Author's Note: The idea for this fic popped into my head while driving and listening to Nickelback one day. It was inspired by the video for the song "Far Away." YES, it is AU. I've never been to New York, so I can't account for locations, meaning for all I know if there is a 179th street, it's probably a shopping district. My mind has been in the Criminal Minds fandom and I'm hashing out a story over there. I hope to put the first chapter up soon. In the meantime, enjoy this one. And if you can think of a title, please drop me a review!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY; they are the property of Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS. If it resembles anything from the "Far Away" video, it belongs to Nickelback and director Nigel Dick.
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"No way. No. Don't go in there, nononon…AAAGGH!"
The popcorn flew up into the air, followed closely by Lindsay Messer. The sudden movement caused Danny Messer to jerk, and jab his knee into Lindsay's side as a light snow of popcorn floated down around them. Danny hit PAUSE on the movie and looked down at Lindsay. "Scared much, Montana?" he drawled.
"Ow," was Lindsay's response. "Put some meat on your bones, skinny Minnie." She rubbed her side gingerly.
Danny picked popcorn out of her hair. "Whaddya want me ta do?" he asked, laying the accent on thick, "Rig it so I just get fat at da knees, or what?"
Lindsay giggled and brushed some popcorn off his shirt and onto the floor. "There's a visual I don't need," she said. "I can see it, years from now. 'Danny Messer. Yeah, he was cute, but he had fat knees'."
Danny tossed a piece of popcorn at her face. She shook her head sideways and it bounced harmlessly into the couch. "You don't think that hurt the baby any, do you?" Danny asked worriedly.
Lindsay patted her stomach and smiled. "Danny, I'm only three weeks pregnant. Relax."
Danny twisted the ring around his finger, not entirely convinced. "You wanna keep watching, or are ya gonna jump through the roof this time?"
"Oh, you're a funny one," Lindsay rolled her eyes. She reached across to the coffee table and took the remote. She pressed PLAY.
Danny's cell phone rang.
"Who in the hell?" Danny wondered aloud. "It's a Sunday night, and I'm off."
"Old girlfriend?" Lindsay asked.
"No, I told her she can only call on the days you're working," he replied.
Lindsay threw a pillow at him. "Jerk." Danny stuck his tongue out at her. "Very mature," Lindsay teased. Danny checked the caller ID. He frowned. "It's Mac."
Lindsay hit PAUSE on the movie and sat up next to him now. "Why would Mac call you?" she asked. "Don't they have enough help tonight?"
"Dunno," Danny said, hitting SEND. "Hello?" he asked, unfolding his legs and climbing off the couch and walking into the bedroom.
"Danny, it's Mac. Sorry to bother you on your night off…but you know Flack's contact within the drug runners over on 179?"
"Yeah. Nick Gorman. What's up?"
"Nick missed his check-in with Flack tonight. We think he's been ratted out. We're going in to bust them. NYPD needed the extra manpower."
Danny looked at his watch. 11:30. "I can be there in twenty minutes," he replied. "Mac, Lindsay is here, do you want her to-"
"No. I think with a baby on the way, she's exempt."
"Yeah…okay, I'll see you soon." He turned the Treo off and turned to Lindsay. "There's a bust going down. Mac needs my help." He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I'll be back later." He moved to go.
"Wait!" Lindsay caught his arm. "Hold on a second. It's your night off!"
Danny shrugged. "Whaddya want me to do, Lindsay? Ignore Mac Taylor? I like my job, thanks a lot."
"Don't go," Lindsay said. "I have a bad feeling. I just…don't go." She looked pleadingly at him. "Danny…"
He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss. "I will be fine. I'll be back, don't worry."
"I'll worry anyway," Lindsay said, hugging her knees. "I've seen all the stuff on the news. These guys are bad, Danny. Ruthless."
"So are half the guys we deal with on a regular basis," Danny replied. He chuckled. "Hell, I mean these are just plain, ordinary drug dealers. Not some psycho wife that thinks her husband's sleeping with the neighbor and puts rat poison in his coffee. This should be a piece of cake."
The joke fell flat. Danny bit his lip. "Linds, I gotta go. I'll call you when everything's wrapped up." With that, he left his apartment, leaving Lindsay alone in the dark with a frozen picture on the television.
