A/N - Wanted to do a story that was more mainstream compared to my other one. Not done a crime one before so hope it goes okay. :)

Inspired by a line from Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows that I watched yesterday.

Oh and WARNING now added in as it does get a little violent, as in keeping with the CSI:NY genre of show, so stay away if you don't like that!

Chapter One

The man ran.

He ran as fast as he could over the rocky ground, avoiding the trees and branches that hampered his plight. The dark of the night made it near impossible to see, the cloud low in the sky and the thick trees above him blocking any light that should shine down from the moon. He heard the rustling of the nighttime creatures all around him but wasn't deterred, no, he had to run. He mustn't stop. He couldn't stop. He could feel them ever so close behind him could feel death clawing at his back, pulling him back but he struggled on. Twigs and sharp rocks on the ground sliced into his bare feet, his shirt ripped as he passed too close to a bush but still he pressed on. His breath came in short, sharp gasps and he felt pain jolt up the side of his body. He was starved, his weak body dying of malnourishment and he could feel his energy draining with every step he took. He stumbled over a root and fell, slamming into the cold, hard ground face first. He felt pain in his forehead but staggered up and ran. His legs protested, muscles screaming in agony but he ran. His vision started to blur, eyes blinded by blood that dripped into them from the freshly made wound on his forehead. He wiped it away with a grimy hand. His chest heaved and lungs ached, cold air pumping through them as he ran. He ran as fast as he could. A bird suddenly took flight in front of him and shocked him; he jumped back and once more went staggering, managing to right himself before he fell. He risked a look behind into the blackness. There was nothing, he couldn't see anything but he knew it was there. Knew death was waiting should he pause any longer. He ran onwards, ran deeper into the unknown, heart racing, beats thumping loudly in his chest. He crossed a stream, the ragged hem of his trousers wetting as he raced on. He paused. Follow the stream. He turned and went back, following the stream down to the left. He slipped on the mud and fell crashing into the water. He felt it soaking through his few clothes. He knew it would have been heard. He had no time. They'd be on him in within seconds. He pulled himself up and ran. He ran as fast as he could. His wet clothes stuck to his body, the icy water and cold temperature freezing his body. His muscles still protesting, lungs still aching, heart still pounding. The cuts in his feet sent jolts of pain though his legs and tears burned in his eyes. He would have screamed, would have called out his agony despite the certainty of his pursuers hearing but he couldn't. His voice no longer worked. It hadn't for a long time. He ran. He ran further and further. Time passed before him, he knew not how long, he no longer had any notion of it. Time was one, it was a whole, it was a life. Not that he had one, he hadn't lived in years. Life was stolen, it was taken away and existence became the only truth he knew. And yet, and yet he still feared death. He feared it like a disease, like a virus that would destroy him and the existence he was trapped in. It was so close now, death was so close but so was freedom. He needed to run. He stumbled over the wet rocks down towards the faint light in the distance. If he could just reach it... He ran. The light was growing ever closer while death still clawed at his back. The thick blackness suffocating him. Tears burnt into his cheeks, blood dribbled down his face and he ran. The light. He must reach the light. He skidded to a halt as the ground abruptly fell away from right before his feet and he looked out into the night sky. The feeble moon's light gave him a small ray of hope. He looked down. The stream disappeared down the side of the sheer cliff face into the darkness below. He could hear the pounding water landing in the blackness as he looked over the edge. He could just make out the jagged rocks that pointed up from the ground far below him. He looked left. He looked right. He had to run. A rustle behind him made him turn. Death. Death was here. Death would have its day. Large, black shapes began to emerge from the trees. He was surrounded. Death would indeed have its day. He turned. He jumped. His body fell to the jagged rocks below. Broken. Destroyed. Death had won.

Jo walked slowly to her lounge window as she stared out across the city at the dawn of a new morning. A mug of warm tea was held in her hand and the steam rose quickly from it, clouding the glass. She smiled and then turned back to the room. Her phone buzzed on the coffee table and she made her way over to it and after checking to see who was calling she answered.

"Danville."

She walked back over to the window as she listened to the voice coming through the phone.

"No, she didn't notice a thing. She's not up yet."

Jo stroked a finger over the clouded glass, leaving a trail in its wake.

