Toasty here,

Well as I said to most, I'd update on Friday, and I'm keeping to that word- with an hour only until Saturday and maybe it won't be posted until Saturday and if that occurs to be the case, I'm so sorry. I'm also sorry if this chapter has a lot of strange language and ideas, I just came back from watching 'A midsummer nights dream' performed and I adored it so much!

This was reposted after being spell checked several times- massive apologies to when it wasn't.

Anyways, onwards we continue!

Disclaimer:I do not own CSI New York, of that I'm sure as I sit here wondering if I'm getting too fat…

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"Stella," Jess managed to rasp the word out of her throat, her dry and aching throat. It felt sore, as if someone had run a cheese grater up and down it at least a thousand times over. A chill was wracking he body, she lay only in an old pair of jeans and a spare shirt of Don's- she could feel the wet sticky blood through the shirt and could see it pooled around her. Her own blood, at least she hoped it was hers and not Stella's.

Her whole body ached, her mind most certainly ached but it ached for Don's love more then anything else, to feel his arms embracing her and to feel his light kisses on her neck, softer then a butterfly could ever hope to be. She could feel the freezing concrete in which she lay on but could see nothing in the dark gloom which surround her and shrouded her.

"Jess," It was a hoarse whisper of a reply, but a reply it was and Jess's heart leaped as she tried to turn to see her friend. However all that occurred was a sharp stab of pain, like being stabbed with a burning rod, before a low and steady wave of utter agony. The chill caused a shiver to run down her back and her arms to convulse slightly before sagging back against the floor. Her own breathing echoed around the room and in the dim light Jess could see the outline of her breath in the cold and sealed air.

At that moment, Jess knew if Don didn't find her soon, she wouldn't last much longer.

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Don paced up and down the small corridor area over and over again, his mind stuck like a broken record, playing the significant moments of his life with Jess again and again. The first time he had kissed her, tasted her cherry lip gloss. The first time he had held her, the first time he had laid with her and the first time he had ever committed himself to anyone or anything- the moment she agreed to his proposal of marriage. They were like torture to him as he paced, stone cold coffee in his hand.

"Don, there is someone who wishes to speak to you," Mac spoke from the corner of the room, his body leaning against the door frame while his eyes reflected shadows and were rimmed with a lack of sleep and personal care. How could he care for himself when the woman he loved more then his own life could be dying and he could do nothing about it but wait for a lead which may never come.

Don only nodded and followed Mac, dumping the coffee in the nearest bin he could find. He too held the shadows and whenever he caught his reflection all he could see was a tormented man driven to despair beyond comprehensible words. He followed blindly down a few corridors he had to say he hadn't walked down for many a few years, though from the number of people they passed it seemed he was not alone in that.

There, stood in the doorway to an interrogation room, Cliff Angell lent against a wall. Don felt his hands involuntarily clench into fists, anger bubbling in his throat no matter how tired he happened to be. Mac sensed Don's anger and before Don could take a step towards the retired officer, Mac's hand was resting on Don's shoulder gently. Not enough to indicate he was being patronize towards his friend, but enough to encourage him to carefully think his next move through.

"Please, Don. I need to do something to help my daughter. I was wrong, I know that now, I see it all now. Your father and I have for many years quarrelled and I know now how wrong I have been all these years to not see what is in front of me. You love my daughter and I know she adores you, I don't expect you to forgive me for what I have done either, but just allow me to help my only daughter, my precious beautiful daughter. If she loves you like I know she does, then I shall love you like my own son, whether you greet that or not," Cliff didn't pause to allow an interruption from Don and dutifully –as he had been trained to do to those with higher rank-Don allowed him to finish before addressing him.

"Sir, with all due respect, you disgraced Jessica and your entire family by allowing that thing you call a man to attempt to marry her. Now I understand in your eyes he couldn't have been worse then her current fiancé- me- but what you did was inexcusable," Don hurried to finish before Mac could cut him off, and he shook his hand off his shoulder briskly. Cliff only nodded through out Don's small speech and at the end of it he hung his head sadly.

"I know, and if I could take it back I would, believe me I would!" Cliff's shoulders sagged that little more and Dons stared at him for a few long seconds. He had been raised to hate Cliff Angell on principle and after all that had passed he loathed the mere presence of him- however he had also been taught to hate every Angell on principle and yet he cherished one far above his own life- would Jess have forgiven him? He couldn't shake the thought that she would have, therefore despite all the senses in his body screaming for him not to, Don walked over to the older man and shook his hand gently.

Toasty here,

Oh god, I am sorry it's 15 minutes into Saturday! I am so sorry it's short as well, but right now I might fall asleep if I stay awake much longer xx