A/N: Thank you all so much for your support, here is the next chapter.

Chapter 4

Hours later I was still sitting against the wall. The wall was the only thing that was holding my body up. Fortunately my breathing had returned to me, while I was sobbing I vaguely contemplated calling 911, afraid that I might hyperventilate and die right here. Maybe it's what I would deserve. It would have been terribly ironic to die in a motel room like this, not from a drug overdose, but rather body racking sobs which stabbed my heart and stole my air.

She looked so sad. After all these years haunted by the devastation I last saw etched into her face, I had promised myself never to be the cause of that look again. Instead I was now haunted by her new face. Sadness, disappointment, and the desire to protect the most important thing in her life, was the haunting she left me with. I should leave, I should pack up and leave them alone, but she told me she needed some time. I was determined to sit here until she was ready. I might be here hours, days, weeks, months, but I wasn't going to leave yet. I knew what I had to do, take care of some logistical concerns. Call Mac and tell him I needed to take a hiatus. I hoped he would understand without asking too many questions. We never talked about this, he never once asked in the past years what had happened to me; I was sure he knew. He knew why I never joked, why I never smiled. It didn't interfere with my job and he was willing to leave it at that. However I didn't want him or my Ma to think I finally offed myself. So I called him, dialing the familiar number hoping to get the answering machine this late at night. I wasn't that lucky.

"Taylor." Even across the country and after years of mistakes I still wanted his approval.

"Hey Mac, it's me Danny." And once again I felt badly for failing him, for making a decision to so badly flake on him even after he, in his own way, had stood by me all these years. He knew that getting me to talk wouldn't help. And I was already feeling so badly I didn't need to see his disappointment in me as well.

"What is it Danny? Are you okay?" And there it was. His usually carefully guarded feelings were exposed. It was apparent to me that he always was worried I would do something. That his silence and stoicism was actually masking careful observation, ready to intercede at anytime. Then how had he missed my recent irrationality? Well maybe it hadn't actually been all that recent. I did have a habit of rash plane flights.

"I'm fine Mac. I..uh..just won't be able to make it to work." I hoped he wouldn't ask me why. I didn't want to tell him and have him talk me into leaving them alone. I had come this far, faced her twice, and was barely hanging on, but the thought of leaving again just wasn't possible.

"Danny, are you okay? You aren't going to hurt yourself, right? I'll come by your apartment or do you want Flack or Stella to?" I felt badly, he sounded genuinely concerned now. Trying to keep his voice even, but he punctuated my name as well as Flack and Stella's. I imagined he was already gesturing to Flack or Stella, imploring them go out and rescue me. How did I not see it? How many years had they been waiting for this moment? How was I supposed to tell him that I already took that step off the ledge just by showing up here?

"Uh no I'm not at my apartment, actually I'm not in New York, I'm going to need some time off." My voice began to break again. "Please Mac I just need this." He couldn't possibly know how much resonated with that statement. I needed this. I needed her, them.

He let out the breath that he had been holding, apparently still concerned about my self-destruction. However, this self-destruction was much more long term. I could tell he was debating, wanting to ask where I was and to tell me to get back to New York. But he already knew. I could tell he was struggling with whether or not to tell me to just leave them alone. But he couldn't.

"Danny, do you think you're doing the right thing?" I was taken aback that he valued my judgment at all. Even after how much I screwed up, it wasn't just a rhetorical question; he genuinely wanted to know if I thought I had to do this.

"I have to. I can't keep going like this. Pretending like my daughter isn't out here. Not knowing how much I love her and how much I regret what I did. I have to try, if there is even a chance that Lindsay'll let me in her life" I was surprised with my own confession; I hadn't ever actually told anyone this. I had never said "My daughter" out loud. And that was the closest I had ever been to admitting my desire to be back in Lindsay's life. Even if it was veiled. My natural inclination towards self preservation wouldn't allow me to say my deepest desire explicitly.

"Okay Danny, I can give you two weeks to start with, can you let me know later what you're going to do?" I hadn't taken a vacation in years; I worked overtime like it was my only savior. I was actually surprised by how poorly I was taking care of myself and I still didn't have to take sick days. I never went out anymore. Flack used to try and get me to go play pool with him down at McGuire's but I always recoiled at even the mention of pool, and the suggestion of watching a football game only reminded me of Lindsay's ability to rattle off stats of her favorite players. Soon he stopped asking me. But weekly he would give me large containers of Shepherd's Pie from his mother. I had a feeling it wasn't her charity, rather his prompting. At least he knew for a few days each week I wouldn't be living off of plain alcohol and cereal. I would have a whole other set of apologies to make later.

"Thanks Mac." I wished he could have told me how to solve this. I was constantly reminded his mantra to follow the evidence. However this was one time that it would not help me. I was the epitome of a guilty party and my crimes were backed by years of solid evidence.