DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA.

Once again, thanks to everyone offering their support in the re-posting of this. I'll take it a couple chapters at a time until we get to where I left off last time. Then it's all new stuff!

Travelling the broken road

"Sunny days seem to hurt the most
I wear the pain like a heavy coat
I feel you everywhere I go
I see your smile, I see your face,
I hear you laughin' in the rain
I still can't believe you're gone
It ain't fair: you died too young,
Like the story that had just begun,
But death tore the pages all away
Lord knows how I miss you,
All the hell that I've been through,
Just knowin' no-one could take your place
And sometimes I wonder,
Who'd you be today?"
-Who'd You'd be Today, Kenny Chesney

Danny Messer hadn't slept in nearly thirty-six hours.

More out of necessity than desire. The truth of the matter was, he'd been dead on his feet after the first eighteen. Dragging himself around the lab like a zombie. His feet shuffling and his limbs feeling like ten tons weights as he attempted to throw his all into his work. Yawning incessantly and barely able to keep his eyes open, he'd sustained himself on nothing but an endless supply of cups of black coffee and short naps on the couch in the office he shared with Doctor Sheldon Hawkes. He had been at his locker after his scheduled eight hour shift had come to an end, pulling on his jacket and looking forward to attending to some errands, when Mac had come looking for him. Desperately needing assistance, and cooperation, after a call came through about a home invasion turned quadruple homicide in Staten Island.

Danny couldn't, say no to Mac Taylor. Not after the years of mutual respect, loyalty, and as of late, friendship, that the two men had shared. Mac, while managing to main his tough as nails, hard ass, 'don't fuck with me' personna, had always had Danny's back. Over the length of his career within the crime lab, it pained, and embarrassed Danny to admit that there'd been many a time he'd needed Mac and his solid, unwavering support. He had been a self admitted monumental pain in his boss' ass. But Mac had always stuck by him. Even if Mac did doll out punishment or a tongue lashing in the process.

He also couldn't say no because of his own personal work ethic. He couldn't in good faith, walk out of the lab knowing that he was leaving the rest of the team -who'd already rolled up their sleeves and set to work- in a lurch. His conscience simply wouldn't let him rest if he left his closest friends, whom he considered family, up shit creek without a paddle. Mac was genuinely in need. He was already done one investigator. Samantha had left for maternity leave at the end of her seventh month. Despite already far surpassing the two months of sick leave and the six weeks she was allotted following her son's birth, she'd yet to come back. Danny personally didn't think she ever would return.

While she'd never actually come right and told him that she had no plans on ever setting foot in the lab again, he'd spent enough time with her in the past year -nearly every waking moment to be exact-to know that going back to work would only torture her more. There were a lot of memories there. Some bad. Most good. But he knew after Flack and Lindsay had died, that Sam had had difficult time being at work. That she saw them wherever she went. Heard their voices in the different labs and in the hallways. Naturally, her grief for her husband was greater than that for her best friend. Both were unbearable in their own right. But the death of the love of her life, the father of her unborn child, had nearly destroyed her. It still threatened to break her, even on the best of days. And going back to the lab, to drown in a sea of memories and despair, was nothing short of inhumane. She'd been off for a month after the crash and when she had returned, she had never been the same.

The team missed her. They knew that Danny spent whatever time he could with her and the baby and they asked about her all the time. They rarely asked him about himself. Only because they knew they wouldn't get an answer. That he'd shrug and enforce that he was fine and either change the subject or go back to whatever he was doing. He didn't mind one bit that they didn't press him to talk about how he was feeling. Danny Messer dealt with grief in his own, introverted style. He was notoriously closed off when it came to personal trauma and he had no plans on changing his practices. So instead he answered their questions about Sam and the baby, all the while silently screaming at them to get off their asses and either call her or head to Queens and physically check on her. He understood that most didn't know what to say. They knew she was suffering and didn't want to make things worse on her. But others stayed away because they felt she was grieving too long and too hard. That she needed to stop clinging to her husband's memory as desperately as she was.

That she needed to move on.

