Killers

By Dimgwrthien

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates.

Douglas Marino, the second serial killer to cross the border into the jurisdiction of New York, ran down the alley. The walls, dank and grey, blocked him from moving, and he felt like a trapped animal. A vicious animal, but a trapped one. One way to go - up. He stared up at the tops of the quaint houses, almost amazed to be under them not for pleasure, but for pain.

"Freeze! NYPD!" came a shout, and he glanced over to see three cops blocking his only real exit. The man stood with his gun aimed right at his forehead, glaring him down. Douglas looked at the two girls, trying to see if there way anyway through either of them. Both wore heels, but they both had guns on him, too.

Douglas smiled. If only they knew.

He grabbed into his coat, ignoring the man yelling at him, and pulled out two guns. He aimed one at the man and another at the stronger-looking woman. That should get him some time. Once he pulled the trigger on both, the group seemed to slide to the side. The woman he didn't cover tried to push the man out of the way while he pushed the second woman out of the range of fire.

In the end, the first woman fell to the ground, her gun dropping to the side. The man was driven to his knees, grabbing his arm lamely. The last one only slipped, then pulled her gun back up. Douglas glanced up again, if only for a second, and looked back at the woman. There was no way he could past her unless he shot. He glanced at his gun, waiting. Why wasn't she shooting yet?

Finally, he shot. She fell to the ground, but not from being hit. Finally, the woman shot back at him, and Douglas felt something go through a part of his arm.

She walked over, heels clinking against the ground, and Douglas wondered if he was going to die with her standing above him, looking down, pulling out handcuffs and giving him a dirty look.

"You son of a bitch," she snarled, handcuffing him and kicking his back. "You damn son of a bitch. Stay right there."

He couldn't see her before his face was smacked into the gravel, but he listened to her shoes clink away again, this time faster.

Stella kneeled down against the ground, trying to look over both Mac and Lindsay. Mac finally sat on the gravel, removing his hand from his arm. Both were bloody, and Stella took only a second to look at the wound before Mac pushed here away.

"How's Lindsay?" he asked through gritted teeth. Stella gave him one last look before trying to look over Lindsay. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the bullet through Lindsay's chest. Her eyes were half-closed and her breathing heavy.

Mac pulled off his jacket, bundling it up and pressing it to Lindsay's chest with his good arm. "Stella - get the cell phone from my belt. Call the paramedics."

She looked down at her own belt, seeing that her own cell phone was missing, then grabbed his. She dialed quickly, looking at the bit of blood that her fingers left. She glanced back at Lindsay, who continued to breath harshly under Mac's strong hold on her.

"Officer down. Send paramedics down Palm Court. Back of the alley." She paused, listening to them. "Goddamn it, just send a paramedic. We have a killer, an officer shot in the chest, and another officer who's too arrogant to admit he's hurt." She listened to them tell her that they were on their way and not to worry, then hung up.

"I'm not being arrogant," Mac told her, continuing to put pressure on the gunshot. Lindsay's eyes opened a bit again, and her mouth seemed to be moving. Mac leaned in slightly, smoothing the hair from her face back.

"You are," she whispered, a bit of blood coming past her lips.

Mac didn't answer to it. Instead, he continued to put pressure on the wound, then removed the jacket to look. It was a ragged wound that sliced through her shirt, staining her skin and shirt a dark red. Mac put the jacket back on, using a cleaner piece of fabric.

"Goddamn it," Stella hissed, looking up the alley. "They take so damn long to get here!"

"Make sure the suspect is alright," Mac told her, motioning with his free arm. The injured one sat softly on top of the jacket, still bleeding down his blue shirt.

Stella gave him a confused look, but walked over to Douglas, who hadn't rolled over yet. She moved him up into a sitting position.

"I'm bleeding," he told her lamely.

"I know." She glanced at the wound through his shoulder. "Quit complaining. You're lucky I'm not sending you right to prison. You're going to the hospital."

Douglas smiled at her. "Oh, nice. Now I know how my victims felt during their last days."

Stella stood up, kicking him in the shoulder as she went. Douglas screamed at her. Stella found herself looking up at the windows in the surrounding houses to see if anyone could hear anything.

Mac looked up at Stella. "I didn't mean to hurt him." Stella shrugged, then leaned down again. Lindsay looked back up at her, her breathing starting to ease a little.

"Is she alright?"

"I'm pretty sure. Lindsay? How bad does it hurt?"

"Pretty bad," she answered in a low and broken voice. "Better than before, though." She coughed, a spray of blood landing on her neck and chest.

Mac frowned, turning to Stella. "Grab the jacket. Keep it in place - don't make any moves. I can't feel my arm." Stella grabbed the jacket quickly, trying to keep her hands directly above the wound instead of around it. Lindsay groaned.

Mac started to unbutton his shirt with one hand, finally pulling the sleeve over his injured arm to get a better look at it. Stella could see the glint from the bullet and winced. Mac took off the dress shirt, finally tying it as tightly as he could around it. He put his hands near Stella's on the jacket.

Stella glanced up at his face, looking at him. He stare down at Lindsay, so she couldn't see his expression clearly. He seemed to be breathing as unevenly as Lindsay, and Stella had a feeling it wasn't from the wound.

"Paramedics," she whispered, glancing down the street. The ambulance pulled up close, its sirens wailing. Trailing behind was a police car. Three of them climbed out of the back, followed by the driver. Two of them picked Lindsay up, putting her on a stretcher, handing the jacket over to Mac. Another one took Mac by the arm and led him into the ambulance.

Stella waited until both were in, then glanced over at the police officer who had the man in handcuffs and was leading him to the police car. Turning back, Stella jumped into the ambulance before the doors closed.

Lindsay was already partially hooked up to the IV drip and oxygen. Mac glanced up at Stella, one of the paramedics trying to fill up a needle, then inserting it into Mac's arm. Mac winced slightly.

"Alright?" Stella asked him.

Mac didn't answer, but glanced at Lindsay, whose eyes were starting to close. "How is she?"

The paramedic hovering over Lindsay glanced at the monitor hooked up to her. "Pulse is slowing. Not enough to put her in danger, but enough to worry. Leave it to us, and she'll be fine."

Mac winced again as the paramedic used a pair of tweezers to pull the bullet from its shallow lodging in Mac's arm. He glanced at the paramedic, who slipped the bullet into a tray, then covered it. He pulled out a bandage and started to bind Mac's arm.

The monitor started beeping loudly. Mac and Stella both stared down Lindsay and the paramedics, who rushed around the cramped space, trying to reach equipment around the stretcher.

Finally, the monitor gave off a long, final beep that filled the ambulance with noise and commotion.

One of the men ripped her shirt down the center where the v-neck dipped down. He took a small jar and rubbed a thick layer of an orange paste over her, then motioned for the other man to use defibrillator on her. His voice shouting the orders seemed to drown in the long beep from the machine. When Lindsay's body jumped from the shock, the beep continued on and on. He tried again, yelling out the lost instructions, then again, until he put down the two paddles and looked up at Mac and Stella.

Stella put a hand over Mac's and looked at him again. He just stared down at the body.

"Mac?" she asked.

He didn't answer again, but continued to look down at her. Then he glanced at Stella, then to the paramedic, then looked back at Stella.

The ambulance rounded into the hospital parking lot, the doors opening. The paramedics slowly moved her body out. Stella grabbed his head and forced him to lean against her as he just watched.