Chapter 15: This unbreakable thread

A/N: Okay, I'm back to my place, sadly vacations are over. Sniff,... lol, but here I managed to get this new chapter so I hope you'll all like it.

Again thanks a lot for your great reviews, the fav or even for reading. ENJOY!

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 15 UP!

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

Stella watched with worry as Shen exited Mac's examining room for the second time and stepped toward her. She instantly stood up and her worried eyes met Dr Shen.

"How is he?" she asked eagerly.

"He's sleeping right now. I guess he was too drained to win the fight." Shen gave her a reassuring smile. "I gave him something for the pain, just in case, so he should be okay today."

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean today?"

The doctor tightened his lips and took a stern look. "Well, seeing his state and how he was hurting when I examined him, I think his medication wasn't really working."

The words registered slowly in her mind. His medication wasn't working? Did he suffer without telling her?

The doc seemed to read her thoughts, and sighed. "I think the constant pain from his wounds had probably added to his irritability and tiredness." He showed Stella his office, and with a small nod she followed him to have more privacy than the hospital corridor.

As they stepped inside, and the door was closed, Stella felt her stomach tightened. Somehow, she had the bad feeling that he hadn't told her the bad news yet, or they would have stayed outside.

"I'm going to give you another prescription," continued Shen as he circled his desk. "And hopefully this time it will work better, though I'll wait for his blood results to come back first."

She frowned. "Why?"

He shook his head and sat in the large, leather chair. "I just want to check how they worked with him, nothing to worry about," he said softly as to dismiss her fears.

She sighed. "I have to tell him," she stated bluntly. The doctor raised a pair of concerned eyes to her, wondering if he had understood her correctly. "The fact that he's suffering from this stress disorder," she continued, her face deadly serious. "I have to tell him." She stared at the doc. "Things are getting very complicated for... us... to avoid subjects from his past and..." She sighed heavily. "... and he needs to know. He's my friend and I can't stand to see him struggling this way and doing nothjing to help!"

Dr Shen sighed, and shifted in his chair. "You are already helping him." He gave her a small pout. "I'm sorry Detective Bonasera, but as I told you before, he must recover his memory by himself, and with this stress added, if you were to tell him everything it would only add more to his confusion."

She smirked, her voice rising at the ironic situation and her eyes looked at the ceiling as if she was calling divinities to come to her help. "He's already confused!" She snapped a bit too harshly. Slowly she took a long breath, her shoulders sagging lightly. Her eyes wandered to her tight hands on her laps. "It took him sometime to acknowledge his real name, and realized that he's among the good guys." She stated, her voice breaking the silence as she stood up and began to pace the room. "And I'm not sure he's really convinced about all the work that he did for this city, or for others." She paused and looked at Shen, biting her lower lip. "And now he's having nightmares! Probably from his past, and I can't help him!" Her eyes misted slowly, and she bit her lower lip, trying to hold back tears. She knew she should keep herself together, and not break in front of Dr Shen, but it broke her heart to imagine Mac so lost and vulnerable. "I don't want to see him suffer more when I could do something to help," she finally dropped, her right hand running desperately through her golden curls. She sat and her shoulders sagged tiredly. She too was running out of energy. And she had no idea how long she would be able to cope with this before breaking. And what then? Who would be there for Mac if she was giving up too? Clenching her jaw, she looked up to meet Shen's concerned gaze on her. No, she couldn't break. Not now! Never.

"And what do you want to do?" proposed Shen with a soothing voice. "Do you think revealing sad moments would help him heal?" He pushed softly.

She swallowed the hard lump hindering her voice and raised her brows with concerns. "He's hurt! And he needs to know all the good things that he has done." She stood up and nervously paced his office again. "You...!" She said, her tone a bit accusing. "You can't understand the hole that he created between his old self and him right now! He thinks he's weak! He doesn't trust anyone! And he thinks he didn't deserve his place, or what he is. And I'm sure he got somehow the impression he let us down, that he should be someone else... someone stronger. He..." She struggled with the words as her eyes misted from the salty tears trying to find their way down her cheeks. "He can't see how strong he is already, and I don't know how I can help him see that!" She finally let out, desperate.

The doctor rubbed his small white beard. "What you are talking detective, are symptoms very common for PTSD patients. His nightmares, his irritability, changes of behavior proved it." He sighed. "But the good news is that if he's dreaming about his past, then his memory is back. So now it's only his PTSD that is in his way to be fine again."

She stopped pacing and looked at Shen bewildered. "You think PTSD, that stress hindered his memory?" She couldn't believe what he had just said. So Mac was remembering, but not the way he should? She frowned and looked at Shen.

He sighed. "It's what I tried to tell you before. You said that he remembers things, right?"

"Yes." Her eyes widened and her heart beat madly in her chest.

"Does he remember emotions or only facts?" enquired the doctor.

She thought a moment, remembering about Danny and Adam meeting Mac yesterday. Messer, Ross... he had used. Suddenly, she could see a pattern forming before her eyes. "I think only facts, why?" She frowned.

