As Dani released her hug, Malcolm could feel the cold weight of dread return to his chest. While she held him, however briefly, it had fled, unable to combat her natural warmth. When she was near him, he actually felt hope.

Malcolm noticed her furrowed eyebrows, as she pulled away from him. She was avoiding eye contact. Wheels were turning.

After a moment's hesitation, Dani looked up at him, a newfound determination seeping from every pore, "I meant what I said. We are going to figure this out. But, don't think for a second that your little distraction tactic worked." Her hand ran across his shoulder and down until she reached his forearm. She pulled it closer, eyeing the mark, and rubbed her fingers across it gently.

A silent panic swept over Malcolm. He tried to think of a viable excuse, anything he could say to throw her off the scent. But, his ability to focus was practically non-existent. His mind was a chaotic fog.

Again, Dani analyzed every inch of his forearm. The longer she scanned his skin, the more irritated he became. It only worsened when she started to flip his arm over. Malcolm pulled away and crossed them before she had a chance to see the dot on the back of his hand. When he did, her eyes jumped to his, trying to read him.

She really would make a great profiler. On any other day he would applaud her skills of perception. Today, they were his Moriarty.

The silence became oppressive, further agitating him. "What?!" he finally exclaimed, while he stared back at her.

Dani was calm, collected, "You're not going to tell me are you?"

He rolled his eyes in frustration, scratching the back of his neck, "Tell you what, Dani?"

She pursed her lips and ran her tongue across her teeth behind them. Then, she walked over and grabbed her jacket off the hook behind the door.

"Where are you going?" Malcolm huffed.

"To church," she replied dryly, stuffing her arms in the jacket. When he cocked his head to the side in confusion, she glared at him, "There. Now we're both liars."

His heart sank. The door slammed.

You'll lose the single greatest thing that's ever happened to you.

When Dani reached the apartment, the door was already cracked open, as per usual. The familiar scent of leather mixed with whiskey and cinnamon, greeted her like an old friend. She could've walked the entire place blindfolded and never made a mistake. Two years ago, when she was at her lowest, this place was practically her home. Memories of the first days she spent here bombarded her senses, as she slowly walked toward the living room.

"How bad is it?" Gil's voice found her before she spotted him, seated on the couch, head buried in his hands.

Dani sat down robotically next to him, eyes forward, nervously picking at the hem of her shirt. She opened her mouth to answer and the gravity of the situation overwhelmed her. Tears spilled down her cheeks. At the sight of them, Gil quickly sat up and shifted to the cushion next to her.

"Dani?"

Reluctantly, she turned toward him and swallowed the ever-growing lump in her throat. "Malcolm's using," the whispered words practically choked her as they exited.

His head jerked backward, as though he'd just been struck, "He's what?"

She couldn't bear to say it again. Instead, Dani simply looked up at him and silently sobbed.

After a stunned pause, Gil regained his composure, "Are you sure?"

She nodded, "He's been acting erratic the past few days. Hyperactive, easily agitated, shaky."
Ever the optimist, Gil interrupted, "No offense, Powell, but that's Bright on a typical day."

Dani couldn't stifle the single huffed laugh that burst forth. Immediately following, the tears began anew. She wiped her cheek, "He has track marks, Gil." The lieutenant's eyes widened. "Two for sure, on his forearm and neck. But, I think there's a third on his hand. I couldn't get a good look."

He sighed, accepting Dani's assessment, "Shit," and rubbed his forehead, as he processed the information. "You think he's only been doing it a few days or just unable to hide the effects anymore?"

"I'm not one hundred percent sure, but the tracks I saw were fresh. The personality changes are too. I'm hoping it's only been the two or three times. Whatever he's on, I think he dosed in pretty quick succession. Injecting should be hitting him with some serious side effects, though, not just the wild eyes and extra shaky hands."

"You think he's capable of hiding that level of aftermath?"

Dani took a deep breath. The tears had slowed and she wiped the remaining evidence from her cheeks. "I was." She fleetingly glanced at him, her expression filled with shame and fear.

The lieutenant leaned forward, recatching her gaze deliberately, "And look at you now."

The stinging in her eyes returned. "We have to help him, Gil. With this. With Joslynn. He can't go back to prison. They'll... I can't lose him. Please." The end of the plea came out in broken sobs, as Dani leaned forward into his chest.

Gil embraced her, gently rubbing her back as she tried to catch her breath, "We will. Bright's not going anywhere." When Dani pulled back, he smiled down at her reassuringly. "Let's go help our boy."

