failed him, Stella. I failed his mother."

"You could have given him everything we had on the case, Mac, and he still would have gone."

"You don't know that."

Stella took a deep breath, turning to face him. "Maybe you should excuse yourself from the case, Mac."

He shook his head firmly. "No."

"Mac -"

"No. This is my case, Stella. I'm not passing it over to anyone else." He nodded, almost like he was reassuring himself, finally lifting his eyes to Stella. "Release the body to the M.E. I'll meet you back at the lab for the autopsy."

Turning, Mac started to walk away, his shoulders stiff with the weight of everything that was to come. After a few steps, though, he turned back, looking at Stella over his shoulder.

"I'll need you, though," he told her, his voice low enough so that only she could hear. "I'll need you to keep me from crossing the line."

Stella nodded, wishing she had something else to give him. "Always."