Danny in turn, told those people to do two thing. The first was to put themselves in her shoes. Her husband of less than a year was gone. Obliterated. Nothing had ever been found of Flack. Not a strand of hair, not a shred of skin or so much as a tooth. Gone. There were no remains. No grave to visit and place flowers upon. His resting place -along with two hundred and sixty one other people- was that field in Virginia. He had left her while she was newly pregnant with their first child. He'd never see or hold his son. The baby would never know his father. And that alone was tragic.

The second thing he told them, in true Danny Messer style, was to fuck off and mind their own business.

As he sat on his fire escape at seven thirty in the morning, chain smoking and drinking coffee out of a chipped ceramic mug, he thought about the plane crash that claimed the lives of his future wife and his best friend a year ago. In all intents and purposes, Danny Messer had been one of the lucky ones. In a strikingly morbid way. While Samantha Flack and countless other family members never received the closure that the discovery of remains gave to them, he had been given something of Lindsay's. Two things, actually. Found among the charred, disintegrated remains of the jet liner and body parts, her DNA had successfully been matched to a badly burned, severed right baby finger and several shards of bone that had one been part of her left femur.

He could still remember, in vivid detail, being escorted down to the ME's office by Mac, and standing along side of an empty autopsy table. Across from which stood a member of the National Transportation and Safety Board and a pale and grief stricken Sid Hammerback. It had been Sid, who through a flow of unabashed tears, who'd handed him those small plastic jars with those 'items' inside and then explained, as best as he could managed, how the remains had been found and matched to a DNA sample that Danny had sent to the Virginia Medical Examiners Office. Following the crash, family members had been asked to send in something of their loved ones for comparison purposes. Danny had sent in a clump of hair from Lindsay's brush. Sam had sent in Flack's spare toothbrush from his work locker. Danny could still see her as she sealed the plastic baggy with that tooth brush in it. Her hands trembling and tears pouring down her face, outwardly begging God to please send her a sign. To help her come to turns with it. She needed to know, beyond a reasonable doubt that her husband was dead.

God had never granted her that closure.

Danny however, had taken those plastic jars in his hands and looked at them, nausea bubbling inside of him as he realized that those parts were the only things left of the woman he loved more then life itself. And he'd been filled with an incredible sense of rage and turned his angry blue eyes at the NTSB agent and Sid.

"What the fuck am I suppose to do with these?" he'd asked.

The answer in the end, had been to cremate them. And then separate what little ashes there were into two equal portions. One he'd sent to Lindsay's parents, who taken them and put them in a tiny urn normally reserved for babies, and buried them underneath a rose bush her father had planted in her memory. The other portion Danny had kept for himself. Sealing them in a plastic baggy before buying a cherry wood and pewter memory box and placing them inside.

Those ashes had remained on the night stand next to his bed for nearly six months before he finally was able to let them go. He'd taken them down to Coney Island shortly sunset and had purchased a ticket to ride the Ferris wheel. It had been a year to the day that he had proposed to Lindsay. On the exact same Ferris wheel at the exact same time of day. And the moment that the ride had reached the top and it neared the time when he'd brought out that diamond ring and asked her to be his wife, he'd opened up that plastic baggy containing his love's remains and dumped the ashes out. Letting the stiff breeze carry them on the air, as tears of sorrow spilled down his cheeks.

After that, Danny had vowed to move on with his life. Death was permanent to him. He didn't beg and pleaded to the heavens for Lindsay to come back. Because he knew no matter how loud he ranted and raved, no matter how many times he prayed, she wasn't coming back. She was gone. In a better place. The ones that truly suffered were the family and friends that were left behind to grieve. The ones that tossed and turned at night and stifled their sobs in their pillows. The ones that couldn't come to terms with what had happened. The ones that sought answers that would never come. The ones that held onto regrets instead of remembering all the amazing times they had shared with the deceased. He would always love her and miss her. There was never a doubt about that. A part of him had died with her. His hopes for the future had vanished the moment that plane had plunged out of the sky and slammed into the rock hard earth. He wouldn't be marrying her. She wouldn't be bearing him children. They wouldn't be growing old together, side by side. He would never hear her say his name again or feel the touch of her hands of smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of her hair. He'd never kiss her lips or feel her body against his again.