"I know, I know. But what else are we supposed to do?"

Jo sighed and walked back to her tea that she'd left on the coffee table. She picked it up and blew on it.

"Are you sure? I didn't think you wanted anyone to know."

She tried sipping at the beverage but drew back at realising it was still far too hot.

"Is it really that often?"

She laughed as she heard the reply.

"When do you want to do it?"

Jo looked up towards the hallway as she thought she heard a noise.

"You're so dramatic."

She laughed again at the reply she received down the phone.

"Well there's a first time for everything."

Jo hummed happily and then set the tea back on the table.

"I'll see you later then?"

She walked to the kitchen and retrieved the cereal from the cupboard, milk and orange juice from the fridge and a banana from the fruit bowl.

"You know if we tell Ellie, I'll have to tell Tyler too."

She opened a draw and took out a spoon and then went to the cupboard to get a bowl and glass.

"Thank you for this."

Jo smiled once more.

"Bye."

Jo set out the items on the counter and then smiled as her daughter appeared from the hallway, yawning.

"Who was that, Mum?" Ellie asked sleepily as she poured herself a glass of orange juice and then helped herself to cereal.

"Just work," Jo smiled as she peeled back her banana and began to eat it.

"Your boss is such a slave driver," Ellie moaned as she took a bite of her cereal.

Jo grinned to herself as she went to get her tea.

Mac pulled the Avalanche up to the curb and turned off the engine. He could see two officers standing guard at the entrance to the alley where he knew his crimescene lay. He paused for a moment and glanced at his phone. Then he speedialled number one and waited for the recipient to pick up. He smiled when he heard them answer.

"Jo. I take it Ellie didn't notice me sneaking out then?

He watched the two officers talking together as he listened to her answer.

"She's going to find out eventually."

He pulled the keys out of the ignition and placed them in his jacket pocket.

"We could sit her down and talk to her like an adult. I'm sure she'd understand."

Mac waited anxiously for her answer, hoping she wouldn't be afraid, they hadn't talked much about this.

"She's your daughter, Jo. She has a right to know if a strange man is sleeping in her home every other night of the week."

He hoped he didn't sound too pushy. He wanted them to move forward but they seemed to be stuck where they were until Ellie could be informed of their relationship.

"Don't pretend you didn't know."

He smiled as he heard her laughing.

"After this case is over. I don't want my mind on other things until we've solved whatever new monstrosity is waiting for me this morning."

He laughed as he heard the reply.

"I don't think anyone has ever called me that before."

Once again he found himself smiling as he listened to her laughter.

"There certainly is."

He watched as the officers looked back into the alley and chuckled at something. He wondered if Flack, whom he knew would be waiting for him, had said some sort of sarcastic comment to them.

"Of course."

He nodded his head next to the phone as he agreed with Jo's next statement.

"That's fine. Whatever you need to do."

Mac sighed as he knew the conversation was nearing an end.

"I'll see you later."

He hung up the call and then slid his phone into his pocket. Then he opened the car door and exited with his kit. Mac slowly made his way around the two officers and up the alley past the dumpsters towards the familiar figure of the tall detective with whom he had worked so many cases before. He saw Flack grimace and a frown appear on his face and Mac wondered what sight had caused such a reaction. Another day, another death as Flack always joked but how right he was. The familiar smell of death reached his nose and he inwardly sighed. The city would never learn, people would never learn how to be at peace with one another.

"Mac!" Flack greeted as he saw the head of the Crime Lab making his way towards him.

"Don. What have we got?"

"Vic is male, looks to be in his early forties I'd guess. No ID and from the look of him I'd say either he's been to the strangest costume party I've ever heard of or he's recently escaped from the loony bin."

Mac frowned as he walked round the last dumpster and the body came into view. Flack was right. The body of a man lay curled up in a foetal position next to the dumpster. He wore ragged and torn white scrubs that were almost black with dirt and mud. His head was shaved and his visible skin was covered in cuts and blood. Mac put down his case and knelt down beside him, snapping on his gloves before starting to examine the body.

"Rigor's not fully set in. I'd say TOD was between six to eight hours ago." Mac looked at his watch. "That's midnight to 2am."