She nodded, collecting herself, before standing and following him out the door.

When the door slammed behind Dani, Malcolm stood in place for some time, staring at it, silently praying it would reopen any second. When it didn't, the echo of his psyche's prediction rang out in his head.

You'll lose the single greatest thing that's ever happened to you.

The thought of losing Dani was unbearable. Instantly, he felt the onset of the panic attack. The hyperventilating came first. Try as he might, he couldn't slow his breathing back to normal. It was making him light headed. That and the already-elevated heart rate were a bad combination. The room started to tilt and he reached toward the counter for support. His chest felt like it was going to rip in two.

Malcolm looked down at the mark on the back of his right hand. Maybe he was imagining it, but he could somehow feel his pulse in that exact spot. Even resting on the counter, his arms were shaking uncontrollably. In fact, his whole body was trembling, as if he were freezing to death. Meanwhile, he was burning up and sweating profusely.

Water. He needed water.

The bottle cooled his hands, as he attempted to twist off the lid. The tremors were so bad that he couldn't get a good enough grip.

Seriously?

After trying three times, he let out a frustrated growl and practically threw it back into the fridge, opting for a glass and water from the tap instead. Halfway through the second glass, Malcolm's stomach rejected the liquid, and he got violently ill. It hit with such a shock that he choked on the drink he was taking. The glass fell from his hand, shattering once it landed on the kitchen floor. He leaned over the sink and heaved. With the exception of the liquid, nothing exited. As Malcolm rinsed his mouth and the sink, he realized why.

He hadn't eaten anything in a day and a half.

That can't be right, he thought, looking at his watch and retracing his steps, the parts he could accurately remember, at least.

Crepes. That was 7:15 yesterday morning. On the counter sat the untouched plates of food he'd made for Dani and himself an hour earlier. How did he not eat a single thing in 36 hours?

You spent six of those hours strung out, his psyche smugly reminded him. And the other thirty fighting the urge to shoot up again.

Or doubled over begging for death, he added.

Once he cleaned up the scattered fragments of glass from the floor, Malcolm sat at the bar, pulled the plate over, and cautiously nibbled on the contents. Wondering how it was possible for everything to go so incredibly wrong so quickly.

After eating a third of the food on his plate, Malcolm stopped. His stomach was already unhappy with him, given it had been completely empty for so long. He was putting the plate in the dishwasher when the apartment door opened.

His heart leapt and he rushed around the island, "Dani, I- Gil?"

The lieutenant entered behind her, closing the door and offering a compassionate smile.

Malcolm's eyes bounced between the two of them, warily, "Did something happen with the case?"

Dani shook her head and took a deep breath, "No. This isn't about the case."

Fuck.

He straightened his posture, trying to hide the pure exhaustion that had permeated his entire body. "So, what is it about?"

The eye roll she gave him was subtle, but present nonetheless. It was a tiny gesture, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it irritated Malcolm for some reason.

"We both know what this is about." Dani took a step toward him and stopped when he crossed his arms defiantly. "Talk to us. Please. If you don't want to talk to me, then talk to Gil. I don't care, just let us help you."

"What do you want to know?" Malcolm deflected.

Gil leaned against the staircase.

Dani answered, "How long?"

"How long what?" The more she danced around the subject the more agitated Malcolm became. He refused to say the words before she did. The tremors in his hands were getting worse. Balling them into fists did nothing. Why was Gil meddling with the keys in his pocket so loudly?

"Please don't. I know, Malcolm. Gil knows. We want to help."

"If you want to help me, FIND JOSLYNN!" He hadn't initially intended to yell the retort, but everything was catching up to him. The case, the withdrawal, the deception, all of it was coming to a head and the anger he'd been bottling up over Joslynn's tactics had reached its breaking point.

Dani stared at him in wide-eyed shock.

"We're going to," Gil's voice was so calm it was almost unsettling, "but that's not the most important thing right now."

"The hell it isn't." Malcolm argued.

"YOU are the most important thing right now," Dani corrected, as she continued her steps toward him.

"If we don't find her, my days are numbered!" His arms flew outward in their direction, "You both get that right?"

This time Gil answered him, "Bright, finding Josylnn, clearing your name, none of that matters if you OD the next day.

You're fucked regardless, as soon as that drug test comes back, his psyche sneered.

Shit.

