Title: Sleepless Nights
Author: Edie Zee
Summary: He needed her but she wasn't there. So he turned to the next best thing. What will happen when Lindsay comes back to New York?
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Lisa and Cady.
Author's Note: I haven't seen all of Season Three, so if anything doesn't jive with what's happened, chalk it up to AU.
Prologue
Danny checked his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Still no missed calls or messages. Why did he even think there would be, since he had his phone with him all day?
It had only been two weeks since she had left. Without really saying goodbye. Or telling him why. Sure, she had left the card, which made him happy at the time but lost its significance the longer he went without contact from her.
Two weeks had never seemed so long before.
The worst part was at night, lying in bed and trying to sleep. That's when the doubts came. Doubts that she didn't really care for him, even though she had said she did. After all, she didn't even want to try something casual. Hell, she had stood him up.
If he couldn't have her as a girlfriend, he would take her as a just a friend, but she didn't seem to even care about him in that way. Friends confided in each other about their issues and during hard times. From what he could figure from the things Mac and Stella didn't say, these were hard times for her. He just wanted to be there for her, in some way, and she wouldn't let him!
After yet another sleepless night, Danny dragged himself into work. He had had no big cases for at least a couple days – an oddity in New York, especially when they were short-staffed – so he figured today would be the day he'd catch something horrific.
He had no idea how right he was – or about how many different ways one case could change his life.
One
Danny strolled into the break room to grab some coffee. He held the mug in both hands as he walked in a daze toward Mac's office. Stella and Hawkes were already there, but Danny didn't apologize for being a couple minutes late. He was too tired to care.
Mac was just hanging up the phone. "Bye, Lindsay. Hang in there."
Danny choked on the sip of coffee he had just taken. So she has time to call Mac but not me, huh?
He tried not to blush when Stella looked at him knowingly. Mac picked up the assignment sheet.
"Stella, Hawkes – two bodies in Central Park. Danny, one body up town. Here's the address. I'll be in court for the Mansavage case for at least the next couple days, but I'll check in at the breaks if you need me."
Danny reached out to take the slip of paper from Mac, then went to get his evidence kit. Driving to the scene, he tried to keep his mind on traffic and off a certain country girl.
A crowd had typically gathered around the activity, and he pushed his way through to the tape, on the other side of which Angell was waiting for him. He couldn't see the body, but he saw the stricken look on her face. That didn't bode well…
He ducked under the tape, and the two of them stepped aside.
"The vic was found in the alley this morning by the neighboring shop owner. She was beaten, looks like sexual assault, naked and cut." Angell looked away, hiding the tears that sprang up into her eyes. Danny still saw them and wondered what was coming next. Angell let out a shaky breath. "She couldn't be more than 10 years old."
Danny felt nauseous, but also angry. He would enjoy nailing this SOB.
Walking toward the alley with Angell, he tried to brace himself while knowing nothing he could do would fully prepare him for what he was about to see.
At the front of the alley, he stepped over vomit.
"First officer on the scene. He's a rookie," Angell informed him.
He looked over at the body and understood the officer's reaction. Even if it hadn't been a kid, this would still have been the worst scene he had ever worked. He had never, ever seen such a thing. Angell turned away with a sob – and she had already seen it.
The body wasn't just mutilated and broken. It was posed. The killer had set her at a tiny table; she was having a tea party. The stuffed animals with her were also mutilated in some way, reflecting the injuries she sported. On the table, instead of cookies with the tea, were Polaroids. Some of the girl alive, laughing and playing at a playground. Others of her crying out in pain. A few of someone's hand touching her. Even one of her lifeless eyes.
Danny looked away. Get it together…
He took a breath and started to snap his own pictures
Later, at the lab, he sat in front of his table but was unwilling to start analyzing just yet. He knew the sooner he did, the sooner he'd catch the guy. But he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. He could still see the scene in his mind's eye, taste the bile rise in his throat.
He pushed his glasses up to rub his burning eyes. Taking a shaky breath, he reached for the first piece of evidence.
That night, it wasn't thoughts of Lindsay that kept him awake. Tonight that scene ran through his head. He could hear a little girl screaming, crying, begging for help … begging for his help.
Sitting straight up in bed, he put his face in his hands and sighed.
3:30 a.m.
He had to sleep.
He had to talk to someone.
He had to talk to her.
Could he call her? Could he swallow his pride and call her when she didn't seem to need to talk to him? Could he let himself be that vulnerable to her again?
Whether he could or should, he needed to. He picked up his cell off the bedside table, scrolling down to her name and hitting send before he could talk himself out of it.
Part of him wanted her phone to be on and wake her up, but part of him felt guilty for that. Part of him was arguing that she obviously had her own problems and didn't need to hear about his, but part of him just wanted to hear her voice – even if it was just a recording.
"Hi, this is Detective Lindsay Monroe. Please leave a message."
"Uh…hi, Montana. It's Danny. Sorry to call you so late. I just nee-wanted to talk to you about something. Uh….sorry. Good night."
He hit the end button and groaned at his own stupidity. Falling back onto the bed, he stared up at the ceiling and waited for the latest sleepless night end. If he didn't get sleep soon, he wouldn't be able to help the girl at all … the victim at all. The victim. Not the girl. He couldn't think of her as a pretty, innocent, little girl, or he'd be the one throwing up next.
Lindsay sat at her parent's kitchen able the next morning, listening to his message for the fifth time. He sounded tired, upset. Her heart went out toward him.
Then, never far from her thoughts, came images of the courtroom and That Man. The pain and anger and nausea followed close behind.
As much as she wanted to talk to Danny, she couldn't be there for him until this was over. If even then. Sometimes she thought she'd never be ready for a relationship with him. Sometimes she thought he'd never really want one with her if he knew everything about her. Sometimes she thought he really was the player he was reputed to be, just interested in her because she was a challenge.
Other times, she knew those were just excuses.
None of that mattered right now anyway. She couldn't call him, even if it did sound like he needed her to do so. She just hoped he would forgive her for this.
She erased the message and turned her cell phone off.
