Skeletons

Summary: Everyone's got skeletons in their closet. Even Lindsay. Now that her 'bloody' secret is out, and her past comes back with a vengeance. DL

"Mama?" Lindsay rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Mama, what's going on?"

Lindsay's mother rushed into her bedroom and shut the door quietly, her breathing hard and labored.

She hastily grabbed her daughter's right arm and started dragging her out of bed. "Hurry, Lindsay. Get up!" she whispered frantically. "Quick now, hide under your bed."

Lindsay scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion and lay petrified in her bed. It was 2 am in the morning, and her mother wanted her to do what? Was this some sort of trick?

"Mama? What's going on?" she asked.

Her mother's eyes widened in desperation as she continued tugging and pulling Lindsay, this time more hysterically. "Please, Lindsay. Don't ask questions. Just get under your bed. Do it for me, okay?"

Now Lindsay was starting to panic. Something wasn't right. "But, I don't even fit under my bed!" Lindsay cried. "Mama, why aren't you telling me what's wrong?"

She was now on her hands and knees on the carpet, her mother still trying to shove her underneath her bed. "You'll fit, pumpkin. Don't worry," she said. "You have to, for God's sake."

Her mother had called her 'pumpkin'. She never called Lindsay 'pumpkin' unless she had horrible news to tell her.

Lindsay forced herself underneath her bed, tears streaming down her face. She was drowning in a wallop of emotions and she didn't know what to do. "Mama!" she whimpered. "Mama, please! Tell me what's happening. Where's Papa? Why isn't he here?"

Her mother froze at the mention of her father. A glazed look came over her features as she eyed her daughter perilously and sorrowfully. "Papa's just not here right now. Don't worry, pumpkin. Everything will be all –"

Heavy footsteps coming up the stairs cut her off. She glanced frighteningly at the door and shoved her daughter deeper and further under the bed. "It's okay," she reassured Lindsay. "Whatever happens, I want you to stay quiet."

"But, Mama – "

Her mother cut off her protests. "No 'buts' Lindsay. Whatever happens, don't move and don't make a sound."

The footsteps were growing louder and getting closer.

Lindsay's mother ducked her head underneath the bed and gave her daughter a quick peck on the forehead. "I love you, pumpkin. Papa does, too. Remember, don't make any noises."

Lindsay was about to say something when her mother draped the bed covers over her, shielding her from what, she didn't know.

A moment of silence passed, and nothing happened. Lindsay had no idea if her mother was even still in the room. The violent footsteps that had sounded just moments ago were gone. Lindsay willed a shaking hand toward her bed covers, suppressing the urge to pull them apart and jump out from underneath her hiding spot. A sudden creaking noise sounded, and Lindsay's hand froze in midair.

Without warning, Lindsay's bedroom door slammed opened, causing her to flinch at the pounding impact. The tears that had momentarily subsided returned with full force.

Lindsay snuck a peak through a small crack of her bed covers and saw big, black combat boots treading slowly into her room. She sniffled, trying to control her sobs. Where was her mother?

The stranger growled, took three steps, and looked behind inside Lindsay's closet. That was when her mother unleashed and ear piercing scream. Lindsay cringed. She couldn't stop crying. She wanted to jump out from her hiding spot. She didn't understand what was going on. Her mother kept screaming. She wouldn't stop. The strange man kept yelling back. That was when Lindsay heard it – the hard impact of skin on skin. The man had hit her mother. The hitting continued. And her mother's unrelenting cries made Lindsay bawl even harder. She wanted to help her mother, but she couldn't. Her mother had told her to hide and stay quiet. She couldn't mover from her spot. She was too terrified.

"No . . ." Lindsay sniveled softly. "Mama . . ."

Briiiiiing! Briiiiiing!

Big, doe like eyes shot open and searched their surroundings frantically. Sweat poured down Lindsay's face, all the way down to the nape of her neck. Her breathing was rough and strenuous and her mouth felt dry. She'd had the dream again. It was always the same one.

