Chapter 14: Just when I'd given up dreaming

A/N: well when writing this chapter I had a song in mind so if you type this title 'just when I'd given up dreaming' on the usual 'tube' you should get a nice smacked vid, which goes well with this chapter.

Again thanks a lot to all who continuously review, and all who put this story in fav or even for reading. So here is the next part of DCI...

Summary: presumed loss, Mac has been found. But he now has to deal with the aftermath of memory loss and stress. Stella and the team steps up to help, while his nemesis are looking to get to him. Angsty Smacked...team friendship. CHAP 14 UP!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, besides the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

He shifted against her and she tightened her hold, her lips tight. Lying on the bed, and half propped up on her pillow, Stella gazed silently at Mac nestled in her arms, and strangely too still compared to his rough night. She could only see half of his face as it was buried against her shoulder, but from the small tremors still coursing his body, she knew he was in pain. Her heart heavy, her eyes met the first rays of light piercing through the curtains and shining on the bed. Lazily, her fingers brushed through his damp hairs and she sighed. They were damp from his running fever that hadn't left him all night, and it seemed it wasn't going down. Stella closed her eyes as Mac moved in her arms and let escape a faint groan. Probably too tired for more. Her lips tight in worry, her hand gently stroked his naked back. She felt his tensed shoulders stiffening from what she assumed another bad memory resurfacing in his mind. Looking down, she saw he had moved slightly, allowing her to see his face. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the torn, sweaty features bathed by the early sun. A small tear escaped her eye and welled down her cheek as a silent offering to heal his pain.

All night he had restlessly tossed and turned. His muscles had tensed, and he had shifted against her. Even moaned weakly from the mental pain she couldn't heal. Tenderly, she dropped a warm kiss on his burning forehead and was satisfied when he finally relaxed a little in her arms as if he was surrendering to her. The thin opening of his eyes peered toward her as if he could see her through his glassy haze. She sighed. All night she had wondered if he was really seeing her, but had finally assumed it wasn't as only a solitary tear had rolled down his cheeks, and now she knew. He wasn't really looking. Maybe seeing her once in a while but most of the times, his eyes weren't moving, only there to make her remember that he was still here; alive. She let out a small sigh. She had tried to wake him up every time she was thinking he was in a bad dream. But after three tries, he had remained out of her reach, his mind lost in the labyrinth of his pain. And she had been just unable to help him. He let out a small grunt and his face slid softly along her throat and to her chest. His lips let escaped a weak moan of pain followed by a small whimper and then silence enveloped them again. She could see how restless he was and hoped that time would give him a little peace. All night she had prayed for at least a small hour of him free from his pain. But nothing had worked.

She sighed and was finally rewarded as she felt him going limp in her arms. And then, his breathing became regular and steady. Finally. He was sleeping. Finally, his mind had given up the fight and had given in to a real sleep. At least it was something, she tried to comfort herself. She was grateful she had warned Danny that they might not show up at the lab today. And seeing the time it had taken Mac to fall asleep, she didn't dare to make a move, afraid of waking him up. She was tired herself, but tried to remain awake as she watched with concern, his face slowly relaxing. She swallowed the knot in her throat and softly stroked his naked back, pressing his body against her to keep him close. Slowly, she hummed a small song she had learned as a kid and the tension in his muscles began to fade too. She let out some of her frustration and relaxed herself as he wasn't moving anymore. She shifted slowly to get in a better position and felt immediately his arms tightening around her as if he was afraid she would leave him.

"I'm here, Mac," she whispered softly to reassure him she wouldn't leave. His tight hold relaxed a bit. "I'm not leaving you, Mac. Never."

Her cheek brushed gently against his spiky hairs as she dropped a warm kiss on his damp temple. His rising chest lowered its quick pace and his face pressed deeper into the crook of her shoulder.

"Stell," he murmured, his voice wobbling and his eyes still closed.

She swallowed her pain at seeing him so weak and her arms tightened instinctively around him. "Shhhh," she soothed as she continued her humming and slowly brushed his damp nape. She could hear his beating heart echoing against her and after sometime, it beat slowly in rhythm with hers. She smiled and closed her eyes. Her arms wrapped around his weak frame, she let herself fall into a deserved sleep too.

xxx

The sun was high in the sky. And for once for the past week, its warm rays were shining all over the city. Danny gazed at the yellow streaks going down, knowing that this small sun wasn't going to last.

"Hey," called Flack from behind.

Danny turned and nodded to his friend as he joined him in Mac's office.

Flack looked around as his friend went to sit on the couch; a pile of files before him. "What's that?" he said pointing at the files.

Danny looked at Don with concerns. "Old cases Mac had worked on."

Flack raised his brows. The pile was impressive at least thirty files were on the small table. "All of them are people that could have wanted Mac dead?" He asked bewildered.

Danny shook his head and frowned. "Actually, it's only a part. The others are in my office, but Stella said I should use Mac's office to be able to replace them." He sighed. "There's a lot of paper to sign every day, so it's why I'm here. The staff finds me easily here. I had no idea Mac had that amount of work added to cases. It's just amazing all the things he was doing."

