A/N: Thank you so so much for all the encouraging reviews! I was a little tough on myself on the last one. So...I won't go into detail about how this chapter fought me and I'm not entirely happy with it, BUT I think it's okay. We'll see.

Oh and a reminder- I've hinted that this is season 2, but I'm telling you- it's mid-season 2...just because I felt like it.

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Mac could feel Don staring at him again as they sat at another uncomfortably long stop light. He sighed and turned his head, catching Don's eyes before the younger detective could look away. "What?"

Don shook his head slightly as he shrugged. "Nothin'." He answered nonchalantly. His gaze shifted back to the road as the light finally turned green and they started creeping forward again through the mid-day traffic.

Despite the unnaturally warm fall weather outside, the atmosphere in the car had been icy at best this morning. It didn't help that the park was a good 90 minute drive away. If it had been a test between who would break first, Mac could have easily won, but he wasn't up for playing games. Whoever was sending texts clearly thought he was already involved in one. Two would be pushing it. Besides, they had a killer to catch, and Don had been overly interested in Mac's personal life the last few weeks. He wanted to get it out of the way before it got in the way.

"Don," Mac said, his stern expectant eyes still focused on Flack, letting him know he wasn't buying his brush off excuse.

Flack blew out a short breath before risking a brief glance away from the road to meet Mac's gaze again. "Alright fine, but only if you're honest with me this time." Mac just raised an eyebrow in response, which Flack knew to take as an invitation to go on, "Something's off, Mac."

"I told you the bullets match, Don. It's the same guy."

"I'm not talking about the case."

Mac nodded. He knew he wasn't. "Okay then, what?" Even when Mac had his suspicions, he found it best to let the other party talk it out as far as they could on their own before he joined in. It usually helped get things moving much more quickly if he could get a handle on their mood and stance on the issue and figure out the best way to approach the situation.

Claire had hated that about him… Mac almost smiled as he remembered. She had such a fiery and passionate soul, relentless in her pursuit to get what she wanted. Claire had suggested Mac's personality wasn't so different under the surface, which he guessed was true to a point. Contained was the word she used, not reserved. Reserved would have meant he was holding back on purpose, strategically storing away bits of himself to bring out later if he felt like it. Contained suggested everything was right under the surface. All it took was the right pressure and everything would explode. She spent much of her time early in their relationship trying to find the right trigger.

She liked to argue. Mac didn't. She thought it forced an honestly from them that wouldn't emerge otherwise. All she had wanted was for him to fight back, to show the emotions he kept so closely guarded, even from her at times. "Will you ever, just once, speak without thinking? Say what you're really feeling instead of planning it out?" It was a completely foreign and totally illogical concept to him at the time. It went against his training, his upbringing, and reason itself. He'd told her so, and ironically started their first big fight. Even after working it out with her, he still didn't grasp what she meant.

Then, over one year later, he finally did.

He was a rookie on the force then. A serial killer had been ruthlessly slaughtering entire families for weeks. He'd been on the scene of a lot of them. Claire knew about the case from the news, but he wouldn't talk about it. He thought he was doing the right thing- keep her happy, avoid confrontation… He didn't realize how much it actually hurt her that he was suffering and didn't say anything.

Everything came to a head when he came home one night to Claire who was upset about something mundane he couldn't remember. He'd promised rather half-heartedly to rectify whatever she was mad at him for and tried to brush past her when she stopped him, demanding something better than that. He'd shouted back at her for the first time he could remember, and he didn't stop until he dissolved right there on the spot, collapsing in the hallway of their tiny apartment, her arms secured tightly around his shoulders as every emotion he'd kept bottled up inside for over a month came spilling out of him at once.

Mac had learned the hard way the containment he practiced at work that helped to keep him alive and catch criminals wasn't exactly the best approach to his personal life. Letting everything out once in a while kept that bottle from exploding under built up pressure. Claire was one of the few people who had ever seen him completely let go. She helped him become vulnerable, and he was her rock. They were perfect together.

