DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN…YOU KNOW THE REST

WARNING: SLIGHT MENTION OF CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE

Outside Help

"Blurring and stirring -
the truth and the I don't know what's real and what's not
Always confusing the thoughts in my head
So I can't trust myself anymore
I'm dying again
I'm going under

Drowning in you

I'm falling forever
I've got to break through
I'm...
So go on and scream
Scream at me I'm so far away
I won't be broken again
I've got to breathe
I can't keep going under."
-Going Under, Evanescence

A heavy, nearly blinding snow had begun to fall as the police department convoy pulled up in front of the ill kept, run down low rise apartment building across from Battery Park. Wind wiped through the naked trees, threatening to snap off the brittle limbs. The sun, which had made a last minute appearance an hour ago, was just beginning to disappear on the horizon, dropping the temperatures well below zero.

"Super hasn't seen Lessing all day," Scagnetti told Mac, as he met the crime lab boss as he slipped out of the department issued Avalanche. "Last time he saw him was last night with coming in the front door, carrying what he thinks was a little boy fast asleep in Lessing's arms."

"What he thinks?" Danny asked, one step behind. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl," Scagnetti explained, as they hurried for the front entrance of the building. "Apparently there was blanket over the kid. But the description the super gave me of the blanket matches the blanket that Sam said Kieran was sleeping with when he was snatched."

"And no one has seen them since?" Mac asked, following two heavily armed ESU officers through the front doors.

"Already asked every neighbour on the floor," the homicide detective replied. "No one has seen a damn thing. But get a load of this. They said that there's been a kid crying inside for the last two hours. And when me and my guys went up, we heard it too. But that's all we heard. No adult talking, nothing."

"Bastard left him alone?" Danny suggested. "Maybe his partner in crime alerted him to the fact he'd been busted and we were closing in and took off? Punked out and left K all alone?"

"Lessing wouldn't just punk out," Mac said. "That isn't a man that gives up easily. He truly believes that he's in the right taking Kieran. That the baby is part of the greater good. Essential to proving a point, getting himself heard. You heard Doyle. Flack survived the experiment. Kieran is Flack's offspring. To Lessing, that makes Kieran nothing short of a miracle."

"And to me, that makes Lessing nothing short of a fucking wackjob," Scagnetti snorted. "I am telling you right now, he so as much touched a hair on that kid's head and I'm going put him through a serious world of hurt."

"You're next in line behind me," Danny declared.

"Anyone call Flack and tell him this is going down?" Scagnetti asked.

"No," Mac responded. "And it's going to stay that way. After what went down today in the interrogation room, the farther away from Dean Lessing that Flack is, the better. Has anyone heard from him since this afternoon?"

"Last I heard he was at Trinity with Sam," Scagnetti said.

"Problems with the babies?" Danny inquired. "I swear to God that if they lose those babies because of that piece of shit Lessing."

"Babies are fine. I guess Sam lost it earlier today and he had to restrain her and pump her full of sedatives. Guess it didn't to the trick, because she somehow got a hold of a copy of today's paper and read Reed Garrett's bullshit and went mental. He took her in. They're holding her in the psych ward."

"Jesus Christ…" Danny shook his head. "I know he's your step son, Mac, but you better hope and pray I don't run into that little prick out on the street."

"I'll take care of Reed," Mac vowed. "Don't worry about that."

"Flack was pretty torn up about having to take her in. Last thing he wanted was to have her committed," Scagnetti said. "But I think he knows that right now, the hospital is the best place for her. Only prob is, is that she's massively sedated and restrained and he's not allowed to see her. Hospital policy I guess,"

"Yeah?" Danny snorted. "Well fuck hospital policy. It's the man's wife. Give me a break."

"I'll call Sinclair," Mac said. "See if he can't get the commissioner to talk some sense into the hospital CEO and get Flack in to see Samantha. The last thing that they need to be is separated at a time like this. But first, let's concentrate on the task at hand. Everyone listen up!"

The small contingent of armed officers in Kevlar vests gathered in a tight group at the entrance of the building's main stairwell.

"We have reason to believe that Dean Lessing is holding Kieran Flack in his apartment," Mac addressed the group. "Because there's a child involved, we exercise extreme caution from the second that we go through the door. I don't want any itchy trigger fingers. It's possible, based on previous history, that Lessing is off his medication and extremely volatile. He's most likely armed and dangerous. He will not think twice about using lethal force. He's not going to give up that child easily. Kieran Flack is our priority at this time. His health and safety is our one and only concern at this time. Getting him home to his parents is our goal. Understand me?"

