A/N: I know I shouldn't be starting a new story seeing as though I've totally slacked on updates for my other stories, but ideas come to mind and I can't seem to get rid of them and don't want to lose them. This one will be a lot of flash-forwards and modern-day. Some flashbacks thrown in the mix as well. The title is The Chronicles, and every chapter will have another title before the date.

Also, I know the song choice is about a relationship, but the parts I used, I felt could attribute to the second portion of this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI:NY or any of their characters. I do however my story idea, Anjuli Elisabeth Allegra Fallon, members of the Fallon family, and anyone or anything you do not recognize. Trust me, you won't get anything out of suing me. Maybe just a whole lot of debt and Smart Water.

The Chronicles.

xXx

Would I know this hurt
Would I feel this pain
Do you know that with all I have left
In my very last breath I will call your name

Were you sad
Were you scared
Did you wish for a prayer to be free
Was it quiet and cold
Was it light or too dark to see
And did you reach for me

Joey -- Sugarland

xXx

The Chronicles Of Fear.

May 12th 2012.

Adjusting the platinum bridal set on her left ring finger, thirty-three year old Detective Anjuli Fallon -- the name she used only at work, rather than there being two Detective Flacks in the ranks -- entered the bullpen. Standing at five foot six, she tried to look over and around the officers and detectives crowding the room.

Dressed in khaki colored cargo pants, a simple dark brown t-shirt and matching brown sneakers, Jules rested on her tippy-toes as she tried to get a better view into the room. A hand landed on the small of her back, almost causing her to lose her balance.

Glancing over her shoulder, she offered Detective John Scagnetti a smile before resting her feet flat on the floor. "What's up, Scags?" she offered, using her nickname for the burly homicide detective.

"Well, I do work here, Jules," he replied, causing the petite blonde to stick her tongue out at the taller brunette. "Just got back from the field with Messer. The suspect in this case we're workin' on is a total wackadoo."

The statement caused a giggle to fumble out of Jules' mouth. "You've been hangin' around Donnie way too much," she said, and glanced back in the direction of Flack's desk, however, the bullpen was extremely busy, causing traffic between her and the desk and leaving her with no real view of the area.

He shrugged. "Last I saw him, he was gettin' some coffee."

"No matter how hot it is outside, all that man drinks is coffee," she added with a laugh. She then nodded and bit the inside of her lip. "And when was that?"

"'Bout five minutes ago, I'd say." Again, she nodded and smiled up at John.

Wrapping an arm around his large bicep, she tucked her bangs behind her ear. "Thanks, pumpkin." The homicide detective nodded and rolled his eyes before heading towards his desk, close to Flack's, but not as close as they used to be.

Using her small frame to her advantage, Anjuli slipped past the other detectives in the bullpen and headed towards Don's desk. He wasn't in his chair, hunched over paperwork like he usually was around this time. As it neared seven o'clock at night, she knew he was beginning to pack up to head home. Since her shift started at eleven fifteen- she came in as an extra to help out - she had at least another hour before she could even contemplate leaving for the night.

The office chair in front of the desk was unoccupied, so after glancing at the clock on his desk, she took a seat to wait for him. She knew the moment she began looking at the paperwork that littered his desk - he claimed it was an organized mess and he knew where to find everything - a member of the brass would walk in and she would get reamed out for reading files on a case she wasn't working on.

Her eyes drifted from his computer, where a recent photo of their six-month-old daughter was the wallpaper. Arianna Elisabeth Flack was born on November 11th 2011, ironically enough 11-11-11, and already had her daddy wrapped around her pinky finger. The photo was one of her and her "boyfriend", though Don hated the title given to eight-month-old Tristan Anthony Messer. Due to the closeness in age, and the tight friendships between their parents, once Arianna entered the world, the two were barely separated. At one point, they even napped together in the same bassinet, and unbeknownst to them - but watched over by their fathers, mostly Flack - the two fell asleep holding hands.

The photo was one of the baby brunette in a New York Rangers cheerleader outfit, complete with a red and blue barrette in her medium shade of brown hair. To the left were two framed photos, one of their wedding day, and one of the day Arianna was born.

