A/N: This is something completely different than my other Story, Screaming Parker, but I've had an idea like this in my head. It's different, yes I know!!! Please, don't be offended that this is Danny/OC, and not D/L, and that yes there is some Lindsay bashing in the first to chapters. I hope you all enjoy. Please Review and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: Like most of us on here, I wish I owned the characters of CSI:NY, but I don't!! Logan is my character, however.

Also, thanks to BEG 75 for beta reading!!


CHAPTER ONE: Your Last Goodbye.

"Love is stronger than death even though it can't stop death from happening, but no matter how hard death tries, it can't separate people from love. It can't take away our memories either. In the end, life is stronger than death" --Author Unknown.

Twelve hours, and fourteen minutes ago she was fighting for her life. Twelve hours and three minutes ago she was fighting for her baby. Eleven hours and twenty minutes ago they told her she'd be dead soon. Ten hours ago she was saying her last goodbyes to her friends and family. Two minutes and twenty seconds ago she was alive.

Two minutes and 19 seconds ago Danny Messer had been strong. He held his wife as she clung onto his leather jacket, burying her head in his chest. She had complained she was cold. Her lips were blue, her fingers ice cold, her eyes had bags under them, and she was shaking nonstop. Her dark brown, almost black hair was greasy, and falling out in clumps. He had known almost eleven months ago she would more than likely be dieing. But when she woke up this morning in the hospital bed, he knew it would be her last day. She had gotten worse over night. There wasn't anything the doctors could do for her now, but give her medicine to go peacefully. They had done just that. They allowed Danny to stay in the room with her, at her request. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw.

He had held in all his tears today, he knew he had to be brave for her, but as soon as she passed away, he broke down. His baby was sitting in his lap, dead. The mother of his two-month-old baby girl wasn't alive anymore. God, if she hadn't been so God damned stubborn on having that kid, she'd probably be alive. If he had gotten a fucking vasectomy she'd be alive. They had agreed on adopting, so something like this wouldn't happen. The doctor warned them if she got pregnant, she would need a C-section, and that could cause the cancer to come back. It wasn't worth the risk, they had agreed. But then Logan Messer had to wear that skimpy ass yellow bathing suit at Stella's Fourth of July party. She had hopped around all day in that damned thing, and when they got home he'd had enough of her teasing, he ripped it off of her as soon as the door was shut. His mistake for being a horny bastard.

He must have got lost in his thoughts, because the next thing he knew, some bitch was trying to take his wife from him. He just held onto her tighter, kissing the top of her head. It was Mac who was standing beside him, and finally convinced Danny to let her go. Danny nodded his head, and watched the group of men take Logan Messer to the morgue.

He slowly stood up, and walked into the waiting room where Emily Conrad, Stella Bonasera, Aiden Burn, Don Flack, Louie Messer, and Mrs. Messer sat patiently waiting for the news on Logan Messer. They watched as Danny shuffled from foot to foot, stuffing his hands in his pockets, staring at his feet. He was debating if he should say that she was dead, or if he should just shake his head. He decided on the latter, knowing if he said the words out loud, if he heard the truth in his voice, he would break. It was bad enough that he watched her die, he couldn't admit it also.

He glanced at Emily Conrad, and saw the pain in her eyes. He knew how she felt. First Claire died, now Logan. She and Logan had been torn apart when Claire died. They had refused to believe she was dead. They swore up and down that she had found water, that somewhere in that disgusting mess of Ground Zero she had managed to survive. They refused to let Mac hold the memorial for his wife-the closure he needed to move on- because they knew she was alive. And two weeks later when Logan realized her big sister wasn't coming back, she told Emily that everyone dies, and God wanted Claire to be an angel for him.

Logan always had a way of making the worst scenarios seem justified. She could make anyone feel just a little better by explaining the reasoning behind something. Claire didn't make it out of the towers because God thought she was strong enough to be an example that the world needs change, that people need to learn to work together.

She had told Aiden when her brother was killed that he didn't suffer. For some miracle reason the adrenaline pumping through his body made what should have been a torture, an easy death. That her brother was lucky, and he loved her no matter what.

Logan had a way with words, and people. That's what Danny was going to miss most.