"Well, he wasn't going home a lot too," quipped Don with a small sigh.

Danny looked down almost defeated. "Yeah, but now he doesn't even remember where home is," he added bitterly.

Flack tightened his lips and glanced at Mac's desk. "Why didn't you sit behind his desk?"

Danny sighed and his eyes connected with Flack, worry lingering in his crystal, blue eyes.

"You know Mac is coming back Danny boy," said Flack, trying to reassure his friend. "Things are going to be fine."

Danny stood up and hobbled to the window. He stared at the sun piercing over the shining towers in an unconscious mimic of his boss. He sighed and stuffed his free hand in his pocket, the other leaning heavily on the handle of his cane. "Something's off Don," he dropped, his back to his friend. "Mac... Mac..." His head sagged before him.

"I Know, Danny. But he will come around as he always does," Don finished.

Danny turned to his friend with a worried pout. "I got Stella last night and her voice was... She was worried, Don." He tightened his lips. "I've never seen Stella so worried, Don. No, Mac isn't fine. He's far from it. Yesterday, he called me by my last name and..."

Flack sighed. He couldn't tell his friend about Mac's condition, but surely he wasn't going to let him depress too. He knew Mac, and whatever were the odds, his friend would make it. He knew that. Mac was a fighter, no matter how long the road would be, he would make it to the finish; it was Mac. "C'mon Danny, look at you," provoked Flack, his hand pointing at Danny.

Danny looked up, not understanding his friend right away.

"What were the odds the doc gave you for your legs? Huh? 30 percent, 10 percent, and now look at you. You're walking again, right?" pushed Don with a small smile.

With a deep sigh, Danny nodded. "You're right," he let out with a weak smile.

"Of course I'm right. Mac has like nine lives. But he needs us to help this time." Don gave a broad smile to his friend. "So what did you find?"

The worry in Danny's look disappeared to be replaced by a small light of hope. Don was right, and he couldn't let his feelings get in the way. That's what Mac had always taught him. Taking a deep breath, Danny cleared his mind and focused his thoughts on Mac's case and not on his frind. Stella would look after him, and she was hoping the team would get answers for Mac; so it's what he would try to get.

"So far, the explosives used at Medriano's place are the same used where you and Stella found Mac." Danny shivered as he remembered Mac's face before he was wheeled inside the ambulance, but then he shaved the hurting memory as he looked up at Don. "Lindsay found the same traces on the bathtub we pulled from the wreck. As for the blood we got from there." He tightened his lips. "A lot of the samples belonged to Mac, some to the man now at the morgue."

"The man at the morgue?" Flack seemed to think a moment. "So the man killed by the stab, could be by Mac?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah, and there's evidence that both struggled near the bathtub as Lindsay found saliva from our mystery man on it and Mac's DNA all inside." He sighed. "We think he was cuffed but somehow freed himself or at least one hand." He looked down and sighed deeply. "Mac probably wrestled his kidnappers. At one point, something exploded and the building collapsed, with Mac and that guy inside."

Flack looked stunned at Danny, the hard reality sinking into his brain.

"Yeah, he got a lot of damn luck," continued Danny as he saw the realization dawning in Don's eyes. "I just don't know how he made it without anything broken besides a few ribs."

Don tightened his fists. "We'll find those thugs, Danny," he stated, anger simmering behind his words, and his eyes sending flames against who had dared to try to take out one of their own.

"I know. But with Medriano out, we can count that they were at least two against Mac." He sighed. "And one of them, he's still out there, and probably waiting for Mac to drop his guard. The hell, there can be even more of them, Don! How do we find them, Don? How do we protect our own, how do we help Mac?" Danny's voice rose ashis hand went tiredly to brush his hair.

Don sighed, unable to find a satisfying answer for his friend. "We'll find a way Danny. We'll find something." He looked at Danny, and prayed inwardly that they would quickly find a clue to help Mac.

xxx

Mac was in the dark again. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around him but nothing worked, he was still cold. Abandoning the idea of getting warm, he walked through the darkness as angry voices pierced around him. They were mixed and blurred and reminded him of a bug's nest, but why so much anger and hatred? His heart accelerated and he turned to see if he could see something, anything but that darkness. But there was nothing around him. A freezing wind grazed his skin and this time he felt too cold to move further, as if his legs were frozen, so he stopped his walk. He cuddled on himself, his legs brought to him, but nothing worked. The cold darkness was still sneaking under his skin, making him shiver even more. He was getting desperate to get warm when something changed around him. The darkness slowly faded and he felt arms, warm arms around him. What was that?

Then, his vision adjusted and light slowly pierced through the gloomy veil that surrounded him. The warmth grew stronger and soon he was wrapped in a cocoon of soft heat. He relaxed and the thick haze covering his eyes faded too. Before him, two bright emeralds were gleaming towards him like two shining beacons. He was free, he realized as he could now move and feel everything around him. And especially the soft, warm body pressed against him.

"Mac?" the emerald eyes talked. "How you feelin'?"

