Author's Note: So this is a little new for me. Never written for CSI: NY before but I thought I would try my hand at another fandom I'm quite fond of. I know the Post SD fic is completely overused and beaten like the dead horse it has become, but after reading all the D/L stories of FF I thought this was at least somewhat original. If not, well, I apologize. If anyone feels that this is too similar to another story posted on here, please PM me and I will take it down. I'm not trying to step on anybody's toes I promise!

Spoilers: Snow Day; but if you are a true D/L fan and haven't seen this episode than, well, I don't know what to say anymore.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with CSI: NY or CBS. If I did, I would own Carmine and keep him locked away in a tower for me to enjoy for the rest of my days.

- - - - -

And I cannot guess what we'll discover

When we turn the dirt in our palms just like shovels

But I know our filthy hands can wash one another's

And not one speck will remain

- Death Cab for Cutie, "Soul Meets Body"

- - - - -

Broken

Lindsay knew that it wasn't going to be pretty when she finally saw Danny. Flack had told her he didn't sound good. But she rushed into the warehouse and saw him there, pushing away from the man he, moments before, had riddled with bullets.

"Danny. Oh, my God..."

Danny slid from the back of the trailer into Lindsay's arms, cradling his left arm close to his chest. His mouth was full of a bitter metallic taste that he couldn't make go away.

"Oh, my God. Danny."

"Lindsay..." he painfully wheezed. Somewhere near him Flack said something and his mouth managed to generate a coherent response. Flack insisted that he get seen by an EMS and Lindsay, still carrying the majority of Danny's weight on her petite frame, said she would take him. She looked up at him cautiously, wondering what had happened.

He wouldn't look at her; couldn't hold his head up. His dirty shirt hung loosely off his aching, bloody frame, fingers wrapped in a crude splint made of cloth and his badge. Blood dripped from his split lips, teeth coated in the disgusting crimson color. They hobbled away from everyone, away from the dead bodies, the trailer; all of it.

"I'm sorry." Now she wasn't looking at him, both staring at the ground as they slowly made their way out.

He stopped moving and she followed suit. They finally looked each other in the eyes. His mind was swimming, thoughts jumbled, memory chaotic. But standing there in front of him was Lindsay Monroe. His Lindsay. His Montana.

"What? What are you sorry about?" Because at that moment, he really couldn't fathom why she sounded so broken. Why her eyes flickered from him to the ground and back up to him. He couldn't figure out why she sounded so remorseful.

"You weren't supposed to be here. You took my shift."

That was when it all clicked for Danny. Around the haze of what he could likely conclude was a concussion, he knew what was going through her head. But it still didn't make sense to him.

So Danny glanced back to where all of the flurry of events had just happened; just for a moment. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like for Lindsay to have been there going thru all of that. It was beyond his comprehension to even picture the beautiful woman he woke up next to this morning being in this kind of state right now.

He would never wish that upon anyone. Danny Messer knew to never doubt Lindsay's strength or her ability to hold her own. But she was his girl now, his to protect and to love and to cherish. So he turned away from the scene behind him and continued walking out with her.

Moving forward just one step at a time, with Lindsay by his side.

- - - - -

He looked broken.

The EMTs had said his hand was broken, that at some point he was going to need surgery. His ribs were cracked and broken and bruised. His nose had to be bent back into place. They assessed his head wound and that was when they loaded him into the back of the bus and sent him off to Queen of Mercy. Danny had passed out before the ambulance doors were even closed. Lindsay had followed behind the ambulance and took Danny home hours later after he had been discharged. He was up to his eyes in pain medication and strict instructions to take it easy for the next couple weeks. His youth was slipping thru his fingers and he wasn't going to be able to bounce back like he used to.

As he lay sprawled out on his bed, only wearing a pair of loose fitting sweats, he broke her heart.

Because he was broken.

