Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from CSI: NY. If I did, then I would be putting this in the show!!! Hope y'all enjoy! Spoilers for Season 3…

AN: Okay...So here is the long awaited 2nd shot of "With Friends Like These". I was going back through my stories and realized that I needed to write this before the new season starts and since my muse is on crack and full of ideas...it just flowed!!! Please R&R...If you leave a signed review, I will definitely respond back!!!

Who needs Enemies?

After Stella and Lindsay's conversation, Stella decided to keep an eye out for the younger woman. She knew that Lindsay was dealing with her own issues and it bugged her that she would not confide in her.

She had taken Lindsay's advice and called her therapist, Dr. Malone. The woman was extremely nice and had helped Stella deal with her PTSD. That aside, Stella was growing increasingly worried at her erratic behavior.

Finally, she decided to try to talk to her about it. She was the one who decided to pick her up from the hospital after she had been bitten by the snake. "Hey, Linds," she greeted her.

Lindsay smiled softly. "Hey, Stel. I really could have made it home on my own."

Stella smiled. "Really. It's not a problem. I've never been bitten by a snake, but it just seems…"

Lindsay shook her head. "It's not bad. I've been bitten a couple of times. Hazards of growing up on a ranch."

Stella sensed the opening and leapt at it, like a lioness after a gazelle. "So…what was it like growing up on a ranch?"

Lindsay raised her eyebrows. "Busy. Dad always made us do chores before school, so I was usually up by four. I will give him this. He never relegated me to the kitchen for 'woman's' work. He taught me how to ride, braid leather."

Stella nodded, trying to get find a way to transition into what was bothering her. Taking a guess, she asked, "Is he still alive?"

Lindsay nodded. "Yup. Both him and Mom are still working the ranch with my two oldest brothers, Alex and John."

"What did he think of you moving away?"

Lindsay's face clouded over. "He wasn't happy, but he understood."

"Why did you move away?"

Lindsay bit her lip. "I don't want to talk about it."

Stella looked at her. "Look, Linds. It's clear that something is bothering you. Why won't you let anyone in?"

Lindsay felt her anger grow. "Look, Stella. Just let it go," she replied waspishly as she stormed away.

Stella watched her walk away, feeling angry at her denial. Sighing in defeat, she turned and walked away.

A couple of weeks later, Stella had enough. Seething in anger, she sought out Lindsay, who had left a crime scene. When she finally cornered her, she was done playing nice. "Look, Lindsay. I don't know what your issues are, but as your superior, I'm done making allowances. You ever do that again, I'll put you on report. As a friend, I am more than ready to be a shoulder you can cry on, but when you're here, I need you here completely. Leave your issues at home."

Lindsay, with tears shining in her eyes, just nodded as she walked off.

Stella was surprised by a knock on her office door, late that night. She looked up in surprise to see Lindsay standing there. "Lindsay?"

The younger woman looked at her, with tears shining in her eyes. "Stel? I need a friend."

Stella nodded and quickly turned to shut down her computer. "Let's go to my place."

Lindsay nodded and was silent on the ride. When they got there, Stella made some tea and they sat on the couch.

"Linds? What's going on?"

Lindsay drew in a shuddering breath. "When I was fourteen, I was the sole survivor of a…massacre is the best word to describe it."

Stella felt her heart drop. "Oh God. What happened?"

Lindsay closed her eyes, the memories from that day washing over her. "My friends and I were at the diner. It was summer vacation and it was the last time that we would all be together. We were all going different places. It was close to closing and I had to go to the bathroom. When I was washing my hands, I heard someone walk in. Then I heard gunshots."

Lindsay shuddered at the memory and Stella wrapped her arms around her. "Go on."

Lindsay opened her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "I froze. I remember crouching down, underneath the sink, praying to God that the shooter wouldn't hear the water running. I peeped out the door and I saw a man standing there with a shotgun. Then he left. When I heard the bell over the door ring, a felt a sense of relief wash over me. Then I walked out."

Stella stroked her hair, soothingly, knowing that she needed to let it out.

Drawing a breath, Lindsay continued, "There was blood everywhere. They were lying there, so still. I panicked. I called 911 and I don't know how the operator understood me. You know what the worst part is?"

Stella looked at her, "What?"

"My friend's mothers wanted to know why I lived. I don't know. I should have died, Stella! Why? Why did I live?" Lindsay completely broke down then, sobbing uncontrollably.

Stella looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back her tears. Oh, God. Please help me say the right thing. She looked down at the woman, knowing that anything she said at that moment would fall on deaf ears. Instead, she got Lindsay to lie on the couch and covered her with a blanket. Then, with a heavy heart, she went to bed.

The next morning, Lindsay awoke to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes, trying to figure out where she was. Her question was answered when Stella moved into her vision, holding out a cup of coffee. "Thanks," she murmured.

"You okay?"

Lindsay shrugged. "Not sure. It is good to get that off my chest, though."

Stella smiled softly. "I have one other question. Why did this come back to you?"

Lindsay stared down at her coffee. "The day after the Tiffany case, I got a call from the Bozeman DA. They arrested him. Unfortunately, since I'm the only witness, I have to testify."

"I'm sorry, but maybe this will be good for you. You can finally put the whole mess behind you. Plus, you can give your friends the peace they deserve. The bastard deserves to go to jail for what he did."

Lindsay raised her eyes to Stella. For the first time in months, she could feel that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. "Thanks, Stel." She managed a small smile as the weight on her shoulders had lessened by sharing her grief.