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New York City is beautiful at night…at least on the surface. If you're looking at the skyline, it's bright lights and giant skyscrapers. The Brooklyn Bridge is lit up like a Christmas tree. Times Square is buzzing. In those views, one gets a picture of awe and wonder. Success.
But in the less-traveled areas, the streets are cold and dark. Rats scurry around in the dumpsters, looking for their next meal. The buildings are crumbling. This is where the less fortunate bide their time selling pick me ups in all sizes and colors.
The Rollers of 179th were the worst of the worst lately. They were selling a combination drug (affectionately called the Double Whopper) that had put nearly forty people in the hospital and about ten in the morgue. Mac Taylor and his team had seen more crime scenes where the deaths were due to Double Whopper lately.
About eight months before, the NYPD had inserted a man in the Rollers. Nick Gorman was a good officer. Detective Don Flack had worked with him for about two years. Nick was new to New York but his dedication to his job was an inspiration to everyone. When the assignment came up to get inside the Rollers, Nick volunteered. He'd slowly worked his way up through the ranks until he was almost at the top. The important thing was he knew names. Names he was supposed to have delivered to Flack that afternoon, but he hadn't shown. Flack instantly knew something was up, and called in the bust.
When Danny Messer pulled up a few blocks away from where the Rollers had marked as their turf, there were at least twenty officers there waiting. Danny spotted Mac Taylor, Stella Bonasera and Don Flack and jogged over to them. "Sorry about your night off, Dan-O," Flack told his friend.
Danny shrugged. "This is more important. Sid and Marty are tired of pronouncing COD as Double Whopper, so…" He looked at Mac. "What's gonna happen?"
"Group A is going to take the silent approach, in through the back. Group B, that's us and Flack, we're going straight through the front."
"Ah. The direct approach, huh?" Danny noted. Mac nodded. He pointed to the rooftops above Danny's head. Danny could just barely make out figures moving around on the roof. "Snipers?"
"With thermal imaging," Stella replied. "They're our eyes up there."
"Any sign they know we're comin'?" Danny asked.
Flack shook his head. "Not yet." He looked at his watch. "But they will in about forty seconds. Okay! Listen up!" he yelled. The action quieted, and he continued, "Jason, you and your boys are gonna go in through the back. Your objective is to ascertain the whereabouts of Nick Gorman. Dead, alive, doesn't matter, I want him to come outta there. Me and the second group are goin' in through the front door. Alex, can ya hear me?"
A voice crackled over the radio. "Copy that. We're all in position up here," Alex Nabor reported.
"Okay. Positions, everyone!"
Danny finished securing his Kevlar vest and pulled out his service pistol. He took a deep breath. Dear God, please let everyone come outta this one tonight, he prayed silently. Then,
"Execute!"
Flack kicked in the front door of the abandoned storehouse. Danny took up a flanking position behind him, covering him. "NYPD!" Flack yelled.
The ten or so guys inside looked up in surprise to see four of New York's finest standing in the door, guns drawn. A couple put their hands up, not wanting to go down in a hail of bullets. A couple chose to run. Flack took off after them.
"Watch those chemicals!" Stella warned. "Highly flammable. The building could go up!"
Don't shoot the chemicals. Got it, Danny made a mental note, shoving one of the guys that had surrendered to his knees and cuffing him.
Across the room, Mac Taylor had come up behind another and wrenched the guy's hands behind him. Something whizzed by his ear, and he threw himself to the side behind a post for cover. The cuffed drug dealer slammed into the floor, with no hands to break his fall.
Mac looked up to see someone standing up on a catwalk with what appeared to be an AK-47. How in the hell did he get his hands on that? Mac dove behind the pole as the guy fired again. When his volley was done, Mac took a couple shots at him, then took cover again.
The sniper's shot ricocheted. It bounced off Mac's hiding place and slammed into the table where the chemicals were sitting. The beakers tipped over. The contents caught the Bunsen burner…and went up in flames. The table tilted from the shock, sending the flaming mess to the floor. The flaming puddle spread over the floor, igniting a couple of boxes nearby. Embers from the box flew everywhere, igniting other things in the room. Mac took a shot; it hit the target perfectly. The guy toppled over the rail and down onto the cement.
