Title: Opposites Attract
Chapter 27 - The Games Killers like to Play

Charles looms over me with a menacing glare. He raises his fist and I can only see my blood covering his knuckles. "Eyeing your own blood Taylor?" He mocks me. "Well get used to the sight of red, BECAUSE YOU'LL BE SEEING A LOT MORE!" He yells.

The pain in my body is finally starting to be felt as the Morphine is deciding to take its leave. My mouth is dry as the thick gag has absorbed all moisture my lips and throat have to offer. My face is sweaty and covered with my own blood and dirt, but my mind refuses to allow myself to drift into darkness; afraid if I do, I'll never wake up.

Charles grabs my neck and starts to squeeze, the knife now pressed against my cheek once more. I start to lightly choke and my eyes can only blink away dried blood from my head wound and finally offer fresh tears.

"Do you know how long I have waited for this moment, Taylor?" Charles asks, closing his eyes for a brief second.

My breathing starts to once again shallow and I feel light headed; thanks to his harsh grasp that is cutting off my circulation. He loosens his grasp and then pushes my head back onto the dirty mattress and my throat gasps at whatever air my nose can offer.

"TWO YEARS!" He shouts in anger. "Every night I see my boy dead! Every night I wake up knowing my child is gone! Every morning I wake up cursing YOUR NAME! And yes maybe I did let my anger and hatred consume me. But didn't you stop to think it might; especially given my personal history? Wasn't it you who found out that I was on leave from my work due to excessive violence? Wasnt it you who looked me in the eye and said that I shouldn't let rage consume me? Well it did!"

He starts into an angry tirade which I find ironic since he's remorseful at his own son's death but offers no sympathy about other son's he's taken from caring parents. Damn I wish I could throw that in his face; sadly I know if I did get that chance I'd probably pay dearly so maybe it's a good thing that I can't.

Then without warning he reaches for the knife and rips open a strip along my upper breast bone. I can only offer another yell of pain as my body finally decides that I need to feel every last second of it. Once again he's offered a cut that won't leave a physical scar but my mind is already seared for life.

"Charles!" Marla snaps from the front. "Wait until we arrive."

"You're right dear," Charles finally calms as he stands up; looking at me in contempt. However, my eyes are closed from the pain and I'm only trying to concentrate on not throwing up once again. He finally leaves me alone and I slowly open my eyes.

Stella, my mind tries to call out. But the burning pain from the hits to the chest and now the cuts, don't allow my brain any other thoughts on her. What have I done? But as much I tell myself it's almost over I have to believe that Stella will find me; that's she's looking right now; that she'll never give up.

Stella help me...please...you have to find me now...I have to believe that...

XXXXXXXX

My mind races in peril as I am finally forced to think back on the perfect trap that Gibbons set for Mac. The attacks were Charles and he waited until Mac had put away a man powerful enough to pull it off. With jack Harvey in jail he was afforded the perfect patsy to keep Mac guessing until Charles was ready for him.

When Jack took his life, Charles had to escalate things to the breaking point; that all culminated in Paula being shot. "He played us perfectly," I whisper in misery until my phone rings; forcing me back upright. I am thankful for the distraction as I know I could have allowed myself to dwell on morbid images of Mac's death the longer time progressed. The only way to help him now is to push aside my fears and torment and be strong for the man I love. That's the only way I can find him in time, I tell myself; that's what he'd want me to do.

"Bonasera," I answer. "Ralph, you have what?" I ask looking at Flack with a slight frown.

"Before he left Mac asked for surveillance footage of the Gibbons. Not sure why they had their place under watch but I have them."

"They might help us find Mac. Flack and I are on our way back."

"What?"

"Surveillance. If we can hear where they're taking Mac..." I start.

"Maybe we can beat them there. Let's go," Flack tells me as he rushes toward the front door. I tell myself that even though I know what Charles Gibbons is capable of I have to believe that we'll find Mac before he is killed. I gather up the box of his items and hurry after Flack; adrenaline the only food that is feeding my body and brain.

I hold onto Mac's things in the box as if my very life depended on it. Why the hell didn't I go to him sooner? All that time I spent wallowing in my own mis-guided guilt, his life was in peril. I stare out the window in misery; trying to imagine what he must be facing and I am once again feeling consumed by rage and guilt. If he doesn't survive this, I doubt I will either. Hold on Mac, I pray inside. I will find you; you have to believe that. I won't give up until I have you at my side once again.

