Later that same day, I lie at home on the couch.

I felt horrible. Just flat out horrible.

I closed my eyes once more and a sigh escaped my lips. I felt her gentle touch on my lower arm and I barely reacted. She knew I was in pain and she'd come home with me for the night and possibly longer if I kept this up.

I hated not being able to not show my pain. It made me feel completely out of control and I didn't like to see the hurt in her eyes that I always saw when she knew I was in pain.

I was on the couch in my apartment because I'd been way too exhausted to even think about walking all the way to the bedroom. That's pretty sad, huh?

Like I've said time and time again, the man you see before you is only a shadow of his former self.

I've lost weight, probably a bit of that is me losing some of my muscles. And a whole lot of me losing heart. I am not as strong as I used to be. Sid can't tell me I'm just not as young anymore. I'm literally not as strong. It doesn't help that I was shot only two years ago.

Like I give a fuck anymore anyways.

Stella came back to New York to help us out when Jo left. I sent her and Ellie away in a desperate attempt to keep one of my closest friends and her daughter safe. I'm not sure I made the right decision now.

I do think I'm sick. With what? Who the hell knows and who the fuck cares?

Easy on the cussing, Taylor, I scold myself, opening my eyes just slightly before I close them again. Just lying here is taking my strength. It's like it's hard to breath.

I swear this war will be the death of me. Hell, it may even be the death of the only family I've known for years. Ever since 9/11…my team has been my only family.

I sent Christine away too. What the fuck?

With time to think about it, I think by doing that I fucked up the rest of my life. She's probably worried out of her mind about me, but I sent her away anyways and I haven't contacted her in a month and a half.

Yeah. Screwed that up.

Stella has a cool cloth on my forehead now. Guess she thought I was running a fever. It feels like I am, but how should I know? I can't even think straight so what am I to give any sort of opinion on my medical stuff.

Stuff…huh…good word, Taylor. There I go scolding myself again. Damn, I'm messed up.

Finally, I start to fall asleep. Key word, start. I never fell fully asleep as a jab of pain shot through me and I winced, raising my head and gritting my teeth.

Stella's there, just like I would expect her to be. She has a hand on my shoulder and I can see the concern in her eyes.

I lay back down, trying to ignore the nagging question of what's truly wrong with me. This is something I've never experienced or seen before and Stella hasn't either. It's got me worried, and I know she's worried about me.

Maybe it had something to do with that knife…

I shake my head a bit. No…or…could it?

I sigh and I force myself to relax as Stella continues to remain by my side.

"You know…I won't ever be able to pay you back for this one, Stell…"

My voice sounds rough, even to me. Something's definitely wrong with me.

"Shhh…don't worry about that, Mac," Stella soothes. I can only compare her voice to that of my mother's when I was sick as a kid. I look back at her, licking my dry lips and struggling to keep focused on what I want to tell her.

"I'm sorry…sorry for everything…" I say. Talking to her is seriously draining my strength, but I have to tell her what I want to tell her. What I know must be said if I'm never going to have the chance to tell her later.

"Don't be," Stella said. She has somehow managed to keep her voice calm, but I can see she wants to beg me to stop. I can see it her eyes. I sigh one more time and I can already feel my breathing's a little off. Whether she hasn't noticed or she's just hoping she's imagining things, I can't be sure.

"No," I say stubbornly. I'm not about to let her keep me quiet now. She needs to know that I never meant to yell at her all those years ago, I was just so concerned about her.

I loved her. She was like a sister to me. I needed to tell her…

I coughed and Stella had a hand on my shoulder. I looked back at her, feeling like I was a bit better after that although there was concern written clearly in my "younger sister's" face.

"Stella…I never told you that I loved you," I finally get out. I watch her reaction as I take in another shaky breath. She has a soft smile on her face. "You were always like a sister to me…more than a great friend…you knew me better than anyone," I added and watch as she quickly wipes tears from her eyes.

I think they were tears of happiness. "I know," she tells me softly.

There. I said it. I can let myself rest a bit now, or try to at least.

"You just rest," Stella tells me. Then I hear her softly add, "Big brother." I manage a smile as I close my eyes, ready to at least try and sleep.

With her by my side though, I can't. She reminds me of all those times we did cases with each other.

Especially of the time I followed her to Greece. That was a plane ride! It was somewhat strange to be in a whole other country, trying to work with that police…

So many memories…of better times in this world, when the sky wasn't always gray and when dark colored clouds didn't constantly hug the city.

Of times when there was at least a little bit of decency in the general public.

Those were the days I missed. The days when our jobs meant something. Not a lot of people knew how much it meant to CSIs like me when someone tells us "thank you."

It made the job worthwhile. So very, very worthwhile.

Now that that sort of thing rarely happened, I realized how much my job meant to me. I had been able to give closure to victim's families.

Closure was something I'd never had the luxury to have when the woman I loved the most was killed.

Damn. I missed her.

The thought of her nearly brought tears to my eyes now. This world was so lost in chaos that it nearly made me sorry that it seemed no one could possibly know such a strong love between someone.

There were still people here in New York City that knew such a thing as love. Those were the people the renewed my faith in humanity.

Another stab of pain shot through me and I grimaced, my jaw clenched against the almost constant pain. My problem was that I had physical and emotional pain.
They were all right. I was a pain in the ass for not telling them some things I know now that I should have. Such a pain in the ass I was, and so stubborn!

Huh. I used to be stubborn. Wonder where the hell that went? Drained. Drained out just like my strength because that's what kept me going. My stubbornness was kind of the only thing I really had to hide behind most of the time.

The truth of that stings. I still feel Stella's hand on me and from the emotions I think I'm picking up on from her, she knows that the worst is probably really near for me and I know it as well.

It scares her and worries her. I force myself to look up at her and I also have to force what I intend to be a somewhat comforting smile.

I receive a smile in return, but it looks as forced as I know mine must've looked. Not because I was a careless person, it was because I had to force that smile through the pain. Through heartache after heartache.

I finally start to fall asleep. Sleep is a welcome thing at that moment, but as I start to drift off to sleep, I still know Stella is beside me, her hand still rested reassuringly on my arm…almost like she was warning me that she needed me to wake up.