Danny looked up at the fire. "Who shot the chemicals?" he demanded. Then his mouth dropped open. "Oh…" He bit back a four letter word. A pile of rags had ignited…dangerously close to a oxygen tank. Must use it to keep from breathing in all this crap, although why take health precautions if you're just gonna snort the stuff later? Danny thought. Aw hell, no point in trying to psychoanalyze them now. He handed off the guy he'd cuffed to another officer.
An explosion threw him off his feet.
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Flack had chased the other guy into the hands of the officers who had come in the back. Just then, Alex radioed, "I got a body. Storage closet, near the back garage."
Flack, gun at the ready, kicked in the storage room door and found Nick Gorman, bruised, battered, bloody, barely alive, but alive, thank God. Flack called in for the EMS team.
He was heading back to the main area when a rush of fire filled his vision. What the hell? Then he watched in shock as the oxygen tank exploded, throwing him to the ground.
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"Mac!" Stella yelled, seeing the tank explode. She looked around for him. "Mac!"
"Stella, here!" Mac appeared, dragging the cuffed perp toward her. "Come on, we gotta get out of here!" The two burst out the front door just as the ladder trucks were pulling up.
Mac sat the drug dealer down on the ground. Then he looked around, assessing the condition of his team. "Where are Danny and Flack?" he asked. He and Stella both surveyed the street, but didn't see any sign of them.
Stella turned back to the building. "They're still in there!"
Lindsay had tried returning to the movie, but she couldn't do it. There was no way in hell she was watching a horror movie if Danny wasn't around. Besides, she thought she should probably think about something other than a bunch of people dying. Instead, she'd taken to pacing. She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to keep her hands from shaking, but it didn't help. God, please let Danny come home from this one. Keep him and everybody else safe.
All right, that's it. I need to find something to do to keep my mind off this, Lindsay thought to herself. She plopped down on the couch and fingered the remote. Just because I'm not gonna watch that stupid horror flick doesn't mean I can't watch the TV, she decided, and flipped it on.
What was on was a thousand times worse than the horror movie. WNYC was airing a special report.
"This is Linda Romaine with breaking news. A routine drug bust has gone horribly wrong here on 179th. Witnesses claim there was some kind of explosion. Two officers from the NYPD are still inside, no word on their condition."
The camera panned left and zoomed out to get a fuller picture of the chaos. Lindsay could spot Mac and Stella in the background. Mac was shouting orders, and Stella was working crowd control. And then Lindsay realized who she wasn't seeing-
"DANNY!"
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Danny Messer opened his eyes, and the very movement pained him. He painfully got to his feet and glanced around. The entire facility was pretty much engulfed in flames. "Mac!" Danny yelled above the roar of the fire. "Stella? Flack?"
He spotted his best friend lying near the wall. Danny limped over to Flack's motionless body and felt for a pulse. He was still alive, his pulse strong. Danny began searching for an exit. We won't burn to death; we'll die from smoke inhalation first. Takes longer. Power of positive thinking. He pulled out his cell phone. He had just enough service bars to make a call.
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Mac Taylor felt his cell phone buzz. "It's Danny!" he said. Stella came over to him, looking worried. "Danny?" he asked.
"Mac—still inside—hurt—"
"Danny, you're breaking up!" Mac yelled into the phone. "Danny! If you can hear me, the firefighters are coming in! They're coming to get you, okay?"
He looked at his phone. The call had ended. He let out a breath and looked at Stella.
"They'll be okay," Stella said, trying to be convincing.
Mac looked back at the building. "Yeah. Yes, they'll be fine."
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Lindsay was screaming at the TV. She wanted to run to the scene, but knew she wouldn't be any help there, and besides, Danny had their car. And by the time a cab got there… She put her right hand on the screen as WNYC kept covering the story. "God…Danny!" She was near tears. "Danny!" She put her other hand on her stomach. God, don't do this! Don't let this baby grow up without his dad! Pleasepleaseplease let Danny get through this. Please God…please get him out of there.
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Danny hefted Flack over his shoulder. It wasn't going to help if he just sat there, he had to do something. He tried to remember where they'd come in, and he picked a direction and began walking that way.