The members of the group nodded.

"However," Mac continued. "If you are engaged in fire or Lessing makes a move to harm Kieran, you are to take him down in whatever means possible. Is everyone locked and loaded?"

More nods. Dull clicks and snaps as weapons were loaded and prepared for action.

"Let's bring that baby home," Mac said, and opening the door, slipped into the stairwell.

"We're coming for you, K," Danny vowed in a whisper. "Uncle Danny's coming."

They approached the door slowly and cautiously. Weapons at ready, nerves steeled as best as they could be considering Lessing was in sole possession of someone so innocent and tiny. Someone they all loved beyond words. The crying could be heard the moment they made it out of the stairwell and moved swiftly done the hall. A small child sobbing. For comfort? For food? Out of sheer fear and agony? No one knew for sure. But Danny felt his resolve nearly break when through the cries, came the words Mommy and Daddy. As clear as day. In a voice that they all easily recognized.

Easy, Messer, easy, Danny silently attempted to calm himself. His hands were trembling. His stomach felt sick at the thought of what that evil bastard was putting his godson through. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his back. Getting yourself all riled up isn't going to help K any. K needs you to be strong. He needs you to suck it up and be strong. 'Cause that's the only way you're getting him out of there in one piece. And you have to get him out of there. You have to bring him home.

Mac halted in front of apartment 3C and stood to the left of the door as Scagnetti took up post to the right. The big detective nodded to the ESU member holding the small battering ram, silently giving the other man permission to break the door in.

"NYPD!" Scagnetti yelled, moments before the door exploding. Sending splinters of wood and dry wall cascading through the air and into the apartment and out into the hallway.

The team members flowed through the remains of the door swiftly and effortlessly, their guns trained and sweeping the sparsely furnished living room area. Officers branched off and searched the other rooms. The narrow, disgustingly filthy galley kitchen. The sole, messy bedroom that held no more than an air mattress on the floor and clothing and belongings in garbage bags. The postage stamp sized bathroom with it's cracked and fading tiles and bathtub faucet that dripped noisily and incessantly. Calls of "Clear!" began to echo through the apartment as guns were holstered and team members began congregating in the living room.

The sound of crying continued.

On the floor, in front of a small, dusty thirteen inch television, was a small pile of soiled and wet diapers, three empty baby bottles of milk and an open pizza box containing one left over slice. It was Speed that snapped on a pair of gloves and stuck his finger into the piece of food, and found it still lukewarm.

"He hasn't been gone for very long," Speed said. "An hour at the most."

"Check this out, Mac," Hawkes said as he put on his own gloves and crouched down to pick something up. He held aloft an empty bottle of peroxide.

Mac's eyes took in his surroundings. Falling on a lump of clothing by the small window that led out onto a snowy fire escape. He slowly and calmly walked over, and using the barrel of his gun, shifted through what turned out to be a tiny pair of denim overalls, a red turtleneck with a black Nike logo on its collar, and a well loved, tattered blue and yellow baby blanket.

"Is that Kieran's?" Scagnetti asked, feeling nauseous as he stood behind Mac, looking over the other man's shoulders.

Mac nodded slowly.

"You don't think that…"

"He's dyed Kieran's hair and dressed him in girls clothing," Mac told the detective. "He's disguising him, and most likely himself, so he can get Kieran out of the city and to safer ground."

"Couldn't have gotten that far in only an hour," Speed mused, a look of sheer disgust on his face as he glanced around at the dirty, dingy apartment. "Want me to go get our kits?"

"Take Hawkes with you," Mac instructed. "I want the three of us working on processing this apartment."

Speed nodded and clapped Hawkes on the shoulder as he passed the other man and motioned for Hawkes to follow him.

"Hey, Mac…." Danny called from where he stood by the television. "You have to see this."

"What is it?" the older man asked, as he joined his CSI who was pulling a pair of gloves from the pocket of his jeans and slipping them on.

"A tape recorder," Danny replied, picking up the black, handheld object that rested on the top of the television, that was turned on but showing nothing but static. "Lessing tricked us, Mac. Someone tipped him off that we were coming. He recorded Kieran crying and left it playing so we'd think he was here. That sonofabitch…"

"I'll get you to take that tape recorder and Kieran's clothing and blanket to the lab ASAP," Mac ordered.

"There's something stuck to the front of the VCR," Scagnetti observed. "Looks like one of them sticky notes."