Stella watched with concerns as Mac slowly woke up. It was late in the day and she hadn't really moved from her place nestled against him. First, afraid it would wake him up, and two, wanting more than anything to feel him alive beside her and not going back into another of his all too vivid nightmares.

She smiled as his eyes opened slowly from his restless night. Two thin lines appeared first on his face as he was trying hard to come around. Her arms had tightened around him to let him know that he was on safe ground, and shehad the impression that his sight was clearer now.

"Mac?" she called again, beginning to worry as he hadn't acknowledged her.

His eyes opened a bit more and now she could see the green of his ocean eyes mixed with the crystal blue peering anxiously towards her. His sight was weak, but still, it was the best news since last night. She saw a small light sparkled behind his look as he was fighting whatever had sunk him down all night. He was surfacing, and she hoped they would be able to talk about it; this way, next time she would really be able to help him and not just watch him sunk powerless.

He swallowed hard as his throat was dry. "Stell?" he murmured, his voice hoarse, and barely a whisper. He closed his eyes as if the effort had cost him too much.

"Yes," he heard the voice say. "How you feelin', Mac?" continued Stella.

" 'Kay," he whispered. He felt her fingers grazing at his nape and slowly realized where he was; his position and condition. The heat was coming from Stella's body where he was nestled against and her arms around him were carefully keeping him warm and protected. He blinked trying to shave the last remnant of sleep.

"Where...?" He began. "Where am I?"

"You're in my apartment Mac. You remember?"

He frowned and his head left her warm shoulder as he took a glance around him. Tired, his head slowly dropped back against her chest with a small sigh. "Not really. What happened?"

"You fell asleep in the bath and..."

"Bath? What was I doing in...?" His brows quirked in a questioning look.

"You don't remember it?" she asked with concerns.

"I remember heading toward a building, and..." He sighed, a small headache piercing behing his forehead. "It's a bit confusing. I think I was in a cave..." his voice trailed off as he felt her chest move against him. "What am I doing in your apartment, Stell?"

She frowned, afraid he had lost more time. "You..." she swallowed lightly. "You spent the last two days here, Mac, don't you remember?"

His heart raced in his chest, and he tried to move but his whole body was hurting. "Why are we... I mean did we?" he said as he managed to rise on his elbows to look at her. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks as he realized that maybe he had forgotten more than just a day. Had he spent the night with her? Did they...? No he would remember if they had... He couldn't finish his thoughts as he stared at her in total loss of words.

She smiled lightly. "Nothing happened if that was your question, Mac. But yesterday you had... you had a real bad time, and..." She sighed. "You wanted that I... I mean you..." she locked her eyes with his as she shifted to see his face.

He frowned and bit his lower lip, somehow disappointed. "So we didn't...?"

"No," she confirmed. She offered him a small pout of remorse. "You had a hard time this night, and I just remained to help you sleep, which didn't really happen."

"You stayed all night?" He couldn't believe what she was saying. They had spent the night together and he had no memory of it? He blushed slightly, and relaxed slowly against her, his head softly falling back on her shoulder. "But why am I...?"

"Oh that," she said pointing at his bare chest with a small grin. "You were drenched from sweat and my apartment isn't very warm at night, so I had to undress you."

His cheeks reddened even more. If Stella had taken care of him, it meant he had been in a real bad shape. But why couldn't he remember? Slowly, he pulled away, and sat back on his feet. The sheet covering his back slowly glided from him, and he stared at Stella for a minute. "Thanks," he said, giving her a faint imitation of his charming smile.

She smiled back even though she could see his weariness weighing on his slumped shoulders. "You're welcome partner."

He smiled back at the 'partner' word she had given him, and glanced toward the window. The sun was half way in the sky, although thick clouds were back to hide it.

"What day is it?"

She frowned. "Mac, it's Friday. You sure you alright?"

"I just have a hard time remembering the things that happened. I think I remember a lunch with you, and we were at work." He frowned, his hand tiredly rubbing his forehead. "But the rest is kinda a blur..."

A faint smile grazed her lips. This lunch happened two days before he disappeared in the ruins, though he could remember any of their numerous lunches. "It's great if you remember that. What else?" She couldn't contain her joy. It meant Mac was coming around, finally. A small smile played over her lips.

"Not much. I saw us in the Lab. I think it was in my office but beyond that point things are really messy." He sighed and looked at her his lips tight. "Sorry."

Her lips tight, she mustered all her strength. "It's something, Mac. At least you remember now."

He nodded, hoping she was right.

"You know I was thinking that we should go see Dr Shen today," she said as she sat and realized Mac had tensed at her words. "Just for a small check up. And you did reopen your stitches." She pointed at his chest and the white dressing smeared with crimson spots.

For a minute he looked at her. In the back of his mind something didn't want to trust her. But the image of her eyes, being the first thing he had woken up to, and her warmth, the only thing that had helped him shave away the darkness surrounding him, were the reminder of how much he had needed her last night. Even if he wasn't remembering it, her body pressed against his and her way to take care of him had made a difference, he knew it. He swallowed slowly. And he had to admit it felt good to be with her. Even if waking up in her arms had been awkward at first, it had felt right, as if he belonged there. Weird, right? He sighed inwardly. She had been right about his work and his identity so why not trust her more? After all he wanted to. He wanted to be with her. His shoulders sagged lightly.