Please just hold on...I will find...please hold on...

XXXXXXXX

With the Morphine mostly gone I can finally feel the pain from the cuts as I even move my body a little. Fresh tears burn my eyes as I try to in vain to get any kind of movement into my useless limbs that are still tightly bound. My wrists are aching and my mouth is dry but I doubt I'll get relief for either any time soon. I feel my stomach starting to lurch once more but all I can do is swallow back the bile and stomach contents, burning the inside of my lungs once more.

My mind tries to drift back when I first met Stella. That night. The night of the party when she trapped me in the apartment. The fire in her eyes; the smile on her lips; the faint scent of her perfume; her playful banter. I knew from that moment on that I was captured by her and never wanted another woman in my life.

I had at one time pictured Stella and me; working side by side; co-running the lab and trying to bring justice to the streets, one case at a time. Now that dream is lost; taken away by a madman that is bent on my everlasting destruction.

And as I lay here in captive misery I can't help but wonder what my life would have turned out like if I had met Stella long ago. Would it have been on the brink as it appears to be now? No, she never would have let me get this far.

I over a heavy curse at my own stupidity through my cut lips and close my watery eyes. I try once again to pull my wrists loose but only put further strain on my cut chest and lay back in defeat. My legs are tired and won't cooperate as my feet are still bound tightly together; I doubt I could stand now even if I wanted or was forced to.

I notice Marla coming back and kneeling down beside me and I can only offer a slight grimace. These people obviously intend to make every last second of my existence miserable.

What the hell am I in for now?

XXXXXXXX

The ride back to Mac's lab is one of tormented silence. Anything Flack mentions makes my mind race with tormented images and my eyes can only offer fresh tears. I am still clutching his items; as if that's all I'll ever have to remind me of the wonderful man that came into my life for such a brief period and then was taken away from me by a monster. I man I know I love but never took the opportunity to actually tell.

"Why can't this traffic move any faster!" I offer in a huff.

"Stella," Flack starts again.

"Sorry, just angry now; mostly at myself!" I hiss in anger. "Why did I turn him away? Why the hell didn't I listen?"

"Stella, if this guy wanted Mac alone he would have waited until you were gone."

"So either way my future was screwed?" I offer in a half yell. I look at Flack in remorse. "I didn't mean to yell at you."

"You did but I'm not offended by it," he replies with a slight frown. "If it was me, I would want Jessica yelling and threatening everyone with death to make sure I was found in time. Trust me, Mac knows you won't give up on him."

"Our last conversation..." I start in misery.

"Was a misunderstanding," Flack tries again.

"I just hope he believes that," I offer in sorrow.

"Trust me, Mac knows you won't just walk away on him if you know he's missing. Just like you know in your, he'd do the same for you."

I offer only a sad smile but inside my heart is racing in terror; I just hope he believes that. We finally reach the lab and both of us don't wait for the elevator as we rush up the stairs. Lindsay and Danny are at the Gibbons residence with a few other detectives trying to see if any clues can be found as to where they've taken Mac; Cyrus and Sheldon are still working on the old case files, hoping to find a clue also as to Mac's whereabouts.

"I'll get Ralph and the DVD and meet you in Mac's office," Flack tells me. I offer a nod as I numbly walk down the quiet hallway towards the open door. For a second as I round the corner, I see Mac, at his desk, look up and smile at me.

"Mac?" I ask in dead whisper. But as I blink away fresh tears, the image quickly fades and I'm alone in the room; my fists clenching in anger and remorse.

With a heavy curse I rush for the Gibbons file and then sit down in Mac's chair. I gently lay the contents on the desk beside me; my hand has to put the lid firmly back on. I know if I dare remove it again, I'll just stare at his items in anguish and get nothing done. I glance at the Gibbons file and curse once more. "Why the hell were these people allowed to reproduce?" I ask in anger as I look at the things they have been charged with.

"I will find you Mac, I promise. You just have to hold on," I offer sadly. "Can you do that? For me?" I ask myself as Ralph and Flack emerge.

"These people are monsters," I mention in anger.

"Mac thought so too until they came to him with news of their son missing," Ralph informs us. "Mac always suspected there was an angle to Charles Gibbons but I dont he would have guessed that Gibbons would go this far."