Shen shook his head and pointed at the chair before her to sit. "It's very common for people sustaining a trauma and suffering from stress disorder to shell their feelings away. It's a way to protect themselves from further trauma. They appeared then, cold and angry, as, in fact, boiling bottled up emotions are trying to surface inside. But it's like a volcano, it only explodes after something had triggered it, and until then, they can feel that rage and anger growing without real explanation." He sighed. "I wished I could give you clues on how he's going to react, but PTSD is particular to anyone. There's nothing specific despite the symptoms about it. One day everything is fine, and the next all is dark, and for the family or friends aroundit's hard to understand; and it's worse for the patients who feel unable to control their behavior." He pouted. "And that could remain for a long time. As long as he hasn't healed and dealt with what has caused the trauma, it's gonna be what he will do."

She felt her eyes misted again, thinking about Mac continuously struggling a solitary fight in his mind. So that's why he hadn't remembered a lot of things with her, only the working parts. She took a deep breath. "You mean his mind is blocking away his feelings, his heart?"

Shen nodded. "I'm afraid so. That's why he might appear a bit cold, and his excessive rage is coming from the same way. Something provoked his trauma, and as long as he hasn't dealt with it, then, it's gonna stay bottled up inside and will explode at the first provocation." He sighed. "Anything can trigger it, from a look, to a word or a touch, even a situation. That's why you can't tell him everything about his past. You could start on a happy memory and his mind would quickly drift back to an awful nightmare, hindering his recovery."

Stella stared at Shen in horror, and the doctor continued his warnings.

"No, we have to keep an eye on him and find the trauma that triggered it. Then, we will be able to take it, one step at a time and talk about it with him. Until then, he needs to stay calm, and I don't think revealing to him that he's suffering from PTSD will help. From the portrait you drew of him, I'm sure he would run toward things that could trigger more of these traumatic events to get his memory back sooner. Am I right?"

She frowned. It was true that Mac wouldn't accept defeat or the fact that stress or a bad event was hindering his progress. He would deny suffering from PTSD as well as he denies almost everything when he's not fine. Then, he would rush toward danger to provoke his memory, as always and things would get worse. Her lips tight, she nodded, thinking back at Shen's words. Situation, the word echoed in her mind as she frowned.

"He remained frozen yesterday after the explosion, was that due to...?" her words died in her throat as Shen nodded lightly.

"It could explain his nightmares then. What happened afterwards?"

She frowned. "Well, he just froze. A minute he was covering me to protect me and the next he was staring frozen at the corridor."

"What was he staring at?" asked Shen, intrigued.

"The door from where the explosion came, and one of our friends," replied quickly Stella, wondering where Shen was going.

Dr Shen pouted. "Did anything ever happen to that friend and Detective Taylor?"

Her eyes lighted in understanding, and she let out a small sigh. "Well, they've been both in an explosion few years back." She paused, comprehension sinking into her mind. "You think he relived it?" She slightly shook her head. Now that she was thinking about it, Mac's stare had remained stuck on Don. And when her friend had walked beside them, supported by a cop, Mac had given him a real odd look. One she was still pondering what he was trying to see or check with Don.

"I think it's probable." He stood up. "Well, I'm gonna check on your partner, and as soon as he awakes, I will talk to him and try to explain why you can't tell him everything. Would it be okay with you?"

She sighed relieved. "Thanks, it would help." At least this way she would have someone else to back her up, and Mac wouldn't believe she was just doing this to hinder his progress. Maybe they would be able to rebuild their trust this way.

xxx

Martin sneaked up quietly inside the hospital. He was intrigued by what the Detectives could be up to. The day before Taylor had showed up at work and even though he looked tired, he was really determined to get to Tommy. He and the chick had avoided the explosion, and none had seemed hurt at the time. Well, even if Taylor had given his gut out in that little street. So what were they doing here? Had he been really wounded the day before? He smirked, even if it wouldn't be too appreciated by the boss at least it would weaken Taylor, and maybe give him the opportunity to settle a real trap when the boss would ask to take him out of the game.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the detectives heading toward a small examining room and the chick remained outside. She looked distress and pale. Her shoulders sagged when she slumped heavily on the bench near the examining room. So she was tired too, he deduced. He smiled. Good. Both tired they would surely make a mistake, and he wanted to be sure he wouldn't miss any opportunity.

He looked around and took a seat in the visitor area, keeping a close eye on the chick. About ten minutes later the doc exited the room, a tired frown on his face. He talked to the detective then went back inside. Then, the chick pulled her phone and called someone. He frowned as he couldn't hear anything. Martin was running out of patience and he was on edge when finally the doc exited a second time and headed toward the detective. Faking he needed water, Martin walked to the water distributor to get a drink and leaned on the small tank, few feet away from them. He smiled as the both talked loud enough for him to get the gist of their conversation.

From what he heard, Taylor was asleep and his meds didn't work that well. He smiled inwardly. This was good news too. If only the pair could step away from his room, he would have the time to check on the guy. Excitation sprang inside him as the small group stepped away, and entered an office far in the corridor.

Glancing quickly around, Martin pushed the door open and entered the small examining room. Carefully, he walked toward the cop who seemed sound asleep and he smiled wickedly. The detective was lying on his back, his bare chest partially covered by a small blue sheet and his right arm was plugged into an IV. His eyes were firmly closed. Martin glared as the cop was defenseless before him. Maybe he wouldn't get any other golden occasions like that, his mind whispered. He clenched his jaw feeling the needle he had prepared few days ago still nestled in the pocket of his jacket. One small injection into the detective's IV and he would be gone. Well, not right away, but as time would pass he would surely die inexplicably as his special cocktail was taking some hours to spread in the body and kill.

