AN: Alright, so kill me now... I forgot to post this several months ago. I feel HORRIBLE! But keep in mind, when I finished this, it was right before the horrible hamstring injury, so you pretty much know I was preoccupied with drugs and therapy at the time. Again, I am so sorry from the bottom of my heart and I hope you forgive me even tho I probably won't post anything for a VERY long time where this story is concerned. I'll try to show all the NY fans some love, but ever since RND, it's kinda been hard for me to get back to that place with Danny and Lindsay. And, like most of you, I think the writers should die a horrible death for the way they handled the situation. Nuff said. Enjoy.

Chapter 2: Shakespeare's Tragedies

The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you

-"Broken" Lifehouse

The clock ticked away the hours as Danny sat on his bed staring into an empty glass, the scotch gone and the ice cubes melting away. He felt as if he'd lost the will to live. He'd called Lindsay only God knew how many times and left her countless messages in hopes of persuading her to call him back so they could talk, but it just didn't look like it was going to happen. It was ten to three now, and he'd already emptied the bottle of scotch from his liquor cabinet, intent on drinking away his sorrows.

With the sting of Lindsay's words still echoing in his mind, Danny did the only thing he could; he went to his closet and after rooting around for several minutes, he pulled out his old guitar case. Opening the dusty leather box, he set the well-worn Gibson aside on the bed and lifted the soft silk lining to reveal what was beneath it. Photos, black and white and color, folded notes, dried flowers, and several other odds and ends showed themselves for the first time in years.

Danny picked up a tattered copy of Romeo and Juliet, his mind instantly transported back in time to high school, when her first met Amie Catalano, the woman that would make him do things he swore he'd never do. A tear came to his eyes, one he refused to shed in his drunken stupor. Danny frantically wiped it away and swore to himself that he'd tell Lindsay everything about Amie. Not only did she need to know who Amie was, but she also needed to know why it was so hard for him to let go of her memory.

It was at that moment, as the alcohol went straight to his head, that Danny chose to pack up all these mementos and make his way to her apartment. He knew he'd catch hell for it, but it was the only thing he could think of. If Lindsay refused to call him back, then he had to go over there and talk to her. He couldn't keep something as import as this waiting. Relationships were built on the ability to trust each other with things such as these, and so far, he'd gotten it wrong. This needed to be fixed, now.

In his drunken mind, it all seemed too perfect, until he stood up and the world began to spin. But that didn't keep Danny Messer from doing what he set his mind to. No, it had the opposite effect. Weaving and swaying dangerously from side to side, bouncing from wall to wall, he barely managed to make it down the hall to the elevator, where he waited several minutes for it to arrive at his floor. The ride down didn't take long, and neither did hailing a cab at this ungodly hour of the morning. They always seemed to be waiting, and with a bar just across the street, it was the one thing Danny could count on when he was this inebriated.

After having given the cabby the address to Lindsay's apartment, he sat back against the worn and tattered old seat with the guitar case in his lap. The lull of the cab and the silence that enveloped him was enough to put Danny to sleep. It was the cabby's shrill voice that suddenly awoke him several minutes later, letting him know they'd arrived at his destination, and that Danny owed him 12.50. He threw a twenty in the man's general direction then stepped out onto the street, his body still swaying dangerously from side to side as he walked up the steps to the main door.

A search of his pockets turned up the set of keys Lindsay had given him a few weeks back. It was a big step, they'd reminded each other. Too bad Danny had to go and take two more backwards. Well, at least he still had her keys. He just hoped she hadn't changed the locks. Either way, Danny decided to be a gentleman and knock before just barging in. After all, Lindsay had a weapon and knew how to use it. Better safe than sorry…

It took several attempts, but Danny finally found the right key that opened the main entrance. He staggered in and proceeded to stumble up two flights of stairs before he reached Lindsay's floor. She probably heard him way before he even made it to her door judging from the racket he made after missing the last step and doing a face plant into the dirty, worn carpet. Danny groaned before picking himself up off the floor and continuing to stagger down the hall. It hadn't hurt, surprisingly, but he still felt a trickle of blood coming from the cut lip he'd sustained in the fall.

