Somebody Somewhere

by The Atomic Cafe

I'm a suspect,' Mac said blankly.

Somebody Somewhere

By Dimgwrthien

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates.

Mac woke to the warmth that he always associated with Stella. Even in the nights when he knew he'd wake up to secrets, to going to work and lying about the night before to everyone short of the two of them, he always had that warmth from her. Stella's curls fell over the pillow, and Mac fingered them for a moment before he sat up in the bed. Stella slid off him, her hand still tight around his chest. He frowned. She had always been the type who moved in her sleep, or enough to move herself off him when he sat up.

Moving slowly, keeping silent, Mac crawled out of his bed, preparing for the cold of the floor. His head swam, dizzying him until he could barely tell one direction from the other. When his feet touched it, he found it not only warm, but wet and slippery. His movements were quick as he grabbed for the lamp, nearly throwing the entire thing off the table as he turned it on.

Stella's body was limp over the bed, one arm draped onto the floor. Mac's feet and chest were red with blood, and he found himself searching his body for the cause. Nothing. There was too much blood to be from just a cut.

"Oh Jesus, fuck," he whispered, though his words were tumbling over each other, as he grabbed Stella's shoulder and shook it. She didn't respond, so he pushed her over, seeing the deep cut over her heart. It was wide and long, stretching from the bottom of her ribs up to her collarbones. He could see the white of her bones, the red of everything else, the black that seemed to cover his eyes. His hands were shaking. Shaking bad. He fought for control, to comfort himself, but he could only reach for the phone. It dropped from his hands before he found a firmer grip on it and dialed.

(New York Minute)

Danny and Hawkes were in his apartment. Danny held a camera as Hawkes stood beside a police officer, waiting for Danny's signal to start searching. Their faces were grim, and Mac couldn't help but notice the looks they cast him when they thought he wasn't looking.

"Did you move anything after you woke up?" Hawkes asked. Mac jumped when he heard the voice, then squeezed his hands together so that no one would notice that they were shaking worse.

"Moved the blankets before I noticed anything." Mac took a deep breath, but his lungs wanted to keep their shudders up instead. His voice broke from the jumping of his chest. "When I saw the blood, I turned her over. Otherwise, just the phone."

Danny took one last picture, a close-up of Stella's slightly parted lips and closed eyes. He turned away as though he couldn't stand the site anymore. "Mac?"

Mac looked up. Danny's face was still set in a grim expression, his lips tight.

"Could I ask why she was here to begin with?"

The question. Mac had expected it since the moment he saw the two. Once he started to think, 'Do they think I did this to her?', the question didn't seem so horrible. There was nothing left. No chance for Danny to laugh whenever the two left the lab together. No reason for Hawkes to joke that he'd leave them alone in the morgue.

"We -" he started, then sighed.

Hawkes seemed to understand. He glanced at Danny and, though Mac couldn't see his face, seemed to give him the idea in his facial expression.

Danny nodded, swallowed, then looked back at Stella. He handed the camera to Hawkes, and continued to stare at Stella as he spoke. "Mac… I'm sorry, but… we're gonna need to take you into the hall."

Mac stood up, glad that he wasn't collapsing even when his legs felt like rubber. His mind repeated the same question over and over again - Do they think I did it? steadily morphed into Did I do it?

Hawkes touched his shoulder as they left the room. The officer followed, as did Danny. Hawkes turned to Mac and spoke first. His eyes were concentrated, an expression Mac hadn't seen so severely in a long time. "Can you tell us anything about what happened last night to now?"

Mac closed his eyes, ignoring the steady sway of his legs. Hawkes' hand was still on his shoulder, and he tried to concentrate on the touch. "We got off work within an hour of each other. Went to a restaurant for an hour or two…" He thought. "A café. I have the receipt on the dresser." He motioned back to his bedroom before he froze. Already he was trying to defend himself, prove where he was at every moment. He continued on with the story, his eyes still closed. "Walked back here. Had to be about… eight by then. We watched part of a movie, should still be in the player. Then we had some wine." Mac opened his eyes and felt their eyes on him, accusatory and pitying at the same time. "Lots of wine, actually. The bottle's probably finished, should still be on the counter. Glasses are probably in the bedroom on the table." He frowned as he remembered that he had never seen them as he turned on the lamp. Mac comforted himself with the thought that he wasn't paying attention to the table. "Then we…" He shook his head. "Both of us were asleep by midnight."

Danny looked sideways at Hawkes, then back to Mac. "I'll go look around again," he whispered before leaving back into the apartment.

"Sit down," Hawkes offered, leading Mac to one of the chairs in the hallway. Mac sunk down into it slowly, noticing the throbbing in his head. He felt suddenly self-conscious that he was only wearing a pair of pants. "You alright?"

Mac covered his face with his hands as he shook his head. "I -"

"I'm sure you didn't do this," Hawkes answered sternly, sitting down beside him. The officer continued to hover by the doorway. "We'll take you down to the precinct until we find out who did it. It's not an arrest."

