A/N: I'm so sorry about the lack of updates on this story. I've been so busy with school and work that I haven't had the time, and for that I wholeheartedly apologize. I hope I haven't lost any of you because of that. Anyway, I still don't own CSI:NY, CSI:Miami, CBS, or any other known entity. Hailey is, however, mine. The italics are for the dream sequence.

Chapter 3

I looked around, keeping my eyes peeled for a glimmer of anything that could tell me where I was. Nothing. Not even a mark on the wall. Everything was bland, smoky gray, and I sighed. What the hell was going on?

The door I didn't realize was in the wall opened, and Tim walked in. The white of his shirt played a slight contrast to the smoke that poured in behind him. "Tim?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. He closed the door behind him, and leaned against the wall in his characteristic style. I watched him intently.

"What the hell's happening?"

"Hey, mouth, sis."

"Sorry. What the eff is happening here?" He laughed, something that hasn't been heard in years.

"Better. Listen, sis, I need your help."

"How am I supposed to help you? You're dead."

"I'm not dead."

"Tim, seriously, you died."

"No, I didn't."

"What are you talking about?" He looked over at the door as flames licked at it from the other side.

"I don't have much time before the fire gets you in here. Get out while you can, and remember, I'm not dead. I need your help."

"How?" Before he could answer, the door burst into flames. He rushed over to me.

"Get out of here."

"Tim…"

"Save yourself, get out of here."

"But…"

"Remember you saw me. Remember what I said. Help me later. Get out now."

"Tim…" He forced open the window that just appeared, and pushed me toward it.

"I love you, Hailey. Now, go."

"I love you too, Tim." I climbed slowly through the window…

I wake up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. It takes me a minute to regain my bearings and control before I realize that I'm in the break room at work. I sigh, shaking my head. I fell asleep at work. "You have a good nap?" I hear from the door. I freeze, wincing.

"Mac, I'm so sorry," I say. He walks in, shaking his head. "It'll never happen again… although I probably…"

"Hailey, relax. Your shift ended long before you fell asleep." I sigh.

"Still, I'm really sorry." He sits down across from me, concern etched in his features. "You're not gonna fire me, are you?" He shakes his head.

"No." He sighs, and I watch him curiously. "So, I assume you're not doing all that well if you've taken to falling asleep in the lab." I sigh.

"No, I'm not," I admit for the first time. Something about Mac just makes me have to tell the truth. Why, I don't understand, though.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" I shook my head. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want anyone to worry."

"They're going to worry whether you want them to or not, Hailey."

"Yeah, I know. I just… I want my life to be normal again. I want everything to be okay again. And it's not. I fall asleep and all I see is him. He haunts me in my dreams. I try to analyze evidence and all I think about is his case and what the Miami team went through trying to find his killer. I think of all the things I wanted to say to him, and all the things I never got to say to him, and it kills me. It honestly kills me. I have so many regrets, Mac." I put my head down on my arms, determined not to let him see me cry again. I realize that the movement was futile when he reaches out across the table and rubs my arm.

"I know it hurts," he says softly. I stay still, sniffling. "You always think about the things you never got to say. About how much you miss them. Where you'd be if they were still here. But for two siblings who lived on two opposite ends of the east coast, you guys were as close as you could be."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything, Mac," I say as I look up. "He doesn't know about a lot of the things that happened up here. And I'm sure he hasn't told me a lot about what happened down there."

"That's the nature of a sibling relationship, I'm afraid."

"And Neil… God, Neil… I still hate him."

"Why's that?"

"Because he screwed everything up! If Tim didn't have to always be cleaning up his messes, he would've stayed in New York, and he wouldn't have left for Miami. If he didn't leave, he wouldn't have been in that jewelry store to be shot!" I cry even harder, and Mac frowns from across the table.

"I think that's unfair," he says softly.

