I WILL FIND SOLACE IN THE TRUTH.

Malcolm's eyelids felt like they were glued shut. It took a considerable amount of effort to finally separate them from each other. After all that hard work, he immediately shut them again, the light in the room practically blinding him. He squinted, and slowly acclimated to the brightness. Once he had adjusted, he fully opened his eyes again. The sounds of the hospital floated around him: the infusion pump next to his bed, the hustle and bustle outside his room, the pages for personnel.

Dani was seated next to him in a chair. Malcolm opened his mouth to say something, but his throat was on fire. She heard his movement and looked at him, a heart-warming smile covered her face, "Hey there."

Malcolm cleared his throat, "Hey."

Dani handed him the cup of water that was sitting on his tray, "Sips," she warned. He agreed with a chuckle. The cool liquid soothed his sandpaper throat. He attempted to take a few deep breaths, his chest was tight and incredibly sore.

"How are you feeling?" Dani asked.

Malcolm hadn't had the time to fully analyze that yet. He paused for a moment. Not surprisingly, his abdomen was the worst. He lifted the neckline of his hospital gown and inspected the damage. There were small patches of gauze covering the spots where the picana had touched him. Two larger ones covered the wounds from the knife. His whole torso felt like he'd been the punching bag for a prize fighter. The area around the stab wound ached, consistently throbbing with each heartbeat. He couldn't see them, but he could feel the stitches on his upper arm as the gown brushed across them. His right forearm had been redressed and wrapped as well.

"All things considered," Malcolm mused, "not that bad." He looked up at her, "What about you?"

"I'm okay," she replied. An awkward silence permeated the room, neither of them knowing what to say. After a long while, Dani spoke. "I told the doctor about all of your injuries. You were unconscious, so I'm assuming you're good with that."

He grinned, "Yeah, I'm good with that."

Dani's disposition turned somber, "They said you had a better chance of winning the lottery than you did of surviving that much blood loss, after what your heart had already been through." Her voice wavered for a second. "They were all genuinely shocked. Honestly it was a little frightening how shocked they were."

Malcolm wasn't sure how to respond to that information. He decided that that, along with so many other things from the past five days, was better dealt with another day. The mention of their captivity reminded him of Nathan.

Dani must have followed the same train of thought. She answered his unasked question, "Nathan's dead, Malcolm. The knife hit the subclavian artery. They pronounced him as soon as they got here."

Malcolm looked down at his hands for a moment, processing. He wasn't necessarily happy, but he didn't exactly feel any guilt either. In any other circumstance, the fact that he had taken someone else's life would be far more torturous. It would stir up all of the 'Am I like my father' feelings that were constantly in the back of his mind. But this didn't make him feel anything other than relieved. Add that to the growing list of things for the therapist, he thought.

He looked back up at Dani. "Have they taken your statement yet?"

"Not yet.I told Gil I wanted to be here when you woke up. He was pretty understanding."

Malcolm smiled, grateful that someone had been here when he woke. He considered his words for a minute before finally asking, "What do you want me to tell them?"

Dani looked at him, anguish in her eyes, and then put her face in her hands. "I don't know. I've been arguing with myself about it the whole time we've been here. The cop in me keeps saying, 'you have to tell the truth no matter how horrible'. But, I just- I can't spend the rest of my life as that cop who's partner was forced to rape her."

Malcolm flinched at the word. It wasn't wrong, but it burned the inside of his chest far worse than any of the shocks had. "Whatever you want me to say, I will," he assured her.

"They did the S.A.K. as soon as we got here. They've seen the bruises." She returned her gaze to his. "They know."

Bruises. He had left bruises on her. He tried to swallow, but the burning in his throat had been replaced by a lump that felt like it was going to cut off his air supply. The image of Dani having to endure the invasive procedures for the assault kit, the photos being taken of her body, after everything she'd already been through, tore at him from the inside out. He could barely breathe. "I'm so sorry, Dani," he whispered, hanging his head in shame. He wanted more than anything to be able to bear the entirety of this burden for the both of them, but he couldn't.

Dani picked at the hem of her shirt for a moment. "No matter what, we're screwed," she continued. "We either lie and risk getting caught, or tell the truth and spend the rest of our careers getting whispered about everywhere we go."

Malcolm hadn't had the time to consider what their future held, but Dani was right. If he was being honest with himself, he was surprised that in her version of the future, they were still working together. He had assumed she wouldn't be able to stomach being around him anymore. He had to figure something out for her. There had to be a solution, some way that this wouldn't haunt them, publically, for the rest of their lives.

"Wait," he said thoughtfully, "Nathan's dead."

Dani was confused, "I told you that, Malcolm."

"No. Dani. He's dead."

"Yes, he is. How is that relevant to this part of the conversation?"

"There's no impending trial. No need for a conviction," he paused.

"Okay…" Dani had no idea where this was going.

"They'd only have to process the S.A.K. if they needed DNA for a conviction. With Nathan gone, that's unnecessary. They're already assuming they know what happened to you based on the profile. So, let them think that."

"They'll assume it was Nathan. Close the case. And it's over."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows and nodded his head.

"What if they ask directly? We'd have to lie."

"Whatever you want to be said, I'll say it, Dani."

"Are you sure? Think about this, Malcolm. I mean really think about it. Falsifying a report is a fireable offense, at best."