Then she was gone, and he'd reverted back to the tightly contained time bomb that was Mac Taylor. Thank heavens for Stella or he would still be that empty shell who felt nothing but grief. She had sort of taken on the role of being the one who got him to open up, and she was the only one he ever went to. It still took prodding and sometimes anger on her part, even when he wanted to talk, but eventually he would, and she was always there.

Don was a close friend, one he'd been through a lot with. Mac trusted him with his life, but there had always been that separation between his work and personal life that Don, out of respect for Mac, never crossed, even as much as Mac pressed Don to come to him with his problems. If the lines were already crossed, however, the young detective was duty bound to investigate.

Flack's hands tightened on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white for a brief moment. "I'm talking about you." Mac sat back in his seat and looked silently at the homicide detective. Don glanced at him and went on, "I mean, you've been off for weeks, and I get why, but I don't know if it's gone too far or if there's something else, now. I need the truth from you."

Mac finally spoke in that calm, controlled way that had driven Claire crazy. "Have I been screwing up cases, Don?"

"I can't draw the line there anymore, Mac." Don snapped. "Not after finding you at that bar."

The first real emotion crossed Mac's face as shame and embarrassment filled him. "I'm sorry about that."

"I don't want you to be sorry, Mac." Don said earnestly. "Hell, I'd just like to be invited next time you're set on getting hammered."

Mac laughed despite himself.

"I mean it." Don said, and though he was smiling, Mac knew he was serious, and not about getting drunk. What he really meant was, next time you're feeling like that, you can call me, and I'll be there.

"Yeah, alright."

"You better." Flack's phone starting ringing and he immediately answered. "Flack…yeah, got it. Thanks." He snapped his phone shut. "That was the precinct. Woman came by and reported her 26-year-old daughter missing after she went for a walk in Jackson Park last night and didn't come home. She's blonde and has a 5 month old son."

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"Hey, Stel, I need a favor."

"I barely walk in the door and you're already asking favors?" Stella teased as she stepped out of the elevators and into the lab. She spotted Mac's empty office. "Where are you?"

"Back at the park where we found the first vic. Could turn out to be the primary scene for our second."

Stella had heard about the second body on her way in to work. Mac's potentially cut and dry case was now anything but. With her case closed and handed off, she fully expected to be pulled onto this. "Alright, what do you need?"

"If Lindsay is still there, send her home. Our second vic may have just showed up in missing persons. Take Hawkes with you to question her mother and then send him home. They've been there all night."

Stella continued down the hallways, looking out for the two newest CSIs. "And what about you?" She asked casually.

She could just imagine the look on his face in the few seconds of silence that followed. He wouldn't roll his eyes, but it would be close. "You saw me go home, Stel."

"And you slept?"

"Yes. Plenty. You got everything covered there?"

Stella grinned at his obvious change of subject and the hint of impatience covered by fake amusement. "Yes. I see Sheldon and Lindsay now. I'll call you after we talk to the mother."

"Thanks." He said sincerely.

"No problem. Good luck."

Stella found Lindsay leaning over Hawkes' shoulder to look at the computer screen they were hovering around. "You guys find something?" She asked, causing the both of them to look up, too tired to show surprise.

"Finally might have an ID on the second vic." Hawkes said, fighting back a yawn as he pointed to the screen.

"Yeah, Mac just called. He wants you and me to check it out. Lindsay, you're off."

"Off?" She repeated. While both Lindsay and Hawkes looked exhausted, there was something else in the lab's recent addition from Montana that Stella had seen only a few times before, and only when the victims were young females. While she did her best to look professional, it seemed Lindsay took these cases personally. Stella always assumed it was because of their proximity in age. She remembered a case where she had received several comments that the victim looked eerily similar to her. It sure made Stella question her mortality when seeing the corpse for the first time and realizing how easily it could be her one day. But then Stella remembered a recent case where Lindsay had flat out refused to talk to the mother of a murdered girl. "I don't do mothers," she had said.

That's when it dawned on her that Mac had a reason for sending Lindsay home first and not Hawkes. Usually being confronted with two women would be less intimidating and more comforting for the parent when revealing her daughter was possibly the victim of a homicide. Clearly Mac was looking out, not only for the mother, but for Lindsay as well by sending Stella and Hawkes instead.