Danny crouched down and reached out and plucked the note off of the VCR. "Play me," he read aloud. "With a damn smiley face next to it. This guy is really starting to piss me off now."

"Maybe we should listen to him," Mac mused. "See if there's some kind of message he's trying to send us."

"I'm almost scared to see what it is," Danny sighed, and pressed the play button on the ancient, dusty VCR before standing up and joining his boss and Scagnetti as they stood in front of the television.

The television flickered. Than went to a blue screen before finally getting to the substance of the video.

Scagnetti let out a startled gasp. Mac's fists and jaw clenched. Danny's eyes immediately filled with tears and his lips tightly pursed as he stood, his hands on his hips, staring in disbelief and horror at what greeted the three men.

Kieran Flack, sitting on Dean Lessing's soiled old couch. His black hair now bleach blond. His cherubic face filthy. His dirty cheeks streaked by tears, his blue eyes, focused on the man off screen, frightened and despondent, a pout on his full, rosy lips.

"Are you a good boy, Kieran?" Lessing's voice asked. "Have you been a good boy for your Uncle Dean? You've been such a good boy. You're a special boy, do you know that? Do you know how special you are, Kieran?"

"Jesus Christ," Scagnetti choked out.

"You're special because your daddy is a survivor. He made it through my experiment. He managed to survive what I did. That makes me and him comrades in arms. We share something in common now. We're both soldiers. Soldiers who have survived despite all odds. That's why he'll understand, in the end, why you were so valuable to me. Why you were better off with your Uncle Dean. It will hurt for a long time, but he'll realize, in the end, that this was for the best."

Danny cleared his throat noisily. And as much as he wanted to, he found it impossible to look away.

"You're brave and strong like your father," Lessing continued off screen. "You came from him. From a great soldier. And that's why you're so valuable to me. You've been such a good boy. I know you'll come in very useful to me. So I'll tell you what. Uncle Dean is going to take you on a trip. Somewhere warm and peaceful where you won't be scared or lonely or hungry ever again. Somewhere beautiful, where someone as special as you is treated like you deserve."

Mac shook his head in anger and disgust.

"So from here on out," Lessing said. "You're going to be called Katrina. If anyone asks that's your name, okay? If anyone stops us and asks, that's what I'll tell them your name is. I promise it won't be a long trip. That soon there will be no more sorrow and no more pain and suffering. So wave to the camera, Kieran. Wave to the camera."

The toddler, coaxed by Lessing, raised his left hand and opened his fist once, than twice.

"Now say goodbye to your mommy and daddy."

A hint of a smile played on Kieran's lips. He glanced hopefully around the room at the sound of the familiar names. "Mommy?" he asked in a tiny voice. "Daddy?"

"Say goodbye," Lessing said. Offering his own wave to the camera before the screen went blank.

Silence enveloped the apartment. The three men who stood in front of the television, unable to move or speak. Beside Mac, Scagnetti's face had gone ashen and his entire large, strong body shook in a mixture of anger and horror. Mac remained stone faced and calm. At least on the outside. On the inside he was furious and even more determined to nail Dean Lessing to a wall. And terrified of what fate awaited his honorary grandson.

"Danny," he said quietly, after several minutes passed. "I'm going to need you to.."

"That fucking bastard…" Danny whispered, his eyes closed, his chin tucked to his chest. His hands on his hips as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "That fucking dirty bastard," his voice rose in volume and intensity. "That fucking, dirty…BASTARD!"

He screamed the last word and bolted forward and angrily shoved the television so hard it toppled to the floor and shattered.

"Danny!" Mac yelled, and attempted to wrap his arms around his CSI to contain him.

"I can't believe that sonofabitch!" he roared, tears streaming down his face, shoving Mac away. "I can't believe he did this! I can't believe…Kieran! He's gone, Mac! Kieran's gone!"

"We'll find him, Danny," the older man assured him, laying his hands on Danny's shoulders. "I promise you we'll find him."

He shook his head. "It's too late!" he cried. "We're too late! He's gone! Long gone! Kieran's gone, Mac! We're never going to find him! You heard Lessing! You heard what he said! He's going to kill him, Mac!"

"We don't know that!" Mac shouted over the hysterical rambling of the younger man. "He didn't say that!"

"Somewhere warm and peaceful where there's no more pain and suffering!" Danny sobbed. "You heard him! He's as good as dead! If he's not already! What do I tell Flack? What do I tell Sam? How do I tell them that their son is dead!"