Mac helped Danny bring his daughter home two days later. He knew Danny would have trouble coming home to a house with the memories of Logan still floating around. He had the same problem with Claire. He'd sit down on the couch, and recall the last time he and Claire sat there together. He glanced at the kitchen table, and smiled when he remembered that three nights before she died she'd given him head right there after dinner. He couldn't sleep in his bed, because her side was still unmade, and every time he glanced at the fireplace Claire was there, trying to make S'mores with a fake fire.

Mac knew Danny would hurt, and he wanted to help ease away as much pain as he could. Because he wished someone could have helped him get over Claire. Mac Taylor had vowed he'd do anything for Danny to make Logan's death easier for him. "Get some sleep," Mac said, setting the baby in her bassinet. "Rule number one. The baby sleeps, you sleep." Mac explained, brushing dog hair off his white button shirt.

"I'm not tired," Danny said, though his eyes revealed otherwise. They had bags under them, and were red. Mac knew he was tired because he'd been tired since 9/11 three years ago. He was scared of sleep because his dreams brought Claire back into his memory. They burned the vision of her death into his brain. He had visions of different ways she could have died. Burning to death, actually being hit with the plain, even her surviving for days, and no one finding her. Starving, crying for help.

"You are, Danny," Mac said, going to the sink to put the dish that was in the sink into the dishwasher.

"Leave it there," Danny whispered. Mac nodded his head and did what he was told. "She ate a pretzel with honey mustard right before she went into labor. She loved pretzels."

"I know, Danny."

"I want her back Mac," Danny said, trying to hold back his tears. "I want to hold her again."

"I know."

Mac watched him stand up and go into his bedroom. He opened the door, and stared at the bed. It was perfectly made. Logan had a slight OCD when it came to making beds. It had to be perfect, so Danny was never allowed to make it unless for some reason she wasn't home. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't lie in that bed. It hurt too much to sleep in the same bed he knew the love of his life wouldn't ever be. It pained him to look at the perfectly made bed, but the clutter of his wife's nightstand. A book sat opened on the nightstand, and her glasses were set on the floor. Howie, their one year old Black Lab, sat perfectly still at the foot of the bed. He knew something was wrong, but he didn't understand what. Danny didn't know what was worse. Knowing someone you loved is dead, or not understanding why they wouldn't ever be coming back.

He shook his head, and headed back to the kitchen. Mac sat on the couch, leaning over baby Jade Claire Logan's bassinet, watching her peacefully sleep. She looked just like her mother. She had Logan's ears, and chin, even the same dark hair. The only thing Jade and Danny had in common was his nose.

"You hungry?" Danny asked Mac, sitting next to him. "I can make you some omelets…" he had trailed off when he remembered how much Logan loved his omelets.

She loved his omelets. They were the best things she had ever tasted, she had told him every time she ate them. She even admitted once she'd do anything he wanted for them. And Danny had gotten that dirty grin of his, and tested her to her limit. He'd asked for a foot rub, and even once handcuffed her to the bed, which she had always told him was off limits unless she was the one doing the handcuffing. He discovered he could get away with a lot if he woke up early the next morning to make her a stack of his omelets after he was in the doghouse the night before.

Danny Messer slept on the couch that night, wishing that Logan would open the door with a smile on her face saying, "Honey, I'm home!" the way she always did for a good laugh. But he knew he was only fooling himself, holding onto that hope. It would only hurt him in the end when she wasn't there for him, when he realized he had been let down.

He wished that she had listened to the doctors when they all told her that having a baby could ultimately kill her. Danny told her they could adopt, but she didn't want to. She was pregnant, and she wasn't going to kill her baby. She promised him that they could adopt their next child, and Danny had let her win.

He felt horrible for blaming his daughter for her death, but Mac had told him it was normal, and that it wasn't Jade's fault. It was nobody's fault, it was just easy to blame people, even the ones you loved, and eventually he wouldn't blame her anymore. When he let go he wouldn't blame the only thing he had left of his wife.

Danny figured he was right, because every time he looked at the little girl, he saw the love and sacrifice Logan put into that baby. Despite the fact he couldn't forget she was the reason his wife was dead, he respected her for never giving up on what she believed in. She was brave enough to give her life up for her daughter, no matter how stupid he thought she was.

"Danny?" Lindsay Monroe repeated Messer's name for the second time.