When that test comes back positive, he'll be back in prison in a matter of hours, whether they've found Joslynn or not. The realization hit him so hard it knocked the wind out of him.

He was going back to prison. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Joslynn had outsmarted him from the beginning. His heartbeat pounded so loudly in his head that it made his ears ring. Malcolm could feel the tremors in his hands spreading up his arms and throughout the rest of his body. The fear, the rage, the misery, had no outlet.

Dani stopped a foot away from him and reached out for the shaking hand at his side. He stepped back, pulling his arm out of her reach.

"Stop." he warned, too many emotions coursing through him at once.

She didn't listen and took another step forward.

"Leave me alone, Dani."

"I'm not going to let you shut me out," she replied, refusing to give up.

When he tried to take another step in reverse, his back hit the counter. Dani closed the distance between them and reached for the side of his face. "You're not alone, Malcolm."

He jerked away from her, "Don't."

"Powell," Gil moved closer to them.

"I know exactly what you're going through." Her arms began to wrap around him.

"NO. YOU DON'T!" Malcolm flung his arms out, knocking hers down off of him. The force of the gesture made her stumble backward.

"Hey!" Gil was in front of him in an instant, his hand pressing against Malcolm's chest to make sure he stayed where he was.

That wasn't a problem. He was frozen in place, petrified, as he stared at Dani. She returned his gaze, utterly shocked at what he'd done. Malcolm's eyes refused to blink and his mouth hung open. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, the stuttered inhales choked in his throat. Everything felt like he was under water. There was pressure in his head. Gil was talking, but it was so muffled that he couldn't tell what he was saying.

Malcolm clumsily shuffled sideways, desperate to run from his actions, but incapable of performing the task.

"Bright," Gil repeated.

He held a hand up to silence his mentor. The ache behind his sternum stabbed at him, once again threatening to rip through his chest. His eyes found Dani's, guilt and shame pouring from every part of him.

"Da-" Before he could finish her name, his knees buckled and he fell to the floor, arms forward. Malcolm's torso spasmed, involuntarily bending him in half on the ground. The pain had never felt like this before, like it could break his spine in half with the force of the anguish.

Dani knelt by his head, "Malcolm?!"

"What's happening?" Gil looked to her for guidance.

"I think It's withdrawal. This happened to me the night before I OD'd."

"AHHHHHHHHH," Malcolm writhed in pain between them, gasping for breath between screams.

"What can we do?" Gil begged.

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, "Nothing." She pulled Malcolm's head into her lap and stroked his hair. "It's going to be okay," she whispered, trying to comfort him as his body twitched and flailed. "It'll be over soon."

Gil watched in horror as the agony continued. Dani didn't even bother to wipe the tears.

For eleven minutes, Malcolm cried out in anguish, his arms wrapped around himself. Dani held his head, keeping the hair off of his face, and dabbed his forehead with the cold washcloth Gil had retrieved from the bathroom.

When it finally subsided, Malcolm was drenched in sweat from head to toe. His muscles eventually relaxed and his body stretched out. He lay there, half-conscious, groaning quietly, for some time.

Gil was sitting on the floor at his feet, head resting against one of the kitchen cabinets, eyes closed.

Malcolm opened his eyes and looked up at Dani. Tears immediately filled them, clouding the crystal blue. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the pain in his face now, was far worse than it had been a few moments ago. "I'm so sorry, Dani." He repeated the phrase a dozen times.

Gil quietly watched them.

"I know," she assured, taking his hand in hers. "But, you have to talk to us. I'm begging you."

He nodded, tears falling down the side of his face. After a moment's pause, Malcolm gingerly pulled himself up into a seated position and leaned back against the side of the fridge. The three of them sat on the kitchen floor together, Dani and Gil anxiously waiting.

Malcolm cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, "Two nights ago, after Dani fell asleep, I went to one of the addresses we found - a nail salon frequented by Joslynn. I knew it was too late, or early rather, for her to be there. I just couldn't sleep."

Gil and Dani made brief eye contact, as Malcolm continued, "On my way back, a garbage truck stopped in front me when I was trying to cross a street. I tried to go around it. Then, two men attacked me, pinned me against a wall, and one of them injected something into my hand." He held up his right hand, showcasing the mark on the back. "Based on the effects, and the Niners' history, I'm assuming it was heroin."

"That's where the scrapes on your face came from," Dani noted.