He had accepted that. There was no sense wishing her back. Wishes like that simply didn't come true. Instead he lightened his suffering by looking at pictures of her and watching videos they had taken of each other. He laughed along with her during the recording of her thirty-fourth birthday party when she'd a can of silly string and doused him and the camera. He smiled at her and Sam singing Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy disgustingly off key. A bottle of beer in each of their hands and tipsy smiles on their faces. He cried a little at her blowing a kiss to the camera and telling him she loved him.

But for the most part, he remembered her fondly. They had survived the harshest of odds and nasty splits. They had found deep and impenetrable love. She had practiced the art of forgiving, even if forgetting was never an option. She had taken him back after each screw up and never stopped loving him. They had shared a life. All the trials and tribulations and the happiness and sorrow that came with it.

And as long as he lived, he'd be forever grateful that God had brought her into his life.

Even if HE did take her back so violently and unexpectedly.

Danny knew, in his heart, that Lindsay wouldn't want him to be alone and miserable forever. She had told him once that if anything ever happened to her, that she wanted him to live. She wanted him to meet someone that would love him and cherish him. Someone he could give his entire heart too. Who would fill all his empty, dark days with a light and whom he'd love wholly and unconditionally. He had told her at the time, that that person was her. There was no one else on earth that he could ever feel that way about. And she'd wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly and whispered ever so gently in his ear:

"You would find her, Danny. She would find you."

He could hear those words as if it was just yesterday. He could still recall the sound of her voice and feel her soft breath against his skin. He could still feel the touch of her lips as she kissed him goodbye. See that beautiful smile as she glanced over her shoulder at him as he stood in front of their open apartment door, watching as she made her way to the elevator. Danny had no regrets about that last morning. They had spent two hours in bed enjoying each other and pleasing one another. Laughing as they rolled around in a tangled mess of sheets. Talking about their upcoming wedding and being asked to be godparents of Sam and Flack's unborn baby. Their lives were full of happiness and love. So many wonderful events that they had been looking forward to.

They had, just before she'd stepped on the elevator, told each other I love you. Then she'd blown him a kiss and disappeared from sight.

Less then four hours later, she also disappeared from his life.

As he sat enjoying the peace and quiet of the morning, that thought made Danny Messer sigh heavily and blink back tears. He took a long drag of his cigarette and attempted to wash the lump in his throat away with a swig of coffee.

It had been a year. The longest year of his life. He had lost two people that he'd loved dearly that day. His future wife and his best friend. Flack had been like a brother to him. He had loved the guy more then he'd loved members of his own family. Flack had always been there for him. No matter how deep the shit was that Danny had managed to step into. The shooting of Ronnie Minhas, his brother Louie's beating at the hands of Sonny Sassone. The disaster that was Rikki Sandoval. It had been Flack that had given him the benefit of the doubt the day Rikki had stolen his gun and went after Ollie Barnes. While others were quick to think that it was Danny himself after Barnes, Flack had stuck to his guns and did what he had to in order to uncover the truth. Danny could still see the furious and concerned look on Flack's face as they argued outside of the bail bonds place that day. He could still hear the angry, agitated tone in his best friend's voice. Flack had a way of laying a beating on you without ever resorting to anything physical. It was all in those blue eyes and the harshness of the words that tumbled out of his mouth. And although he'd acted like an ungrateful spoiled brat at the end of the day when he'd brought Rikki into the precinct, Danny would never, ever forget how much he appreciated Flack for everything he'd done.

He only wished that he could have told the man himself. That he had have went to Flack and told him exactly what that day meant to him. That he had of told his best friend how much he respected him. And loved him. Even if he did get a foul look and an "Say that again and I'll beat your ass, Messer" for his troubles.