Through the haze and flames, he thought he saw figures moving. "Hey!" Danny yelled, but he was already hoarse. "Over here!" He was wracked with a coughing fit. He knelt down and lowered Flack to the floor. He stood and waved his arms. "Hey!"
He thought he saw the firefighter stop and turn. "Over he-" More coughing overtook him, and the force of it shook him to his knees. When he finally had the strength to stand again, the figures were gone.
"No!" Danny yelled as loud as he could. "No, we're still here!" God, I got a wife and a kid to get home to. Don't do this! Bring 'em back!
He wasn't sure what was going to happen. He did know that he wasn't going to leave this earth with his last conversation with his wife being a fight. He pulled out his phone and looked at it. His battery was dying, but he had one service bar. Hitting speed dial one, he waited.
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Lindsay's cell phone belted out "Shoulda Been a Cowboy." Danny's personal ringtone. She hit send. "Danny?!"
"Hey," Danny's hoarse voice echoed. "Look, I…the bust, it went south…"
"I know, it's on TV," Lindsay replied. "Are you okay?"
A pause. "No…I'm still inside. Me and Flack. Look, uh…things are looking…well, not so good. I just called to…to, uh…"
"Don't!" Lindsay yelled at him. "Don't you dare say goodbye, damn it. You're gonna get out of this, you hear me? Don't you give up, Danny Messer! You are going to come home, and we're gonna finish watching this stupid movie and you're gonna get to see your baby, and…and…" She couldn't hold back any longer, she started crying. "You're gonna be okay, all right?"
"…I love you, Linds," Danny said. "Don't cry, all right? It'll all be okay. I love you-"
"Danny?" Lindsay yelled into the phone. "Danny!"
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Danny cursed as his phone finally bit the dust. He threw it across the room into the flames. This was NOT how I planned to go out, Danny thought. Then he shook his head. Aw hell. I'm not goin' out like this! He got to his feet again, wincing as his ankle protested the movement. He slung Flack over his shoulder again. He had just started forward when the fire caught something particularly worth kindling and blew up right behind him. The force threw Danny forward, and to the ground again. He twisted so Flack landed on top of him, cushioning the blow, and stars exploded in front of his eyes. He closed his eyes...just for a second...
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Lindsay lay on the bed in the room she shared with Danny, holding a pillow close. It smelled like him. She sobbed freely into it, yelling at the world, at God, at herself, at Danny, at Mac Taylor, at everybody she could think of. She couldn't believe any of what had happened. She refused to believe it. Deep down, she knew Danny was okay. It was an innate feeling, one that she felt at her very core. He had to be. He isn't dead. I would know! He's not dead!
There was a knock at the apartment door. Lindsay's blood turned to ice, and all positive thoughts flew from her mind. She got to her feet. This is it. This is that house call they make when someone… She forced herself to stop crying and took the chain lock off the door.
Mac Taylor stood there. He was a little bruised, a little battered, but otherwise in fair shape. "Lindsay."
"Mac? Danny. Is he…?"
Mac didn't say anything. He just stepped aside.
Danny Messer hobbled toward the door. He was suffering from a sprained ankle, but looked otherwise fine. He smiled. "Hey, you," he said.
Lindsay screamed, ran past Mac and threw herself into Danny's arms. Danny almost fell over- it was hard to stay standing when someone slams into you, knocks you off balance, and you've only got one good foot. The two rocked back and forth slowly for a few minutes, both of them crying at the close call. Mac chose that moment to head for the stairs. Besides, he had another man to see to.
"I'm so sorry, so sorry," Danny was telling her, burying his head in her hair. "I didn't mean to scare you, I'm so sorry. Lindsay, I…God, I love you, I'm so sorry."
"I love you too…" She hit him.
"Ow!"
"Don't you ever do that to me again! I love you…I was so scared…so scared…I love you."
"I promise I won't ever do that to you again, I love you, I'm so sorry, I love you!" He hugged her tighter, like he'd never ever let go. He buried his face in her hair again, and for a few moments, the events of the night were gone from his mind.
"So…you wanna finish watching the rest of that movie?" he asked her.
Lindsay didn't know whether to laugh or cry…so she did both. "I think I've been scared enough for one night," she replied.
"Me too, Montana. Me too."
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Like it? Love it? Think it's cheesy? Hate it? Doesn't matter, please review.