His chest was wrapped in bandages, the only true cure for his tortured ribs. The doctors had properly wrapped his hand with splints, ordering him to come back in two weeks to determine whether he really was going to need surgery. His mouth was still coated in his own blood and saliva, his upper lip stitched shut on the inside, where his teeth had cut thru. The bruises were beginning to appear already, ugly shades of deep purple and blues and disgusting blacks ones sprinkled with tiny red specks. His glasses had broken at some point during his horrendous adventure at the warehouse and she had fortunately found an extra pair in his bedside drawer.

She didn't dare touch him, afraid that he would finally shatter into a million pieces. So she sat, curled in a chair she had dragged in from the other room, sipping on a cup of chamomile tea. Lindsay sat guard over him, watching his constricted chest rise and fall slowly as he dreamed in a deeply sedated haze. His bad hand was extended away from him, head tilted to the right; the better side.

The side that hadn't taken the butt of an AK-47 to the temple.

Lindsay shivered and quietly got up in search of a blanket. She washed out her empty mug and wiped her bangs from her eyes with the back of her hand. With a heavy sigh she pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and trudged back into his bedroom, curling back up in her chair and fell asleep watching over him.

- - - - -

She awoke with a start, breathing labored as she forced to calm herself down. It was just a nightmare, but the image of Danny lying dead in that trailer bed was burned onto her retinas. Lindsay glanced at Danny's alarm clock and pushed her stiff body from the chair. Her body was sore from the cramped position she had maintained all night and her muscles protested as she silently stretched herself out. Danny hadn't moved since she had last seen him before she drifted off hours ago. She knew he was going to wake soon and would be in a lot of pain. Lindsay tip-toed over to the bed and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She kissed his temple and headed into the kitchen to retrieve his meds and a glass of water.

Lindsay stood at the sink for a moment after filling his glass, bracing herself on the edge of the counter. She let her head drop down to her chest; she was still shaken up from her dream and it was beginning to get to her. She knew she had to be strong for Danny as he recovered over the next couple weeks; and she could be. It wasn't her in all the pain; wasn't her that had to fight for everyone's safety. He had selflessly taken her shift so she could enjoy her "Snow Day" and therefor had walked right into all the danger.

She could apologize as much as she wanted. It didn't change the fact that it was supposed to be her in that warehouse.

From behind her she heard a quiet creaking noise emanating from Danny's bedroom. But she didn't turn around; she couldn't look him in the eyes right now. Soon she heard his feet shuffling across the hardwood floors behind her and he let out a heavy, painful sigh.

"You aren't supposed to be up and moving yet. You could have just called for me. The doctor said..."

"C'mon Montana, you really think I'm so helpless that I can't go get my own Vicodin?"

"That's not what I meant."

She could picture the look on his face right now. His eyes were still swollen from having just woken up, but she could feel them staring into her back. It would take him a second to clear his head but he would realize she was avoiding looking at him. And now, as he realized it, would tip his head to the side and quirk an eyebrow at her. He wouldn't say anything quite yet and instead just assess the situation. How to approach her, what to say, what to do.

Danny shuffled closer to her. His body was throbbing as waves of pain cascaded from head to toe. "Lindsay, look at me."

Everyone knew, including the two of them, that he never called her Lindsay. Maybe Monroe, usually Montana, but never by her name. That's when she knew he was concerned. She knew he was processing everything right now in his head. He had his moments but Danny was an intuitive guy by nature, especially when it came to her and her feelings.

He moved closer to her again. She kept her back to him, chin still touching her chest. Her head had suddenly grown very heavy and it almost seemed impossible to hold up any longer. Lindsay could hear him inching closer and closer to her. She heard his sharp intake of breath from pushing his body too far too soon, but even then she couldn't bring herself to turn around and face him. Danny was so close she could feel his breath on the back of her throat, feel his body heat radiating off of him; she could smell him now. A combination of his faded cologne, sweat, and the tiniest bit of copper.