He sighed inwardly. He was fed up of that cop and the fact that his colleagues were getting closer wasn't helping him. If only the boss didn't want him alive. Damn it! He stared at Taylor with hatred. The man was his only obstacle to make it in the family. Though his life right now, was his ticket too. Grinding his teeth, he looked closely at the guy, noticing the fresh dressing applied over his right side. Gun shot wound, his mind whispered, probably done by Carl. Then his eyes went back to the dark, brownish bruises smearing the left side of the cop's chest. Broken ribs, that's from me, he smiled with pride. And finally to his face and the dark, purple bruises over his left temple. He smiled. Those were from Tommy as his brother had knocked him down with a hard slam after their fight, giving all he had after Taylor had managed to get rid off from under the three of them. That man had fought like a damned lion, but in the end they had won the battle. He smirked, a smile of victory playing over his lips, knowing that Taylor's life was in his hands right now. A small fever sprang into his mind and body, realizing the power he had and that he could end Taylor's life. Just like that. He took a deep breath. But now wasn't the time, or the boss would make sure he and Tommy would disappear for good if he wasn't following his orders. He cursed.

Finally, Martin nodded angrily as the cop seemed to shift in his sleep and groaned. He's waking up. Quickly, he took a step back to the door and exited before he could be discovered. He sighed heavily as he headed for the exit. The cold wind assaulted him as he stepped outside, and shivered, tramping down the heavy, melted snow under his boots. Now, he had a better knowledge of Taylor's condition. He shook his head and climbed up inside his car, waiting for the cops to leave. At least, he knew exactly where were the cop's weaknesses if needed.

xxx

Stella followed Doctor Shen. Although the doc had said he was going to check on Mac and she wasn't required, she still had that nagging feeling that she shouldn't have left him out of her sight. You're paranoid, Stella. The doc turned, entering Mac's room and her sight was caught by a silhouette she had seen before. She frowned, as she stared at the back of the man heading out. The guy was tall, black hair and dressed in casual, blue jeans, wearing a heavy white coat with hood. She bit her lower lip. Where had she seen him? Finally, he exited and her mind went back to Mac. Dr Shen opened the door as he stared back at her.

"He's awake," he said softly.

She nodded with a tight smile and entered the room. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she noticed how Mac was tiredly lying on the examining bed, his face pale and marked deeply by his restless night. Pillows behind his back, he was propped up over them, and his bare chest was now covered with a new white dressing. An IV was plugged into his right arm, and he seemed at ease considering the situation. Though, he gave her a shy smile as he saw her and she felt her old friend surfacing again. The look in his green eyes, that small twinkling flame of fantasy was there, although weak, but it was there, and it was enough to boost her hopes up.

Hiding his winces as he shifted against the pillows, Mac watched with hidden pleasure as Stella smiled back at him. He swallowed the small knot in his throat. Since he had left the hospital with her, three days ago, it was the first time they had been separated like this, otherwise than from his own doing. He noticed how her eyes softly grazed his bare chest, and felt his cheeks warming at her lingering sight. After a minute, she probably realized what she was doing as her eyes set back on his face with a slight, rosy blush that made her even more beautiful, before she quickly looked down at the floor.

"Well, Detective Taylor," started Dr Shen, slightly startling him from his contemplation. "I talked to your partner while you were asleep, and I promised her I would talk to you as well."

Mac looked at the doc as the man sat on a high chair near his bed. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Stella leaning quietly against the wall, her lips tight. He quickly deduced from her behavior, that what was going to be said wasn't good news. And as Shen spoke, he realized he was right.

"Detective, you have been in some traumatic ordeal, and your body as well as your mind still bear the stigmas of it," started Shen with a serious look.

Mac frowned. Where was the doc going? He already knew he wasn't back one hundred percent yet, so what was all that about? He glanced at Stella but her closed face didn't give him any hint, and he felt an irrational anger surging again. He had that nagging feeling that they were both treating him like a child, and the burning feeling was awfully stinging through his mind, poking his heart and gut like a shooting stab. He clenched his fists, trying to control the anger he felt growing, and crawling up to his mind. Wait for their explanation, Mac. Just wait, he tried to convince himself, his breathing slow.

Stella frowned as she saw Mac tensed, and could feel that something wasn't right with him. Her lips tight, she realized it was anger that was now feeling his green, ocean eyes. So he wasn't just doing that with her. She sighed inwardly. Somehow she was reassured he wasn't behaving like that only with her, but seeing his fists closing firmly, it meant he wasn't happy about what was going on. She glanced at Shen, and the doc raked his throat, probably having picked up on Mac's tense frame as well.

"What I mean is that, it's normal to feel out and not really in your place, Detective," continued Shen. "Especially with what your mind had been through. You still have a lot to remember and your body has to heal properly." The doc sighed and watched as Mac seemed to relax a bit at his last words. "But there's one thing you should know; your memory won't come back unless you remember it, alone."

Mac clenched his jaw not liking where this talk was going. Alone? Why?