Stella stared at Mac, wondering if he was going to accept her advice this time. Things had been pretty tensed between them, but one thing had been sure from this night: he needed her and had even called her by her name several times. This meant that their bond was still alive. And deep down, she couldn't help but feel her old partner trying to find his way back; fighting all he could to get back, and she admired him for that. Only he, could go that deep and come back almost untouched, well she hoped he wouldn't bear any stigmas after that. She sighed inwardly, but they were still far from the point where he would be really fine.

"Okay," he muttered slightly. "Okay, we'll go."

Yes, he was coming back. Her eyes gleamed in hope at his answer. She smiled warmly and looked at his disheveled appearance. His chest was still glistening from the sweat his fever had constantly wet him, and the dark bags under his eyes were the clear signs that she was right; he hadn't slept at all. "You want to take a quick shower while I prepare us something to eat?" She pushed gently.

He swallowed and looked down at his appearance. His stitches were hurting like hell, and he was shivering from the cold sweat still damping his body. He didn't want a shower as it meant more pain and draining his strength quickly. But seeing her look, disheveled, she might need him to give her a break, some time off his pissed off state where he had pushed her lately. Hell, she had probably spent all night by his side to watch over him. He frowned, not sure it was the best way for him to appear strong with her. But what was done was done. He sighed and slid down from the bed, his face grazed by a small wince. His eyes locked with hers for a moment. "Okay." Was all he could say right now.

She smiled, happy that he was in such a good mood today, even if he wasn't talking too much. With a warm look she exited the room and left him alone.

He sighed deeply and followed after her, heading toward the bathroom. After closing the door behind him, he glanced at the mirror. His disheveled face appeared to look back at him. The left side of his face was still dark from his old bruises and he looked down, concerned by the weak frame he was appearing; his growing stubblenot helping to light his face. The night had been a hell round of images of things that right now he couldn't really put together. As much as he tried, he was always coming up with pain, and angry dirty faces smiling wickedly at him just before more pain would hit him. But that was all. The rest was a blur, and somehow he was glad for it. He didn't want to remember that. It was hurting too much. Tired and already drained, he undressed with small winces and stepped inside the shower, giving a dark look at the bathtub. He knew something had happened here last night, but that too was a blur in his mind. Though the red spots here and there were signs that someone had bled. Probably him, he deduced bitterly, and seeing the utter look of pain in Stella's eyes, it probably hadn't been a happy moment. He swallowed and turned on the water.

Slowly, the warm liquid slid along his body and he began to relax. His stitches hurt at the contact of the water, but the heat was good. He smiled weakly, Stella had been right again, he needed that shower. Pressing his forearms against the wall, he leaned forward, his forehead on his arms and let the warmth wrap around him as he closed his eyes and delighted in the heat. He swallowed remembering, now, Stella's warm arms and her soothing voice. His felt his tension fading at the memory of her voice, saying she wasn't going to leave him, never. A faint smile grazed his lips. He wanted it to be true, but somehow he could only think that she had said that out of pity again, because he needed her, not because her feelings were strong for him. No they were only partners after all. It wasn't as if they had been together before. He sighed but preferred to ignore those last thoughts. The fact that she had remained with him all night was the only thing he couldn't forget, and in truth, he didn't want to. From his wake up in this dark hole to now, it was the first good memory he would keep with him. Her perfume, her soft skin around him and her warm voice, all of these making him feel good, and almost home. And if he had complied so quickly at her demands, he knew it had to do with her spending the night with him.

Last night, she had made a connection with him that he couldn't deny, and he didn't want it to disappear. He let out a soft sigh of content at the memory of her emeralds gazing at him in concern this morning. He felt protected with her, so cared for that it was really hard to explain with words. Water kept dripping from his hair and to his face. At least he was free from his nightmares and that terrible night now.

xxx

Stella walked inside the kitchen and began to prepare a pot of coffee. Her lips tight, her thoughts turned toward Mac and the sound of the dripping water was the only thing reassuring her right now. Since last night, she was having a hard time leaving him alone, at least not consciously. Twice he had called her for help, and she couldn't suppress the idea that if she had remained with him after the first time, then things wouldn't have degenerated this way. And today maybe, he would have had a good night sleep and would have been able to remember more. But instead, she hadn't, and now he was drained. She could see it in his weary eyes, even though he had tried to smile this morning. No, he wasn't well at all, and she hoped that Shen would be able to give them some answers. Mac needed them. At least, maybe she would be able to talk to him about PTSD, and that Shen wouldn't make her keep it a secret any longer. She sighed, she just couldn't deny that hiding things from Mac was hurting more than she could admit it. She had done that once, and she could remember clearly how well it had gone when he had learned about what she had done to Diakos. No, she didn't want him to live the same thing again and think that she had lied consciously to him. Their friendship was too important to her.

