How To Save a Life
By: ioanhoratio
A/N Yeah, I couldn't resist. After watching the premiere and a certain scene over and over and over and over...you get the picture...and over again, I had to write a tag-on. Since Laurzz did a stupendous job with a post episode on-shot, I decided to write one that happened during the show...sorta... you'll see what I mean. I hope you enjoy! Also, I am not abandoning Standing Stone, but I had to get this story written and out of they way so I can focus on finishing the last chapter of S.S.
"Hey, Messer, what're ya doin' in my neck of the woods?" Don Flack called to his friend. It wasn't unusual to see the CSI in the precinct, but he knew Danny was working on the case involving the murdered girl they'd found in the crime lab, and as far as Don knew they didn't have anyone new to interview.
Danny turned from the elevator doors he was waiting on. "I'm jus' poppin' in ta see someone," he answered vaguely.
Don frowned slightly, but didn't press the matter. "You eat? I was about ta grab a sandwich if ya wanna join."
Danny smiled. "Thanks man, another time. I'm not sure how long this is gonna take," he admitted, reaching out to push the elevator's up button again.
"What business ya got upstairs? Did Mac finally decide you're out of your noggin' and recommend therapy?" Don teased, referring to the department's therapist's office two floors above.
"Yeah," Danny laughed, "Somethin' like that, or maybe lookin' at your ugly face has driven me crazy."
"That hurts Mess," Don whined, then still taking in the fact that his friend was avoiding discussing his reasons for being there, he added in a more somber tone, "Hey, I'm not tryin' ta be all in ya business or anything, but you'd tell me if somethin' was wrong, right?"
The elevator doors finally opened, signaling the arrival of the lift, and Danny shot his arm out, ensuring the doors stayed open, and said lightly, "Yeah Flack, I'm just making sure everything's good, ya know?"
"You mean with Lindsay?" Don asked, lowering his voice.
Danny's head whipped up and he gave Don a questioning look. "How did you..."
"She didn't seem to keen today at the ceremony," Don answered. "I was worried about 'er, and I take it you are too."
"Don, I gotta a wife and kid," Danny said, raising his eyebrows, "I'm worried most of the time."
Don nodded, taking the hint. If Danny or Lindsay needed his help then they would let him know, but they weren't to that point yet. Changing the subject he asked, "So what d' ya think of Jo Danville?"
Danny stepped fully into the elevator and pushed the button for his desired floor, the quipped with a grin, "She smart, much too smart for the likes of you."
Don snorted, and shouted through the closing doors, "That didn't stop Lindsay from marrin' your dumb ass."
Danny cupped his hand behind his ear and shook his head, trying to give Don the impression that he couldn't hear.
"Son of a bi..." the elevator doors slid close, cutting off Flack's colorful remark.
Danny gave a small laughed at his pal, then sighed. He had wondered if coming here had been the right thing, but hearing that Don too had noticed Lindsay's demeanor today, her reticent behavior and was worried, helped bolster his decision. He knew he was sensitive when it came to his wife, and definitely could never be called objective, so it was nice to hear that his worries weren't unfounded.
The elevator soon stopped, and the doors opened for his exit. Danny stepped out onto the soft neutral colored carpet, and noted how different this floor was from the busy, messy precinct downstairs. This floor was painted with clean white on the walls and enhanced with paintings of various interpretations of a pastoral paradise hung everywhere. Under different circumstances Danny would have tried to figure out a way to tease his wife about her country girl heritage using those paintings, but he had learned enough in his married life to know that sometimes teasing wasn't the best route. Instead, he used his considerable brain power to guide him to the correct office, wishing now that he had paid closer attention when Lindsay had told him the name of the therapist she had been assigned: Johnson, Jameson, Jefferies? He searched the names that were posted neatly on the wall. Then his eye caught the name Dr. Morgan Jefferson, and he knew immediately that was who he was looking for.