"We don't know where Kieran is," Mac reminded him. "We don't know where he is or what condition he's in."

"We're too late," Danny moaned. "We're too fucking late!"

"Calm down," Mac ordered. "Just calm down and…."

"We're too late!" the CSI screamed and pushed his boss away one more time. "We failed him! We let him down! He's dead, Mac! HE'S DEAD!"

"Take him outside," Mac ordered Scagnetti. "Take him back to the lab if you have to."

"Let's go, Messer," the big detective said as he wrapped a strong, supportive arm around the CSI's shoulders and all but dragged Danny towards the door. "We'll go somewhere you can calm down."

"He's dead," Danny sobbed, laying his head against the man keeping him on his feet. "Kieran's dead."

"You don't know that," Scagnetti told him. "Let's just get you out of here. Okay?

"What do I tell Flack?" Danny whimpered. "What do I tell him?"

"Nothing yet. You tell him nothing until we know for sure? You hear me?"

Mac sighed heavily as he watched the two men disappear from the apartment. He glanced at the television, at the sticky note that Danny had dropped to the floor. At the pile of Kieran's clothes and the empty peroxide bottle.

"What are you thinking?" Hawkes asked, in a soft, calm voice as he appeared at his boss' side.

"I'm thinking we're running out of time," Mac replied.

There was no way out.

All the entrances to the bridges and exits of the interchanges and thoroughfares were being guarded by uniformed officers and highway patrolmen. Every airport and bus and subway station were teeming with both officers in uniform, plain clothes detectives, and heavily armed members of the ESU. It would take a miracle for Dean Lessing to be able to make it out of New York City. Pictures of the newly blond Kieran Flack were plastered everywhere. Police officers handed them out to drivers stopped at red lights and passengers waiting for flights or trains. Volunteers -mostly off duty cops and members of the lab- passed them out to every one they possibly could on the street. Along with photos of Dean Lessing. One what he looked like normally, and one with blond hair.

The rat bastard had nowhere to go.

So why in the hell hadn't Kieran been found yet?

Danny just didn't understand where in the hell is godson could be. Patrolmen across the city had been checking storage facilities and empty buildings and seemingly abandoned vehicles for the last three hours and still nothing. There was no sign of the toddler. Danny had realized, as he processed his 'nephew's' clothing and tried in vain to get the images of the video tape out of his head, that Kieran had turned thirteen months old that very day. Not a remarkable milestone just coming off the monumental first birthday, but another month older none the less. And instead of spending that night warm and snug in his bed, surrounded by his toys and the love of his parents, Kieran was almost impossibly out of reach, at the hands of a mad man.

There only thing that Danny had found off of the clothes had been stray fibres, dried two percent milk, and equally as dried vomit. Kieran was allergic to milk with that high of a fat content. Something that he'd inherited from his mother. When he consumed large quantities of anything more than skim, he became stricken by horrific cramps, followed by diarrhea and profuse vomiting. There would have been no way that Dean Lessing would have known that. And judging by the empty bottles and jugs containing trace amounts of the same milk, he'd been feeding it to Kieran constantly. The little boy was in no doubt, in a considerable amount of agony and sick beyond belief.

Hawkes and Carmen had put in calls to all of the hospitals in the city and in all the other boroughs. If Kieran was that ill, the thinking was that maybe Lessing would panic and either take him into the ER, or simply drop him off there to get the care he needed. The latter was the most humane action. But no one ever said that man was humane.

What had bothered Danny the most was when he processed one of the solid diapers. They'd been headed for the garage when Mac had noticed what looked like blood inside one of them. Danny had sealed the item up in an evidence baggy and took it back to the lab. Fighting nausea and immense rage and sorrow, when he realized that it was blood inside of that diaper. A considerable amount of blood. And blood in that area, could only have meant one thing.

And that had sent Danny over the edge. He just couldn't take being around the evidence any longer. The clothes that his nephew had been in, the empty bottle of peroxide that had been used to bleach his nearly jet black hair, the diaper that told them Kieran had been put through a lot more suffering than just being fed the wrong milk and having his hair dyed and than being dressed like a girl. Word of that had spread around the place like wild fire. Everyone felt shocked. And utterly and completely disgusted.

Danny retreated to the silence of the office he shared with Samantha. He left the door slightly ajar and kicked off his shoes and sat down on the small couch in front of the window. He stretched out his legs and propped his feet on the table and put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He needed time to regroup. Time to come to some sort of acceptance of what had happened.