Apartment 203, Lindsay's door, and Danny's destiny; the world might have been spinning, but he could still see the numbers quite clearly. For a moment he stood there in the hall, gathering up his courage then finally knocked and waited for her to answer. In the meantime, he placed his hand on the door, steadying himself on the unmoving surface.

On the inside of the apartment, Lindsay was still seething, partly because of what happened at the lab and party because Danny was persistent. When she'd walked in earlier that evening, she'd done just as he'd predicted: She cuddled up on the couch with a tub of Chunky Monkey and popped "Gone With The Wind" into her DVD player as she cried her eyes out. She'd cursed Danny for stealing her heart then cursed herself for falling for him in the first place.

During the course of the movie, Lindsay had received two phone calls on her personal cell from him, with subsequent voicemails that basically said the same thing, "Can we please talk?" Her female instinct wanted to do nothing more than to rip his head off for being such a jerk while the CSI in her wanted to resolve this issue. But he'd been an ass, and therefore deserved the silent treatment. After all, this whole fight had started over a photo of a woman. She had every right to be mad at him, especially if this woman was still a part of his life.

As she was getting ready for bed, Lindsay got yet another phone call and voicemail, this time on her department issued phone since she'd turned the other one off, not wanting to deal with the drama. He continued to call her, hour after hour, wanting to talk. 'You had your chance to talk, Messer. Too late now,' she thought angrily as she put the phone on vibrate. But the buzzing kept her awake. It was giving her a headache. Tomorrow was supposed to be her day off, and the one thing she wanted to do was sleep in before having to deal with her problems, but that didn't look like it was happening, especially when she heard the knock at her door.

Muttering several curses, Lindsay pulled herself out of bed and threw on the light blue terry cloth robe hanging on the back of her bedroom door. She knew who was knocking at this ungodly hour of the night, and was tempted to tell him to piss off, but one look through the peephole made her change her mind. Danny stood at her door, his eyes red and his bottom lip split open, the blood trickling down his chin. She cringed and immediately opened the door for him. No amount of anger could keep her from helping anyone in trouble, even if it was her jackass boyfriend who'd just pissed her off only hours before.

Danny had been resting comfortably against the door when all of a sudden his perch was pulled out from under him. In his drunken state, his cat-like reflexes were practically non-existent, and instead of being able to correct for the imbalance, he fell straight into the apartment doing yet another face plant onto the hardwood floor at Lindsay's purple fuzzy sock clad feet. She shrieked in shock and surprise before quickly recovering.

"Oh, my God, Danny!" Almost immediately she was on the floor beside him where he lay, gently helping him roll onto his back as he groaned. More blood, this time from his nose. Lindsay shook her head. She slipped her arm beneath his neck and helped Danny into a sitting position. Together, they stood up and she led him over to the couch. "Lay back and pinch your nose," she instructed before running back over to the door to close it then making her way into the kitchen for several napkins.

"He had to do this tonight," Lindsay muttered as she grabbed a handful of paper towels and rushed back to the couch. The anger began to fizzle back in, slowly at first, but once the floodgates opened, there was no stopping it. She was mad that he'd been such a jerk about that photo. She was mad that he'd kept calling her all night when it was obvious she didn't want to speak to him. And she was mad that he'd come over knowing full well she wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

When Lindsay returned to the couch, Danny was doing just as she'd instructed. His head was nestled against the armrest with one of her soft pillows beneath it as he used his left hand to keep his nose from bleeding. Using the paper towels, she mopped up the excess blood, throwing them into the trash can she'd grabbed from the other end of the living room and placed at her feet.

"I'm sorry for acting like a jackass," Danny muttered as he closed his eyes once his nose finally stopped bleeding. He'd been without a drink for over an hour now, and it was becoming quite clear that the alcohol was filtering out of his system.

Lindsay could smell the whiskey on his breath and shook her head again as she sat down on the edge of the couch cushion. "Jackass doesn't even begin to describe it," she muttered covering her face with her hand and rubbing her eyes. This was giving her a headache. Yes, she felt bad for him falling down at her feet, but she also felt angry that he'd come to her place so drunk he could barely stand. 'God, I hope the neighbors didn't see him,' she dreaded.