"I have. If this is what you want, if this will do anything to help you cope with everything that has happened. All you have to do is say the word."

Dani deliberated for a moment staring, unfocused at Malcolm's bed.

"Is this what you want, Dani?" he asked her.

She nodded her head, "Yes."

"Okay."

Malcolm practically bounded up the front stairs of the precinct. Even though he was running on less than two hours' sleep, when he entered the bullpen of the Major Crimes Unit his face lit up like a Christmas tree. A month away from his happy place, felt like an eternity. The first half of his mandatory leave was spent attempting to recuperate from his various injuries either in bed or seated uncomfortably on his couch. The inability to sleep made that astonishingly difficult. On top of that, his night terrors were back in full force. The Surgeon and the horrors of what he had done only made the occasional appearance, though. Now, his rest was inhibited by visions from their captivity. Every time he closed his eyes he saw what he'd done to Dani, the tortures Nathan forced upon him, the moment his heart had stopped and everything faded into darkness, the way Dani felt wrapped around him. The images haunted him day and night. No escape. It was taking a substantial toll on his already weary body.

The last half of his leave was in some ways even more difficult to tolerate than the first. He started to feel much better, physically, and without that pain to distract him, all that was left was the psychological turmoil. He'd been visiting Dr. Le Deux frequently since his release from the hospital, but he was afraid she would report them if he confessed the full truth of what had happened with Nathan. It turns out, psychotherapy doesn't help much when you can't talk about the worst part of your suffering.

He missed the team. He missed the cases. He missed Dani. Shortly after they made their decision in the hospital room, Gil came in to check on Malcolm. He was overjoyed to see the profiler awake and talking. After a short chat, Gil insisted that Dani give her statement, and she said goodbye to Malcolm and left. He hadn't seen or heard from her since she exited the room, four weeks ago.

Dani's absence hurt more than any of his physical wounds ever could. She was his best friend, or at least she had been prior to everything. Twelve times during his leave he had picked up his phone with the intention to call her, but when he imagined how the conversation would go, he couldn't get past 'Hi'. What could he possibly say to her? Where could he even begin to try and attone for what he had done? The thought of seeing her today genuinely frightened him. He still had no idea what he would say to her or if she would even want to speak to him. He just needed to see her, to make sure she was okay, or as okay as they could ever be again.

He raised his hand to knock on Gil's office door. Before he could connect, it swung open and Gil almost ran into him.

"Hey! Perfect timing. We've got a body. J.T. and Dani are already en route."

For the first time in over a month, Malcolm was genuinely happy.

When they arrived on the scene, CSIs were already collecting evidence, dusting for prints, and taking copious photos of the scene. Dani was outside of the building, notepad in hand, interviewing the man who found the body. Malcolm stepped out of the car and tried to look as calm and collected as he possibly could, when internally he was nervous ball of anxiety. Dani glanced at them quickly as they walked by, but didn't speak. Given that she was mid-discussion with a witness, Malcolm didn't think anything of it.

Once they entered the warehouse, Malcolm immediately entered profiler male victim was lying on the floor, in the centre of a ten-foot inverted pentagram, his limbs extended toward the points. Malcolm leaned in as close as he could without disturbing the scene. The male had been stabbed multiple times in the torso. Malcolm's hand subconsciously touched his left side near his own stab wound. He closed his eyes. "JUST DO IT, DANI!" echoed in his ears. Malcolm shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the memory.

J.T. was standing at the bottom of the pentagram near the victim's head. Large candles were placed at each of the star's points and strange swirling symbols were drawn in black all around it. Malcolm bent down next to one of the symbols to examine it. They weren't actually drawn. They were ashes, carefully arranged into the detailed patterns.

"Satanic Ritual?" Gil asked.

"The killer certainly wants us to think that," Malcolm replied. "In reality the number of ritualistic murders in the US every year is miniscule."

'So you don't think this was a ritual?"

"I'm not sure yet. But statistically, the odds say no."

Malcolm walked to the opposite side of the pentagram and continued investigating the design of the symbols. As he did, another car pulled up to the warehouse. Two middle-aged men in suits stepped out of the vehicle and headed toward the warehouse entrance. Dani moved to question their presence and they flashed their badges at her, while continuing to walk. She watched them for a moment before continuing her interview.

Gil turned toward the men as they approached, "Can I help you, Gentlemen?"

The taller of the two responded, "Yes, I believe you can." He extended his hand, "I'm detective Jonathon DeMarco. This is my partner Derek Messer." The second man raised his hand in introduction.

Gil shook the detective's hand. "You here about this?" he asked, gesturing to the crime scene.

"Actually, no. We're looking for your consultant, Malcolm Bright. We were told he was on scene."

The sound of his name broke Malcolm's investigative trance. He turned his head searching for the source and slowly rose from his crouched position.

Gil turned to look at Malcolm, then back at the detectives, "That's him. What's this about?"

The men ignored Gil's question and walked past him toward Malcolm.

"Are you Malcolm Bright?"

"Yes," he replied. "What can I do for you?"

"Please turn around," Detective DeMarco requested.

"What? Why?" Malcolm replied, genuinely confused.

"You're under arrest."

Malcolm was frozen in shock. "For what?"

Gil rushed toward them. Detective DeMarco moved behind Malcolm, pulled each of his arms behind his back, and cuffed them. "For the rape of your partner, Dani Powell."