The hope that Kieran was still alive had started to fade. That flicker hadn't diminished completely, but was in dire straights. The longer the time the baby was missing, the less likely chance that they'd ever find him. Alive or dead. And he briefly wondered, as much as it tore Danny apart to do so, if because of the trauma his godson had obviously been put through, it death at this point was much more tolerable than the alternative.

A knock came to the partially opened door.

Just go away, Danny pleaded silently. Just go away and leave with my misery. Give me the time to grieve.

But it wasn't over yet. He couldn't let it be over. If Kieran was still alive, and it seemed a big if now, Danny couldn't, and wouldn't give up on him.

"Enter," he instructed whoever was lingering by the door.

Adam -his hair wildly dishevelled past anything Danny had ever seen before, his eyes rimmed red from the bouts of emotion he'd been suffering from- poked his head into the room.

"What's up, Adam?" Danny asked. "Can't you see I'm one step away from either going to a bar and drinking myself into oblivion or having a good old fashioned mental break down?"

"I have some results," the lab tech said, holding aloft a report.

"Do I even want to know?" Danny asked.

"Probably not," Adam sighed. "But it's relevant. Disgusting, but relevant."

Danny prepared himself mentally for what he was about to hear.

"I ran samples on the contents of the diaper," Adam told the CSI. Finding it extremely difficult to get the words out. "Both the urine and the blood are Kieran's."

Danny fought back bile.

"Based on the lower PH level in the urine and the state of the blood, I was able to determine that the matter in the diaper was more than twenty four hours old. So it was most likely the diaper Kieran was wearing in between Doyle snatching him and Lessing picking him up. And there's more…"

"Naturally," Danny murmured.

"I..uh…I…" Adam stuttered and stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the news he was about to deliver. He'd already gone to the bathroom immediately after discovering what he had, and vomited profusely and sank down on his knees and had a good cry. "I found semen…in the diaper. It was degraded, but still enough to get a sample."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut. Willed himself to stay strong. Stay calm and strong. "Lessing, that motherfucker…" he hissed.

"It wasn't Lessing," Adam told him. "It wasn't Lessing that did that to Kieran. It was Jack Doyle."

"Sonofabitch," Danny snorted and shook his head. "That sick, twisted sonofabitch lied to us. Flack asked him. Asked him if he touched K like that and Doyle said no. That he wanted to, but didn't.."

"Mac's on his way to Central Booking right now where Doyle's being held," Adam said, stretching his arm out to pass the report to the CSI. "To lay charges of molestation on top of the kidnapping."

"Good," Danny declared, taking the file. "Can't wait to see what happen to that rat bastard when he gets to Sing Sing. Child molesters are regarded as the lowest of the low among all the cons. He's going to get getting a lot of beat downs. Among other things."

"I just…" Adam struggled with his emotions once again. "I can't believe he'd do that to my nephew. I just can't…"

Danny opened his eyes and glanced over at the lab tech. "You should go home," he said gently. "Take yourself off of this case. You're too personally involved. You're going to drive yourself insane."

"I can't…" Adam shook his head. "I need to…I need to see this through. For Flack and my sister. For my nephew."

Danny just nodded in understanding.

"Look, Danny," Adam began. "I know that AV is my specialty and that no one works the computers better than me and Stella and Carmen are down there looking at that tape.."

"Mac made the decision. He made the decision that you didn't need to see that. That you didn't need to see your nephew like that. And he's right, Adam. Because to be honest, I wish I had never seen it."

"I was just going to say thanks," the lab tech said. "For keeping me out of there. 'Cause I didn't really want to see him like that. I didn't want to see Kieran…"

Adam's voice broke and he hung his head.

"It's going to be okay," Danny assured him. "We're going to find him Adam. One way or the other."

Adam snorted. "One way or the other…I need to…" he nodded down the hall. "I need to go and be alone."

"If you need to talk, buddy, I'm here," Danny told him.

"I know," Adam gave a brave smile. "I just need to…thanks.."

Danny nodded as the lab tech hurried off. Sighing heavily, he opened the file and scanned through the results that the DNA profiles had come up with. He felt sick at the confirmation of what he'd feared. His chest constricted and heart pounded and his hands trembled.

"You fucking bastard!" he screamed, and tossed the report across the room. Sending papers fluttering to the floor. He tore off his glasses and dropped them onto the coffee table. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees and his face and his hands and broke down.

Danny wasn't sure how long he'd actually cried and rocked back and forth for. Time had seemed to stand still. It could have been only minutes, it could have been hours. But eventually his sobbing subsided, leaving behind an unbearable ache in his heart and a sense of emptiness throughout his entire body.