"Yes, off. Go home, sleep. Don't come back until we call you. Got it?" Stella said with a smile. She didn't miss Sheldon's "dare to be hopeful" look, though he would never actually ask if he could leave as well. "You go home after the interview." She told him, to which he couldn't help but look relieved as he nodded. "Get your jacket. Storm's coming in. I'll meet you by the elevator in five."

Hawkes leapt up and went to prepare while Lindsay was slower to leave.

"Hey, you okay?" Stella asked her.

"Yep." Lindsay said with a tight smile and red eyes. "Just tired."

"You sure?" Stella pressed as it was clear the new CSI was close to tears though she did a valiant job of hiding it.

Lindsay nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak at first. Finally she gave a shuddering sigh. "You know when you're just past exhausted and you just want to curl up and bawl for no reason? I'm there." She explained in a shaky voice as she quickly wiped away a few tears. "Guess I should get used to it, huh?" Lindsay added with a humorless laugh.

Stella gave her a reassuring smile, she didn't mention that she suspected compounding reasons for Lindsay's fragile emotional state. "Hey, it takes time. And if it's any consolation, I still feel like that some days. You good to get home on your own?"

Lindsay nodded. "I'm fine."

"Well, if you need a few minutes, use the couch in the office until you're ready to go. Turn off the lights, close the blinds, don't let anybody bug you, okay?"

"Thank you." Lindsay said, looking both embarrassed and grateful. Stella gave her arm a comforting squeeze on her way out the door.

Stella admired how hard the Montanan always worked. She didn't have anything to prove to them anymore, but you would never catch her slacking. She had pulled a double just the day before and now she already pulling another one. It was enough to drive most people to hysterics. Stella remembered when she herself was new to the lab. The hours and pace were relentless. She had considered quitting more than once, but then she had gotten a good night's sleep and was as gung ho as ever to get back into work. It was Mac who still had to constantly remind her that her health and sanity were more important than her sticking on a case when someone else could take her spot. Of course Mac would never admit to that himself…

Stella passed the AV lab and spotted Adam typing away and simultaneously singing some unknown song, headphones buried in his ears. It took a tap on the shoulder for Adam to realize she was there. He jumped and nearly spilled out of his chair in his haste to rip the ear buds out. "Hey! Stella! Hi!"

She grinned. "Hello to you, too. I just wanted to know if that security footage from the bodega homicide yesterday came up with anything else."

"Ah, not that I found. It looks pretty straight forward. No accomplices or anything else out of the ordinary…you know aside from the kid robbing the place and killing people…" Adam had started to go off on some tangent at this point, but Stella had stopped listening.

"Adam, why is my phone number on your computer here?" She asked, cutting him off and causing the tech to go instantly green in the face.

"Um…uh…I…that's…it's-…oh…crap." He finished, looking fearfully up at the woman.

"Are you monitoring my phone?" She asked, her voice gaining a distinct edge that caused Adam to shrink even more.

"No! No, I swear. It has nothing to do with you. It's actually Mac's phone I'm watching- because he asked me to." Adam quickly added at Stella's look.

Her expression instantly morphed from confusion to concern. "Why did he ask you to track his phone?" She asked calmly, though it was clear her real emotions were lying just under the surface.

"I don't think- Well, it's not related to a case and I don't know if Mac wants me to tell…it's kind of supposed to be secret." Stella stared him down, but Adam actually held his ground. "You'll have to ask Mac, Stel."

She instantly softened. It wasn't Adam's fault. It was Mac's, and he would definitely be hearing from her. The only reason Mac would want his phone monitored would be to trace incoming calls. The only reason he would want that was if someone was calling him that he wanted tracked… probably because he was dangerous or had information… "I'm sorry, Adam. I'll ask him."

Adam looked relieved as his shoulders sagged. "Otherwise I'd tell you-."

"I know, don't worry about it." She smiled. "I'll be back in an hour or so." She spotted Sheldon in the hallway and went to meet him. "Ready?"

"How ready can you be to tell a parent their child is dead?" He asked with a frown.

"Not ready enough." She sighed.