She sighed and turned toward the main room, grabbing her cell phone to listen her messages. Danny had called and left a message around nine. Quickly, she listened to it. She sighed as she hung up. The news wasn't good, but at least they could link Medriano to Mac's car, and the building where they had found Mac since the explosives were the same than the one that had almost killed them yesterday. She went back to the kitchen and began to prepare a small breakfast for Mac. With his restless night, at least he needed to get some strength back. She set the table and was back grilling some bacon when she heard Mac's warm voice behind her. She jumped lightly as she had been deep in her thoughts.

"Sorry," he said as he realized he had come unnoticed to her, and had scared her.

She turned and smiled at him, her eyes taking notes of the slumping way he was standing, his left hand

carefully clutched at the doorframe. He was wearing his black t-shirt that clad so well to his chest, and she smiled inwardly, feeling some warm feelings heating her core. She had always loved that shirt and somehow the fact he was wearing it was like a message of hope telling her that the old Mac Taylor was coming back. She took a deep breath, hoping with all her heart that it was the truth.

"Sit, Mac," she encouraged him, her eyes gleaming warmly. "I'll be right back. You can take your pills while I finish cooking this." She turned to the oven.

Mac nodded and sat quietly at the table, looking down grimly at the small bottle of pills. Tiredly, he grabbed the bottle and took the necessary pills in his hands and stared at Stella's back. He bit his lower lip, and hesitated before he gulped down the glass of water and slid the pills inside his pocket. Stella turned toward him with a warm smile, and filled his plate with so many things that he wondered where on earth he was going to put that. He frowned, as she went back to the stove and he sighed inwardly. With all that she was doing for him, he wasn't so sure it was a good idea to hide things from her. But he knew from her reaction the day before that she was hiding something from him. And he should recognize that his memory was getting better without those pills. Which was still an unanswered question; what was inside besides the painkillers that she wanted him to take if his memory was back without them?

Stella sat across from him with a smile. She was happy to see that this morning, even though the night had been hard on him, he seemed to be complying and following her advice. She looked at him as he took his fork and began to eat a piece of the eggs she had filled his plate with. Of course, she wasn't expecting him to eat it all. Mac had never eaten that much. But yet, seeing him doing normal things was bringing more joy that she could have ever imagined. She tightened her lips and sipped the black liquid from her cup. Now was going to be a tough subject, but she needed to tell him. So she took a long breath and stared at him seriously.

She raked her throat to get his attention, and he looked up. When his green, ocean eyes connected with hers, she finally began to speak. "I talked to Dr Shen on the phone, and he would be ready whenever we go today. But I think we should go early." She sighed, dreading the next subject. "Though it's almost 2pm already. And then, I can have someone from the lab over there to process you."

Mac cringed at her words. Although the word 'process' was familiar to him, a terrible image printed before him. He could only see pieces of it, but it looked like a woman. Her knees brought to her chest, she was sat on a bed and dressed with a hospital gown. She was trying as much as she could not to cry. But he could see her hands trembling and shaking as she was holding some kind of glass. He felt his own hand patting her shoulder as to comfort her, and his heart was torn in small pieces at her torment. He tried to see her face, but it was hidden in a blur. His gut twitched madly inside as if he knew her, as if this scene had triggered a terrible memory. A memory with someone he clearly cared about. But who was it? He took a deep breath and the image disappeared almost immediately. He frowned not sure of what he had seen. But his gut had reacted on it, and it was now churning madly as if someone had stabbed his heart. He felt sick and wondered if it was due to the perspective of being processed himself or the image of that woman, defenseless and needing him.

"Mac, you okay?" asked Stella seeing him losing his color and turning white.

He shook his head, breathing slowly. He swallowed back the memory, not wanting to scare her. "Yea, why process me now?" He asked, jumping quickly on the next question his mind had. If he remembered correctly, processing a witness or anyone, had to be done right after the events.

She bit her lower lip and set the coffee cup on the table. "Well, you weren't really easy to talk to when... everything happened... and well..." her voice trailed off. "I must admit, I was so glad you were okay and alive that we kinda bent the rules to give you some space and privacy so that you could adjust to your new conditions." She bit her lower lip. Usually her old friend wouldn't have wanted them to bend the rules for him. But sometime, she was afraid he was going too hard on himself. So this time, and considering his state, she had preferred to give him a small break. His clothes had quickly been brought to the lab, and whatever particulates he had on him had been washed away by the cold mud she had found him in. So really, it wasn't much that needed to be processed, but Mac himself.

He shook his head, realizing that his new condition was him, biting the head off of everyone when he had woken up. Yes, he hadn't been easy on anyone. "Thanks." He pointed at her full plate. "You're not eating?"

She stared at him, surprised he was taking it so lightly. "Not really hungry this morning."

He smirked. "Seems to be every morning since I'm here," he said bitterly. Somehow he had the feeling she was worried about something else.

She frowned. "I thought you didn't remember?"

"Well, things came back when I was in the shower; I don't know maybe it was the water or well, but I do now," he paused and looked at her with remorse. "You would have liked me to tell you that before maybe." He sighed, hoping he hadn't hurt her this way. "Sorry... I..." He sighed inwardly. Of course he should have told her. What was he thinking? It was obvious that she was worried for him.