"Yes. The next day I was already feeling some substantial side effects. Then, I figured out the apartment was bugged. And," he looked over at Dani, "you called about Joslynn being in your apartment. Gil offered to give me a ride home, but I wanted him to get to you as soon as possible. So, I told him I'd walk the few blocks to hail a cab. While I was walking, a boy on a scooter crashed on the sidewalk. When I knelt down to help him, his dad snuck up behind me and injected something into my neck." He pointed to the mark there.

"Wait," Dani held her hand up, "They used the little boy as bait?"

Malcolm nodded.

"Jesus," Gil added, incredulously.

"That night, after… you got home," he paused looking up at Dani in contrition.

It took her a second to understand his guilt. Then, she remembered what had happened when she returned to the apartment. "You were still high."

Malcolm swallowed, "Yeah." The two stared at each other for a moment. The hurt in Dani's eyes was a dagger to his heart.

"Heroin again?" Gil asked.

"I think the second time was a cocktail. Certain aspects of the heroin high were there. But, it also felt a lot like that night the box of cocaine exploded in the club."

"Speedball?" Dani suggested.

He nodded, "That's what I'm thinking."

Gil just shook his head, stunned.

"And the third time?" Dani was eying the dot on his forearm.

Malcolm lowered his head, picking at his fingernails, "The third time… was voluntary."

Dani took a slow, deep breath, controlling her response carefully. Gil simply stared at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"The man that injected my neck put something in my pocket before he ran off: a syringe. He said it was 'for later'. I went to throw it away when I got home, but I couldn't do it. The effects were already hitting me pretty hard. So, I hid it in the nightstand. That night, last night, these attacks started. I woke up and thought for sure I had internal bleeding or something. I ended up in the bathroom half the night getting sick from the pain, and withdrawal. Then, today happened."

"What happened today?" Gil inquired.

"This morning my P.O. called. He wanted me to come to the precinct."

Dani's eyes widened, Malcolm could tell she had already figured it out. "Oh, God. They drug tested you."

"Yep."

Gil rubbed his forehead, "Son of a bitch."

"Malcolm," Dani's voice was panicked.

"I know. It doesn't matter if we find Joslynn or not now. As soon as that test comes back positive, I'll be the property of the State of New York - again."

Dani's hands slowly covered her mouth.

"The best part is, Chris knew."

Gil's head shot up, "What do you mean he 'knew'?"

"He knew the test was going to come back positive. He asked if I was nervous, I lied and said I wasn't. Then he said 'we both know you should be'."

"He's working with Joslynn," Dani gasped.

Malcolm sighed, "So it would seem. Anyway, when I got back home, the attacks happened again, multiple times. At one point I passed out from the pain. After that, when another started, I just couldn't take it anymore. The pain, the realization that I'm going back to prison, it was all too much for me to handle. So, I shot up on purpose. I'm not proud of it, but I did."

"Bright, you had no idea what was in that syringe. You could've died." Gil's voice was stern, yet it cracked on the final word.

Malcolm looked repentantly at his surrogate father, "I know."

Minutes passed, as the three of them sat in silence on the floor, processing the information.

Without warning, Dani stood, determination coloring every inch of her face, "So, that leaves us one option, then."

Both men looked up at her questioningly.

"We out Chris as being in Joslynn's pocket, before the test results get back."

Malcolm and Gil stood, listening intently as she continued, "Then it's compromised and they have to retest you. Three days is the longest either of those drugs will show on a urine test. If you have a faster metabolism that can be even shorter. Negative drug tests come back in around 24 hours, but the positive ones take longer. They do additional analysis to detect which exact substances have been used. Those don't usually come back for days, sometimes even a full week. So we out Chris, the results come back positive, and when they retest, you'll be clean."

"Are you sure about the timeframe?" Malcolm asked, afraid to allow himself to feel hope.

Dani tilted her head to the side, "You're not the only experience in this department."

Both of them looked to Gil for approval.

He slowly nodded his head, "All of this is reliant on us connecting Chris to Joslynn. And we don't have a lot of time. Powell, call JT. Tell him to meet us at the precinct."

"All of us?" Malcolm asked.

"Yes, all of us. You've officially lost the right to privacy. Until all of this is over, you've got a permanent shadow, 24/7. That's for both prevention and protection."

"Fine by me," the profiler replied, beaming.

Dani turned back toward them, "JT is on his way. Said he would be there in twenty minutes."

"Perfect," Gil answered. "Bright, get dressed. It's time to go to work."