"He looks like he's been running at some point," Flack observed as he pointed his pen at the dirty and bloodied feet of the body.

"Indeed," Mac replied. He moved nearer to the feet and scraped off some of the mud into a small clear dish and sealed it. "Certainly not on the streets. This mud must have come from a park or other similar ground."

"There aren't many parks nearby here," Flack mused. "But I'll get some officers to do a search of anywhere that could be a match within a five block radius."

Mac nodded and then moved onto the man's hands. "He has cuts on his hands too."

"Defensive wounds?" Flack asked, pausing and looking up from his notebook.

"No. They don't look like they were caused by a weapon. They'll need to be analysed back at the lab and it looks as though there's something caught in one of them."

Flack nodded and scribbled something in his notebook.

"Who found him?" Mac asked as he moved further up the body.

"Two kids. I questioned them before you arrived, scared outta their wits they were."

Mac looked up and exhaled in amusement when he noticed Flack looked rather pleased at that fact.

"Go on," he smiled.

"They were planning to bunk off school today. Came down here to smoke some cigarettes whilst they waited for their parents to go to work and got the shock of their life."

"I take it we can rule them out?" Mac asked.

"I'll check out their backgrounds when I get back to the precinct but it would seem unlikely," Flack confirmed.

"His eyes were closed?" Mac asked as he looked back at the body.

"The boys confirmed they were shut when they found him. They thought he might be sleeping at first."

"Did they touch him?" asked Mac, looking up sharply.

"One of them prodded him with a stick," Flack smirked. He turned and pointed to a piece of wood that was lying casually near the opposite wall. "That one there."

Mac nodded and then looked back at the body.

"You got any idea of COD?" Flack asked as he walked round to the head.

Mac frowned and pursed his lips. "There's no obvious COD that I can see," he replied as he moved the head. "Ah."

"What is that?" Flack asked in a tone that sounded as much like confusion as it did like disgust.

"These black marks appear symmetrically on either side of his head," Mac commented.

"What could have made them?" Flack asked.

"Something pressing against either side of the head," Mac murmured. His mind was racing.

"Like headphones?" Flack suggested hopefully.

"If he was in a psychiatric ward then this could be the result of electro shock therapy," Mac mused aloud. "Although it would have to be some very old fashioned apparatus."

Flack frowned again but wrote down Mac's suggestion in his memobook. "I'll give a call to all the state institutions."

"Thanks, Flack," Mac replied.

"How'd you think he got here?" Flack asked. "I hate to say it but those kids were right he does look like he's sleeping."

Mac stood up and looked both ways down the alley and then began to walk back the way he came. Flack followed at a distance.

"I think he crawled," Mac said after some time, smiling at Flack.

Flack walked over to where Mac stood and they both looked down at the ground.

"See here, there are marks in the dirt. It looks like he crawled up the alley and collapsed or fell asleep by the dumpster."

"And never woke up again," Flack added bluntly.

Mac followed the marks out into the street.

"Anything?" Flack called after him.

"Nothing. No sign of how he came across this alley," Mac replied.

Flack came towards him. "I'll get some of my guys to go two blocks from here and see if anyone saw this guy going past."

"Well either that or he was dropped here," Mac mused.

"You thinking he was dumped?" Flack frowned.

"I'm not sure. But so far none of this is making any sense. A man dressed as a psychiatric patient crawls up a seemingly random alley and dies yet has no visible wound on him that would cause death? How did he get here? Why was he here?"

"You got me," Flack shrugged.

"Better get to it then," Mac smiled and headed back towards the body.

Flack sighed and put his memo book away. He could already feel this was going to be a long case.

From across the street a man leant against a wall smoking a cigarette casually flicking the ash on the ground. His eyes narrowed as he watched the tall, dark haired cop and the short, older cop converse together. He took out his cell and played with it in front of him, subtly taking a picture of the two men who were completely oblivious to his presence. He smiled as he looked at it and then put his phone away. It would be quite easy to gain access as to who these two cops were, just in case they should be any trouble. He'd arrived too late to retrieve the body or destroy it, but he'd sure as hell make sure it didn't lead to any secrets being revealed. No, anyone who got in the way would have to be dealt with...in the most discreet of fashions.