He made his way down the well lit hall until he found the correct office number, and pushed the door open. Danny found himself standing in a small waiting room, it was empty except for the receptionist that sat behind a deep brown wood desk. Her head rose at the sound of the door closing and she offered Danny a smile.
"Can I help you sir?" she asked, pleasantly.
"Yeah, my wife was here earlier today an' I was jus' wonderin' if Dr. Jefferson would have a quick moment ta speak with me," Danny said, using his skills as an investigator to keep his voice firm, but inviting, and bringing his hands to his hips, drawing attention to the badge that was clipped there He wasn't beyond using his knowledge of law enforcement to get what he wanted.
The woman frowned slightly. "You don't have an appointment?"
"No," he answered directly, but softened it with a smile, "I was jus' hopin' the doc would have a few minutes available to talk to me."
"We don't usually except walk-ins," the woman told him. Her own voice authoritative. Apparently, her experience with the police kept her from being easily intimidated and Danny cursed silently in his head. He should have known that tactic wasn't going to work in this particular office. He needed a new game plan.
"Sure, I understand," Danny began, "I wouldn't normally try an' get any special treatment or anything. It's just that I'm really worried about my wife, an' we have a little girl, ya see." Danny pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, opening it to one of his favorite photos of Lucy; she was holding the tv remote up to her ear acting like it was a phone, with princess purse hanging from her shoulder, and balancing precariously in a pair of Lindsay's heels, and looking quite the little business woman.
He handed the wallet to her, and as expected, the woman's stern features softened. "Oh, she's adorable."
"Yeah," Danny grinned proudly, "She sure is. Anyway, I'm jus' worried 'cause my wife has been so down recently. Lucy, that's my little girl, an' I really love 'er and wanna take care of 'er, and I was thinkin' today maybe Dr. Jefferson could help us."
The woman pressed her lips tightly together, and looked down at the photo. "Well, she's with a patient right now, so you'll have to wait, but then I'll see if I can't get you in for just a few minutes," she relented, handing his wallet back to him.
Danny gave her his best Messer grin. "Thanks so much. It really means a lot."
"I can tell," the woman answered softly. "Just have a seat over there."
Danny followed her instructions and sat on the hard leather of the couch. The phone rang and the receptionist answered, leaving Danny a chance to just sit and gaze around the office. It wasn't often the busy CSI, father, and husband, had a chance to just sit and relax. Danny's eyes traveled around the room and he couldn't help but smile as he pictured his wife sitting on the couch waiting for her turn. He knew she would be waiting because Lindsay had a habit of showing up early. Her early bird mentality and his lazy boy attitude worked well together, when combined it ended up that they would arrive wherever they were expected right on time. During his musings Danny's scrutiny directed him towards something shining in the trash can. He narrowed his eyes, straining to see what was glinting in the light. He saw a familiar green ribbon, and sighed.
He pushed out of his seat and walked over to the waste container, and sure enough, Lindsay's medal lay partly obscured by some papers. He reached down and rummaged around enough to grab the Combat Cross. He glanced up and found the receptionist staring at him in confusion.
Danny blushed. "I...ah...found...my wife must'a dropped this." He was saved from any further explanation as to way he was poking around in the trash can by the opening of the door behind him. He shoved the medal into his pocket, and turned.
A young officer Danny recognized from a few crime scenes, but couldn't remember his name, walked past him. The two men avoided eye contact, and gave no greeting, simply ignoring each other until the officer had stepped out of the office.
"Can I help you?" the beautiful woman with long dark hair asked.
The receptionist jumped up from her chair and came around to stand next to Danny. "Dr. Jefferson this is Detective..."
"Messer," Danny supplied.
"Oh! You're Lindsay's husband," the receptionist smiled, then quickly recovered, adding in a more somber tone, "Detective Messer was hoping to have a moment to speak with you. I explained we don't usually accept walk-ins..."
"It's fine, thanks Tracie," Dr. Jefferson interjected then turned to Danny, "Shall we step into my office Detective?"