Her mouth sealed, Stella glanced at Shen, knowing he was purposefully hiding the truth from her partner. His memory couldn't be stimulated like it would in any case of memory loss because of his PTSD. The risk of triggering an outburst was too high for them to help Mac remember. No, he had to remember it all by himself, minimizing the stress this way. She closed her eyes. But it was so unfair that he had to do this painful recovery alone. Though curing him from his stress was the best option or his memory would leave him crippled, according to Dr Shen.

"Your memory is very fragile, and right now, we can't shake it too fast. It's why I have expressly asked your partner not to help you with it," stated Shen, trying to sound nice, and leaving out the PTSD facts that he thought would provoke more outbursts than good.

Mac squeezed his fists, his fingers tightening over the blue sheet as his knuckles went white. That's what she had said, but the truth was he hadn't believed her. He swallowed back his anger toward Stella, his rage now focused on the doc, who was consciously keeping him from his life. How did that man dare doing that? Finding back his memory alone? That was BS! Was he really thinking he was going to accept that? Okay, he didn't remember his life, but he wasn't stupid, and he clearly remembered something about brain stimulation by talks and hints from friends. He had read it somewhere, and that, he could clearly remember it. So this whole thing about his memory being fragile was a lie. But why? Why would they lie to me? He had thought they were trying to help him? Though for Stella he was sure of it. Damn it! Since the beginning he had felt that something wasn't right.

"I don't believe you!" replied angrily Mac, his right hand instinctively cuddling his wounded side in protection.

Stella shook her head. Of course, Mac didn't believe Shen. He was trained to know if the person before him was lying or not, and although the good doctor wanted to help Mac, he was lying and couldn't escape Mac's trained perceptions.

"It doesn't matter, Detective," said the doc. "I'm sorry but it's for your own good. You have to know that we are-..."

Mac cut him off harshly. "Keep your lies to yourself, Doc! Are we done?" He snapped, his eyes darting angry flames. Okay, the doc didn't want to tell him the truth, but he wasn't about to nod like a nice little boy while he knew the doc was serving him a bunch of crap.

Dr Shen stood up and stared at Mac. "I'm sorry you're taking it like that, Detective."

Stella's phone went off at the same moment. Her eyes widened and she quickly exited the room to answer it. Mac's eyes followed her as the door closed behind her, leaving him alone with Shen. Alone... The word painfully echoed in his head as his glare went back to Dr Shen, who was putting away some instrumentation. Without asking, Mac unplugged the IV from his arm, leaving a small red dot appearing over his skin, but he didn't care right now. Then, pushing angrily the blue sheet covering his chest, he jumped off the bed, daring the doc to forbid him to do any of this. Surely, Shen understood that it wasn't the right time to contradict Mac as he bit his lower lip, and let Mac grab his shirt without a word.

"Mac?" asked Stella as she came back inside and noticed that he was about to dress up, his back to her. "Danny's here," she said, her eyes lingering quickly on his bruised skin. Her heart squeezed in her chest as he turned a weary sight in her direction.

Taking a deep breath, and remembering what she had said about processing him, and his own promise to go with her demand, Mac unhappily dropped his black t-shirt on the bed and nodded. "Okay," he said with a low voice.

From the threshold, Stella gave him a small nod and closed the door as she went back in the corridor to see Danny. She bit her lower lip, hoping that he was going to be all right with the processing.

Mac sat back on the bed, feeling uneasy about this whole situation. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Shen taking his leave. He sighed and shook his head; he wasn't going to regret the doc. Then, few seconds later, Danny entered the room with a kit in hand and a broad grin creasing his face.

Danny's smile faded instantly as he stared at Mac sat on the bed, his legs dangling from it, and a look of defeat painted over his face. His boss looked awful, his bare upper body slanting tiredly forward and remaining up only with the help of his arms carefully clutching at the bed for support. "Mac," he said with a small nod, not really comfortable being the one to process his boss.

Mac cringed as the young CSI stopped dead in his track as he noticed his battered state. Stella stepped right behind him, and bit her lower lip with a pout; her silent, worried eyes talking more about his current state than her words. Suddenly, Mac felt very alone, and defenseless. His bare chest offering little protection from his friends' worried stares.

"You want me to leave?" Stella asked, her heart beating quickly in her chest, and feeling his uncertainty.

She wanted to remain with him, and help him through this, as she knew how being processed could hurt and give that damned feeling of helplessness. She had been there too, and although Mac hadn't remained with her, hurrying to her apartment to clear her name, ensuring the same way to give her a peaceful mind; he had still been there at the beginning. And she could still remember his warm, strong hand patting her shoulder in comfort, telling her silently that he was there for her, no matter what she was going to face. And that's what he had done. He had been there all along, keeping updates with Flack on the phone, and greeting her as she was leaving the hospital, her name cleared up of any suspicions for killing her ex boyfriend; all because he had carefully watched over her.

He nodded slightly, and his sight wandered to his laps as if focused on an invisible point."You can stay," he said, his soft voice breaking the silence, and a deep contrast with his harsh tone used a minute ago with Shen.

She gave him a warm smile, although he wasn't looking, and leaned back against the wall, preferring to leave him some room, but remaining close enough in case he needed support.

Danny opened his kit and took his camera. His lips tight, he gave a shy smile to Mac. "Mac I'm gonna..." His voice trailed off, not sure what he should say to his boss and friend.