He missed Flack. Every second of every day. He missed working cases with the big homicide detective. He missed laughing at those witty, biting one lines that seemed to roll so easily off of Flack's tongue. He missed the shared sarcasm and the way they worked so easily together. He missed seeing that shrug and hearing the infamous "Same shit, different day," answer that Flack always gave when someone asked him how work was coming along. Most of all, he missed those off the clock moments. Going out for a few beers and shooting some pool or playing darts together. Talking about everything under the sun. As long as it didn't involve work. Their favourite topics of conversation, were obviously the beautiful young women they'd managed to somehow land. Flack was a happily married man. When he talked about his wife, his entire face lit up and his blue eyes sparkled. He was in love and felt whole. His exact words. He finally had someone that made him feel complete. That made him feel as if he was the most amazing guy in the world. Who made him feel loved and respected.

Who made him want to be a better man.

And it was for Flack, and for the woman that his best friend love more then life, that Danny had vowed to make sure that Samantha and that baby were well taken care of. That they weren't scared and alone. That things were running smoothly at home. That all her bills were up to date and that there was food in the fridge and in the cupboards. He didn't want them going without. And it killed him to see how badly Samantha was coping with what had happened. She needed to be strong for herself, and for her son. She needed to come to terms with what had happened and then slowly pick up the pieces and get on with her life.

And Danny was determined to make sure that she'd do all of that and more. Because Flack had asked him, during a lull in a conversation about baseball as they sat on Flack's front porch at twilight only a month before the crash, if Danny would take care of his family should anything happen to him. Danny had been taken aback by not only the question, but at the fact that it was Flack asking something like that. Flack never dwelled on the negative aspects of the job. He knew full well that he could easily be shot or stabbed or hell, even blown up in the course of a day. That he could meet his demise while out on the street. And while he had his ducks all in a row in the form of a will and life insurance policies and a secret savings account for his wife, Flack never talked about death. Even thought he'd had his stomach blown open by a bomb. It just wasn't in his nature to mention things like that. So Danny had known right there and then, that his best friend meant business.

"I don't want her to be alone," Flack had said, staring out at the quickly darkening horizon as he sipped his beer. Behind them, the door to the house was open and they could hear their girls talking and giggling in the distance in the kitchen. "I don't want Sammie to be alone, Messer. It's important to me that she's not alone if anything ever happens to me."

"I'll make sure that she's okay," Danny had assured him. "She can come and stay with me and Montana. We could even more in here. Trust me. We'll take care of her. She won't be alone."

"She always says that she wouldn't be able to live without me," Flack had mused. "But she's an amazingly strong woman. She'd be okay. I just want to make sure that she's got people around her to help her cope. That won't let her fall to pieces. I just want her to be taken care of."

Danny had laid a hand on his best friend's shoulder and gave a confidant smile. "She'll be fine," he'd assured Flack. "I'll make sure she's fine."

That had been the end of the conversation. Lindsay had yelled to them that supper was ready and they'd simply finished off their beers and headed inside as if they'd never discussed something that serious and life altering.

But Danny had never forgotten a moment of it . And it was why he did as much as he did for Samantha. Not because he felt some sort of obligation. But because she was his friend and she was hurting. Desperately. And whatever he could do help ease the burden, he was more then willing to do.

He finished his coffee and stubbed his cigarette out on the metal steps before tossing it over the railing to the street below. He had already decided, as he dragged himself through his apartment door at three in the morning and collapsed onto the couch without even removing his shoes or clothes or even locking the door, that there was no way Samantha Flack was going to spend the anniversary of the deaths of her husband and best friend alone. That as soon as a decent, reasonable time rolled around, he was going to clean himself up and head into Queens and spend the day with her and the baby. Take her out for lunch and a walk through Central Park. See if she needed any manual labour done on the house or if she wanted him to watch the baby for a few hours while she got some rest. He'd cook them dinner and drink some wine and crash on the couch or in the spare bedroom.

Because truthfully, he didn't want to be alone either.

Danny picked up the copy of the Times that sat folded beside him on the stairs and opened it up. On the front page was an article about the anniversary of the crash and profiles of the local people who had been aboard the plane. There were four altogether. Amber Sussman, a twenty-four year old elementary school teacher from Astoria who was on her way to visit her boyfriend stationed at an army base in Virginia. Michael Jefferies, a forty-seven year old stockbroker from the upper west side of Manhattan who'd missed an earlier flight out to visit his ailing mother and had been forced to take the doomed flight.

