A/N This will be a short three part fic. It is more angsty and dark than my other fic and I am trying a bit of a different style. Enjoy!
Summary: Lindsay panics and goes to the one place she can feel safe, if even for a moment.
Set: Between episodes 3.12 and 3.14.
Spoiler: Up to The Lying Game, 3.14
Disclaimer: I don't own the show CSI: NY or its characters.
Thanks to SallyJetson for the beta.
Chapter 1:
She looks at the door in front of her as she raises her hand to knock, stopping just before it meets wood, and lowering it to her side once again. What was she doing here? She shouldn't be here. Her brain is filled with a million different thoughts all rushing a thousand miles an hour, making her every action seem in slow motion and requiring more energy then she possesses.
She is there because she can't take it anymore. She can't take the thoughts, the visions, the memories. All of it hammers her psyche unrelentingly. She doesn't feel safe; she needs to feel safe, and the last time she did was months ago, but she longs for that feeling again.
FLASHBACK
A gun is pointed at her head. A real gun, held by a real criminal who had already killed a real person and wouldn't be afraid to do it again. Not only is her life in serious danger, but so is the girls' she's come to protect.
Her breath is caught in her throat as the man compares her to a photograph and slams it down again, breaking the glass along with her courage.
"Try again. Who are you?"
She is frozen in place as the fiend continues to holler out his question with more frustration and anxiety each time. The ice in her veins finally starts to melt and her fingers open releasing the millions in diamonds and the flash grenade to the floor.
The bag hits the floor with a soft thump and she waits a moment before forcing the rest of her body to take action as she jumps to cover her charge. The next thing she knows a loud bang sounds and resonates in her ears while the room fills with smoke. She stays in place, partly winded from her movements and partly because her lungs have filled with smoke, and it takes her a moment to regain her much needed oxygen.
She knows there is motion behind her but she can only hear the faintest of noise through the ringing in her ears as she continues to pant for breath. Through the static one voice sounds and it takes her a moment longer than necessary to identify it but she tries to focus on it alone because it gives her the strength to turn around and answer its call.
"Danny," is all she says as she makes him out through the smoke. They move towards each other without need of ceremony, and he only spends a moment to make sure she is all right before pulling her into his arms properly. He rests his head on hers and he wraps his arms tightly around her. She continues to pant for breath and she can't tell if it's from the smoke, from him squeezing the limited air from her lungs, or from the fact that her body is closer than it has ever been to his and she can feel the electrical charge even through the bullet-prove vests.
She uses her hand to latch onto his shoulder to reassure herself that he is really there. She feels like she could stay in his arms forever as she senses their strength, knowing that she is safe, that nothing can harm her. It all starts to feel like a dream as the exhaustion takes over and that thought repeats itself continually through her mind. I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm finally safe.'
END FLASHBACK
Why is it that she has never felt safer than in those arms? Right now more than anything she needs to feel secure. At home alone in her apartment her demons come for her. She tried to distract herself but tonight nothing would work. She isn't sure if it is from the stress of the ever approaching trial or her recent sleep deprivation, but tonight has been the worst as her horrors plague her, some real and past, some imaginary, but the scariest ones are the ones that cause her to want to take action; action to end it all and finally make it stop.