A/N: So I was going to work on the request I got for this one, but then I watched Cold Reveal (3x22) again and I had to write something. The ending makes me want to cry...Well, then this started going in all different directions and this is how it ended up. It's probably confusing. Basically, Stella and Mac both had really crappy days and it takes some time for them to realize the other person may have had one too. Little bit of Peyton/Mac, because they're dating during this season, and I like continuity and think they were a cute couple. However, there's room to interpret it however you want. That's a bone for the "SMacked" people out there.

"Hey, Mac."

"Detective Taylor!"

"You okay? ...Mac."

He flinched at the hand on his shoulder. It immediately withdrew in response. "Sorry." The owner of the hand instead pulled up a chair and Don Flack sat in front of him, cautiously studying him. "I was heading out when I heard. You okay?"

"I'll never find her."

Mac gave a single nod as he stared at his hands. They had only just stopped shaking. His fingers continued discretely fidgeting.

"Scagnetti says you're not pressin' charges." Don said softly as he leaned his elbows on his knees.

"Because of you, I will never find her."

"No." Mac replied, unconsciously shifting away from his friend.

Don had noticed. He sat back, running a hand over his mouth. "Well, that may count for something, Mac, but the man was waving around a gun on a crowded street."

"He knew where she was."

Mac finally lifted his eyes to meet Don's. "He just wants to know where his daughter is."

"And I feel for the guy, I do, but the fact is he was planning to kill you."

"But you killed him, and I'll never find my daughter."

Mac looked away again. "I'm not pressing charges."

Don threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay then. John says you're free to go. You want a ride?"

Mac shook his head as he got to his feet. His weak knees barely held his weight. "I need to walk."

Don hesitated. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"How many more desperate fathers you think I'm gonna run into because they blame me for Dobson?"

"Mac, that's not what I-." But Mac was already gone, down the front steps of the precinct and out into the night.

Mac swallowed, but his heart kept hammering in his throat. "There are innocent people on the street. Ju-." His voice caught as he watched the man's hand twitch on the trigger. "Just hand me the gun and we can talk about whatever you wa-."

"Don't move!"

Mac jumped back, the words like a physical blow to chest, leaving him breathless. His body didn't even feel like his own as the adrenaline coursed through his system, making his limbs feel like lead and Jell-O at the same time.

"L-Lilly." The man sobbed, his thumb shifting on the grip. "She looked just like those other girls that Clay Dobson killed."

"You believe he took her too." He forced himself to say in a controlled tone. The man was unstable. Mac's appearance of calmness would hopefully help to level him out.

"Now that he's dead, I'll never get her back. Because only he knows- only he knows where he buried her." The tears came freely now. His shoulders shook with the sobs, but his gun remained firmly aimed at Mac. "You- you took that from me. I'll never find my Lilly." The gun lowered, the father's grief too much to even hold himself up anymore. "I will never be able to say goodbye." Metal clattered against the sidewalk as the man sunk to his knees.
"My baby's dead!... Oh, Lilly."

Mac carefully stepped forward to secure the weapon as the man's wails echoed across the now deserted sidewalk.

He wasn't prepared as the man suddenly leapt to his feet and shoved Mac to the ground. The man stood over him, gun in hand, pointed straight at his heart. "I'm taking you with me."

BANG!

Mac felt himself hit the floor as his eyes snapped open, met with nothing but blackness. He shakily pushed himself up to his hands and knees, his chest heaving in an attempt to feed his racing heart. His arms gave out and he fell sideways, his shoulder crashing into something hard, preventing him from hitting the floor again.

Mac drew his knees into his chest as he leaned into the object. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to get control of his breathing, but his chest felt tight, restricting the amount of oxygen getting to his lungs. Mac gripped his hair with both hands, trying to keep his hold on reality as the dream repeated itself in his mind. Not a dream… he realized. Except for the last moments, including Clay Dobson's final words, that's exactly what had happened mere hours ago.

A sudden beam of light shone from beyond his eyelids and Mac immediately scrambled to his feet, hand going straight to his hip as he spotted someone standing in his now open door. He could only make out a silhouette as light from the hallway cast the person into shadow.

"Mac?" A female voice called carefully. Stella.

Mac snapped his gun back into place with a shaking hand as his heart resumed its pounding. "Stella…" He replied breathlessly. "What…are you…?"

Instead of answering, she flipped on the overhead light, forcing Mac to shut his eyes and duck his head. "I heard something fall in here. I thought you had left. What were you doing?" She added, noting his uncharacteristically disheveled appearance.