"Ah, it's okay, Mac." She offered him a warm smile, happy that finally his memory from the last couple of days was back. "The important thing is that you're coming around and that your medication works too," she finished trying to sound hopeful.

"Sure." He nodded bitterly, feeling the small pills nestled in his pocket. They do work fine, his mind added with suspicions.

She stood up and dropped her mug in the sink. "Well, I'm gonna take a quick shower before we go. If you need something you call, okay? I don't think I'll be in it for long but..."

He smiled shyly. "It's okay, take your time. I'll be fine." He pointed at the plate before him. "I'm gonna need sometime to swallow all that." He quirked his brows. "Though I might give up sooner."

She shook her head with a warm smile, and gently patted his shoulder. "It's okay, just eat what you feel comfortable with, I'll clean up when I get back."

He watched as she headed to the bathroom. Alone in the kitchen, he picked at his food and swallowed a bit of eggs. Then, he let the fork rest on the side of the plate. He was full anyway. Silence enveloped him before he heard the sound of the shower dripping. Frowning, he realized it was the first opportunity for him to wander in her apartment. So, he stood up and walked to the main room. He didn't want to spy on her, but maybe things here or there could trigger his memory, and he didn't want her to witness him back in another nightmare, she had helped him enough already. Wincing as he walked, his right hand cuddled his side to protect the reopened wound. Before him, a large view of the towers appeared and a small sun was hidden behind them. It had been some time since he had really seen the sun, the winter sky always cloudy since he had woken up. He frowned with melancholy.

Carefully, he hovered toward the shelves on the right wall and gazed at pictures of Stella. On one of them, a large one, she was standing in a police uniform and smiling, obviously receiving her diploma. A weak smile appeared at the corner of his mouth at the sparkle he could see in her eyes. She seemed happy, and he had to admit, he hadn't seen her acting like that around him. He sighed and since he wasn't remembering anything like it, he wondered if he was the one to make her that sad and if she had ever smiled to him this way. Was he a bad friend? The kind she had to be there to always pick up the pieces? One that would never make her smile? A complete opposite to what his heart was feeling when he was with her. But he had to recognize that it was true, he had only seen her sad with him. He shook his head with bitterness. And last night she had only helped him to get through a tough time, nothing had happened as she had quickly mentioned, probably wanting to add that nothing would never happen. Friendship, she had said about their relationship, nothing more. His shoulders sagged heavily and he tightened his lips, feeling suddenly very much alone.

Pushing away the sad feeling, he continued to his left. It was a picture of a man with a grey beard. From his memory, a name popped suddenly as he was some kind of professor with a weird name. Poppa... something. He shook his head. She was related to him but the guy wasn't her father. No, it was close, though. He frowned, not sure why, but that memory was sending small shivers along his spine. Then another image came to his mind. It was a woman, she was crying, and one of her hands was covered in blood. Then, the next minute he was holding her, pulling her toward him. He smiled, remembering the warmth but again he couldn't see her face, and he began to feel frustrated. Clearly, it was the same woman that he had seen at the hospital and he seemed to have a special bond with her; always there when she was in trouble. He sighed, wondering who it was? Could it be Stella? He shook his head, wondering why his brain refused to show him the face of that woman.

The bathroom door opened and Stella walked into the main room with a genuine smile. "Still trying to remember?"

"Yes." He bit his lower lip. "I would like to go to my apartment today." He watched as she tensed and bit her lower lip. Her face tried to hide something and his stomach churned. He would have bet it was fear but the shadow behind her emeralds had been so quick that it was hard to really be sure of it.

She sighed. "After seeing Dr Shen, then. I think you should talk to him first."

He tensed even more. "What's going on, Stella?" he asked his voice a bit too harsh that he had intended. And when he realized the tone he had used he tried to soften his voice. "Why are we avoiding my place?"

She sighed, her arms slowly nestling around her frame. "Mac, I think it would be best you talk to Shen first, and then we can see what's the best option for you."

He raised his brows not believing what she had just said. "What do you mean by the best option?" He snapped angrily, his fists clenched at his sides. "You mean I can't decide what's best for me? Since when does that choice belong to you or Shen?" He voiced furious.

She bit her lower lip, seeing his face reddening. "I'm... I didn't mean... Mac I'm sorry I can't talk about this. I'd like to but..."

"You can't?" He bit back. Anger soared through his chest and head, his heart beating madly behind his ears. His knuckles went white at his sides as his fists clenched madly. The world around him started to blur and only the rage was pulsing beneath his heart, and flooding his veins. He breathed heavily, trying to calm down his heart rate. No, his mind screamed. He couldn't lose it like that. C'mon, Mac...! Let it go...! The hell...! He clenched his jaw as he darted a blazing glare toward Stella, fighting with his own mind and anger.

"You know what, forget it!" He finally snapped, his right hand shaving the air before him. He quickly walked back to his room, trying to put some distance between them. He opened and closed his fists, trying to control the rage inside him. "Let's go!" He growled from his room, as he entered to grab his jacket. With a small grunt, he slid it on and went back to the entrance, waiting for her.