The wedding photo on his desk was his favorite. Though it was two and a half years old, the style in the photo was still seen on the streets. In their formal wear, Jules in her wedding gown, Don in his dress blues, both donned pairs of aviator sunglasses and huge smiles. It was evident, due to the height difference, that Jules had already shed her heels - later in the day she opted for white Old Navy flip flops. Flack had both arms wrapped around his new wife, as Jules had one arm resting on Don's forearm, with her hand slightly squeezing his bicep and the other hand placed on the side of his cheek, her bridal set shimmering in the light. The photographer had taken the photo without either of the two noticing, mainly because Don was whispering sweet nothings into Jules' ear.

The second framed picture was of Anjuli resting in her hospital bed with Don sitting next to her holding a three hour old Arianna Elisabeth. Flack had the baby in one arm, with his other wrapped around his wife, who had her head rested on his chest, a weary smile on her face. Don was beaming.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" The voice, a deep baritone she had grown accustomed to, brought her out of her reverie. Jules turned to the left to see her husband standing next to his desk, a cup of coffee in one hand and the other rested on the edge of his desk.

She pursed her lips together as he slid to a resting stance against his desk to face his wife. "I thought I'd stop by to see you for a few. I have to head back out into the field, and since you get off the clock very shortly, I figured we could get a few minutes together."

Running a hand over the side of her face, he smirked in her direction. "So does this mean I won't have both of my girls home tonight?" She nodded. "Well, I could always just put Arianna to bed and call up my other girlfriend."

"Don't forget I know how to hide bodies where no one will ever find them," she stated, a matching smirk crossing her face. "And if they do find it, they'll never be able to link it back to me."

"In that case, give me a call on your way home. I can get her out the door before you make it back to the house."

She placed her hand discretely on his thigh closest to her and pinched him through his black dress pants. "Wise ass." He smiled and shrugged. "I thought your other girl kept you up too late last night. I figured you'd want your beauty sleep."

He rested his hand on the back of his neck and ran his fingers over the chain he always wore. "For your information, I was teaching her the finer points of the Rangers defense." Jules just nodded. Hockey was one thing that brought them together.

Growing up with three older brothers, though at times it seemed like five total when the Flack boys were around, Jules was on skates by the time she could walk. Being born in the midst of the 1979 Stanley Cup hunt for the New York Rangers -who went on to sadly lose to the Montreal Canadiens - and to a family of hockey fans, minus her mother, it was destiny that she would both enjoy and play the sport.

Her mother, Abigail Fallon, was outnumbered on hockey nights. While she tried to transform her only daughter into a girly-girl with dresses and barrettes and headbands, and the likes, her father tried to turn his daddy's girl into a well-known hockey star. He later got his wish when she moved to New Hampshire to attend the University of New Hampshire, and went on to win the National Championship her freshman year.

"So instead of singing a lullaby like you did the other night, you brought her out to watch hockey." She paused for a moment to contemplate her husband. "Very thoughtful of you, Donnie."

"Shh," he hushed and placed a finger over his lips. "Don't let it out that I sing to my daughter. I do have a reputation to uphold, ya know." The blonde rolled her eyes. Changing the topic, he offered her a wink. "What time do you think you'll get in tonight?

She shrugged and let her shoulders sag following the gesture. "Who knows? This case is being a major pain in my ass. AFIS is being absolutely useless for trying to match the partial we got at the scene on our vic's earring. I just," she paused and sighed, "I don't know. We'll have to play it by ear tonight. This could very easily turn into a double."

Jules tossed her hair into a messy bun in the center of her head and leant back in the chair. She turned the chair just enough to place a leg to either side of one of Don's. "Call me when you get out. The second you clock out, call me."

She smiled. "It'll probably be late, and you have the early shift tomorrow morning."

"I'm a big boy, Anj. Any luck, Arianna will probably get up at the same time."

Reaching into a pocket of her cargo pants, Anjuli withdrew a set of keys and placed them in her lap. "I'll wake you up when I get home. Sound good?"