"Danny…" the voice was soft. Gentle. And obviously a figment of his imagination.

There was no way that she was there. It was just his distraught and exhausted mind playing tricks on him.

"Danny," the voice repeated, louder this time. Sounding heartbroken and weary. Than a hand reached out and touched the back of his head delicately before fingers combed affectionately, and soothingly through his hair.

Than and only than, did tear his face out of his hands and look up. Finding himself staring directly into tear filled, doe like brown eyes.

"Lindsay?" he whispered, disbelieving.

"I'm here, Danny," she said, and laid her hand alongside of his face.

"How?" he asked. "When?"

"I've been here since this morning," Lindsay explained, softly stroking his unshaven cheek. "As soon as I got your message yesterday I made plans to come down. I couldn't let Sam and Flack go through this alone. I knew you'd take care of them, but.."

"All this way?" he inquired. "All this way for them?"

"They're my friends. They needed someone that wasn't on the job. Someone that could just be there as a shoulder to cry on. I wanted to wait to let you know that I was here. Until Kieran was home and me and you didn't take centre stage to what was going on. But when I heard on the radio that Lessing managed to get away.."

"He's gone, Linds. Kieran's gone," Danny whimpered. "We don't even know if he's alive anymore. And the bastard that took him…he molested him. Did some sick shit to him."

"Does Flack know?"

Danny shook his head. "I don't have the heart to tell him that part when I called to tell him that Lessing got away. He's convinced his boy is dead. That all we're going to find is K's body. If even that. It's destroying him, Linds. And if it's true that K is dead…he'll lose Sam, too. Because she'll never recover from that."

"What does your heart tell you, Danny?" Lindsay asked, trailing her fingertips over ever inch of his weary face. "What is it telling you?"

"I don't know anymore," he replied. "I just don't know. I want to believe. I want to believe that he's still alive. That we're going to find him. I want to believe so bad."

"You need to hold onto that," she told him. "Hold onto it as tight as you can. Because that's what's going to get you through this."

"I just…" he let the tears flow free and easy. "I just want this to be over. For Sam and Flack. For Kieran. I just want this whole nightmare to be over. It has to end. Some way. It has to end some way."

"Let's hope and pray for the most positive outcome," Lindsay encourage, and bending down, placed a soft, chaste kiss on his hips.

Danny's resolve broke. Overcome by the memories brought on by the feel of her hands and the smell of her hair and the taste of her lips. Of the want and longing and love that had been plaguing at him for nearly two years now. The guilt for what he had done, for how he had treated her, hit like a ton of bricks.

"I missed you, Montana," he whimpered, throwing his arms around her slender waist and pulling her down onto his lap. Revelling in the feel of her body against his after so long. "I missed you so much," he showered her face and her neck and her hair with kisses. "You have no idea how much I missed you, baby."

"It's okay, Danny," she brushed his tears away with one hand, as she curled her other arm around his neck. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. We have lots of time to talk about that."

"I just missed you so much," he told her, breathing in her soft scene, his nose against her ear. "I've missed you every day for two years. I never stopped loving you. Ever. And things are so screwed up right now and I'm so confused and I'm so scared. I don't know what to do anymore.."

"Shhh, Danny," she pulled back from him and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Shhh. None of that is important right now. We have lots of time to talk about things like that. Lots of time to make amends. Right now we need to concentrate on our friends and their precious baby boy. There'll be time for us later. I promise."

"I don't know what to do anymore," Danny admitted. "I don't know how to find K. I'm lost, Montana. I'm so lost. It feels as if he's never going to be found. That Lessing has just upped and disappeared with him. And how do I tell Flack that? How do I tell him that he's never going to get his boy back?"

"You don't tell him anything until you know for sure one way or the other. And if it is the case, if Kieran is gone, whether it be through death or not, than you just tell him. Because it will be easier for him to hear it from you than for him to hear it through anyone else."

Danny nodded in agreement. "I'm so tired," he whispered. "So tired. I just…I just need some time. Some time to regroup. Get a hold of myself. Time to just sit here and hold you. That's all I need."

She smiled and pressed her lips to her forehead. "Actually, you know what you really need?"

He shook his head.

"You need me to hold you," she said.

And wrapping both arms around his weary body, she placed his head on her shoulder and did just that.