Briiiiiing! Briiiiiing!

Lindsay eyed her cell phone despairingly. She should be thanking it, really; rather than threatening it with her eyes. If her phone hadn't rung, then her dream would have continued. Lindsay shuddered at the thought. If her phone hadn't woken her up, she would have finished her nightmare, and that was something that she did not want to do.

Briiiiiing! Briiiiiing!

She stared at her cell phone for another moment before she snatched it up and checked the caller ID. Mac Taylor. Lindsay swung her legs over her bed and snapped her phone open, clearing her throat slightly before she pressed the 'talk' button.

"Yeah, Mac?"

Mac sighed tritely over the receiver. "Lindsay," he greeted her. "We have a DUA in Washington Square Park. Stella and Hawkes are already there."

Lindsay tossed her bed sheets aside and got up. "Sure, Mac."

Lindsay shut her phone and tossed it onto her bed. She massaged her temples exhaustedly and looked at herself in the mirror. The whites of her eyes were red and bloodshot, and dark heavy bags were beginning to form around them. Lindsay exhaled noisily. She knew from experience that no amount of make up or concealer could truly hide them. She just hoped her co-workers would be too consumed in the case – like they usually were – to notice her physical state.

"Lindsay, are you okay?"

'So much for being consumed in the case,' Lindsay thought jadedly. The moment she'd stepped foot on the crime scene, Stella rounded on her. The redness in her eyes was now a light pink, but the bags underneath were still evident.

"Didn't get enough sleep," she replied. Half the truth was better than no truth at all.

Stella's eyes narrowed slightly but nonetheless, she shook off any suspicions, and nodded in understanding. "Waking up to a murder is never pleasant," she sympathized.

Lindsay's focus wavered indistinctly at her comment, but she promptly covered it up. This was neither the time nor the place for personal issues.

She set down her kit and kneeled in beside the victim. "So, what do we have?" she asked.

"A single bullet, right through the chest," Hawkes answered. "I'm pretty sure it pierced the heart, but we'll verify it with Hammerback."

Lindsay nodded and pulled on her latex gloves, ignoring the slight unsettling feeling in her head. She blinked abrasively, attempting to knock out the queasiness. The lack of sleep was really getting to her.

"You sure you're feeling okay?" Hawkes asked, his face engraved with concern. "You look a little sick."

' 'Little' is an understatement,' Lindsay thought to herself.

"I'm all right," she assured him.

Hawkes eyed her judiciously before returning his concentration back to the victim. Lindsay let out a deep breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She'd never been good at lying, however, she was usually able to put up a façade just as good as the smartest criminals.

Lindsay felt like she had just dodged a bullet by Hawkes. Two bullets if she included Stella. But who knew how many more were to come?

(A/N)

Okay. The idea for this story has been roaming around in my head for WEEKS now. I just had to get it out. It's going to be different from 'Getting To Close'. This story is going to focus A LOT on Lindsay's personal life. Not too much where it bores you readers to death, but enough to keep the intrigue going. It's going to reveal the reason why she became involved in forensics. It's the type of situation were the past comes back to haunt her. 'Getting To Close' is focused more on Lindsay's reaction to a case (think 'Stealing Home') and how it affects her as a human being, and not just a CSI. In other words, this story is going to be a little heavier than 'Getting To Close.' Let me know if you like it or not!

On a side note, Danny's role in this story will be faintly more important then his role in 'Getting To Close'.

On another side note, to my loyal reviewer PurrificationArrow who is in the dark on CSI: New York, "DL" means "Danny/Lindsay". It's a shipping thing. Like what most fan fictions are about! You should watch the show; it's rather interesting! And no need to worry, I'll update 'Can't Hide' very soon – possibly by Saturday of next week. Maybe you can spread that around to other people who are waiting on that story! Lol!