"Why all the games?" Flack asks with a frown.

"Jacob Gibbons' stalker did the same thing to him. Sent him text messages; voice mails and small tokens just to invoke fear. Then he was taken and Mac was sure he knew who did it. They got Jacob back and he and Mac made a deal to set a trap. However..." Ralph starts.

"The killer turned the tables and set his own trap," I finish in horror.

"And Charles blamed Mac for sending his son to the slaughter," Ralph concludes with a sad expression.

"The DVD?"

"Here you go," Ralph says quickly. "He said he'd be back in an hour," Ralph tells me in a soft voice.

"When did he leave?" I ask in false expectation.

Ralph looks at his watch and then up at me. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Tell me!" I lightly hiss.

"Well over an hour ago. Sorry."

"Hold on Mac," I whisper as I take the DVD and put it into Mac's computer. "Please just hold on."

XXXXXXXX

Marla hovers over me and I finally feel the noose around my neck starting to loosen. Once it's free my heart starts to beat faster once again at the thought that I am now nearing my final destination and I won't be able to see Stella ever again.

"Don't worry handsome," she smiles down at me as she kneels down slowly. "Charles just didn't want you to do the honorable thing and let take your life before he could."

I look into her eyes; searching for any kind of hope that I might cling too. Sadly all that looks back are two black pools; devoid of anything but murder and my own death.

"Once again you are looking for hope," she tells me as she firmly grabs my chin. "I want to see you bleed for Jacob's death just as much as my husband! Maybe more. You robbed a mother of her child; you offered me the same promise and failed; and now you must pay. You know my history; did you think I would just become some kind of wilting flower and let my son rest in peace? Nice try."

She grabs the knife and moves in closer. "Ever hear someone scream your name as you take their life? No? It's very rewarding. And while I won't cross Charles and take that gag out right now, when it comes time for your final breath you will call his name! You will beg for your life."

Go to hell bitch, I inwardly curse! And before I can react she opens another small cut on my other arm; the arm I am lying on. The weight of my body presses into the sweaty cut flesh and my eyes continue to water. Once again, not deep enough to do any permanent damage but enough to make me wonder what the hell I have yet to endure before my life is offered to them for good.

"I wonder if anyone is going to miss you when you're gone?" She asks mostly to herself.

I hope Stella will, I lament inside, part of doubting that even now.

She then leans in and starts to run her fingers along my trapped arm, her fingers in the blood; the knife following. "Oh stop trying to be so brave Taylor," she mocks. "I know you're in pain."

My breathing is starting to shallow and my stomach just wants to throw up whatever it can afford to lose. However as her bloody fingers start to play with the edge of the gag, then pushing their way past my lips into my mouth and I'm forced to once again taste my own blood in my mouth, I feel bile coming back up as the coppery sludge starts to seep down my dry throat. Some bile escapes my lips and pools in the already sweat drenched cloth stuffed in my mouth to keep me from either begging them to stop or trying to reason with them.

She offers a laugh and then finally leaves me alone once again. With the rope finally gone from my neck I am able to lightly stretch; but when I do, the cuts open once again and I curl up in agony; my body on fire.

Stella...I try again. Help me...please help me.

XXXXXXXX

My heart is racing as I slide the DVD into Mac's computer and wait for it to appear. I dont know if I want to watch what happened to him but I know in order to save his life I must; no matter the mental anguish that I'll suffer as a penalty for my ignorance. The picture appears and I am shown inside the house; where I watch as Charles and his wife get a few things ready and then just stand around waiting; Charles Gibbons is just hovering near the door.

"He was expecting Mac all along," I note as Flack sits down beside me. I hear a knock and watch as Charles opens the door to greet Mac. "Oh g..." I start.

"Do you want me to watch this instead?" Flack offers.

"I have to know," I insist. "I'll be okay. Just remove anything breakable within my grasp."

I listen as Mac confronts Charles but it's not until he agrees to enter his house that my guilt starts to soar. "He was right the whole time."

"Stella you can't blame yourself. Gibbons played us all," Flack reminds me.

"Mac knew. Why did he go alone?" I ask in misery.

"I guess you and him really are alike," Flack mentions softly.

"Not comforting," I frown as I watch in horror as Mac enters their place and then the door slams shut behind him.