Mac looked at Hawkes as he lowered his hands. "No. You can't assume I didn't do anything. I was drunk half the night and -" Mac looked at his hands, noticing the scratches in one of his palms. "I woke up with Stella on top of me and I could have picked up a glass or -" Mac slowed down, trying to control his breathing once more. "Judge the evidence as though it wasn't me."

"If it wasn't you, you'd have already solved the case." Hawkes clapped his shoulder. "Look, the paramedic will be here soon. Get your hand bandaged and make sure you're fine."

"Where's the camera?" Mac asked.

Hawkes frowned with unasked questions, but handed it over to Mac. Mac held it steady in one hand, laying the other out on the bench as he photographed the tears and blood. He handed it back to Hawkes. "It's still evidence," Mac explained.

Hawkes looked at the camera as though it had transformed into something else, but didn't ask another question. Danny returned, holding a plastic bag. When Mac squinted, he could see pieces of glass inside, as well as blood on the edges.

"Looks like the wine glasses," Danny explained. He looked at Mac. "I'll send them to the lab. Hold tight, Mac. The results can't say it was you."

He spoke to Mac as though they were in the lab on a better day, holding the evidence in the murder of a stranger.

"Don't assume," Mac whispered.

Danny shifted nervously without an answer. He held the evidence in one hand, looking at the bag, then looked to Hawkes. "What -"

Hawkes stood up. "We'll take you over to Flack," he told Mac. "He'll make sure everything's fine for now. I wish we could bring you back to the lab -"

"But I'm the suspect," Mac finished for him and felt numb as he said it.

Neither man said anything until Hawkes whispered. "I'll grab your clothes." He left to the apartment.

Danny continued to shift nervously, refusing to meet Mac's eyes. "I can't believe…" He blew out of his mouth with a vicious force, and Mac could tell he was holding back tears. "Jesus. I mean… Stella's…" He finally looked up. "I know you didn't do this, Mac."

"Always go into a case with an open mind."

His face shifted as though angry. "Fuck, Mac. You don't want to have done this, do you?"

"You have no clue how much I would give to be innocent," Mac answered, his tone even. "It doesn't matter if I'm innocent or not, though. Stella's still dead."

Danny's blue eyes wavered for a moment. "I know you couldn't have done that." He covered his mouth as he looked back at the ground, then sighed as he moved his hand. "No one would have touched her, Mac. Who -? I mean… if you've done this - with her before… why would you do it now?"

"I don't know," Mac whispered.

"I still can't believe… Stella…?"

Mac looked at Danny, watching the younger detective continue to shift around, pace, like a caged animal. "This is where you need to realize that your work is closer to you than you realized. There isn't a glass wall between you and crime, and if there was, it's able to shatter." He took a shaking breath. "If you want to do anything… help Stella by not judging the evidence."

Danny blinked. "Mac, I know you didn't do this to her. Don't you - I mean, can't you just feel something that says you didn't."

"That feeling isn't always reliable," Mac answered, though he knew what Danny was talking about. Something in him did shout out that he couldn't have killed Stella, that not even his unconscious could imagine doing something like that to her.

Danny sighed as he gave up on persuading Mac. Hawkes entered the hall again, a pile of clothes in his arms. "Sorry, Mac. Going to have to make you change in the bathroom or the station."

Mac took the clothes, using them to shield himself against more than his lack of a shirt. "There's a bathroom down the hall."

He let their nods release him, something that he had never experienced before. Danny and Hawkes' dismissal of him seemed awkward on their part, too, something that no one in the room had ever been trained to do.

Once in the bathroom, Mac shut the door and put his clothes over the sink. He took his time getting dressed, then stared in the mirror. He had grown used to seeing a tired and grim face stare back at him since Claire's death, but now he noticed subtle differences. There was blood on his jaw, which he rubbed off fiercely, as well as red in his eyes that he couldn't remember seeing the night before. Mac turned on the faucet, washing his hands of blood, watching the red slip into the drain.

Mac grabbed his clothes, careful not to rest them on his raw hand, then left the bathroom. Two paramedics were already going into the apartment, a stretcher and body bag carried between them. He watched them, feeling his heart drop into his stomach. The bag wasn't completely zipped up, and Mac could see a curl stuck in the opening.

(Somebody Somewhere)

Flack's face didn't flicker for a moment as he saw Mac. The only thing that seemed to register in his mind was that the trio was there.

"What's going on?" he asked as soon as he saw Danny. Hawkes remained behind, still with a limp grip on Mac's shoulder. "I didn't get much out of the report -"

"Stella's dead," Danny explained shortly. He continued walking, Flack starting to follow him. Hawkes and Mac remained behind.

"Need some water?" Hawkes asked. "Coffee?"

"I'm fine." Mac swallowed. "I just -" He shut his eyes.

"Still thinking you're about to wake up?"

Mac glanced at Hawkes curiously.

"That's all I'm thinking," Hawkes admitted. "When I saw her body I just - something just went on there, and I still can't figure out what I was thinking. I just know that I wanted to wake up and head into the lab to see Stella laughing at me for worrying."