"I fell asleep," Mac answered, slowing opening his eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness, "On the couch." He winced as a breath hitched in his throat.

"Sleeping? Or running a marathon?" She asked. Great, Stella was in a bad mood. He wasn't in the mood either.

He only had the energy to shoot her a look. "What are you doing here?" He asked again.

She folded her arms across her chest, returning the same look. "I kind of had a long day." She explained in a clipped tone. At his look of complete confusion, she went on. "Valens…"

Mac nodded. He'd completely forgotten. He made his way over to the couch where he sat heavily, finally feeling like his heart was returning to a normal rhythm. "How'd that go?"

"Not great, but it's over." Usually, he would have heard the undertone of pain there. Only he wasn't paying attention.

"Good." Mac nodded again before dropping his head into his hands, forcing himself to take deep breaths. He felt the couch move as Stella sat beside him.

"What's going on?" She asked suddenly.

"What?" Mac asked, turning his head to look at her.

"Look, Mac, I know the case and this hearing have gotten to you, but the way you've been acting lately…"

Mac shook his head. "Stella, not now."

"Like that." She snapped. "Yelling at Adam was one thing, going after Dobson alone something entirely different. I know you've got a lot on your plate, but you haven't even asked about-." She was cut off by the sound of her phone ringing, which Mac was grateful for. He'd heard and given himself the same scolding enough already. Getting it from a grieving father with a gun was about all the convincing he needed that he'd screwed up. Coming from Stella, sadly enough, it didn't mean much at the moment. "Bonasera." She answered, her tone conveying how much she appreciated being called this early in the morning. "Peyton?... Yeah, he's right here." Stella held out her phone. "You don't even call your girlfriend anymore?"

He didn't bother responding, just took the phone from her and rested his head in his other hand. "Hey."

"Mac! Thank heavens. Are you okay?" The familiar accented voice, although sounding slightly panicked, was a much more welcome tone than the accusatory one coming from the woman next to him.

"Yeah, why?"

"Don called me, Mac." Peyton explained gently. "He told me what happened."

Mac sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course Flack had… "I'm fine, Peyton."

"Don't," she warned with only a slight edge to her voice. Mac bit his lip. Peyton had made a deal with him only a short month ago that severely restricted his use of the word 'fine', as it meant next to nothing when he used it except to brush her off. He'd promised himself and her not to do that. He'd been with her for almost a year and yet he still sometimes found it hard to open up to her. He loved her. She was the best thing to happen to him in years, but years of keeping himself closed off to others was hard to shake. He was trying. She knew it. Thankfully, that was all she needed.

"Reflex." He offered as his explanation, giving a small smile though she couldn't see it.

Peyton could still hear it in his voice. Her tone was much softer as she continued. "The truth, now. Are you okay?"

Mac squeezed his eyes shut, cursing the images that replayed across his closed eyelids. He took a minute to answer, feeling his heart start to pound again. "No." He finally said, barely managing to keep his voice under control.

"I'm coming to get you. You're at the lab?"

"Yeah… thank you."

"Of course, Mac. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Mac handed the phone back to Stella as he pressed his fingers into his eyes, trying to rid them of the sudden unwelcome wetness gathered there.

Stella was silent for a minute. "Are you okay?"

He cleared his throat and turned away from her. "Yeah."

"Did something happen?" Stella asked, the edge slowing leaving her voice.

Mac cast a sideways glance in her direction and then sat back, sinking into the couch. "Peyton's gonna come pick me up."

"What happened, Mac?" Stella demanded, her tone now laced with concern.

He considered not answering. Not only did he not wish to repeat the story as the memory ran fresh through his mind again, Stella clearly had other things on her mind. He suddenly felt a sharp pang of guilt on top of the near constant ache in his chest, present ever since that father had found him on the street. He knew the cold case investigation had been hard on Stella- brought back memories of her tough childhood. To deal with that so close to her HIV scare… and here he was, focused on his own problems.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask about your results."

Stella's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What-?"

"That's what you were about to say, before the phone rang. I didn't ask you."

"Mac," Stella sighed, shaking her head, "It doesn't matter anym-."

"It does." He interrupted quietly. "I asked Adam. He told me. I meant to go to you after, but that's when we got the lead on Dobson…" Mac trailed off, not wanting those recently shelved memories on top of the ones currently haunting him.

"Why did you go to Adam first?"

Mac looked at his hands again. They weren't shaking at the moment, but his thumb and forefinger fidgeted, constantly rubbing together. "You know I'm not good at the comfort thing. I'm bad at giving it and bad at taking it. I just needed to know what to prepare for." He managed not to react as she placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression a mix of gratitude and sympathy.