Mac locked his eyes with Danny, a dark shadow lingering behind them. "It's okay, Messer. Just do it," he said, his voice low, trying to remain as much neutral as he could.

Since Shen had disappeared, he had been able to lower his anger, and things were much more bearable now. And he had to admit, he didn't want to add his anger to Stella's shoulders. She had enough with him already, and he could see how nervous about him she was every time she was giving him a small glance, to check that he was okay. Whatever she was hiding from him, she was probably thinking it was for his own good, and honestly, if the situation was reversed, he couldn't swear he wouldn't try to protect her the same way too. Even if he didn't remember everything, one thing was clear since last night. He cared for her, and more than he would be able to admit to her. He sighed tiredly.

Danny tensed at Mac's use of his last name and nodded. Raising his camera, he started to take pictures of Mac's chest and face. The flash lighted Mac's left side and Danny could see how much damage the blows had done to his head, and ribs. But his face was the worse, as the black stitches clearly appeared beneath his hair line. He tightened his lips and circled Mac, with a small hobbling walk.

Danny looked at Mac's back and cringed as it was covered with more purple bruises. "Mac, I'm gonna have to take those dressings off to..."

"I'll do it," intervened Stella as she hastily walked toward them, Mac's gaze following her.

Mac swallowed as she circled him. Her warm fingers grazed softly at his skin, and he shivered as she slowly took the dressing off from his shoulder. He frowned, he hadn't even noticed that Shen had put one back. He had probably been out more than two minutes not to see that. He took a small breath as she stepped back to let Danny take the shot of his wound. The young detective offered a small curse at the view of his wound and he flinched involuntarily. This whole processing thing was starting to get on his nerves, and he didn't want to get more pity from his colleagues about it. His fists clenched tightly at the edge of the bed, and he sighed deeply. But considering Stella had asked him about that, he tried to focus his mind on something else, and bit his lower lip, hoping to be done quickly. He had said he would do it, so now he had to stick to his word. At least this way, he would prove her that she could count on him.

Danny tensed as Stella uncovered Mac's wound, and a set of deep, raw lines carving his flesh appeared before him. His fingers squeezed around the camera, angry after those who had hurt his friend. Taking a small breath, he took the shots, trying to be thorough and quick as the Mac he knew would not appreciate being looked over that much closely. He took other shots of his back, his brows creasing in worry as he noticed the old scars and the purple bruises smearing his sides. He took several shots of the bruises as well, thinking that maybe they would be able to match with any foot or punch print when they would catch Medriano. Biting his lower lip, Danny nodded at Stella as he was done and stepped back.

Stella cringed as she noticed Mac's neck going stiff. She knew that this whole thing wasn't easy on him. Quickly, she set the dressing back in place, and her fingers lingered around his bare neck. "You remember when this happened?" she asked softly.

Mac let out a small sigh, both from her question and the warmth provoked by her warm fingers on his skin. Focusing his mind on her question, he tensed. He hadn't really talked about what had happened in the hole. He bit his lower lip, not sure he wanted to even talk, or think about it. But something inside him, like an old habit kicked in, and he found himself explaining how he had pulled himself from a panel that had crushed him. Then, Stella's hand gently patted his shoulder, and the warm contact of her fingers on him soothed his soaring anger at the memory of that dark hole.

"I'm sorry we didn't arrive sooner." She softly confessed. She circled Mac to face him, and help Danny to take the shot of his gunshot wound.

His upper body slanting heavily forward, Mac raised his sagging head toward her when she approached him. She swallowed; only two feet from him she could feel his warm breath gently tickling her neck. Delicately, her fingers lifted the dressing covering his gunshot wound, and she looked up. Her emeralds crossed his tired green, ocean pools. For a brief second, she saw an immense pain lingering behind them, and then he looked down as if afraid that she could see through his soul, afraid of letting her see how wounded he was inside. Her lips tight, she didn't push further as Danny was there, and she stepped back to let the young CSI take the required shots.

Again, Danny felt as if he was intruding on something special as his friends looked at each other for a moment, before Stella glanced toward him with a small nod. Without a word, he stepped in front of Mac, and pointed his camera to take the pictures of the wound. Black, thick stitches were covering the small red line where the docs had entered to get the bullet out, and once again, his anger soared through his heart. If the bullet had touched any vital organs, if... He stopped his trail of thoughts as the camera flashed a light toward Mac and his boss blinked wearily, raising a tired hand to protect his eyes.

"Sorry, Mac," apologized Danny, stunned that this simple flash could hurt Mac. But then, his friend had been through so much lately, that being light sensitive was another symptom of the wreck state he was in.

Mac nodded lightly. "It's okay. Are we done?" He was tired and right now, he wanted to leave the place as soon as possible before he makes a fool of himself by showing to everyone that he was ready to crumble at the first blow.

Danny glanced at Stella, with a question in his eyes. Since Mac's process was taking a long time after the events, there wasn't much to process as the rest of the evidence had been cleaned since then. She nodded toward him and Danny put the camera back in his kit.

"Mac, when I found you," started Stella. "You were hiding in a hole. Your clothes were wet and muddy, and you were almost..." she couldn't finish, her throat tightening and her eyes met his green, ocean pools. "Why were you hiding? Did you hear us?" She needed to know. She needed to know if she had scared him enough to put his life in more dangers.