'If you can open that door you can leave, I hear Charles taunt Mac. "I hope we find that guy in time, I want a piece of him," I state in anger.

"Me too," Flack offers.

My eyes automatically water as I watch Mac ambushed and then hit by the taser. But it's not until I watch as Mac pulls his phone, trying to dial me and then hear my own name that my heart finally shatters. 'She doesn't care about you!' Were the untrue words that Charles yelled at Mac, words that dance around in my tired brain. "Do you think Mac believes that?" I dare to ask.

"Gibbons is an ass!" Flack curses. "I doubt Mac believes anything he says."

"He'll believe that Charles is going to kill him."

"Stella, Mac will believe you are looking for him."

"But..."

"Hold onto that."

But even in his darkest hour, Mac called for me; despite our argument, he still wanted to call me first. And I wasn't there, I moan inside as I continue to watch Mac being tormented by Gibbon's ugly words.

I can only watch in helpless horror as Mac is tasered again and finally taken down. My fists ball up in anger as I watch him bound and then finally gagged; unable to beg for mercy or plead for his life. "Mac, no..." I whisper in torment. Just watching Charles taunt and torment Mac makes me want to throw up. Then I see the needle and my panic starts to build. "That's how they kept him subdued," I utter in horror. I look at the time of the attack and curse. I was just coming back from the hospital and wondering if I should go and see him. Stella! Stupid, I scold myself. This is all your fault! Mac's death will be on your head now.

"Someplace special?" Flack repeats what Charles told Mac. But just as he is about to pick up the phone, we watch as Mac makes one final attempt at escape and as I watch him smash into the window and then slam to the floor, my eyes immediately eye the box to my right. My eyes offer fresh tears as I watch Mac being kicked and then his feet tied but then my brain finally registers Charles threat.

"He's going to kill Mac the same way he did those boys," I offer in anguish, looking over at Flack in defeat. "Someplace special could be anywhere."

Flack picks up the phone and starts to talk to Cyrus; but I can only watch Mac's body starting to convulse on the floor after he's been given the drugs. He's alone and helpless and my mind can't help but wonder what he must have been thinking. I selfishly want to think he's thinking of me but know he's probably just thinking of a way to escape or wondering what kind of death awaits him.

"Oh Mac, I pray one day you'll be able to forgive me."

Then I watch as Charles comes back into the living room, kicks Mac again and then finally picks him up and takes him from my view, closing the door, stealing away my future.

Flack hangs up and looks at me. "Gibbons has a small motor home that is missing. I have an APB out on it but we need a direction."

I quickly pick up the phone and call Ralph. "Work with Adam on a description of the Gibbons motor home. Flack has the License. Then use whatever street camera you can to track their route from their place. Just get us a direction."

"On it!" Ralph rushes as he hangs up and calls Adam Ross.

"Good thinking," Flack lightly frowns as I hang up. "We'll get him in time Stella."

"And with all the hatred inside Charles Gibbons festering toward Mac for so long and knowing what kind of evil monster Charles Gibbons really is, what will Mac have to endure before we find him?"

"Hell."

XXXXXXXX

My whole body is on fire as I finally roll onto my back. I yell into the gag, as the pressure reopens some of the cuts and fresh blood starts to make small trails down my smooth skin. My whole body is warmer than it should be and my stomach is sick. The drugs area starting to wear off and I'm wondering if I'll be given anything further to keep me weak and at their mercy. Charles said he wanted me to feel every wound he inflicts and so far these have only been surface wounds, nothing life threatening; and none that will leave permanent scars. I actually laugh at that last thought as right now I should be worried about a death stroke instead of how I'll look when Stella finds me.

I try to roll onto my other side; to give my cut right arm some time to at least mend a little. I turn my watery gaze to the side of the van and close my eyes for a few seconds allowing the dark circles to subside. Sadly when I open them, my senses tell me I'm not alone. I slowly twist my head to see Charles kneeling down beside me.

"Oh this is actually better for me, Taylor," he smiles as I feel him tugging at my bound wrists. "Still nice and tight," he says, slapping me hard on the back. "I guess the morphine is wearing off by now," he mentions as he tugs at the back of the gag, forcing my head painfully back. My eyes can only look up into his as I finally start to feel the strain on my neck. "But don't worry," he says holding up another needle for me to see. "This one will make you feel all better. No morphine, only a muscle relaxant so I can still control you."