"What I did was wrong," Danny tried to apologize, but she cut him off.

"What you did is inexcusable," Lindsay interjected looking straight at him. Danny's eyes opened, baby blue streaked with red from exhaustion, and he stared at her as if wounded by her words. Lindsay almost regretted what she'd said. That look pierced through her heart right into her soul, but it didn't get past her anger. "Go to sleep, Danny," she said. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when you're sober."

"Sober, you got it," he replied giving her one of his trademark grins before she stood up and headed to her bedroom without so much as a glance back at him. Lindsay thought she was immune to them, but quickly realized that every time he gave her one of those smiles, she'd go weak in the knees. Cursing herself for being such a love struck puppy, she dove into her bed and curled up beneath the warm sheets wanting nothing more than a good night's rest. Unfortunately her worried mind would keep her awake until morning, tossing and turning, wondering why Danny was acting so strange and what he needed to talk to her about so badly.

Sleeping off a night of heavy drinking had never been a problem for Danny Messer, but waking up too early and with a nasty hangover had. And that's exactly what happened this morning as the sun's bright rays streamed in through the curtain-less windows straight onto his face. He grumbled and tried to use his arm to shield the sun from his eyes, but his still tender nose quickly protested. That's when Danny remembered his sudden urge to go talk to Lindsay and ending up doing a face plant onto her floor, nearly breaking his nose in the process. He cringed, his idiocy replaying in his mind like a bad comedy where he was the star.

Gingerly, Danny sat up and glanced around the living room. He'd been there so many times, but had never really gotten a good look at the place. It was half as girly as he'd expected it to be. There was more black and white than pink and blue. Her walls were particularly bare, a stark contrast to his apartment, which was almost packed to the brim with local artwork. Only a few photos of her family back in Montana and a "Gone With The Wind" poster hung around the room. There was a stark 80's style glass coffee table in front of him, with a matching end table to his left. The couch itself seemed to be ripped out of an 80's era comedy, but it had that homely feel. Aside from that, the rest of the room contained nothing more than a flat panel TV and a DVD player piled high with old movies.

Danny finally stood up, but his head quickly began to protest. The pounding headache was enough to make him stop for a moment, close his eyes, and take a deep breath. Reaching equilibrium, he opened his eyes again and started to make his way towards her bedroom only to stop again, this time from what he saw as he walked behind the couch.

Lindsay sat on the cold hardwood floor, her legs crossed Indian style, with his guitar case wide open, its contents spread out in front of her. Having been unable to sleep, she woke up earlier than intended and wandered into the kitchen to get a warm glass of milk before trying to go back to bed again. That's when she discovered the guitar case beside the door, something she'd completely missed the night before when Danny had first arrived. She'd been too angry and too focused on his wellbeing to notice it, but now that she had, it sparked her curiosity.

Walking over, Lindsay picked up the case and realized it didn't contain a guitar. This piqued her interest even more, prompting her to sit down behind the couch and take a peek inside. Setting it in front of her, she unlatched the clasps and pulled open the lid to find it empty, just as she'd assumed. Lindsay pursed her lips and scratched her head. For a moment, she thought Danny had gone crazy, but just as she was about to close the case, something caught her eye.

At the very tip of where the headstock sat was a little piece of black fabric hand-sewn into the red velour lining. Lindsay grabbed the fabric and pulled, discovering that it brought the entire lining out of the case and revealed the contents beneath. Her eyes immediately widened when she saw the cornucopia of mementos that lay inside; old photos, books, sheet music, and, amid the mass of dried flower petals and God knew what else, a tattered and torn copy of Romeo and Juliet. It was the first thing Lindsay took out and had a good look at.

She turned it over and over in her hands, her fingers running over the worn, ripped cover. This book had seen better days, but it had also been cherished. Just as she was about to open it to a bookmarked page, she heard Danny clear his throat behind her and immediately jerked her head towards him. There was a blank expression on his face. Feeling guilty, she put the book down and bit her lower lip, but she quickly reminded herself that he'd barged into her apartment the night before; therefore she had every right to look at his stuff. Just as she was about to lay into him for his antics, Danny made his way behind the couch and sat down across from her in front of the open case. He picked up the copy of Romeo and Juliet she'd been holding, flipped it open to the bookmarked page, and began to read aloud:

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!