Stella stood in the doorway of her husband's office. Watching in heartbroken silence as he sat, his chair turned towards the window, a hand to his forehead and his eyes closed. The news that Kieran had been molested by Jack Doyle had hit everyone hard. Mac had been the one to head down to Central Booking and lay the extra charge, and he'd had a hell of a time restraining himself from inflicting some serious, brutal punishment on the man.

Since he'd arrived back at the lab, he hadn't spoken a word to anyone and had retreated to his office. His sanctuary. His safe haven. Lab reports and case folders and pictures of the inside of Lessing's apartment and stills taken from the video tape lay scattered across his normally pristine desk. The case was taking it's toll. He hadn't eaten, slept or left the lab since Kieran had disappeared. And he had no plans on doing anything else other than working until that little boy was found safe and sound. Or even…

Stella couldn't bring herself to think of such things. She stroked her pregnant belly as she quietly approached the desk. She laid her hands on her husband's shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"We're running out of time, Stella," Mac said, laying a hand over one of hers. "It's been more than twenty-four hours. We're running out of time."

"We watched that tape over and over again," she told him. "We analyzed every second and there's no hint at where he's taking Kieran or what he's planning on doing to him."

"What about the tape recorder Danny found? The one with the crying on it?"

"We ran every possible test on it, Mac. The only other noise or voice you could hear in the background was Lessing telling Kieran over and over again that he was going to be okay, that he's a good boy. That's it."

"We scoured every inch of that apartment," Mac sighed. "And we didn't find a damn thing that could help us pinpoint where Lessing is holding him now. He has to be somewhere in the city. Based on the temperature of that pizza Speed found, Lessing had been in that apartment less than an hour before. He hasn't had the time to get out of the city. And every possible exit is being heavily guarded."

"So he's somewhere in New York," Stella concluded. "But where? There's millions upon millions of buildings here."

"I just don't know.." Mac sighed and shook his head. "Has anyone called Flack? Or the hospital? To check on how Samantha is?"

"He's hanging in there. Barely. Hawkes called him and said that he's pretty distraught that Lessing managed to get away. That he's nearly relegated himself to the fact that he's never going to see his son again. He truly believes, in his heart, that Kieran is dead."

Mac shook his head. "They didn't deserve this, Stella. Of all people…"

"No one deserves this," she said. "But on the plus side, Sinclair was able to pull strings and get Sam moved to a private room on another ward. So that Flack can stay with her. He told Hawkes to tell you thank you. And that he'll get in touch when he's able to hold himself together better."

"He's a tough, proud man, Stella. After what I saw him go through with the bombing and afterwards. He's tough. But this…this is going to break him. If we don't find his son…" Mac's voice trailed off.

The phone on his desk rang noisily. He sighed heavily and dropped his hand off of his wife's and turned his chair around to face his desk. He leaned forward and snatched the phone off of the cradle.

"Detective Taylor," he said in way of greeting.

Silence.

"Detective Taylor," he repeated, more forcefully.

"Nice to hear your voice again, Detective Taylor. It's been a long time."

Mac's blood nearly froze at the sound of that voice. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced up at Stella, his eyes wide.

Lessing, he mouthed.

Her eyes widened as she sank down onto the edge of his desk.

"Lessing," Mac said into the phone. "Where's the baby? What have you done to him?"

"Nothing yet," the other man replied. "Don't worry. I'm taking very, very good care of your honorary grandson. Isn't that what you called him Detective Taylor? Did you not call him that to a reporter? I thought I read that in the paper this morning."

"What do you want with him?" Mac asked. "What did he do to you that you'd want to hurt him?"

"Hurt him? I never said anything about hurting him. That's the last thing I want to do. He's too useful to me. I'm not going to harm him at all."

"What do you mean he's useful to you? What do you want with him, Lessing?"

"Did you not watch my tape? He's something special. He's the offspring of the person who somehow managed to survive my first experiment. That makes Kieran nothing short of a miracle. Or should I say Katrina. That's his name now. Her name."

"His name is Kieran!" Mac snapped. "Kieran! He's a boy! And he's got a mother and father that are worried sick about him and want to know if he's okay!"

"He's fine. At this moment he's fast asleep. He's been rather sick though."

"He has an intolerance to the fat in the milk you've been giving him," Mac said. "He's probably been in agony for the last day and half! Why are you doing this to him? To his parents? Give them their baby back, Lessing. Give the little boy back to his mother and father."

"I'm sorry. I can't do that. They don't deserve him. They can't treat him the way I can. But I will give them a chance to see him. A chance to say goodbye."