Slowly, he nodded, hating that he was giving in to her. Only a few times since they began dating in high school would he admit that she was right, or let something she did slip. There were times it happened, but he would never admit it. As she stood from the chair, she locked blue eyes with blue eyes and smiled. Genuinely smiled. "Be careful, Anj."

"Always." Quickly, Flack placed a tender kiss to her forehead. For the last nine years of working together, the brass or IAB had only caught them a handful of times for showing affection while on the job. An NYPD event or fundraiser was one thing, due to being off the clock, but at work it was a completely different ballpark. "I love you, Donnie."

"Love you too, Jules." With a hand to her waist, he ran his hand up and down a small portion of her side before letting her begin to step away from him. "I'll see you when you get home."

She nodded and slipped in between the row of desks taking up residence in the bullpen. The blonde tucked her head down as she began to walk away from her husband. Halfway out of the room, she saw Scagnetti sitting at his desk, on the phone, and knowing the detective as well as she did, she figured he was more than likely going to start yelling at whoever was on the other end of the line. Instead of heading over to him, she offered a quick wave, to which he responded with a slight smile.

With her keys in one hand, she headed out of the bullpen, and towards the elevators. Once inside, she double checked to make sure her piece was strapped to her waist next to her badge. As the doors chimed open in the garage, Jules headed over to the Chevy Avalanche she had signed out to go back into the field to look for any evidence left at the scene.

Clicking off the alarm, she opened the door and slipped inside. Once the vehicle was turned on and the air conditioner was kicking on, she rested her head back against the head rest. She ran her fingers over the necklace hanging from her neck.

With their hectic schedules, Don had made dinner for Jules the night before for Mother's Day. Though it was on the thirteenth, he wanted to make sure she got the present he bought her for her first Mother's Day. A simple circular silver pendant hung around her neck on a matching silver chain. Her daughter's name was engraved on the back, and on the front was a copy of Arianna's fingerprint.

Flack had known the moment he saw an ad for the designer while checking his e-mail one day that his wife would absolutely love it. The piece of jewelry captured one of the only things about his daughter that would never change.

She flicked through the channels on the radio before giving up, due to nothing worth interest playing on any of her usual channels, and decided on one that was playing Top 40 hits.

Pulling out of the parking garage, she called her mother-in-law to let her know that Don would be by to pick up the baby as soon as he got out. They chatted briefly about what Arianna did during the day, most of the things Caroline Flack said brought a smile to Jules' face.

As that phone call came to an end- with a wish of an early Happy Mother's Day- the blonde followed it up with a phone call to her own parents. Mainly, it was to waste time in her drive, but to confirm their plans for the next day. Two of her older brothers, Patrick and Brendan, were planning to bring their children to their childhood home for a late lunch. Since it was her day off the next day, she had also planned ahead to bring Arianna to visit the baby's grandparents while Don was at work.

Pulling up to the crime scene, she noted that the uniformed officer she asked to be at the scene had yet to arrive. Glancing to the clock on the dashboard, she checked over her shoulder to see if the police car was anywhere near the scene. However, it wasn't.

Against better judgment, Jules stepped out of the vehicle. She slipped her keys in her pocket and flicked on her flashlight as she headed towards where the body of Courtney Shailor was found just hours before. She tugged a latex glove on her right hand to comb more thoroughly through the grass for anything that could have been missed when the two women were called out to the scene around eleven A.M.

Anjuli crouched down by the final resting place of Courtney's body and bit her lip. They had nothing. All that was recovered from the scene was the body, her purse-with a full wallet, and enough cash in there to make both Anjuli and Lindsay jealous- and a single partial fingerprint on the donut shaped earring hanging from the 24 year old brunette's left ear.

"Someone just give me a sign," she sighed. Watching the area in front of her, Jules closed her vibrant blue eyes. "Anything."

"How 'bout this?" was all she heard before being hit in the back of the head with the butt of a gun. She collapsed forward on her knees, feeling a sight sensation run through her left knee, the result of an injury to the area while playing hockey growing up. A hard body check into the boards during her sophomore year not only ended her season, but career. It took three years for her to truly regain balance on skates, and didn't think she was back up to her playing standards from her freshman year.