He sighed and clenched his jaw, swallowing back the painful memory of the freezing cold seeping through his body. Now that he knew who she was, he guessed he should tell her everything he could remember. "I... I heard voices..." He paused, his brows creased from the memory; the harsh feeling of loneliness and ice rushing back to his mind.

Stella flinched involuntarily. Had she been the one speeding his downfall? Oh God.

"They were men. I thought first they were cops, and that I was done." He looked up to see Danny giving a puzzled look at Stella. She hadn't told him about his doubts about himself? He frowned. Now he wondered suddenly what else she hadn't said to his team about his condition? Was she trying to protect him this way? Suddenly, he was discovering a new side of her. A protective and caring side that he must admit he was starting to really fall in love with. His lips tight, he reminded himself that they were just friends and nothing else. He should give up this kind of feelings. He swallowed and locked his eyes with Stella. "I remember that they said that they had to check if the cop was dead, and that if Carl was alive they would finish him. So, I crawled away, thinking that either way they weren't there to help me." He saw fear lingering in Stella's eyes, and he was sorry to be somehow the cause of it.

"They," she repeated slowly, her eyes not able to leave his. "There was more than one...?" her voice trailed off as she realized how close she had been to losing Mac again. If he hadn't had the strength to hide, if... Her heart speeded madly in her chest. They? There was someone else with Medriano? And they both wanted her partner dead. They had come to check if their nasty job had been done and that was a sign they wouldn't give up easily. They wanted Mac dead and they wouldn't stop until he was six feet under. Her fists tightened against her sides as she turned toward Danny, a determined look blazing in her emeralds.

"Danny, take these shots and go back to the lab. Keep me informed of anything new."

Danny nodded and quickly left the room, giving a shy smile to his boss. Mac watched as Stella pulled her phone and gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry, Mac. I know you won't like it. But I have to."

He winced as he slipped slowly an arm inside his black t-shirt, and heard her calling Flack. A frown quickly creased his face.

"Don, I'm gonna need a car to stay in place in front of my apartment. Yes,... No, he's fine... Well, you know him." She glanced toward Mac and saw that his face was now slowly turning to a crimson red, a burning anger creeping into his eyes. She hung up, tensing and preparing to face his wrath.

"I don't need to be babysat," he stated, trying to keep his anger at bay as he slipped into his leather jacket and winced again as he pulled on the new stitches.

"Mac, these guys tried to kill you. Three times!" she voiced, unable to take this as a banal case; because it was not, at least not for her. "I know how stubborn you can be about your own protection, but I'm not ready to lose you." She sighed and her tired eyes locked with his. "Please just humor me, okay?" she finally said.

His face softened at her pleading tone, and he stared at her, pain filling her sight. He let out a small sigh of resignation. "Okay, but we're going to my apartment."

She sighed, feeling the heated argument about to explode once again. "I'm sorry, but it's not a good idea. You haven't recovered your memory or healed, and..."

"Damn it, Stella!" he exploded. "Why not?"

His face was flushed and his eyes red in burning anger as he jumped off from the bed. Forgetting that he was still weary, his legs instantly buckled under him. But his reflexes still there, he quickly caught himself at the edge of the bed, and swayed a moment on his legs. Then, with a deep breath, he managed to steady himself.

The moment she had seen him falter, Stella had rushed toward him only being stopped by his daunting glare he had shot toward her. His right palm had risen before her, and stopped her dead in her move. The new foundation they had been carefully rebuilding since last night had just been broken, he was again refusing her help, keeping her away from him. No, her mind pleaded with agony. It can't be!

"I'm fine," he blurted out with a grunt as he leaned heavily his left side against the bed.

"Of course you are Mac!" she snapped back, unable to keep at bay her worry and anger at seeing him always keeping her away. "I told you, we will go to your apartment, but not right now! Not until you feel better."

He stared at her, surprised by her outburst. "I'm..."

"Right," she voiced angrily. She clenched her fists and let go her own frustrations. "Don't give me you're fine!" She snapped and her arms dropped to her sides in resignation. "I heard enough! I'll be in the car, waiting for you to take you home for a well deserved rest before you pass out on this damned floor!"

On these words, she turned her back, and slammed the door behind her. She was angry. Damn it! She was even furious. He was hurt and drained, why can't he trust her? Okay, this damned PTSD and his memory loss were big obstacles to his trust issues, but right now she was fed up, and tired too. She needed air. She needed him to trust her. Damn it! She needed her best friend. And she needed to take him in her arms, not to be pushed away. Walking hastily, she ignored the frown from the patients and nurses that she crossed the way as she exited the hospital, her eyes misting again and threatening to let the world know how much Mac meant to her.

Mac chuckled nervously. He wasn't sure if it was from a nervous stress, or because he was drained. Or maybe it was his nerves, and he was just losing it. He wasn't happy at all that she had left this way, so there was no real reason to laugh at all. He sighed tiredly. But finally, she had told him off without anything to hinder her thoughts or feelings. She had been her, and it was clear now that she was pissed off. She was mad at him. But a woman wasn't that furious, unless she was caring, his mind whispered. Or she has always hated me, he added mentally. He swallowed back his guilt, realizing that he hadn't been wrong, she was probably caring for him. She wouldn't have taken care of him if she hated him, not as she did last night. He sighed heavily. But now that he had pushed her away, it wasn't going to be easy to come back without at least apologize to her. His mind flashed images of a conversation he had with her yesterday, and he felt suddenly very selfish.