What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for that name which is no part of thee

Take all myself.

Lindsay sat mesmerized. She'd never heard Danny read poetry and instantly fell under his spell, all anger lost and forgotten. His voice carried such pain as he read the passage that she almost wanted to cry. Never in her life had Lindsay felt this way. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and kiss away his pain, but knew that he needed his space right now. Whatever was bothering him would soon show itself. She wasn't about to interrupt unless prompted to.

The rustle of pages turning rang clear in her ears as she wanted for him to find what he was looking for. At the very back of the book, Danny found what he was looking for and continued to read, except this time it wasn't a passage from the play.

My Dearest Love,

I know I told you I was going on vacation for a little while, and that I'd be back soon enough, but I lied… Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I'm not in Sicily enjoying my grandma's cannolies. I'm in Rochester, Minnesota in a hospital room trying to fight leukaemia.

My Dearest Love,

My heart aches every moment we spend apart. I feel it slowly being ripped out of my chest with each day that passes. My father calls it puppy love and tells me that I'll get over it, but I know I won't. You completed my world. You were my other half. I'd rather die than suffer this way. Why, oh, why must you be a cop's son? Why must I be a mobster's daughter? Are we two star crossed lovers, destined to die for one another, like a modern day Romeo and Juliet? I should hope not, because I would like nothing more than to start a life with you. If only there was a way for me to escape this life, escape my father, I would do it in a heartbeat. But with guards stationed at my door and all around the property, I know my escape would probably cause more harm than good.

Oh, my dear sweet Romeo, I cry at night for there is no place I would rather be than in your arms. I miss your smile and the sparkle in your beautiful eyes when you laugh. I miss the softness of your lips every time we kissed. I miss the touch of your hand against my face and the way you wiped my tears away when I cried. I dream of you at night and hope that someday soon, I will finally be able to leave this place and be with you. Until then, my letters will have to suffice. I wait to hear from you.

Your Juliet,

Amie

When Danny looked up, there were tears in his eyes. His voice had cracked several times as he read the letter, having never intended to read it again. Lindsay felt every ounce of his heartache. It seemed to permeate the room. And although she was envious of this woman who had clearly stolen his heart many years ago, she tried her best to hide it, but he could see it clear as day written all over her face.

"Please, Lindsay, just listen," Danny begged. "You need to hear this. I've never told anyone this story before, so bare with me. I want you to understand why I acted so stupid yesterday. It's not because I don't want you to know who Amie is, but because…" He paused for a moment, looking for the right words as he wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. "It hurts to talk about her. She was… the first woman I ever… loved."

Lindsay pursed her lips, growing ever more confused and angry. Why the hell was he telling her this? Why did he want her to know? Didn't he realize this was making her feel like she was in second place? She looked away, unable to face him right now as a tear came to her eyes.

"Lindsay… c'mon, don't do this," Danny pleaded, reaching out and putting his hand over hers. "It's not like that…"

"Then what's it like, Danny? Why are you telling me this now? Why couldn't you just tell me before?" Lindsay nearly cried, but somehow managed to hold back the tears even though they stung her eyes. She pulled her hand out from under his and folded her arms over her chest. "Don't you trust me, Danny?"

"I do trust you, Lindsay," he calmly replied. "I'm just… scared."

"What do you have to be so scared of?" she harshly retorted.

"I'm scared of losing you the way I lost her," Danny softly answered.

"How did you lose her?" Lindsay shot back. "Fighting over stupid shit like this?"

"No," Danny mumbled. She glanced over in his direction and realized just how big of a mistake she'd made by saying that. The pain radiated from those sapphire eyes, slapping her square in the face. Lindsay dropped the defensive stance and straightened up a bit. She was ready to apologize when he raised his hand to stop her. "Don't say it. Not yet. Just let me tell you what I have to tell you, and then we can both say we're sorry."

Lindsay nodded, allowing him to grant her a tiny smile before throwing himself head first into a dark and almost forgotten past, a past filled with love and pain, happiness and regret. This had been Danny Messer's secret for the last eleven years, and now it would be Lindsay's too.