And of course, Lindsay Monroe and Donald Flack Jr. Their deaths, as members of the NYPD, had been plastered all over every newspaper in town after the crash. Reporters for paper and television and radio had all but camped out on Danny and Sam's doorsteps waiting for some kind of reaction to the demise of their loved ones. Thankfully, Mac and Chief of Detectives Brigham Sinclair had both stepped up and became spokesmen for the two of them. Answering any questions, issuing statements, releasing photographs of their deceased loved ones.

The only time that Danny and Sam themselves had ever been photographed or featured on the news, was a month following the crash. After the cause had been determined and any search for remains had been abandoned, family members had been invited to view the area where the victims had perished. Sam and Danny had flown to Virginia together and never left each other's sides. And photos had been taken, and featured in every local paper, of them surveying the crash site through a chain link fence that the NTSB had erected during their investigation. Danny had been the stoic and emotionless one, his arm around Samantha's shoulders as she clutched a photo of her husband to her chest and tears poured down her face.

As the months went on, so did the publics fascination with what had happened. While the general population ever pushed the crash to the back of their minds or simply forgot about it, Danny Messer and Samantha Flack, along with all the others left behind, were left to deal with their grief in private. Others may have forgotten the names and the faces of those who had perished, but the ones who had loved them would never forget.

And would never be the same.

Danny bypassed the front section of the paper altogether and instead sought out the classifieds. Opening it up to the area devoted to death notices and memorials, he quickly located the ones that he and Sam, along with Lindsay's parents and Flack's mom and dad had made up and sent in just days before. The ones from both sets of parents were short and simple. Lamenting the loss of their daughter and son and telling them how much they loved them and would never forget them. Danny, although chosen something short and sweet, had placed a picture of Lindsay in the paper, along with the Italian words Io L'amero sempre. Io non La dimenticherò mai.

I will always love you. I will never forget you.

He'd also put one in for Flack. Just expressing his sorrow at the loss of his best friend. Who Danny had called, the greatest most loving man he ever knew.

Above that, was Sam's heartfelt, and heartbreaking contribution. Declaring that he was the love of her life and her best friend. Her sun and moon and stars. Her everything. And then finishing it off with a verse from the favourite Garth Brook's song, The Dance.

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above,
For a moment, all the world was right.
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye?
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance.
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd have had to miss the dance.

Danny's eyes filled with tears as he read those lyrics. And at the words: You'd be so proud of your son, that she had had added as post script.

When is this ever going to get easier? Danny thought, as he folded the newspaper and tossed it aside and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his olive green Henley shirt. When am I going to miss them as much as I do? When will the day come when I can sleep at night without dreaming about them? When I can get up in the morning and not think about them?

When I will stop being so angry and get on with my life?

Behind him, he heard the slight rustling of paper coming from the kitchen, along with a soft, lonely whimpering noise. Grabbing the pack of smokes and the lighter that sat alongside of him and his empty mug, Danny ducked underneath the ledge of the open window and climbed back into his apartment. He rinsed the mug and set it in the sink and tossed the smokes and lighter on the breakfast bar before walking over to the cardboard box that sat in the middle of the kitchen floor.

"How ya doing this morning, buddy?" he asked the eight week old Puggle puppy that took up residence in the box.

When one of the lab techs had come in a three days ago announcing that her mother's dog had puppies and they were free to good homes, Danny couldn't resist the sweet little faces when the young woman had shown him a picture she'd snapped with her Iphone. He had an excellent home in store for one of them. One where he not only be given lots of love, but give tons of it back into the home himself. So he'd gladly accepted one of the tiny beige Pug and Beagle mixed puppies and had kept it at his place until he was ready to give the thing away. His next door neighbour had been gracious enough to care for it while he worked.

Danny had grown rather attached to it, and was slightly saddened at having to give it away. But he had hope that maybe, just maybe, that little dog would bring a source of great comfort to someone who so desperately needed it.

"Come here you spoiled little brat," he said, as he reached into the box to scoop the puppy out.

He scratched its ears and under its chin and rubbed its belly. Receiving a face full of affectionate licks for his effort. He carried the dog under one arm as he went to the sink and grabbed a cereal bowl from the dish rack and filled it with cold water from the tap. Then he grabbed the box of dry kibble sitting nearby and poured it directly onto the counter and set the animal down.