I only narrow my eyes and try to jerk my head away.

"Still some defiance left in you I see," he states in anger as he forces me back onto my cut arm; the original position I wanted so badly to be free of. Then without warning he punches me hard in the stomach, bringing fresh blood from the cuts and forcing me to choke on the bile that was forced into my mouth. I can only cough into the soaked gag and try to make the room stop spinning but it's to no avail.

"Ever lost someone you care about!" He shouts down at me. "Ever hold them while they die in your arms? Ever lie to someone you love, telling them everything is going to be okay when you know it's not!" He shouts in hatred.

I pull my head back and nod yes; I don't care what he thinks but it's the truth and all I can offer right now. I once again offer a light cough and he pulls out the knife and sticks it by my face, under the gag. Then without warning, he slices through the gag, thankfully leaving my face in tact but offering me another round of fresh panic attacks. For the first time in hours, I yell in agony, take in a deep breath of air and then throw up onto the floor whatever my stomach will allow; clear fluids mixed with drugs.

"Don't get used to fresh air Taylor, I have a dry gag waiting for you," he warns as he heads to the front. "I don't want to hear you try to talk your way out of your future demise."

"But..."

"Quiet!"

I drink in as much air as my bruised chest will allow and then lick my lips; not caring of the coppery taste that my stomach is now used to. My mouth is dry and my throat is raw from yelling and I wonder if saying anything further will even work. I watch Charles come back with another thick dry cloth and wince.

"No...more..." I huff, my mouth actually sore to offer speech.

"You suspected something all along about me right? I mean the kind of man I really am?" Charles smiles.

"The...devil?" I question with a hoarse whisper.

"Not all the charges over the years were true. But why did you want to help me in the first place? You knew my history? Knew the charges against myself and Marla? Why, after all the things we did, did you want to help us?"

"Jacob," I utter.

"Don't you dare use my son as leverage!" He snaps. "It was pity right? To prove you were better than us?"

I look at him in surprise. "No, it was...for Jacob..." I lightly cough. "Please believe m..." I try as he pulls me to a seated position. The blood rushes from my head as I am forced up too fast and the room starts to spin; black circles forming immediately and I can only fall back down, to which my captor laughs.

"You were in the Marines?" He mocks.

"I wasn't, drugged!" I snap in anger as I force my eyes back open. Charles pulls me back up and leans in. He moves in to gag me again but I try to move my head. Sadly he just elbows me in the cuts on my chest and I'm forced to accept the thick dry cloth between my cut lips once again. He ties the gag tightly behind my head and I'm once again forced into silent misery; offering defeated mumbles in my weak defense.

"I told you I don't care what lies you tell me. YOU LET MY SON DIE!" Charles forces me back onto my side; lying once again on my cut arm and then looms over me with the needle.

"No morphine this time," he smiles as he kneels down to face me. "Do you know that that means?" He asks in a dead whisper.

Yeah I'll be dead soon, I moan inwardly.

"DO YOU?" He yells to which I simply nod my head yes; rather to accept my fate and spare myself any further pain at the present moment.

"Good," he hisses as he plunges the needle into my neck. He quickly heads back to the front and I am once again consumed by haunting silence and body shakes.

Stella, my mind tries in vain. I love you. I hope one day you'll believe that I'm sorry that I never got to tell you myself.

XXXXXXXX

It seems like eternity but Ralph finally rushes into the room; his face flush and barely able to form a coherent sentence.

"We found...a direction," he rushes, handing me the computer print out.

I look at Flack in anticipation. "South, looks like toward DC."

"Isn't Mac from DC?" Flack asks.

"Where was Jacob Gibbons body found?" I ask Ralph.

"On the DC border, of sorts" he frowns. "It was odd but..."

"Let's go," I direct, not allowing him to finish; pushing myself out of the chair and heading for the door. "We'll work on the someplace special on the way."

"Stella, we..." Flack started and I look back in anger.

"The longer we wait debating on a place, the quicker Mac could die. Cyrus," I call out as I rush into the hallway, determination to save Mac the only thing driving me now. "You worked this case, I need you to drop everything else and work with Sheldon and figure out what kind of special place Charles would have taken Mac to. It would have to be where Charles, Jacob and Mac were at the same time. Not necessarily where Jacob died."