"I don't care!" I shout in response. "He couldn't even be bothered to go to his twin brother's funeral!" I bury my face in my hands, shaking with sobs. Mac moves next to me, hugging me toward him. I cry against his shoulder, and he holds me there for what feels like a while before I calm down. "I'm sorry," I whisper hoarsely.

"It's okay," he replies quietly.

"I just… I had a really weird dream, and so I keep thinking about him." He furrows his brow.

"What kind of dream?"

"Tim was there, telling me that he wasn't dead and that he needed my help. But, I trust his team. They wouldn't mess up. There's no way he's still alive." He nods, sighing softly. "I think I just really want him to be alive."

"Yeah. And that's understandable." I frown, nodding.

"I miss him. Miss hearing from him every few days, his concerns that I'm still alive, him calling and threatening Danny every time we got into a fight." He smiles at that, and I sigh. "It really was funny, though. Especially after the first time Tim's gun misfired. Danny bantered back that if Tim shot him, he'd still be alive because Tim can't clean a gun." Mac shakes his head, laughing softly.

"Your brother was a character, huh?"

"Yeah," I say, biting the corner of my lip. "Tim was always fun. He was the bitter, sarcastic one who would protect me from everything. He hated that I became a cop."

"Yeah, I know," Mac says. "He called me when the NYPD got your application." My eyebrows shot up. "He never told you, did he?"

"Of course not. Did you think he would?" Mac shakes his head. "What'd he say?"

"He said that you had applied for PD as a detective, but that he would appreciate if you ended up at CSI."

"Why?"

"He felt you'd be safer there. Not that you couldn't hold your own, that wasn't his issue. He just didn't want you put in that position."

"Why?"

"He said something about you being the hope for the future." I bit my lip, tears welling up in my eyes again. "That, and he thought you liked science better than chasing suspects down." I shake my head.

"He had no idea how wrong he was." Mac nods, smiling slightly. "So, you hired me because he made a phone call?"

"No. I took a glance at you because he made a phone call. I hired you because you were qualified for the job." I nod, sniffling. "You're a great CSI, and I knew you would be after I saw your application and talked to you." I nod again before biting my lip.

"I don't think he ever wanted me to really be serious about this, though. I told him once that I was going to be a cop, and he told me that was the dumbest choice I could ever make. I did it anyway, though. He never liked it, but when he found out I became a CSI, we had more we could talk about, you know?"

"Yeah."

"Of course, his expertise was always trace, and mine's more of psychological profiling, but still, we had things we could talk about. He would explain some test he ran on some piece of evidence and how it nailed the guy, and I would talk about how I profiled a murderer or something. We had a common ground to walk on, you know?"

"Yeah."

"Neil and I never had that. And I doubt we ever will. Tim and I were a lot alike. So much so that our parents thought we were the twins." I sigh, looking down. "I'm sorry, I talk too much." Mac shakes his head.

"It's alright," he says. "Some people get through things by talking about them." I nod, sighing.

"I'm not a talker," I explain. He nods. "I usually don't talk about my problems. I prefer no one know what's going on. But, sometimes, I just need to get it out, and bless his heart, but Danny isn't always the best person to talk to." He chuckles. "He can get emotional sometimes, and it's better if he doesn't know how bad it really is. But, he knows I'm not really sleeping and that I only really do when he's there."

"Yeah. Most of us can see that." I shrug.

"I go to sleep and I dream of him. Which sounds really weird, but it's true. I know it's all part of the grieving process and that this is relatively normal, but I honestly think it's something that should be happening if I were his girlfriend rather than his younger sister."

"You guys were close. I'm not surprised at all." I shrug again, sighing.

"Doesn't really matter. I should probably go home before Danny worries about where I am." Mac chuckles before pointing through the window.

"I think he already is." I turn around and find Danny standing there, watching us. I smile softly and turn back to Mac.

"Thanks for the talk."

"Anytime. You know my door's always open." I nod, smiling.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He waves, and I walk out of the break room. Danny wordlessly slings his arm around my shoulders, and I glance back and wave to Mac before leaving with Danny for the night.