Last night, she had said that she had nothing to forgive him. That he was her friend, and that she was taking him as he was. His shoulders sagged wearily as he walked toward the door. He was drained. She was right. He nodded slowly for himself before he opened the door. Curious looks stared back at him as soon as he stepped outside. He crossed the corridor and headed toward the exit without a word, his lips tight. Surely, Stella knew how to make her exit. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He couldn't help but admire the way she had talked to him. He was supposed to be her boss, and it wasn't something that seemed to really preoccupy her right now. He smirked, she probably knew him well enough to know that once he would remember who he was, he wouldn't be one to fire her for that. Hell, even now he didn't want to do that just because she was mad at him. No, she had acted like a friend would. Her anger was justified, he was the cause of her stress lately, and he couldn't blame her for snapping once in a while.

His lips tight, he raised his lapel as the cold, icy wind froze his bones, and seeped through his clothes. His hands closed into fists as well, the cold biting angrily into his already hurt fingers. For a moment, he remembered what Shen had told him a few days ago, about being careful about the cold weather, and that hypothermia had left its cold mark upon him. And that with what he had suffered, his fingers would be more at risk from the cold. He opened and closed his hands, and felt his knuckles popped sickeningly from the cold as if his hands were coated by rust. It hurt, but not as much as he had probably hurt Stella. He shook his head and shivered. With a deep sigh he stuffed his cold hands in his pockets and a small cloud formed before his face.

As he bit his lower lip, Mac glanced toward the car with guilt. He could see her inside, waiting behind the wheel. For a minute, he hesitated. He had his wallet, and his address was on it. He could just leave, take a car, or the subway, and go to his apartment. He didn't really need her. And after their showdown, she was probably aspiring at some real time off from him anyway. He hadn't been very nice to her after all she had done for him. Including the night she had spent taking care of him. He sighed heavily, realizing that he was probably losing a real friend. His lips tight, he pondered the idea if she wouldn't be better off without him. He shook his head; maybe he should leave her alone and take care of himself. Yeah, she would be better without him to wake her up in the middle of the night from his freakin' behavior.

Stella watched with anger as Mac finally exited the ER and stood still, not really heading her way. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she noticed how he was leaning carefully on his left leg to keep as much pressure as he could from his wounded side. She realized that his frail frame lunged toward the subway and her eyes misted. She had spoken out of anger, and now he was going to leave. Mac, please don't, her mind whispered in plea. Alone and wounded, not remembering who he was and who to trust. Anything could happen then. His nemesis could actually be observing them, and wait for the right time to finish their deadly job. Her hands squeezed around the wheel. "C'mon, Mac. Come back home. I'm sorry," she whispered to herself, tears threatening her eyes as he wasn't moving toward the car.

He sighed, his boots crushing the freezing snow beneath him as he glanced at the subway entrance, and then at the car. He knew she was watching him, probably wondering what the hell he was doing. He bit his lower lip, and cuddled his right side as a dull pain erupted from his abdomen. The pain wasn't as strong as before. It was obvious now that the local painkillers the doc had given him before he sewed him back were still working. He clenched his jaw; but for how long? His arms wrapped around his chest as the icy wind tried to penetrate his jacket and bones again. He closed his eyes, trying to shave away the dark images of the hole surging in his mind, and the freezing cold sneaking under his clothes. Then, he made his decision. Maybe he would regret it, but right now it sounded like the best option for the both of them.

Taking a small breath, he turned toward the car, and slowly walked toward it. He knew he was up for a major, tongue lashing, but he had to give her the benefit of the doubt, and pay whatever price she thought he deserved for pushing her away. Until now, she had only tried to help him, and going AWOL, could hurt her even more, and he didn't want that. He would find a way to get his answers, but not by hurting her, he promised to himself. At least, not today, not after the terrible night he had lived through, and the way she had carefully taken care of him. He had to respect her for that. He sighed and raised a weary look toward the car, his lips tight in quiet remorse.

They had parked a bit far from the entrance to find a spot, and before he knew it, he was limping, his right leg grazing at the frozen snow like a dead log attached to his body. A dead log that hindered his walk more than helping. He frowned, realizing how much last night had taken on him. He was weak and probably defenseless if he was meeting the guys who had tried to kill him. His throbbing head sagged before him, but he didn't want her to see how weak he was. Cuddling his side, he bit back the dull pain increasing in his side and swallowing his pride, he raised his head. His flushed face was instantly battered by the falling icy snow lashing his left cheek. Small tremors coursed through his body, but he continued to walk. He had to.

Her heart skipped in her chest as she thought Mac was going to head to the subway. Her eyes almost wet, she fought back the threatening water, cursing her stupid words for pushing him away when he needed her. What would she do if he was leaving? But then, he turned toward the car and began to slowly walk toward her. A weak smile appeared on her face as she realized that he had made his decision, and she was part of the equation. She sighed in relief, and gazed at him. But then, a frown creased her face, noticing how his walk was turning into a hard limping through the snow, and a weary fight to remain standing on a frozen, slippery ground. Her lips tight, she noted that he was doing his best to appear as normal as he could, but she knew better. She could see that his wounded side hindered him to walk normally, and the recent surgery to sew back his stitches hadn't helped either.