"I'm on it," he calls out.

I race for the elevator with Flack in tow and press B. I look at him in anxiety. "We better make it in time."

"We will."

"We have to."

Hold on Mac I'm coming!

XXXXXXXX

With the morphine wearing off my brain can finally try to think on where he might be taking me. I need to do something to keep myself mentally alert. However, the other drugs are still fresh in my system and I can't move anything I want to. My brain is telling my wrists to curl up and try to work at the knots on my feet but they refuse to listen and so can only painfully hang behind my back.

I close my eyes and try to focus on where we might end up and offer a prayer that someone will have noticed that I am missing by now. But Charles has waited this long to take me and I have a sinking feeling that Stella won't find me in time. As I lay here in defeat I can't help but think back to the beginning of this case; a time when my life has some semblance of reason and normalcy. Then I was told I had to work with Stella Bonasera; a woman up until that time I didn't really pay much personal heed; but after day one of working with her that all changed. And now I curse myself for not being able to go back and do things right. Will I ever get that chance? To hold her again? Kiss her again? Make love to her again? And when I finally realize I probably wont, my tired eyes water once more and I curse my very existence. Damn it!

I try once again in vain to try to move my wrists toward my feet; and while I feel pain in my chest from the cuts I know I have to try. Sadly I can't do much good and offer a heavy sigh into the dry gag. My throat can hardly swallow now and my stomach is on fire, but I can't give up; I need to keep trying, for Stella. She wouldn't want me to give up; she'd never let me. I try again to find some kind of give in my wrists and for the first time in hours, I finally feel a bit of movement. However, with this damn mussel relaxant starting to completely take over, I know my time is running short.

"Almost there," Charles calls out and panic seizes me once again.

Stella, help me! I call in anguish. Please help me.

XXXXXXXX

I sit beside Flack in misery. My mind tries to replay the few happy events I have shared with Mac, anything to keep images of his carved up body from popping into my anguished brain. I try to remember the amazing night I spent in his arms; our naked bodies pressed together as one and for the first time in hours I actually offer a sad smile. But when I think about the fact I might never get to even hold him one last time, never get to tell him what he means to me or how much I love him, my eyes water and I'm forced into morbidity once again.

"How the hell did we miss this?" I lightly demand in anger; not really expecting Flack to answer.

"Charles planned this perfectly," he offers in a soft tone. "From some of the things I read he knew what he was doing. Watched Mac for two years and got to know him."

"How could he let hatred consume him for that long?" I bare manage.

"That's what kept him going? All those other unsovleds he probably had a hand in, perhaps to see if he could do it. How else would those names add up to his son? You said Mac always suspected there was something more to them. Gibbons made sure there was."

"He played everyone as fools. Damn him!" I curse in anger. "And the Bryce boys? So it wasn't personal, they were just a means to an end."

"Charles needed letters," Flack huffs. "Stupid but it works."

I stare out the window once again. I try to picture the first dinner I took Mac too, the African dinner; the playful banter, the fire in his eyes, but even now, all my brain shows me is him bound and gagged and in pain. Offered drugs to keep him subdued so that Charles can have his way; slowly knifing him to death.

I look at my phone, willing it to ring, but it won't.

"Cyrus will call," Flack tells me. "He wants Mac back also. Maybe not for the same personal reasons but trust me he does," he tells me in a soft tone.

"I love him," I finally confess. "With all my heart."

"I know."

"Don, I never got to tell him and I might never be able to now."

"We'll find him Stella," he tries to assure me. But inside I know he has just the same doubts as me. Finally after what seems like a small eternity, my phone finally rings.

"Cyrus?"

"I think I might have found it, the place he's taking Mac," he rushes and I for once feel myself take a deep breath. "It was in the pictures."

"We'll need a helicopter?" I ask, looking at Flack who pulls out his phone and nods.

"Where Cyrus? Tell me, where are they taking Mac?"

"Here..."

Hold on Mac, I pray. Please for us, just hold on if you can. I will find you. I love you.

A/N: will she get to Mac in time? Duh duh duhhhhhhhhhhhhh! okay so don't sue me if you no have nails left! lol...just a bit more nail biting to go (evil grin)....please review and tell me what you think! and remember don't worry...I'd never kill of my favorite CSI....like EVER! I love him too much! lol thanks in advance, you guys SO ROCK!!