"Enjoy," he said and leaned against the counter and kept a close eye on the puppy as he ate and drank enthusiastically. Smiling as the little dog paused mid meal and looked up at him and nudged his arm with his cold, wet nose. "Make sure you bring your A-game to your new home," he said with a laugh. "Guy who lived there before had absolutely no game. Time for you to set the bar high."

The puppy returned to his meal.

Time for the healing to begin, Danny thought. Hoping and praying that that tiny and innocent animal an all the love he had to give, was just the thing Samantha Flack needed to set her on the road to repair.

It was quarter to nine when Danny Messer pulled into the driveway of the modest, red brick two and a half storey home in Flushing, Queens. The black GMC Yukon had once belonged to Flack. In his will, it had stated that Danny receive the vehicle if anything ever happened to him. Danny had known nothing about it until three weeks after his death, Sam had asked him to come to the lawyer's with her for the reading of Flack's last will and testament. In it, Sam had been named executor of his estate and the sole beneficiary of his life insurance policy, pension pay out, and the savings account that he had opened the day before his wedding. Danny wasn't entirely sure how much money Samantha actually got. She didn't talk about it and he didn't ask. But he knew it was more than enough to sustain her and now their child on top of paying off the mortgage on their house and all of their outstanding death. Mixed in with the settlement that each family member of someone aboard the doomed airliner was going to be receiving in less than three months, and Danny knew that Samantha Flack probably wouldn't have to work for a long time.

If ever.

Danny and Lindsay hadn't been as lucky financially. Lindsay hadn't had a life insurance policy on herself and he wasn't entitled to her pension payout because they weren't legally married yet. Her parents received the cash and had originally threatened to take him to court over the money he was going to be receiving from the airline. He'd offered to give them half just to get them off his back. Them fighting over blood money made him sick to his stomach. There wasn't enough money in the world to help him get over the loss of his one and only true love. And if it wasn't for the fact that the cash was going to come in handy and he believe in his heart of hearts that the airline should be responsible, he would have told her parents to take it and shove it up their asses.

The gift of the SUV from his deceased best friend had shocked him more than anything. And when he'd gone to the airport parking lot -where the vehicle had sat for three weeks- he'd cried the moment he'd slipped inside. Flack was all around him. An empty coffee cup sitting in the holder between the seats, an ultrasound picture of his unborn child tucked into the corner of the sun visor. All his Cds were still in the spot where he'd left them. As was a nearly full pack of nicotine gum. Flack had vowed to kick the habit as soon as Sam found out she was expecting. In the passenger's seat was an NYPD sweatshirt that Flack had either just decided to leave there or he'd forgotten. In the back was a CCM hockey bag and two sticks and a knapsack full of clean clothes. And seeing all of Flack's things sitting there like that and knowing his best friend would never come and collect them, broke Danny's heart. He'd rested his forehead on the steering wheel and bawled like a baby for nearly an hour.

A year later, he was standing in the Flacks' driveway and pulling a small pet carrier out of the back seat. He'd stopped in at Pet Smart when he realized the cardboard box just wasn't going to cut it. He'd also bought the dog a pink leash with rhinestones that sparkled along the collar, enough food to last a few weeks, and a feeding dish and water bowl. Carrying the whimpering puppy in one hand and the shopping bag in the other, he shut the SUV door with his hip and headed up the front walk.

He frowned at the sight of the overgrown front lawn. It had been two weeks since he'd last mowed it and it was a complete disaster. He made a mental note to get to it before the day was up, and to fix the loose railing that led up the front steps. The mailbox was overflowing. Important letters and useless fliers sticking out of it and tumbling to the ground. A week's worth of newspapers were tossed on the front porch.

"Where the fuck are the in laws?" he murmured.

It made no sense why Don Flack Sr couldn't at least tend to his daughter in law once in a while. The man was in excellent shape for his age. On top of that, he and his wife Patricia, lived directly behind the home his daughter in law and infant grandson resided in. Flack Jr had even gone so far as putting a gate in the middle of the fence that separated their backyards so the two families could go back and forth easily.