The injury was an miracle in disguise for her though. It led her to buckling down and furthering her education.

Reaching back on her right side, she found only an empty holster. "Lookin' for something, girlie?" the man behind her taunted. She could tell he had a slight Irish lilt, but nothing else about the man really stuck out to her. When she turned her head even more, she came eye to eye with an elaborate Celtic cross on his forearm. Almost like the one her husband sported on his shoulder blade, she thought.

Nibbling on her lower lip, a nervous habit she lived her entire life with, she slid her left hand into the pocket of her cargo pants closest to her knee. With her hand around the set of keys- since they were only department keys they consisted of only one key, the one for the vehicle they were registered for the day, though some people, like Jules, hooked their office keys on there as well- she used the dark to her advantage.

She set the keys up in her hand and in one swift motion tried her best to stab her attacker. The only problem was she couldn't get enough momentum, causing the keys to stop at the jeans the man was wearing. He only laughed when she tried again. Giving up, she placed the keys on the ground, and covered them with her hand.

Within seconds, her hand was crushed between her attacker's boot and the keys, causing a scream to erupt from her mouth. Another agonizing cry was released as she tried to cradle her injured hand to her chest. "What do you want?" she asked through tears.

Again, he laughed, and was soon joined by another man. Noting the danger she was truly in, she hunched her body over enough to grab her cell phone from her pocket with the cover of darkness. Luckily for her, the lights from the bridge did not provide a lot of light in the area she was in.

She pulled the device out of her pocket and pressed the green button for send twice, causing it to redial the last number registered on her phone. Don. She had called him shortly after confirming plans for the next day with her mother. Yeah, if I make it to tomorrow.

Running her fingers over the top buttons on the right side of her Blackberry, she turned the incoming volume down so no one would hear if Don answered the phone or not. Thanking her lucky stars for having her keep the back light on the phone for the shortest amount of time possible, she waited for it to turn off before laying it back down on the grass beneath her. Just hoping and praying that Flack could hear what was going on.

"What do you want?!" she screamed.

"You're comin' with us, girlie."

She shook her head, causing strands of her blonde hair to fall out of the messy bun she put her hair in before leaving the precinct. "Not without you telling me what you want."

"What are you goin' to do? You have no weapon," he stated, causing her to emit a sigh. If only she could get something out of them for Don to hear. Just a voice and an accent more than likely wouldn't be enough for him to get a lead on.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, she fought to contain composure. She tried to figure out the best way to get away from the two men with only one good hand. Though her knee would be well enough to run on, she didn't exactly want to try that theory out unless she had a concrete plan. "Can you just answer one question for me?" She looked over her shoulder once more and let out a deep breath. "What do you want with me?"

A cynical laugh escaped the man's lips. "When we killed that stupid Shailor bitch, we kept hoping you would get this scene." Turning to his partner, he shrugged. "I guess we lucked out."

"What do you need me for?" she asked, totally confused as to what they were talking about.

"She's playing the stupid blonde card, Seany," the first man stated to the shorter attacker to his left. "You're the darling wife of a Detective Don Flack Junior, right?" Slowly, she nodded. Her eyes fell upon the simple silver band on her right ring finger that was graced with a small princess cut aquamarine, her birthstone. Don had given it to her on her first birthday, March 17th, since returning to New York. Noting the slightly sharp edges on the stone, she knew what she had to do.

The second attacker, Sean's, voice cut through her thoughts. "He put us out of business five years ago." It all made sense to her now. Though she wasn't in New York City at the time, she heard all about the bust of the Wilder Gang. Don had left several voicemails on her cell phone telling her about the bust, and then everything that happened when the scene was hi-jacked and the fake gas leak at the lab. She couldn't return them until she got out of court for the day. Anjuli's last case while working with the Concord Crime Lab in New Hampshire was one of a man who killed his wife's two children, his step-daughters. It had happened years earlier, but he was set for another trial when new evidence was found.