Danny followed the doctor, and stood shifting from foot to foot while he waited for the doctor to close the door. She came around and motioned for him to sit on the same couch his wife had been perched on earlier in the day, then sat in her own chair.
"How can I help you Detective?"
Danny cleared his throat and began, "I was jus' wonderin', I know that today was Linds' last session an' I was just curious if you thought she was good to stop or if it might help her to continue. I know our health insurance currently really only covers department mandated therapy, so I was wonderin' if you thought it would be worth lookin' into if we should add somethin' to our policy."
Dr. Jefferson gave Danny a small smile. "I'm limited in what I can tell you Detective, but I can tell you I'm concerned about your wife. I don't think continued therapy would be a bad idea, however, I was told by Lindsay today, under no certain terms would she be continuing."
Danny sighed. He had been afraid of that, though he couldn't blame Lindsay. The idea of talking about important and emotional issues to a stranger had very little appeal for him, and he knew how private his wife was. He would accept and respect her decision.
He nodded. "A'right, so that's that I guess. Thanks for your time Doc," he said, standing, and offering his hand.
She too stood, and shook his proffered hand. As he was walking towards the door she called, "Detective, just make sure she knows she deserves that award. Help her to know how much what she did means to you and to your family."
Danny nodded again, then made his way out of her office.
It wasn't long before Danny found himself back at work, stepping off the elevator onto the 34th floor. He knew Lindsay should be back at work now, and took a direct path towards their shared office, anxious to speak with her. As he walked the distance, he couldn't help but finger the cold smooth surface of the medal in his pocket. He had decided to wait until they were both at home to discuss the award, but he couldn't wait that long to at least verify she was doing ok. The conversation he'd had with the therapist had been short, but it had revealed enough to him to know Lindsay was hurting. Danny had gotten the sense that Lindsay and the therapist hadn't parted on great terms. His wife wasn't the kind of person to lash out. She's have to be pretty upset about something in order to provoke that kind of response.
He frowned in concern when he entered the office. He figured the big black case sitting on the desk to be Jo's since he didn't recognize it, but the mess that was on Lindsay's desk gave him pause; her purse and coat sat forgotten, some packing stuffing, a box, a picture frame, and what appeared to be a letter. She wasn't one to walk away from clutter, always preferring to keep her things tidy and clean.
Upon closer inspection Danny noted the box had been addressed to Lindsay and that it was from Stella. He picked up the letter that had been set aside and read it. He smiled slightly at the encouraging words Stella had written to and about Lindsay. He missed her calm, reassuring mothering sometimes. He lifted the picture frame to see what Stella had sent, and felt his nervousness grow. Obviously, something had happened, otherwise Lindsay would never have left Stella's gift so neglected, and Danny had a guess at what that something was.
Danny's eyes moved up from the Franklin P. Jones quote to see Jo make her way back into the office, her arms loaded with papers.
"Went downstairs to shove some of these papers in my locker, got all the way down there, only to realize I'd left the combination up here," the older woman complained good-naturedly. "And all I can hear is my mother's voice in my head saying 'Jo, if that head of yours wasn't screwed on, I'd swear I'd find it in the laundry basket.'"
"Yeah," Danny answered distractedly, looking back down to the framed quote in his hands.
Jo set ger papers down, and offered hesitantly, "I don't mean to stick my nose where it doesn't belong, but I met Lindsay a few moments ago, and I realize I don't really know her, but I think that whatever you're holding in your hands my have upset her."
"I figured," Danny sighed, setting the gift down on the desk. "Did you happen to notice if she headed towards the elevators?"
"I believe she did," Jo answered evenly, not wanting to intruded, but suspecting the young, distressed woman she had met earlier may be in need of a friend. She didn't know much about Danny and Lindsay's relationship, although it had to be going well enough for them to be working together, and from what little time she'd spent in Danny Messer's company she'd heard enough about Lucy and Lindsay to know they were his favorite topics. Jo was a bit of a romantic at heart and in her mind she preferred to assume the couple to be madly in love, so it only made sense to nudge a concerned husband towards his distraught wife.
