Come Home by AndromedaMarine

Ground Zero

Despite Stella's protests that he sleep in, he was gone when she woke. The blanket and pillow she'd lent to him were gone from the couch, the coffee table was neat and tidy, and when she reached the kitchen there was a note in front of the fresh pot of coffee. She poured a cup, eying the piece of paper.

Stella, thanks for forcing me to sleep. I really did need it. I didn't want to wake you up and I knew I had to get out of the confines of a building, so I hope you don't get mad at me for leaving early. I trust you, Stel. So I think I should let you know that I'm going someplace I can remember...and forget. For now I just need to be alone... But if you read this and find that you're still worrying, you know where to find me. I'm still lost in the debris. – Mac.

Stella downed the coffee and threw some breakfast onto the table. She wolfed it down, knowing that she was both rational and irrational about Mac. She was on the streets of New York barely fifteen minutes after getting out of the shower. She knew exactly where to go. Before she'd gone she'd glanced at the calendar and saw, with a pang, that it was September eleventh, two years to the day of the tragedy that tore Mac's life apart.

Ground Zero.

It was still only eight thirty, but as she neared the gates leading into the site she saw a single man in a black coat leaning his head to the bars, unmoving. She was as quiet as she was in the locker room, but left her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat. She studied his figure, how his fingers curled around the hard steel keeping true civilization from entering the crumbled remains of the Twin Towers. His cheeks were void of tears, but she knew that he was crying inside, trying and looking for some way to let go of Claire's memory.

She knew he felt lost and alone.

He let out a deep sigh, and his hands tightened around the bars. His eyes flickered open and Mac looked up from the ground, sweeping the debris from side to side with his gaze. Two years. Two years to the day and in just hours there would be a massive crowd of mourning citizens, coming to hear the names of those never found and those who'd died in the attack.

Stella knew the attack hadn't just changed America. It had changed everything about Mac Taylor.

Ground Zero.

Stella turned to face the city. Low fog had blanketed the city and she was just now feeling the effects of the cold. Her back tingled and she turned around. Mac was standing a few feet from her, his hands shoved into his coat. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked tentatively. "I understand if you want to be left alone – it's just you keep worrying me..."

His face relaxed and his eyes softened. "Someday I'll let go. But for now...for now I need an anchor, so I don't lose myself all over again." He strode over and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I can't thank you enough for watching out for me." He made to say something else but stopped himself, lurching a little.

Stella reached up to steady him. Mac's hand found her wrist and encased it, twining his fingers into hers.

"Let's...let's walk." He kept his grip on her hand, and they absently turned in the general direction of Central Park, just walking in the comfort of silence.