Danny grabbed all of the mail and shoved it into the plastic bag he carried, then fished the house key out of the pocket of his baggy jeans. He let himself into the home, grimacing at the musty air that greeted him as he closed the door behind him.

"Sam!" he called, as he toed off his shoes. "You around?"

"I'm upstairs!" she responded. "With the baby."

"You need anything?" he asked from the bottom of the stairs.

"Uh…some juice or something to drink would be nice," she replied.

"Your wish is my command," Danny assured her, and headed through the living room and down the narrow hall towards the kitchen.

Appearances wise, Samantha seemed to be coping quite well. The house was always clean, the laundry was always done. There was always food in the fridge and cupboards. But he knew that both he and Adam had a huge part in that. And that the mother in law always made sure there was food at the ready.

"What in the hell…" Danny said aloud, when he opened the fridge door and found it completely stocked. Frowning when he realized after a quick glance, that the majority of the stuff was virtually unused and expired. Meaning either Samantha ordered in a lot, or wasn't eating well.

He suspected the latter.

He snagged a bottle of blackberry and grape flavoured vitamin water. But only after he picked up the carton of milk and took one sniff and nearly threw up at how sour it was.

This shit has got to stop, he thought with a heavy sigh, as he carried the vitamin water and the dog carrier out of the room and down the hall once more. If Samantha wasn't eating, she wasn't healthy. And if she wasn't healthy, then the baby wasn't going to be either. Plain and simple. And Danny had made a promise to Flack that he would take care of her. And goddamnit, he was not going to break it. No matter how much of a fight the stubborn little bitch put up.

"You know, Brooklyn," he said, as climbed the stairs and headed down the hall towards the nursery. "If you want me to be the chef, you're going to have to start paying me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," came the response. "I'm eating."

"Don't give me that shit," Danny said, as he laid the pet carrier down by the door and went to step into the nursery. "I know that you're not…"

All words escaped him as he took one foot into the doorway and stopped. Taken back by the beauty of the image before him. Or a mother rocking her baby as he lay snuggled close to her chest. The sunlight streaming into the room and bathing them in a ethereal glow. The natural red highlights in Sam's hair sparkling brilliantly as her dark, waist length tresses fell over her shoulders and framed her face. A peaceful, content smile on her lips as she rested her cheek on her son's head.

"Good morning, mommy," Danny greeted in a soft voice.

She looked towards the doorway and smiled. "Good morning."

He could tell, by the puffiness and redness of her eyes, that it hadn't been a good morning at all.

"How's he doing?" Danny asked in a near whisper as he tiptoed into the room.

"He's doing great," she replied, placing a tender kiss to the baby's temple and stroking his black hair. "He slept a whole six hours straight."

"He did? That's awesome," Danny praised, as he laid a gentle hand on his godson's back. "Maybe he's getting out of that every three hours thing."

"Maybe…" she said. "Or maybe it was just a fluke."

"You never know," Danny told her, and bending down, pressed his lips to the baby's forehead. Grinning at those tiny eyelids flickered open and big blue eyes looked up at him. "You little stinker," he said. "You were playing games with Uncle D, weren't ya?"

DJ gave a large, loud yawn.

"How are you doing today?" Sam asked, searching her friend's blue eyes with her golden brown ones.

Danny shrugged. "I'm alright. You?"

"It's been hard," she admitted. "I'm trying not to…" she sighed and looked down at her baby. "I'm trying to be strong for him. But I had a little break down earlier."

"That's okay," Danny assured her. "Perfectly normal. It's a year anniversary. No one said it would be easy. I was thinking that we could spend the day together? I can take you for lunch? We can all go for a walk through Central Park afterwards? Maybe take him to the zoo?"

"I don't know…" she said. "I don't really feel like going out, Danny."

"Come on. It's a beautiful day outside. Look at the sun. The bright blue sky. All those huge, puffy white clouds. It's an amazing late May day. How could you not want to go outside on a day like this?"