"You'll never get out of the city Lessing."

"Maybe not alive," he chuckled. "But we'll get out another way, won't we Katrina?"

"Kieran!" Mac bellowed. "His name is Kieran!"

"Tell the parents they can see him one last time," Lessing said.

"What is it you want them to do?" Mac asked, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen.

"I want them to drive, in their personal vehicle, to the second underground parking level of 627 Greenwich. I want them to park in spot 231 on the west side of the lot. 11:00. Not one minute after. And I want them alone and unarmed. The mother stays in the car. I want to talk to the father and only the father. And I want both of them unarmed. Because if they try anything stupid…well I don't want the murder of their child to be on their consciences for the rest of their lives."

"And what happens after you talk to him?" Mac asked.

"That's for me to decide," Lessing said and hung up.

Mac slammed the phone down on the cradle and looked down at the information he'd jotted down. "627 Greenwich," he read aloud.

Stella arched an eyebrow. "Isn't that the…"

"That's the building across the street from where the explosion occurred," Mac told her. "The experiment that Flack survived."

"He's returning to the scene of his biggest failure," Stella said. "It's how he got caught…"

"He sees it as a victory. As a success," Mac told her. "Because Flack lived." He checked his watch and sprung to his feet. "We have two hours. Get the entire team assembled. And call Flack. We've just gotten our best possible chance of getting Kieran back."

"This is fucking insane!" Danny exclaimed, as he paced the width of Mac's office half an hour later. "I can't believe that he called you! I can't believe he thinks that he can get away with this!"

"We're not going to let him," Mac said, from where he sat perched on the edge of his desk.

"Come on, Mac, you heard him," Stella argued. "If anyone other than Samantha and Flack show up, Kieran's dead. Plain and simple. How are we going to get him back under those conditions? It's impossible."

"Flack will wear a wire," Mac concluded, nodding in the direction of Flack as he sat on the couch in the office, absorbing the news with his head in his hands.

"And what?" Danny asked. "What good is that going to do?"

"He offers to make a switch," Mac replied. "Himself for Kieran. We've already talked about this and…"

"Are you fucking crazy?" Danny looked back and forth between his boss and his best friend. "A switch! A goddamn switch? So Sam gets her kid back but loses her husband? What the hell kind of screwed up idea is that?"

"No one is going to lose anyone," Mac assured him. "Flack will get the baby from Lessing, place him in his car seat and say the words I'm yours, Lessing and back away. That's the code words for ESU to close in."

"And if they don't get there soon enough?" Danny asked. "What than? He's dead. Plain and simple."

"You have a better idea, Messer?" Flack asked, turning his tortured eyes up at his best friend. "Do you? Because I'm fresh out. This is as good as it gets. If this is the only way to get my son back, I have to take the chance. Chances are Lessing won't kill me."

"Flack's right," Stella said. "Lessing sees him as a comrade in arms so to speak. Because he survived the bombing. Chances are…"

"Chances!" Danny cried. "That's all these are! Chances! And aren't we all forgetting one thing? Samantha's in the hospital! There's no way she's up to this. No way. And if Lessing figures out that she's not in the car, Kieran and Flack are dead."

"Lessing specifically requested that the mother stay in the car," Mac told the CSI. "So we'll have a female in the car. Someone to pose as Samantha."

"He saw the paper I'm sure!" Danny argued. "He knows what she looks like! If he even catches a glimpse and sees it's not the real Samantha Flack, than they're all dead. And how the hell are we going to get an undercover here that quickly?"

"We're not," Mac responded. "We're going to use someone we have at our disposal."

"Who?" Danny asked. "Stella? She's pregnant and you wouldn't put her or the baby at risk like that? Angell? Angell's too tall and has no physical resemblance to Sam whatsoever. Who do we have that could possibly pass, even the tiniest bit, as Samantha. Tell me."

"Someone that may not, facial appearance wise, look like Samantha, but in body type, is nearly a double," Mac told him.

"Well I gotta see this," Danny snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whose this mystery woman?"

A soft knock came to the office door.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mac said as he rose from the edge of his chest. "I'd like all of you to meet Samantha Flack."

Danny turned to face the woman standing in the doorway. Shaking his head at the sight of the person before them. At the sheer insanity of the thought of her putting herself, voluntarily, in such a dangerous position.

"What do you need me to do?" Lindsay asked.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and everyone of you! Even all the lurkers and those adding me to their alerts or favourites! Thanks for all the support! Please R and R folks!

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