Danny shook his head, and realized he was standing in the hallway of the crime lab. He'd done it again; he went back to when Logan Conrad Messer was alive. He did that every time he thought of her, he'd zoom out and think about her.

He turned his head to the side, and glanced at Lindsay. "Yeah?" he asked, aggravated she pulled him from his thoughts.

"I was talking to you, and you zoomed out like an asshole," Lindsay barked, setting her hands on her hips. Her curls were ugly, he thought. Logan knew how to make her curls look like Stella's, not all loose, and Lindsay's curls made her nose look fat.

"You're a God damned spoiled princess bitch," Danny growled, storming off, leaving a pissed off Lindsay Monroe standing in the hallway. She let out an angry huff, and rolled her eyes as Flack approached her, chocolate donut in hand.

"What happened?" Flack asked, taking a bite of his breakfast. He stopped in front of Lindsay, but realized he'd soon regret it by the look on her angry face.

"Danny Messer is a douche bag!" She whined. "That's what happened!" She reluctantly folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her bottom lip.

"Look, Monroe," Flack said taking his third and final bite of the donut. "Cut him some slack this week. This is a hard week for him," Flack explained, chocolate donut crumbs falling to the floor.

"No one cuts me slack when I have a hard week," Monroe pouted.

Flack rolled his eyes. "Get over it, rookie," Flack chuckled, walking away.

Lindsay stormed out of the lab, pissed off everyone was still calling her the rookie. She wasn't the rookie anymore. Tess Flowers was, and had been for three weeks, yet they were still calling her the fuckin' rookie.

Danny Messer sat outside the Crime Lab, on a bench, trying to clear his head. He knew he should have never given Montana that nickname three months ago. He hadn't meant anything by it, but she took it the wrong way. Sure, Sid was right. Before Logan, the nickname would have meant something, a way to pick up a girl, but now it didn't mean a damned thing. The nickname was just a way of being nice. It meant nothing to him, but she had taken it as an attempt to flirt. Ever since then he felt the need to gouge his eyeballs out with a fork, and pop his eardrums at the presence of Lindsay Monroe, Queen of Cornfields.

He hated this time of year. It was when he remembered Logan the most. The second anniversary of her death was tomorrow, and he felt horrible. He always felt horrible two weeks after his daughter's birthday, he would go into a slump where he wouldn't shave, and sometimes refused to get up. Last year had been worse, Flack had to pick him up and throw him in a cab to get him to work. This year he'd come willingly, although Mac never put him on a tough case. He was ordered to help Adam with the DNA, because his head was elsewhere, in thoughts of the mother of his daughter.

Tess Flowers had quietly sat next to him, without his noticing. The new CSI was cute, he thought, but he'd never date her. He was pretty sure he'd never date again.

"Four years ago, I watched a gang stab my fiancé," she told Danny. She didn't look at him, she just stared ahead, the same way he had been.

He pushed his glasses back onto his nose, then set his hand back in the other one in his lap. "Why you tellin' me?" Danny asked, still staring across the street.

"I know you've got some past issues," Tess shrugged. "I wanted you to know you can talk to me about it."

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "If I wanted a shrink, I'd hire one," he replied ignorantly.

"What about a friend?"

"Flack's my friend."

"Why aint he out here then?"

"He knows to leave me alone. He knows if I wanna talk, I'll talk. Unlike you," Danny explained, coolly.

Tess nodded her head. "How come you don't like Lindsay?"

"I like her. As a friend, I don't date," he replied, standing up.

"Why not?"

"I've got other things to worry about than girls," he told her simply, walking back into the lab. He didn't understand how he had managed to keep his job. The first year of Logan's death he'd been put at desk duty, unable to keep his head in his work. It had taken him three months to even want to go back to work, and when he tried, he beat four men up for no reason. Nine months later, he had been back in his shell, calling out sick, not leaving his bed, and forcing Auntie Emmy to baby-sit Baby Jay. He was pretty sure he'd used enough vacation for three years, but Mac still kept him, and this year, he'd only missed one day of work and that was because Jade was sick, and Emily couldn't watch her last minute.

Mac had noticed that Danny was slowly starting to become more like him, and he was pretty sure that it was a bad thing. He was 99.9 % sure that if Danny became a workaholic like he was, that he would miss out on Jade's life, and she needed her father. She couldn't have two parents missing from her life.