"The weather was exactly like this when I watched D…" she caught herself before the name could slip out. "When I watched him leave the house. I stood on the front porch and watched him walk away from me. I watched him get in the car and drive away. I watched him leave and he never came back and I…"

"And you're doing just fine," Danny told her. "And it will do you a world of good to get out. You and the little guy need to breath fresh air. Get out into the sunlight. You haven't set foot out of this house in a long while. And don't tell me you have 'cause I'll call you a damn liar, Brooklyn."

"Please don't tell me you came here to criticize me," she said, near tears.

"I would never, ever criticize you and you know that. I came to spend the day with the two of you. To be around the people I love and who love me. Trust me, Sam. It will do you some good to get out. We'll go to TGIF's. We used to go there all the time when you were working. I'll even buy you a virgin Singapore Sling. Come on. How can you resist that? I'll even spring and buy you the biggest ass chocolate sundae you've ever seen."

She smiled at that. "Okay…" she agreed reluctantly.

"How about you let me spend some time with the little guy here," Danny said, holding his hands out, an indication for her to hand him the baby. "I'll watch him and you go and get a shower and dressed and all that. Sound good?"

She nodded and passed him the infant before rising slowly to her feet.

"Come here, little Flack," Danny said as he settled his godson along his right forearm. "Uncle D hasn't seen you in a bit. How about we give mommy a little break and I get you all cleaned up and into some clothes?"

"Danny, you don't have to…"

"I want to," he interrupted Sam, smiling at her as she headed for the door.

"I was wondering if you could do something for me later," she said, her fingers curling around the door handle.

"Anything B. You know that."

"I have this wooden shelf I want to put up over DJ's crib. I want to put a picture on it. A picture of D…of his father."

"I can do that," Danny said, smiling down at his best friend's namesake and running a hand over the baby's hair. "And Sammie…" he spoke in a gentle tone. "His father had a name, you know."

"I know," she said with a heavy sigh. A sad sigh. "I just can't…I'm sorry, Danny. I just can't say his name. I know that must make me sound like a horrible person. He was my husband and I love him so much and I miss him terribly. I just can't…"

"It's okay," he assured her, giving her a tender smile. "I'm the last person you need to defend yourself to."

She returned the smile and pushed her hair behind her ears. "I'm going to go and get cleaned up. You're okay with him?"

"Am I okay with him," Danny laughed. "I am more then okay with my godson. No worries mommy. Just go and take care of yourself, a'right?"

She nodded.

"Wait!" Danny called as she went to step out of the room. "I've got a surprise for you."

"You do?"

He nodded and crossed the room. "Go out in the hall and look down," he instructed, as he stepped out of the room behind her.

"Danny…what….?" her eyes widened at the sight of the pet carrier. "Oh my God…" she breathed and dropped to her knees. "What did you do? Seriously Danny. What did you do?"

"Look inside," he chuckled.

She peered into the carrier. And for the first time in a year, a genuine smile lit up her face. "A puppy!" she cried. "You bought me a puppy!"

"It's a Puggle," he told her, as she excitedly snapped open the closures on the front door. "A pug and a beagle hooked up and that was the results. It's a girl."

"Come here, little one," she spoke to the animal in a tender voice as she reached into the carrier and pulled the puppy out. "Aren't you just the sweetest little thing!" she exclaimed, cradling the dog in her arms as she sat back on her heels. "Danny! I can't believe you did this! She's precious! I love her! Thank you!"

"Don't mention it," he said, and then laughed as the puppy bathed Sam's face in kisses. Bringing forth that musical giggle that no one had heard from Samantha Flack in a long time. Tears welled in Danny's eyes at the sight of her so happy. "Now you just need to think of a name for her," he said.

"I don't need to think of a name," Sam told him, stroking the puppy's fur. "I have the perfect one already picked up. One that means so much to me."

"What are you going to call her?" he asked. Anxious to hear the answer.

Sam smiled brightly and held the puppy out at arm's length.

"Welcome to my little family, Montana," she said.

Thanks to everyone that reviewed the first chapter (some of you doing so for a second time) and put it on their faves and alerts! I hope to hear from all of you again! This story is my side project at the moment and I have huge plans for it and I hope you guys all stick around to see what those plans are! So please, please, please R and R folks! Makes my day!