"And that has to do with me how? I wasn't in the state at the time," she stated, conviction in her voice, hoping Don was still on the line.

Sean nodded. "Maybe not. But you were dating Detective Flack. You have since married him."

"And had his child. Can't forget about that beautiful baby girl, Seany." At the mention of her daughter, Jules' eyes flashed with fury.

"Keep her out of this," Jules warned.

Another laugh escaped the taller, and yet-to-be-named, attacker. "We don't hurt children. Don't worry about that, girlie." Jules swallowed the lump in her throat as she used her good hand to slip her bangs behind her ear. Her fist clenched when he stroked the side of her face, a sick smile crossing his features. "Just her mommy."

Jules turned her head to the side and out of his touch, causing him to become even more angry. "What do you need me to do? Give up on this case? Say I couldn't find any evidence linking you to killing Courtney Shailor. That's fine. I'll do it! I'll do anything!" she shrieked. "It'll be like she never existed! I swear!"

"That's not what we want." He smirked and shook his head. "Detective Flack took something away from us. It's time to take something away from him."

Anjuli could feel the tears pooling in her eyes, and bit her lip hard enough to stop them. Growing up around boys, she learned when angry, her tears didn't always work. And she didn't want to try right now. Pushing all logical thoughts to the side, she began to stand from her position on the ground. "What do you think you're doin', girlie?" Sean asked, his accent on full display. "Did we say you could get up?"

He placed a hand to her forehead and pushed her back towards the ground. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried again, this time standing straight up in front of the two men. From where she stood, she could tell Sean was around 5'11" while the other clocked in close to 6'4. "Please," she begged. The tears threatened again. "Please, just.. just let me go."

The taller one pursed his lips and shook his head. "You're gonna come with us, girlie."

Glancing between the two, and then to the street behind them, she bit on the inside of her lip before landing a punch square to the jaw of Sean. The second her right hand - and her ring's prongs - collided with his skin, blood began to seep from the wound. Balancing herself on her slightly injured knee, she tried to kick the taller of the two, only to get her ankle caught in his grasp.

She struggled to get out of it, using her good hand to try to fend the man off. Instead of giving in, he grabbed the petite blonde and threw her over his shoulder.

Catching a glimpse of her birthday ring, she noticed blood collecting in the grooves. She struggled to use her injured fingers to remove the jewelry, before letting it fall to the ground.

Hoping and praying that whenever her husband or the uni assigned to the scene arrived they would notice the clues she tried to leave them. Her cell phone, car keys, right hand ring and flashlight were all that she could leave for them. As well as the blood of one of her attackers.

Sean, with blood trickling down his throat, slid the backdoor to their awaiting van open to allow his partner to throw Anjuli inside. The bloodied man stepped in the back with her and awaited the taller one.

Anjuli noticed a third man in the driver's seat. Red hair crawled out from underneath the baseball cap he had on his head, and his eyes were glued to the road in front of him. "We're good, Devin. Let's go," said the only attacker whose name had not be announced yet. Chuckling to herself, she remembered back to a lapse in her relationship with Flack, when he dated Devon Maxford.

With her two main attackers in the backseat with her, she turned to look out the two back windows. Red and blue lights were seen coming down the street, sirens blazing. In a swift motion, her right elbow met Sean in the face, hitting him square in the nose. She followed suit with a left elbow to the man on the opposite side.

The moves only allowed a few seconds, but she jumped at the opportunity. She had hoped that whoever was arriving at the scene would notice the dark minivan driving sporadically down the street due to Anjuli trying to take over the wheel.

Saying a quick prayer, she tried to overpower Devin behind the wheel. When she couldn't take over, she bit down on his ear, causing him to lose grip of the steering wheel to tend to his sore body part. Taking a deep breath, she used both hands, though pain tore through her left arm at the use of the injured limbs, to try to steer the vehicle into a telephone post on the side of the street.

The last thing Anjuli saw was the car turning slowly but surely back to head straight down the street. When the butt of the gun that first knocked her down earlier came in contact with the same spot again, things began to go black.