"Thanks," Danny threw over his shoulder as he passed by her. The look of determination on his face confirmed Jo's hypothesis. Only a man deeply and truly in love wore an expression like that when going after a woman. She grinned, excited to get to know them both better and to work with them. Her grin slip to a frown as she realized she wasn't quite sure where she had left her locker combination, and with a huff began digging through her stack of stuff.
Danny, upon hearing Jo's observation, had switched into single-minded mode-find Lindsay. He knew his wife, and knew she would not want to be seen having an emotional moment, so he headed to the one place in the busy building where she would be alone-or rather the one place on the building.
As he pushed open the loud metallic door, he heard voices being carried by the strong wind, and hesitated. He hadn't expected anyone else to be up there and for a moment worried he had made an incorrect assumption. He ventured out, and wove through the pipes and electric equipment to catch a glimpse of Mac's departing figure, and noted Lindsay's defensive, standoff-ish posture of folded arms. He watched as she stepped away from what she had been leaning against and turned her back to him.
Not wanting to risk losing this opportunity to speak uninterrupted, Danny stepped towards her. "Thought I'd find you up here. This your new spot?"
Without turning to face him she asked, "Did I have an old one?"
"Yes you did," he said resolutely, making his way closer to her and wrapping his arms around her petite form. "Right here."
He heard her give a small chuckle, and felt rather than saw the smile on her face. He thought for a moment, sucking air in through his teeth, causing his lips to press tightly together then snap apart, and suddenly new it was best to attack the issue head on. "Talked to the department therapist..."
"Danny," Lindsay interrupted, her tone firm and slightly argumentative, "I am not going back there. I'm done."
"Shh, I know that. Not askin' ya to," he assured her before resting his lips against the back of her head, breathing in her familiar shampoo and speaking into her hair, "but, uh, baby, you deserve this, ok?"
He pulled back and reached into his pocket, revealing the medal he had found. Lindsay began to protest and remembering the therapist's advice he quickly worked to persuade her. "You deserve it, k? Not for the life you took, but for the life you saved."
He handed her back the medal, turning them slightly so they were facing each other better and continued, "You saved our daughter." He ran a comforting hand over her hair and wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her back to him. "You're my hero," he declared, pressing a kiss to her hair.
He held her like that, her face against his chest, in silence until he heard a quiet, "Thank you."
"For what?" he asked, his breath moving her hair.
"For being here, just like you promised," Lindsay answered, lifting her head to face him better.
"It's pretty easy for me. As long as you're where you're suppose to be, then I'm where I'm suppose to be," he told her, again indicating the strong arms he had wrapped around her.
"It might not be so easy in the coming days," she confessed sadly, "I feel like I'm going crazy; sad, happy, afraid, safe,angry, grateful, all at once."
"We'll get through it," Danny promised, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"How do you know?" she pushed, her eyes searching his face.
"Because you're the strongest person I know, an' for those moments you don't feel so strong, you've got me and Lucy," he reassured her, then added, "I liked that quote Stella sent ya, but bein' brave isn't always about bein' alone. We can be brave together ya know?"
Lindsay nodded at him, then sheepishly professed, "Mac called me a warrior."
"Yeah?" Danny pretended to think about that, then finally declared, "I like that, it's pretty sexy."
Lindsay laughed at him, and impulsively threw her arms tightly around his neck, hugging him with all the strength she had in her body, the medal dangling from her fingers, resting against his back. "I love you," she whispered into his ear.
Danny returned her tight embrace, cupping the back of her head the same way he did with Lucy. "I love you too," he stated simply and honestly. They held each other until Danny felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and knew that there must have been a discovery on the case.
Stepping apart, he asked, "What d'ya say Mrs. Messer, ready ta go stop the bad guys an' save a few lives today?"
Holding the medal in a tight grip in her right hand, she extended her left towards him. He immediately responded by sliding his hand into hers. She squared her shoulders and announced unwaveringly, "Let's show 'em what we're made of."
Thanks for reading!