Before Mac could answer - though he wasn't sure if he even had an answer - Flack and Danny returned. Flack's expression still didn't seem changed when he looked at Mac. Danny glanced at Mac, then spoke to Hawkes. "Time to head to the lab?"

Hawkes nodded, and the two left.

Mac looked back at Flack. "Sit down," Flack offered, moving to point out a seat. Mac sat down gingerly, feeling as though he were being disciplined. "How're you holding up?"

Mac didn't answer.

"I'm sorry we have to keep you here." Flack leaned against the desk, and Mac could finally see the far-away look in his eyes.

"I'm a suspect," Mac said blankly.

Flack looked down at him, his face grim. "That you are. None of us think you did, but you're the witness. Not a conscious witness, but a witness." He looked over Mac. "C'mon. I'll take you to the back. It's nicer there - not as many people."

Mac stood up and noticed the dizzy feeling that had tortured him when he woke up. His head pounded, and it didn't seem as though all of it could be attributed to the alcohol from the night before. It all seemed too far away, and even the busy precinct started to fade away. Blackness swam around his eyes, drowning him until he didn't even realize when he made contact with the floor.

(Somebody Somewhere)

"And there's your strike one," Mac heard above him as he opened his eyes. The voice sounded too loud and happy, forcing him to wince. "See?"

"What?" he asked, noticing how hoarse his voice sounded.

The room slowly came into view as the haziness seemed to leave Mac's brain. He tensed up until he noticed where he was, recognizing the calendar-ridden and marked walls of the precinct. Exactly where Flack said they were going.

"Hey there," Danny greeted. When Mac looked at him, he noticed the painfully emotional expression had left him. He still didn't look happy, but better than he had before. "We have one question to ask you."

Mac raised his eyebrows, still trying to get used to the light.

"Did you have anything else last night beside wine?"

Mac tried to concentrate on the night before, but images of Stella seemed to overrun any details. Stella's laughter as they watched a movie. Her weight against him on the couch. Her voice. Her harsh breathing and the sounds of the blankets sliding over naked skin.

"No," he answered. "We had dinner and wine. That's it."

Danny smiled. "Then I think you may be off the hook for this."

Mac watched him cautiously. He noticed Hawkes and Flack with faint smiles, listening to Danny. "What are you talking about?"

"I haven't seen anyone as duped as you were since…" Danny blew air out of his mouth and smiled. "Since two years ago during a drug bust I was on. Amazing what forensics do." At Mac's confused look, he continued. "Sleeping pills. Checked it out and someone had to slip you sleeping pills. Plenty of them, too, which means it's a surprise you even woke up this morning. We checked, and Stella was as duped as you were."

"That doesn't -"

"Yes it does," Danny said, and he looked excited.

"It does, Mac," Hawkes added. "We submitted the proof in. You're legally off the hook. It'd be impossible for you to have even touched her. And looking at your story, it fits. Why else would she have been on top of you unless someone else did it? District Attorney's off your back. Never ever had to turn in your badge, Mac."

Mac studied their faces quietly.

"We tested the blood on the glass," Danny said. Plenty of Stella's. Some of yours, some from a third, unknown person. There's plenty of glass missing, though, so we still have to find whoever took it with them."

"I -" Mac covered his eyes. It took him a minute to realize he was on a bed, and he touched one of the blankets underneath him, gripping it tightly. "Any leads?" he asked blandly.

"Just the blood." Danny's smile turned to a frown. "And the autopsy."

"Why'd it wait that long?"

Hawkes glanced at Danny, then to Mac as he spoke. "We figured you wouldn't want us doing it without you."

(Somebody Somewhere)

Mac stood to the side, watching Sid carefully slice across Stella's shoulders. She lied there, naked and prone. Her eyes were still closed, but it did nothing to make her look peaceful. Mac's eyes were only drawn to the thick cuts on her body.

Hawkes stood to one side, Danny to the other. They watched with an impersonal detachment, keeping their faces straight, though their eyes betrayed all emotion.

Sid leaned forward and speak into a microphone as he worked. His voice lacked the same interest and wonder that it usually held whenever Mac heard the autopsy tapes. There were no half-concealed jokes and hidden grins in the autopsy, but only silence where they should have been.

"Cutting out the heart," Sid told the microphone as he carefully slit it out of Stella's chest. Mac watched, seeing a portion of the red and blue mess move into Sid's hands as he carefully picked it out. "Aorta looks as though it was slashed." He looked carefully at the heart, pointing out a rip in the tissue with one finger. "Best cause of death I can see here."

He held out the heart to Mac, who carefully put his hands out. Sid placed it down, continuing to talk. Mac only watched the still organ. The night before, he had listened to Stella's heartbeat, quick and rapid with his, as though they had shared the same heartbeat. His mind only trailed around the thought: I was in there once.

What the head makes cloudy
The heart makes very clear
The days were so much brighter
In the time when she was here
But I know there's somebody somewhere
Make these dark clouds disappear
Until that day, I have to believe
I believe, I believe

In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute
You can get out of the rain
In a New York Minute
Everything can change
In a New York Minute

- "New York Minute"