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Don was left to coordinate the search with the recently arrived k-9 unit and park police while Mac set off by himself to do what he could alone in the meantime. A storm was blowing in quickly and their chances at finding an in-tact crime scene were falling with every passing minute.

Mac zipped his jacket up to his chin as a strong wind whipped at his collar. Leaves swirled past him and several slapped him in the face as they were ripped from the trees. Mac shoved his hands into his pockets and forged on.

The park was easily 50 acres- a large area to be sure, but only a fraction of the size of Central Park, which had been home to many a missing crime scene before. It was the secluded nature of this park that was a problem. It neighbored a State Park, which meant the surrounding population was largely rural with little foot traffic that offered even fewer witnesses. The trails were mostly dirt or asphalt. Luckily Mac was able to narrow down the search area by the lack of sand and presence of a rubber polymer used to seal cracks in asphalt in the trace on the second vic's shoes.

Mac was in the center of what he had decided was the best area to search, surrounded by towering trees which seemed to go on forever around him. The sky was growing darker, making Mac's ever present flashlight more useful than usual. He scanned the pathway for any signs of blood. The vic hadn't had any defensive wounds, but it was possible the killer could have lured her off the trail before shooting her. He decided to leave off-trail search to the k-9 unit as there wasn't any way he would be able to spot a nearly 20-hour-old blood stain with the wind stirring up the ground cover so much.

Mac was so intent on searching the trail he almost didn't feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. It was probably Stella. Hopefully the mother could narrow down the search area even more by pinpointing where her daughter would walk. He fished the phone out and stopped dead in his tracks. It wasn't Stella, and it wasn't a phone call.

Getting warmer…

Mac spun around, his eyes quickly scanning his surroundings. The phone buzzed in his hand again.

Hurry up. Time's running out.

Mac's heart was pounding painfully in his chest now. He started to reach for his radio to call Flack when a sudden crack! of a stick caused him to turn again, trying to pin point the source. The rushing wind made it hard to isolate the sounds around him. Blowing leaves and shuffling steps sounded frustratingly similar. His hand diverted on his course to his radio and instead unsnapped the safety on his holster.

Then he heard it. Distinct crunching of leaves stood out against the constant roar of the wind.

"NYPD! Who's there?" Mac called, stepping toward where he thought the sounds were emanating from.

A dark shape separated from the trunk of a tree and suddenly streaked off in the opposite direction. Mac immediately followed after it, quickly notifying Flack via radio that he was in pursuit, but not waiting for a response.

Low-hanging branches and twigs slapped at his face while bushes grabbed at his legs as Mac's chase led him off the trail and into the trees. He caught glimpses of the shape through the foliage as it ran ahead of him. Mac's repeated demands for it to stop did nothing to phase it.

The world gave a sudden tilt around him as a root seemed to leap up and trip Mac, sending him flying face first into the dirt, but he didn't stop there.

The ground suddenly gave way into a steep incline. He was picking up pace as he tumbled and rolled, grasping for any handhold to slow his decent. He managed to turn himself onto his stomach and get his feet pointing downhill just as he felt the ground disappear from under him.

Mac suddenly found himself vertical again as his body slammed into the side of a cliff. His hands gripping onto the ledge were the only things that had kept him from flying off the edge and hitting the highway winding 50 feet below him.

He hung there for a few seconds, letting the last minute of rapid events wash over him as he caught his breath.

Forcing his adrenaline filled muscles to comply, Mac secured his hold on the ledge and used the plentiful foot holds on the jagged cliff to help haul himself back up. He nearly collapsed once he heaved his body back over the edge, his limbs shaking in the aftermath of the adrenaline rush and exertion. He didn't trust himself to traverse back up the ravine quite yet and allowed himself to catch his breath. Whoever he was chasing was probably long gone by now. Hopefully Flack and the other uniforms were close enough to find the trail and track it down.

Mac chanced a glimpse over the edge to the highway below and was surprised to find there was yet more adrenaline his body had to unleash, not because of realizing the height he had nearly fallen, but because of the car parked on the side of the road below him.

It was a dark blue Explorer with tan trim.

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A/N: And there you have it. Please let me know what you think! I really appreciate all of your reviews and find them incredibly helpful.