Beads of sweat wetted his forehead and the back of his hair as he strained his body to get back to the car. Then, he heard the engine being turned on and saw the car slowly pulled from its spot. For a second his heart stopped in his chest thinking that Stella was leaving, that she had finally given up on him. A feeling of gloom pressed over his shoulders, knowing that he was going to be alone again. But it quickly disappeared as the car headed toward him. He frowned when the black SUV pulled over right beside him. Swallowing back his anxiety, he peered at the black window that slowly went down. A smiling Stella greeted his sight and he opened the door, knowing what he had to do now.

Mac climbed inside, and Stella glanced at him, not sure it was wise to smile more than once after all that had happened. So as he closed the door and put his seatbelt on, she pulled into traffic, leading them back to her apartment. She heard him shifting in his seat and glanced at him. His face was flushed and sweaty, and she could see that, even if he was tired before, he had managed to reach a new level of exhaustion again. She sighed in concern.

Mac clenched his lips. Comforted by her smile, he had thought they would be able to talk. Well, mostly her, shouting maybe at him, but not that. And hearing the silence lingering between them, he felt suddenly very uneasy. He looked out the passenger window and winced at her sigh. But knowing he was to blame for all of this, he just shut up and closed his eyes; too tired to engage into anything. He would take the heat at her apartment, hoping she wouldn't go too far, and that he would be able to keep his irrational anger at bay for once.

After a tormented, silent ride, both exited the car in a deep silence and headed to her apartment. Exchanging only furtive glances, they found themselves in front of her apartment door as she shuffled with the keys to open. Mac frowned, noticing her hands trembling, and realized that all this had strained her more than she would probably admit. Silently, they entered her apartment, and he braced himself for the forthcoming showdown.

"I'm sorry," he whispered behind her, as the door was shut. "I know you're trying to help, but..." His voice trailed off as Stella had turned toward him.

She stared back at Mac as he was trying to apologize, but all she could see, was that he could have left. She could have lost him, and maybe for good this time, and because she had not been able to control herself. He needed her, and not her self pity taking over her behavior. Her heart beat madly in her chest. She needed him. She needed to feel him against her. And before she knew it, the next second she had wrapped her arms around him, stopping his words.

Stunned by her sudden embrace, Mac froze, not sure of what he should do or say. But as she began to tremble against him, he swallowed back his doubts, and wrapped his arms around her frame. She sank further in his embrace, and both enjoyed the heat coming from their bodies, sharing a moment of peace. As she pressed her body further against him, his head sagged forward and went to rest in the crook of her soft neck. He was so tired. He let out a small breath of exhaustion, and felt her head pressing against his neck as well. Her sweet perfume invaded his senses, and slowly he relaxed when her trembling subsided.

"I'm really sorry, Stell, I..." He began, his heart heavy and his thoughts confused. He was lost, and until now, she had been the only one he could rely on. He needed her.

"Shhhh," she soothed as her hands snaked around his damp neck to keep his face snuggled against her. She had felt with joy as his arms had wrapped around her. And as he had tightened his hold around her, she had found her friend back for a minute. Mac was there to support her, even though his mind was lost in a chaotic world of doubts and confusion. "I... I care about you, Mac." She admitted softly.

Her words sank slowly to his heart, and he felt even more guilty for what he had done earlier. "Sorry, I didn't want to..."

"You're tired, Mac," she cut him off softly. "It's okay. Now that you are here, things are going to be alright." She took a step back, leaving his arms with regrets, but remaining inches from his body. "I'm sorry," she gave him a shy smile. "I guess I needed my friend and..."

He smiled warmly as his fingers dared to gently tuck a small curly strand of hair behind her ear. He took a deep breath. "You know, even if I can't remember it all, I'm still here for you." His lips tight, he looked at her with remorse. "I'm sorry I didn't let you see that before." He sighed, guilt filling his soul and hoping his words didn't seem fake as he had no memory of his past to support them. "You helped me a lot, and..."

Her fingers pressed on his lips to stop his words. "We're friends, Mac. That's what friends are for." She smiled warmly, and saw that his eyes, although tired, were gleaming with an intense fire. "That's what friends do," she repeated softly.

"Thanks." His lips tightened, and he looked at her with worry. "You know that I'm here for you too?" He sighed. "Even, if I'm not myself, my gut tells me that's what I would do."

She nodded lightly. "I know." Tenderly, her hand cupped his right cheek, and she offered him a warm smile. "I know you, Mac, even if you can't right now. I know the good and honorable man you are."

His lips tight in sorrow, his eyes locked with hers, her warm words filling his heart with tenderness and love. He breathed slowly, his body relaxing at her soft words and warm touch. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, lingering in the quiet silence of their breath escaping their mouths. Their eyes unable to leave each other as they had finally found the thread of what had been their bond all these years. Caring for one another.

...TBC

A/N: Well, hope you liked this chapter. It's a bit different from the others, but since Mac is starting to heal, well he has to slowly be back to normal, so hope it was okay with you. As always feel free to give me your thoughts about it, and have a great weekend

Eternal Flame coming up soon