"Why won't you look at me?" Danny was whispering now, standing right behind her. His hand hovered over the small of her back as he yearned to touch her; feel that spark run up his arm when their skin touched. His hand drifted to her brown curls, fingertips grazing the ends. He didn't know if he could handle having a lock of her hair in his fists without sending him over the edge. Their evening from the night before still lingered in his mind; her lips against his, his hands clawing at her back, pulling her shirt over her head. He could remember her taste as he nibbled on her neck, laying her down on his pool table as they enjoyed each other for the majority of the night before blissfully passing out together. He held her close as she curled into his side, using his chest as a pillow.

But he couldn't smile right now, because his Montana was in pain and needed him in more than just the physical way. She still hadn't budged since he had dragged himself into the kitchen looking for her. He understood why, but he didn't at the same time. "Lindsay, can you please look at me?"

Lindsay's shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice begging her, but she couldn't. At the moment she could keep the tears at bay but she knew the second she turned around and saw Danny, her self-control would be obliterated. His ghostly touch along her back and hair was slowly pushing her towards the edge as it was.

"I can't," Lindsay said, her voice barely there. She wondered for a moment if he heard her, but deep down Lindsay knew that Danny already knew her answer.

Danny finally closed what little distance still remained between them and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his bare chest pressing up against her. Gently, he kissed the crook of her neck and stuck his nose in her mess of chocolate curls, taking a deep breath; savoring her smell. "You know I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe."

She sighed deeply and leaned her head back against his chest. "I know. And that's what scares me." Lindsay intertwined her fingers with Danny's on her stomach, conscious of his bad hand. There was blood still under his nails and it made her sick.

He was broken. And she was getting there.

"Don't let it scare you, Montana. I want to be there to catch you; to save you." He reached around and gently kissed her on the cheek, nuzzling against the side of her face.

Lindsay spun around in his arms to face him. Their foreheads rested against the others, just staring into each other's eyes. Danny could get lost in her chocolate pools for the rest of his life. He pressed his lips against her forehead, pulling her close. She rested her head against his chest, soothed by the sound of his calm heartbeat. She hugged him back as hard as she found appropriate, considerate of his fresh injuries.

"Let me be there for you, Montana."

Everything had moved so fast. Months ago she had left him standing in the precinct with his bruised ego and broken heart. And just yesterday, they had slept together. She had gone from resenting him to falling for him and she could tell he had grown to feel the same way. An innocent act of flirting and coming to her rescue had resulted in him being attacked at a crime scene. After months of cute bantering and shameless flirting and awkward moments at the lab, they stood in his kitchen as he declared so much more than what was involved with this recovery process. Danny had changed the line of conversation to one of a long-term relationship and Lindsay wondered when this had happened. Because it had, right under her nose. And as she stared at him, their eyes searching each others, she realized it was a change she was ready to welcome.

Sensing that Lindsay was teetering on that edge, on the verge of falling off and tumbling into a deep unknown, he gently reached down and kissed her ever so slightly. As she deepened the kiss, she carefully reached up and cupped his cheek, caressing his cheek with her thumb. He could feel her feet coming back down to reality as he pulled away. Her eyes were closed and even after the kiss ended, she kept them shut for just a few seconds longer.

He watched for a reaction from her, any kind of sign that she was going to be ok. As her lips curled into a grin and she slowly opened her eyes, he knew she was going to be fine. They were going to be fine.

Lindsay looked up at Danny, still smiling. "You promise you'll be there? Because I don't want a day to come when I have to look for you because you've wandered off."

Danny's face broke out into a grin. "As long as you promise me you won't go far either."

Their lips met once more in a hard kiss screaming out their need for each other.

"I promise," she mumbled against his lips. Lindsay could feel his smile against her mouth. "Now stop grinning and kiss me."

"Yes ma'am."

Maybe one day Lindsay would stop beating herself up over what had happened. Maybe one day Danny could look back and realize how much good had could come from something so bad.

And...and maybe they weren't so broken after all.