Author's Note: Meh, I'm not really all that happy about this chapter. But when I started writing this I vowed to do everyone's reactions, in first person, and I'm going to. Not entirely sure I did them justice though. Oh and I apologize to all those that were confused by my last chapter. Lindsay, Hawkes, and Adam are the narrators in this chapter. Flack and Stella's thoughts should be up soon.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, wish I did.
I told Stella I was on my way home, just so she wouldn't worry. And part of it was true, now that Danny's parents were here, I felt odd being in the room with them. I'll go home soon, but I can't stop watching him through the door. It should be me lying there in that hospital bed, not him. He took my shift, and because of it he received a beating that's left him fighting for his life. My gaze has attracted someone else in the room though, and soon Danny's mom is standing in front of me.
"So you're the Montana girl we've heard so much about huh?" I can't help but smile, Danny obviously got his tact from his mother. There's nothing judging in her tone, actually she sounds amused. Apparently he's talked about me to his parents; I'm worried about exactly what they've heard.
"Yes ma'am, I am." That was all I wanted to say, but guilt has an odd way of changing things. "Mrs. Messer, I'm really sorry about what happened. Danny took my shift; it was supposed to be me in that warehouse not him. I don't blame you if you accuse me of this, it's my fault." With my impromptu confession ringing in my ears, I turn to leave hoping to salvage some of my pride.
A hand on my arm stops me. "Lindsay, I don't blame you for what happened to my boy, and you shouldn't either. Because I know if it had been you in the warehouse, Daniel would have driven himself crazy with guilt, worse than what you're doing now." She gives me a kind smile, and I give her a weak one in return. "Go on home; I know you've had a rough day. As I said, I'll call you if anything changes." Knowing it will be pointless to argue I nod, glancing one last time at Danny before I leave. Once on the street I hail a cab, giving the driver my address as I climb in. The ride is quiet, traffic almost non-existent at this late hour. I'm grateful for the calm, allowing my semi-fried brain to process the day's events.
After Peyton and Sid told me about the situation at the warehouse, I jumped into a car without a thought. At that time no one had known that the lab was under attack as well. Stella and Hawkes had filled me in as we waited. I can't believe they defeated such a well planned out robbery. And with no casualties. Well, almost none. According to Stella, parts of the lab are missing completely, while others are badly damaged. I have a feeling it will be sometime before everything is replaced.
Mac leaving so abruptly surprised me, so much that I thought they were joking. Until Flack's angry outburst and Stella's tired answer brought reality crashing down. He must be really serious about Peyton then if he's willing to leave the lab in such a mess to go on vacation. Danny told me once that Mac had missed 5 days of work in the seven years he's been running the crime lab. Now ten more days will be added to that five. Suddenly all the anger I'd been feeling towards Danny for taking my shift is directed at Mac. How dare he leave us all in this?
By now I realize the cab has stopped. I pay the driver and get out, slowly making my way up to my apartment. My thoughts turn to my earlier outburst. The lab is destroyed, and what does Mac do? Drops the situation in his partner's lap and jets off to England with his girlfriend. I have nothing against Dr. Driscoll; in fact I rather like her. Or I did, before all this. I know it's wrong but I partially blame her for all this.
A tired sigh escapes my lips as I enter my flat and I make no move to stop it. My mama once told me that there was no use getting worked up if you couldn't do anything about it. For the first time since I moved to New York, I'm glad that Montana is in a different time zone. It's after midnight here, but only after ten there. As I dial the familiar number I trade my work clothes for a t-shirt, climbing into bed as the line connects. "Hey mama. No everything's not okay, and I could really use some advice…"
Adam and I don't talk as we leave the hospital. It's only after we're in the car that I break the silence. "Your place or mine?" The question does its job and I'm rewarded with a small chuckle from the man beside me.
"Your place would probably be better, mine's kinda a mess. And I don't have anywhere for you to sleep. All I've got is a couch." He replies, ducking his head in embarrassment.
I hadn't thought of that, assuming he would have a bed for him and a couch for me. Pulling out into traffic I head for his flat first, allowing him to pick up some essentials before going home. Once there I pull the couch out into a bed and make it up. "Bathroom is down the hall, first door on the left. You're welcome to anything, just let me know if there's something you want." Slowly I see him nod, eyes darting around the room. Automatically I realize he's checking to make sure nothings there. It angers me that this has happened, and especially to him. We've only worked on a few cases together, but I've gotten to know him pretty well.
"Thanks Doc, but right now I just wanna get some sleep. Long day ya know?" Now it's my turn to nod
"Alright. Like I said, you're welcome to anything here. Make yourself at home; I'll see you in the morning. Call if you need anything." I say, heading off towards my own room. It's not going to be an easy night for either of us, and I doubt Adam will get any sleep at all. After changing into my sleep pants, I head to the kitchen under the guise of getting a glass of water. In reality I'm checking up on Adam, and see that he's already in bed, snoring softly. There's a glass on the end table, along with medicine bottles. I'm glad to see he's taking his pills. Apparently one is to help him sleep, seeing as he's already out. Hopefully he stays that way, as he said; it's been a long day. For all of us, but him and Danny especially. I finish my drink and quietly head back to my room. Originally I had thought that sleep would evade me, given the adrenaline I'd been running on all day. But I am grateful when my eyes close almost instantly as I lay down.
As Hawkes goes to his room, I quickly change into my pajamas and grab a glass of water from the kitchen. Reviewing the medicines given to me by the hospital, I take the ones I'm supposed to and crawl into bed. Footsteps in the hall signal the doc is coming back down the hall. Rolling over I burrow under the sheets and pretend to be asleep. I know he's worried about me, but I'm not that bad, not compared to what happened to Danny. He leaves and I roll to my back with a sigh, wondering how the lab is.
The nurses were gossiping about an explosion at the crime lab, and I want to know just how much was damaged. Some were even saying that Detective Taylor was the one who created and detonated the bomb. There's no way Mac would endanger the lab like that, unless something big was happening. And I'll believe he didn't do it until I see evidence that he did. It still doesn't explain why he wasn't at the hospital with the others, though gossip has given me a lead on that too. Apparently after blowing up the lab, he left on vacation with his girlfriend. Again, I can't believe Mac would do that, create such a mess then just leave it.
It seems one of my meds is a sleep aid, because suddenly my mind goes blank as everything goes black. With the last of my consciousness I pray for a dreamless night, but I know it's not true.
Hours later I wake up in a cold sweat, bolting up in bed. Around me the sheets are tangled, some completely on the floor. It takes me a moment to remember that I'm in Hawkes' apartment, not my own. Snippets of my nightmare flood my mind as I look around for a clock. There's one on the mantel, mockingly announcing it's after five in the morning. I listen for a sound that I've woken my roommate, but quiet surrounds me. That's one thing I've gotten good at, not making a sound, no matter what dream I'm having. Dad was a bully, and didn't like it when his sleep was disturbed, for whatever reason.
I know I'm probably not going to get much more sleep, but I lie back down and try. Tomorrow I'll ask Hawkes what happened, and if we can visit the lab. If what I've heard is the truth, then I want to see it for myself.
Let me know what needs to be fixed!