Never, Until

By: ioanhoratio

A/N This is short and a little random, but I really enjoyed writing it. This falls between seasons 5 and 6. It's just a little one-shot about two people who are in tough situations and rely on friendship. I haven't written in a while due to other responsibilities-if you're a fan of DL then you need to get over to DLchem(dot)net and join up-but thanks to a little nudge from a good friend I found myself itching to get back to writing. Hopefully I'm not too rusty ^_^

Don Flack was angry at the sun. He couldn't understand why the day looked so bright and felt so warm when he was so cold. The grass of the cemetery was a lush green, and the sky a deep blue with big white fluffy clouds. It was one of the most beautiful days New York had seen in a while, and it pissed Don off. He knew all around the city there would be people reveling in the wonderful weather, making plans to enjoy the day, living their lives.

All Don wanted was darkness and rain. He wanted the world to mourn for her.

He stood silent and still, alone among the crowd that had gathered to honor Jessica Angell. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, a side effect of wearing his dark blues in the heat of the day. But he wasn't the only one. The streets had been washed in a seas of blue, as every available member of the NYPD had stood together. The harrowing sounds of drums and bagpipes had echoed through the streets, their sorrowful songs expressing what words could not. Don had sat in the church, unable to take his eyes off the box that would be Jess' home, wishing for nothing more than to be able to release her from her sleep.

The words of the Commissioner and Mayor had sounded noble, and honorable, and Don knew that if Jess had been there to hear it, she would have laughed and shook her head, and then probably would have challenged anyone who tried to call her a hero to a wrestling match. He had wanted to laugh, but the sound had died in his throat. Every moment brought with it the realization of the things he would never again do with her.

They had left hundreds of fellow officers behind, the processional of horses, and media-all returning to their normal activities while only a small group had continued on to the burial. Don stood behind her parent, his height allowing him to easily see the dark rich wood of the casket. He was surrounded by Jess' brothers and their families and a few friends from the department and crime lab. He thought the church had been quiet, but that was nothing compared to the stifling silence that engulfed the group now. All the words had been spokes, all the prayers had been offered, and all the songs had been played, the only thing left now was to walk away and let them lower her down into the ground.

No one moved.

Don wanted to hold his breath, to will time to stand still and never allow that moment when her body would be entombed in darkness. His chest burned, forcing his lungs to take in air on a strangled sob. He quickly moved to a hand over his mouth, and closed his eyes in an effort to keep from losing it. He squeezed his lids together so tightly that he started seeing colors swim through the black. He took slow deep breathes, the smell of dirt tickling his nose. He feared opening his eyes, feared being blinded.

An infant's wail filled the air, and Don whipped his head around in surprise, his eyes flying open. The sound of life seemed foreign and strange amongst so much tragedy. Don wasn't the only one to be caught off guard, as heads turned toward the sound.

Lindsay Messer blushed deeply, mouthing the word sorry, as she scrambled to pull a pacifier out of the bulky bag she had next to her feet. A small bundle was wrapped tightly around her body, squirming and whimpering. Lindsay stood, patting her daughter's bottom through the sling, and gently, but swiftly stuck the pacifier into Lucy's mouth. The baby quieted as Lindsay bounced her, and her gaze locked with Don's. He could see embarrassment in her tired eyes, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile.

The cry had broken the hold of desperation, and slowly people began to move away. Don turned back towards the casket, and watched as others placed flowers or a kiss against the hard surface before they one by one walked away. Soon it was only Don left; he couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched in horror her being slowly lowered down into the earth. His mind pleaded with him to leave, to not remember her this way, but his feet wouldn't move from that spot as the irrational, desperate part of his heart still held to the idea that all of this was a mistake, that she wasn't gone.

Caught in this damnation, Don didn't hear the approaching footsteps and jumped when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He again found himself gazing into Lindsay's eyes. He frowned in confusion.

"Come away Don," she spoke softly, her small fingers still holding to his clothes, "Come away. You don't want to see this."

Lindsay pulled lightly, and Don's body numbly followed her prompting. He stumbled slightly, but immediately righted himself, his back now towards the final resting place of Jessica Angell. He focused his attention on the petite woman that stood before him. He watched as she unconsciously swayed back and forth in the age old dance of motherhood, calming her fussy child, even when her own emotions were in turmoil. Her face was pale, the dark bruising under her eyes stark in comparison. Her shoulders were slumped in exhaustion, but he felt waves of nervous tension flowing from her. For the first time he could see the scar of the pain he was experiencing reflecting back at him. Lindsay had stood where he stood now.

"What...what are you doin' here Lindsay?" he choked out. He had left her at the hospital just that morning. He and Lindsay had been together for nearly three days straight. He knew how worn out she was, and he knew that there wasn't a lot in the world that could pull her away from her injured husband's bedside.

Understanding his question, and not taking offense, she answered soothingly, "You need your best friend today, Don, and since he..." she hesitated, finding her words strange against her lips, "since he can't be here...I just thought, maybe you could look to me as a temporary stand in."

Don felt a new rush of emotion flow through him as he stared at this tiny woman. She seemed so fragile, and child-like, but her strength knew no bounds. Her husband lay in a hospital bed, paralyzed from the gunshot that had torn through his body, but she was there for him. He continued to stare at her, unable to think, to speak. He watched as her expression of sympathy changed to one of unease and she rushed to explain, "Not that you have to. I...just was worried, and I knew Danny would be here if he could. He would be here for you. I'm sorry to bring Lucy, but Danny's parents are at the hospital with him, and Lucy's been there all morning. I would have worn my dress blues, but...well, I can't really fit into them right now and..."

Don cut off her ramblings by pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly, mindful of the little life that hung between them. He sobbed against her shoulder, oddly comforted by the smell of baby powder and milk that lingered on her clothes.

"Help me," he whispered, "help me walk away. I don't think I can on my own."

Lindsay wrapped her arms around the tall man, her own tears now flowing down her cheeks, and allowed him his moment of release. Her world spun with pain, sadness, and uncertainty right now, but at least Danny was alive. She would go and see him, hug him, kiss him, talk to him, be with him, but Don was saying goodbye to all of that with Jess. She made no move to speak words of comfort or promise a future of healing, she simply stood as firmly as she could against his greater build and held him.

His cries soon quieted, and he stepped away from her, avoiding her eyes, mumbling apologies, but Lindsay wouldn't allow him to be embarrassed, and she reached out, tugging his chin up. "Don't ever apologize for missing her," she commanded tenderly. She moved her hand away from his face and instead reached out, taking his much larger hand into her grip. "Now, one foot in front of the other, one step at a time," she advised.

Neither spoke again as she tugged him along, only pausing long enough to grab the large diaper bag, which Don immediately took from her. She led him passed the countless stone markers that indicated lost loved ones, and passed the happy, brightly colored flowers.

The End

Thanks for reading!

If you didn't like it you can just blame afrozenheart-as usual-LOL!