"Mac your stitches have reopened." She frowned if he wasn't careful and with the event in the bathroom, she was sure it was already bleeding. "I should put a dressing over them before it hurts you again."

"No," he answered harshly. "I want to be done with that." He avoided her stare. He was angry now and the more he would look at her the more the rage would explode inside him. He clenched his fists his nails biting his flesh as he tried to control the burning rage threatening to submerge him. That anger was so irrational that it scared him. He took a deep breath, not sure he should stay with her right now as he wanted to break something, anything that could take that rage away. But the image of her eyes as he had woken up printed before him and a strong remorse surged in his mind. Why this rage? Why was he so angry at her? Why after all she had done?

Standing before the entrance door, and his back to her, her hand reached out to his shoulder and felt him going stiff. She stopped her move, suddenly afraid that he was really angry at her, and obviously he was.

"Please, Stell," she heard him whisper, his voice wobbling, not really looking at her.

"Mac I..." but his sad voice cut her off.

"I just want to go and be done with it, okay?" He said, his voice low as he was trying to soften his harsh tone.

Her lips tight in remorse, she nodded even though he couldn't see her. She grabbed her coat. She opened the door for them and as he exited, she locked the door behind them. Her gaze followed him as he was heading for the lift, not waiting for her.

Mac swallowed back his rage. Even if he could feel it burning inside his veins, he knew that something had to be wrong with him. No one should be that angry so easily. Something was wrong with him and if he wasn't careful, he was afraid he would hurt her, taking his rage on her. So no, it was time he took back some distance with her. It was better for her sake, and probably for his too. He felt her perfume as it invaded his senses as she stopped beside him, close to him. He shut his eyes, too close too him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly.

His fists tightened even more. Okay, she was hiding something from him, and it was related to his apartment, but he didn't want her to apologize as if she was scared of him. It wasn't her fault. And he hoped he would be able to control himself enough to never hurt her. His eyes firmly closed, he took a long breath. Something was wrong with him, and he could feel it. He could bet she hadn't slept all night because of him, and now he was making her feel even more miserable. Just what kind of monster was he to do that to her?

"Not your fault," he whispered, not daring to look at her.

Her eyes widened at Mac's whisper. She glanced toward him, and noticed that his right arm was back cuddling his side. He was probably hurting again. But why was he keeping her so far from him?

"Mac," she said softly as the doors opened before them. "I should look at your wound before we go." She tried again. She was worried for him. It wasn't him to snap like that, or even to try to control himself so much as she realized he was doing right now.

"I'll be fine, thanks." He sighed and stepped inside the lift. Wearily, he leaned back against the back wall, his left arm lazily lay over the railing. He gave her a small pout of remorse as she stepped and faced him, her sparkling eyes peering toward him.

His eyes avoided her. "Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped like that," he whispered in remorse.

She tightened her lips and leaned back beside his right side. Softly, their shoulders brushed at each other, and it reassured her that he wasn't trying to avoid her contact as the day before. Although he was still angry, at least she could stay close of him now. "It's okay, Mac. Things aren't easy for you right now. But I know you will get better."

He glanced at her, his lips tight in remorse. He hoped she was right, because right now, he wasn't feeling as if things were getting better for him. Not really. Gently, she snaked an arm around his and smiled as he didn't pull back. "I'm here to help," she said warmly.

He swallowed the knot in his throat, and let her warmth invading his body once again. Gently, he nodded and sighed deeply. "I know," he muttered tiredly.

The doors opened, and they walked side by side to the car. The winter cold instantly assaulted them, and Stella felt him shiver beside her. Even with his jacket on, she knew that he was in no shape to fight the freezing weather right now. So, as soon as they sat inside the car, she put the heat on and led the car into the traffic.

Mac watched silently as the frozen streets passed before the window, and his anger slowly subsided. And before he knew it, images of a frozen winter spent with people he didn't remember printed before his eyes. Some were smiling, while others were grinning wickedly, and he would see a snow ball coming at him fast. He took a deep breath and the images disappeared.

"Mac? You okay?" Stella asked as she had seen his hands tensed.

He sighed and glanced at her with a soft smile. "Just old things, I guess."

She nodded and took the direction of the hospital. At least his memory was back. He was seeing things, even if sometimes like last night it was close to a nightmare than something he should have really remembered. "We will be there soon," she said trying to reassure him.

He nodded silently and stared back outside, wondering when he would be back to his old self, and when he would be able to talk to her without feeling that awkward. He sighed inwardly, and stole a small glance toward her, especially after that night. He wasn't remembering all of it, but the soft contact of her body pressed against him was enough to make him warm. He had to know what was really going on between them. He had to.

xxx

Marty punched at the wheel and stared at the frozen street. These cops were getting closer to them. And Taylor was still alive. He clenched his jaw. Sooner or later the detective would remember more and he would be able to identify him, too. He tensed in the frozen car and a small cloud appeared before his mouth as he puffed his anger away.

Knowing Taylor's thoroughness for details, he would probably get a portrait of him in no time. He sighed hoping his boss knew what he was doing, because if the cops were getting too close, he wouldn't wait to take Taylor's life for good this time. He huffed in anger. Well, if only that chick would get far from him long enough to take the shot. Otherwise it was going to be pretty hard.