It had taken Stella a while to realize that about Mac. He had always been guarded about his emotions, but he was usually willing to offer comfort to those around him, however uncomfortable it made him in the process. His was just a different kind of comfort. Sometimes it was the blatant hard truth, which while not exactly what grieving people wanted to hear, were the facts of the situation and that eventually brought an odd sort of closure. Other times, he just acted as a sounding board who might give a hug at the end. Most of the time, it was entirely unpredictable and sometimes not even recognizable. It had taken a while to get used to it, but she had begun to appreciate it for what it was. It was why she didn't mind that after shooting Frankie, Mac had sacrificed being with her to process the crime scene. It was his way to bring that closure to her, and in essence would be about the same as a hug and a shoulder to cry on from anybody else.

Hearing that he had gone to Adam was something different coming from Mac. The fact that he had wanted to be able to offer some real traditional comfort to her meant more than anything else.

Mac Taylor accepting comfort or help was another story. Being with Peyton had opened Mac up to a world of emotional turmoil he wasn't comfortable being a part of at first, but ever so slowly, he had learned to live in it. He could actually reciprocate emotion with another human being and enjoy it. It had helped him be more open in general, but not enough.

It had always been hit and miss when Stella tried to help. The lighter stuff was easy, and Mac would even seek her out for help. However, problems with a deeper emotional aspect were not so cut and dry. He never lied to her, but he also never told the whole truth. He could spit back the police report of what had happened word for calculated, deliberate word, but try and ask him how it had affected him and she could either get absolutely nowhere or some semblance of the actual truth would come out. He always listened to her advice, sometimes even took it to heart, but she could never tell which it would be. All she could do was try.

"What happened, Mac?" She asked again, her voice soft.

Stella was completely shocked when he only hesitated for a moment before telling her everything. She listened quietly. Her hand remained on his shoulder, gently squeezing it whenever he faltered. As he finished, she noticed some of the tension in his muscles had eased.

"Mac…" Stella whispered, her forehead knit in concern as the guilt nearly ate her alive. "I'm so sorry. If I had known-."

He shook his head, and Stella noticed the newly resumed tremors in his hands. "No, you were right before, and I'm sorry."

Stella sighed. That wasn't exactly the point she was trying to get across. "You know it's not your fault. You didn't kill Dobson. That girl's life is not on you. None of them are."

"And yet it still doesn't make me feel any better about it." He balled his hands into fists, effectively halting the shaking.

That's when it finally hit her. It had been screaming at her the whole time, she just hadn't been paying attention, too occupied with her own problems. Mac didn't need advice, or anything else. He just needed someone to be there. Peyton obviously knew that. Stella had been too angry at him to realize it until now. Now, she knew just what to say.

"You're gonna be okay, Mac." It was a simple statement, but a powerful one. Throughout the years, it had been used often between them, and still, when all else failed, it worked. It acknowledged their current state- that yes, it hurts, it may not be fair, but eventually, things work out. And they always did.

Mac lifted his eyes to meet his friend's, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Thanks."

Stella only smiled in return. At that moment, the office door swung open, permitting Peyton to rush inside. She was dressed in sweats and what must have been one of Mac's jackets. She had clearly been asleep before coming here. Mac rose to his feet and was immediately wrapped in her arms.

It was one definitely one of the cruelly unfair hugs that seemed to bid every emotion rise to the surface despite your best efforts. One of those hugs that anyone watching could tell probably involved tears or a very concerted effort to hold back tears because of the way the participants held each other longer and tighter than any normal hug would permit. Stella suddenly felt like she was intruding. Her part was over. She stood up from the couch.

Peyton turned her head to see Stella leaving and called after her. "Thank you, Stella."

She gave a simple nod as she left. She wasn't halfway back to her office when a hand on her arm stopped her. It was Mac. He looked momentarily at a loss for words. "Hey… you're gonna be okay, too."

Stella smiled. "I know."

They shared a brief hug before Mac pulled away. "Go home and get some sleep, please." He said, a spark of his usual self shining through as he gave her a stern look.

"Yes, Sir." She grinned. "Goodnight."

"Night." He smiled in return.

Stella watched Mac meet Peyton at the end of the hall. Their arms immediately went around each other again before they made their way to the elevator. Yes, she thought with a sad smile, they would be okay… eventually, they would all be okay.

A/N: Stella might be a little jealous that she doesn't have a man... Maybe that's why she was so mean to me throughout this entire fic. Anyways, please leave a review and you can even offer suggestions. I'm looking for a lighter, happier tag to write if you have an idea.