Title: Gimme a Miracle, Please
Category: CSI: NY
Rating: T
Genre: Angst/Romance
Pairing: Don Flack/Lindsay Monroe
Prompt: Muscles
Word Count: 891
Summary: He needed this miracle; deserved it!
Gimme a Miracle, Please
-1/1-
Every single muscle hurt like a mother...
Don's face scrunched up in subdued agony; he wasn't one for showing pain, but this wasn't some little scratch, he could tell that from right off. He tried to remember what was happening, what got him here. His mind was hazy, his memories a little out of reach. His hand bunched up in the scratchy white blanket that covered him as he fought the black of his mind to get to his memory.
There was a case... Stella got called away but him and Lindsay were on their way into the building; he was giving her the details while she nodded, mind already running a mile a minute. And then... the building shuddered, there was a loud bang, and kablooey, the whole place went up. He... He reached for her, dragged her to the floor and covered her body with his. There was no time to get out; the building was raining down in chunks all around them... There was yelling, crying, pain... And then darkness.
His eyes shot open, spotting the white hospital ceiling above him. He could feel the wires connected all over, how they seemed to restrain him to where he laid. The blanket over his waist was too tight, uncomfortable, not like the big, comfy blanket that sprawled across th e bed at home. The pillow was stiff beneath his head, hard and out of place; not like the two or three that he used at home, always waking up to find them all under her head. She was always a pillow-stealer. His eyes looked around, blurred but he was making out shapes, familiar faces now...
"Don? Flack? Can you hear me?"
Stella.
He nodded, blinking a few times to get her face clear.
"Flack? There was an explosion..." Mac. "You're going to be all right. Injuries were little, just a nasty bump on the head."
"Lindsay," he rasped out. Their faces contorted with confusion and he was pretty sure what he managed to get out just sounded like a strangled cough. "Lindsay," he tried again, coughing to clear his throat. "Where's Linds?"
They looked at each other uncertainly.
"Where is she? I wanna know..." He began struggling against the wires and the too-tight blanket.
"Don! Don, stop! You can't just-" Stella struggled to stop him.
"Where is she?" he half-yelled, voice still hoarse. "I wanna see her!" His body ached as he tried to sit up and having them push him back wasn't helping. "Get offa me!"
"Just lay back, all right? You've been in a serious accident and you may not be injured, but you keep fighting like this and you will be," Mac shouted back at him firmly.
Panting from exertion, he shook his head, "You think I'm thinkin' 'a me right now? I wanna know what's goin' on with Lindsay." Red-faced, he glared at them.
"She's in surgery," Stella replied quietly, glancing at Mac. "It... It doesn't look good."
Stricken, he fell back to the bed, suddenly out of energy to fight. "I covered her... I... I had her under me... She... She was s'posed to be okay... I..." His voice caught.
"Flack?" Mac wondered, expression slowly understanding.
Don blinked furiously. "We were just..." He lifted a hand, annoyed when the wires made it hard to bring to his face. He rubbed his eyes, covering his pained expression from them.
"You were together." Mac didn't make it a question; he knew.
Don nodded. "I... She... We were..." He swallowed tightly, hurting now from another strained muscle; his heart.
He felt Stella take his hand and all he could do was wish it was Lindsay's. He pulled away, lifted his other hand to cover his face as well and then shook his head. "Get out," he told them through grit teeth.
"Don."
"Flack, I don't think-"
"Jus' get out. Now. I need..." He clenched his jaw. "God, I need..."
Silently, they stood a few moments longer, uncertain, before finally leaving him alone and closing the door behind them.
Rolling onto his side, Don curled up into the fetal position as much as he could with the strain of his body and the wires in the way. Growing up, he'd done his fair share of praying, but working the blue as long as he had, he didn't have the time or conviction to pray anymore. But as he laid there, the woman he'd have given his life up for that day going through surgery, he began praying with vigor. He needed her; needed God to do him this one favor. He'd seen the world go down the hole every goddamn day and now he needed a little relief and this is where it came in. He needed this; he fuckin' deserved this. 'Cause hell, he didn't know how he'd survive without her.
Silent, hot tears falling on his clasped hands, Don Flack Jr. prayed for a miracle and hours later, when she was out of surgery and due to make a fine recovery, he thanked God with everything he had left in him. So maybe the world was too fucked to really save but he'd do his best day in and day out and he'd cherish the good that was left, the good that God still had the decency to bless the world with. Lindsay Monroe.