He shook his head as he stared at the small black and white screen where Messer and Flack had stood hours ago. Hopefully, he had other aces in his sleeve that he would be able to use against Taylor on time. But that didn't mean that things weren't going to heat up quickly if he wasn't checking up on him.

Suddenly, the black SUV left the parking lot, and he quickly took its tail. He narrowed his eyes. Again, it was the chick driving, which meant that Taylor wasn't up for it yet. He took a small breath and realized they were heading to the hospital. He nodded, that could mean the detective wasn't feeling well. Great! At least some good news, he hoped. But as the car pulled over into the parking garage of the hospital, he saw, with disgust, Mac and Stella getting out, their arms crossed with each others.

So he had been right. That chick was really close to him. And to see the looks he was giving her, he knew she was Taylor's sore spot. He smiled as an idea formed in his mind. He was fed up of waiting in this car and as soon as the boss would ask him to take Taylor out of the game, the cop would be dead. So thinking of the best way to get rid of him was a good alternative than waiting and doing nothing. He jumped out of the car and quickly followed after them. Maybe he could learn more about Taylor's state this way. And without Tommy to bother him, he was free of his moves.

xxx

Mac sat on the examining bed and wished Stella had stayed. Although it would have seemed awkward, he was just feeling better when she was around. And that doctor hovering near him was making him uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna need you to take off your jacket and t-shirt, Detective Taylor," said Dr Shen with a warm smile.

Mac stared back with a deep sigh and slowly complied. His jacket was the easy part, but it wasn't the same with his t-shirt, and he winced the moment it pulled on his stitches.

"That hurts?" enquired the doctor.

Mac shook his head tiredly. Of course it hurts! What kind of question was that? "Yes," he answered bitterly as he had finally taken off the black fabric.

Shen nodded. "Please, lay down, Detective."

Mac frowned but did as he was ordered and let his body slump down on the bed. He offered a small wince as his bruised body lay down on the sheets. Then, the doctor brought his giant light over him, and Mac tensed involuntarily. The doc bent over him to appear in his line of sight. Shen was wearing a surgical mask, and the whole scene was almost surreal. Mac swallowed feeling a bit dizzy. Cold fingers covered with gloves probed his sides, and Mac grunted at the firing pain shooting through his abdomen.

"Sorry," mouthed Shen through his mask. The surgeon frowned. "Are you taking your meds?"

Mac took a serious look to hide his lies. "Yea, why?" He asked on a defensivemode.

Shen stared back at Mac. "Well, you shouldn't feel the pain that much. I guess, I'll have to check the dosage."

A nurse entered and before he knew it, she was taking blood samples from his left arm. Mac took a small breath, feeling his anger soaring inside again. She hadn't even asked for it! He didn't like that. His left arm was trapped by a needle and the nurse, and the right was hindered by the pain coming from his side, due to Shen. He was trapped and defenseless, and a suffocating feeling of helplessness grew until he had to close his eyes in hope it would fade away. But the anger turned into rage, and soon he prayed for the nurse to leave before he exploded.

Finally, she put a small bandage where the needle had pierced his flesh and left, taking the samples of his blood away. He glared at her back, unable to contain his anger anymore.

"Are you done?" he spit angrily at the doc still hovering over him. Mac rose on his elbows, rage boiling inside him. He couldn't remain still now. He had to move, but the pressure applied by the doc's hands on his shoulders kept him on the bed. He glared at the doc.

Shen took a step back, and Mac had the disgusting feeling that the doc knew it was time to take a break from him as if he had become very dangerous. Shen nodded lightly.

"Not yet. I just need to get something to heal your wound, and it will be over. Be right back." The doc took off his gloves and tossed them in a medical bin. Mac watched as he left the small room without another word.

Letting a small sigh escaped his lips, Mac leaned back against the small pillow. He was drained; too drained to move anyway. He had only been up for a couple of hours, and he was already tired. That wasn't normal. He surely wasn't like that every day, or he would have never made it to the job he had. He sighed deeply, and stared angrily at his body betraying him. Part of his chest was still covered with a blue sheet used by the doc to sew his wound, and somehow he hadn't felt a thing after the probing, which was odd. Shen had probably used a local painkiller, but he had no memory of it, though he was too busy being angry after the nurse. He sighed, drained, and the bright light shining over him wasn't helping. He closed his eyes, trying to avoid the burning light for a second, and hoping it would give a rest at the throbbing headache pulsing beneath his temples. His head leaned back heavily against the pillow, and he had the curious impression he was sinking again or just floating. Where was Stella now? His mind wondered as he felt very alone in this room. Somehow he had to admit he missed her. His lips let escape a small sigh of weariness. Slowly, the world around him faded in a soft sound, and he never heard the doctor coming back as he was finally sound asleep.

...TBC

A/N: Well, this chapter is the first as Mac he's now trying to fight his way back with Stella. So I hope it worked out well, and that you all liked it. As always feel free to let me know what you thought of it, it helps me to adjust the story as well, and have a great week.