Disclaimer: I obviously do not own CSI: NY. I just own my car, my laptop and my crazy muse who seems to want to write 4 different stories at a time.
AN: Okay guys. This in an angsty little one shot about Danny. Do not read this if you have not watched episode 411 (Child's Play) yet! Major spoilers!!!! I also do not own the chapter title (that belongs to the amazing Enigma or any of the lyrics from the song.)
Sadeness
Procedamus in pace. In nomine Christi, Amen.
Danny Messer sat with his head bowed in the church, tears threatening to spill over his eyelashes. Guilt ate at him, like a cancer, threatening to destroy him. Even listening to the familiar words of the Catholic Church did not bring him any comfort. It only brought hopelessness and despair. Even the comfort of Lindsay holding his hand was lost to him.
He watched, from one of the front pews as the tiny white casket was carried down the center aisle. The casket was what caught his eye. He remember someone telling him once that that the reason that children's caskets were white was because they had not lived long enough to sin, so they were innocent. His eyes rested on the woman in the front who broke down at the sight. He wanted to offer her comfort, truly he did, but how was he supposed to comfort her since he was the man who essentially murdered her child?
So he watched, the guilt rising with every moment. He thought back to that day, berating himself for letting Ruben out of his sight. How was he supposed to know what had happened?
Finally, after a torturous hour, the service was over, with the priest closing by stating that Ruben was in a better place now. Danny almost snorted in derision, but he caught himself in time. He followed the line of mourners out into the cold fall air. Squinting a bit in the sunshine, he jumped when Lindsay put her hand on his arm.
"Danny?" she asked with concern in her voice. "Are you going to the burial?"
Mutely, Danny just shook his head and broke away from the press of people, heading for his apartment.
Lindsay watched him, knowing that he needed time to process everything. She decided to follow him, to offer him the comfort that she didn't know how to give, but was going to try and figure out a way to do it. She was halfway to his place, when her phone rang. Swearing under her breath, she answered it curtly. "Monroe." Her swears turned into a sigh as she listened to Flack tell her to meet him at a crime scene. "Don? Is there anyone else? I just left the funeral and I think Danny needs me."
"I'm sorry, Lindsay. There is no one else. Everyone else is out on a call."
Lindsay sighed. "Okay. I'll be right there." She quickly dialed Danny's cell, but was unsurprised when it went straight to voicemail. "Danny, it's me. Listen, I just got called in, but I'll come over as soon as I can. I love you." Shaking her head, she disconnected the call and began her trip to the lab.
Sade, dit-moi: Qu'est-ce que tu vas chercher? Le bien par le mal? La vertu par le vice?
Danny was surprised when he reached his apartment when Lindsay wasn't with him. He looked around to see if she was just trailing behind, but she was no where in sight. Great Messer. Now Lindsay doesn't want to be around you. Probably for the best, you ruin everything you touch. He quickly made his way down the hall, pausing for a second in front of Ricki's door. The sense of loss almost overwhelming him. I'll never get to hear him laughing, crying because he didn't want to go to bed again.
Throwing his suit jacket onto the couch, he immediately went to the kitchen and withdrew the bottle of whisky from the cabinet. Pouring himself two fingers of the Jack Daniels, he shook his head. "Not like you ain't going to drink the damn bottle, Messer. No use pretending otherwise," he said aloud as he topped the glass off. Taking the first swig, he felt the liquid burn its way down his throat, bringing the promise of numbness with it. When he finished the glass, he immediately filled it up again, bringing the bottle of whiskey with him into the living room. He set the bottle down on the coffee table and quickly tossed back half of the new glass, feeling the numbness begin to creep into his mind. He sat there, cradling the glass in his hands, head bowed as if in prayer.
Sade, dit-moi : Pourquoi l'évangile du mal ? Quelle est ta religion, ou sont tes fidèles ? Si tu es contre Dieu, tu es contre l'homme.
As Danny finished the third glass, he had stopped feeling guilty at himself. He had started to lay to blame where he thought it should be. "Why, God? Why did you let him die? He was just an innocent kid. The only reason that he was there was because he wanted his bike blessed." Danny threw the empty glass across the room, watching it shatter as it hit the wall. "It's your fault!" he yelled as he stood up.
"What kind of God allows an innocent child to die?! I hate you! I refuse to believe in a God that would allow that kind of monstrosity to happen," he raged, all of his suppressed emotions coming out. He had been struggling with his faith for several years, ever since Louie had been hospitalized. "You're supposed to be a good, benevolent figure in our lives. You're supposed to protect the innocent and judge the sinners. What kinda sin could a ten year old have committed to cause you to abandon him?"
Danny sat on the couch, unable to find the strength to continue standing, the whisky taking a strong hold on his mind. Finally, he broke and the sobs began to rack his body.
