A/N: So, I'm in love with my iPod cause it gives me the best ideas. So as soon as it's legal, I'm marrying my little blue nano. We'll make fic babies.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


I hear voices, I hear voices like
My dad sayin' 'Quit that team and
you'll be a quitter for the rest of your life'
And Mama tellin' me to say a prayer
Everytime I lay down at night
And Grandma sayin' "If you find the one,
You better treat her right"
Yeah, I hear voices all the time

-'Voices' by Chris Young;

"Ready to try the parallel bars?" The physical therapist offered him a warm smile. Her voice was filled with optimism and sometimes it did nothing but piss Danny Messer off. Today, however he just nodded his head and wheeled himself over to the bars.

"Take your time, Danny." She coached.

"I got it." Danny snapped back at her, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She smiled, "I want you to get pissed off. Take it out on the bars, Danny."

Danny nodded and stood on shaky legs, his fingers wrapping around the smooth oak bars so hard his knuckles turned white. His eyes clinched shut as he searched for the strength.

"C'mon, Danny. Hit it. Keep your eye on the ball and swing." He took a step forward at the sound of his father's voice in his head. The only time Louie Messer Sr. was happy with his youngest son was on the baseball field. It had been what pushed Danny to focus on baseball and take everything he had to the field.

"Say your prayers, Daniel." The same words his mother told him every night til he was eleven, "They'll get you through your hardest days and the best of times." He took another step on his aching feet. His muscles rejected the movement, for too long they'd been cooped up in that chair and now it hurt to move them at all. He took his weight on his hands momentarily as he sent off a short prayer. "God, give me strength." He whispered.

"You're doing great, Danny." The therapist coached, "One step at a time. Deep breaths."

"Don't you dare quit, Daniel." He feels seven again, falling off his bike, "Get your butt back on that bike and ride."

Another step and he felt like he was going to pass out. He loosened his grip on the bars and sunk down to his knees. The therapist reached for him, but he shrugged her off, "Just gimme a second. I got this. I just need a break."

She noddeded and backed up a few steps.

"Danny, you're a good man, just don't be afraid to ask for help." Mac had told him that time and time again. That he was too stubborn and needed to learn to ask for help when he needed it. He glanced over at his therapist, "Can you help me back up."

"Sure." She nodded, hooking her arms under his and helping him back to his feet.

Danny took a deep breath, gripping the bars again and taking another step, "Fuck this hurts." He mumbled under his breath. He was over half-way a few more steps and he'd be at the end of the parallel bars.

"That ten percent chance? I'll take it." Lindsay's voice was the strongest one in mind. His wife and daughter were the two things that kept him going. The boiling point for Danny Messer's strength. They made him stronger and with his wife's words in his head, he made it to the end of the parallel bars and let out a shaky sigh of relief.

He looked up when he heard applause and saw his family standing in the doorway. The therapist wheeled over his chair, "Looks like you got your own cheering section, Detective."

"The best one." Danny smiled.

"Dada!" Lucy yelled at pointed at her father.

"What?" Lindsay whispered.

"Did she just speak?" Danny asked and Lindsay nodded, "What'd you say Luce?"

"Dada!" Lucy giggled and repeated herself, "Dada! Dada! Dada! Dada!"

That was the best voice Danny Messer could ever hear. Slowly, he walked without help across the therapy room floor to his daughter.

A/N: Short? Yes. But I love it.