Sade, dit-moi : Pourquoi le sang pour le plaisir ? Le plaisir sans l'amour. N'y a-t-il plus de sentiment dans le culte de l'home ?
Lindsay let herself into the dark apartment, worried to find out what state Danny was in. She shivered in the cold air; it was obvious that Danny had not turned the heat up when he got home. She kept her jacket on, walking to the figure on the couch, to find Danny asleep, dried tears staining his face, a half empty bottle of Jack sitting on the coffee table. Her heart broke and she felt a moment of hesitation as she knelt in front of him. She put her hand lightly on his knee, her uncertainty about how to proceed coming through. "Danny?" she asked quietly. He didn't stir. Concerned, she moved closer to him, smelling the whisky rolling off of him.
She got up and sat next to him on the couch. "Danny? Come on, sweetheart, wake up." She ran her fingers lightly through his hair, trying to comfort him like she would a child. Finally he stirred.
"Linds?" he slurred. "I thought you'd left."
Lindsay smiled softly. "Why would I leave? I had to go in to work, but I left you a message." Her heart broke at the lost little boy quality to his voice.
"You should leave. I'm bad. I'm bad for anyone I care about. Everyone dies. Anyone close to me dies!" Danny's voice began to rise in his panic. "I can't be with you, Lindsay. If you stay with me, you'll end up like Louie or Ruben."
Lindsay remained firm as Danny tried to push her away from him. He was no match for her in his inebriated state. Quickly, she wrapped her arms around him and began to rock him gently. "Danny? You are not responsible for this. It is not your fault," she murmured.
"Yes it is. I shouldn't have left him. I should have made sure he got home safe. It's my fault. Now Ricki blames me and she's right. She trusted me with him and I let her down."
"Danny? You're a cop first and foremost. You took stock of the situation. He looked fine so you sent him home to be safe. You were trying to protect him. Don't beat yourself up for trying to look out for him. You had no idea he had been shot. If you had known, you never would have done what you did. So, no. I'm not leaving you. I love you, Daniel Messer. You can't get rid of me that easily," she said with conviction. He still looked unconvinced, so she took his face between her hands and kissed him.
Danny was in shock. Why isn't she leaving? He tried to get his mind to work, but he felt her giving him comfort as her lips caressed his. Finally, he gave in to his desires and allowed her to take control of the situation.
Sade, es-tu diabolique ou divin ?
The next morning, Danny woke up, not understanding how he got into bed. He turned in the bed, facing Lindsay, who had her arms wrapped around him protectively. He looked at her, noticing the whisker burn and faint finger shaped bruises on her and the previous night came back to him.
Lindsay felt him turn towards her and opened her eyes to find him looking at her with shame in his face. "What's wrong?"
"I hurt you last night, didn't I?" Danny asked, lightly stroking her bruise covered arms.
Lindsay followed his gaze and saw the bruises. "Nope. You didn't," she reassured him.
Danny shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not. I'm not good at this whole offering comfort thing. If it made you feel better, than I don't care," she smiled as she pulled his head down for a kiss. When they finally pulled apart, she looked deep into his eyes. "Danny? You're not a bad guy. You are defined by the choices that you make. You don't choose to promote evil, you choose to fight it. Life is defined by the choices that we make. God is not against you. Lucy is the one at fault. She is the one who tried to take the law into her own hands," she said earnestly. "You can beat yourself up with the what ifs, but it is not your fault."
Danny stared into her chocolate eyes. "I still…I feel responsible."
Lindsay smiled softly. "You wouldn't be Daniel Messer if you didn't. Just take it one day at a time, Danny. That's all you can do."
Danny nodded and began to think about what she said. He knew where she was coming from, but he could still feel the guilt and anger towards God festering inside of him.
Fini.
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AN: So comments? Suggestions? Please hit that little review button and let me know what you think!!
Translations:
Procedamus in pace. In nomine Christi, Amen. Let us proceed in peace. In the name of Christ, amen.
Sade, dit-moi: Qu'est-ce que tu vas chercher? Le bien par le mal? La vertu par le vice? Sade, tell me: What is it that you seek? The best through the worst? Virtue through vice?
Sade, dit-moi : Pourquoi l'évangile du mal ? Quelle est ta religion, ou sont tes fidèles ? Si tue es contre Dieu, tu es contre l'homme. Sade, tell me: Why the gospel of evil? What is your religion, where is your congregation? If you are against God, you are against man.
Sade, dit-moi : Pourquoi le sang pour le plaisir ? Le plaisir sans l'amour. N'y a-t-il plus de sentiment dans le culte de l'home ? Sade, tell me: Why blood for pleasure? Pleasure without love. Is there not more feeling in the worship of man?
Sade, es-tu diabolique ou divin ? Sade, are you diabolical or divine?