Mac looked through the mirror glass of the interrogation room at the man inside. His hair was long and straggly, his beard was grey and thick. His eyes were sunken and cold, the fear this man once shined has now faded into a sad and pathetic creature which could easily be mistaken for a homeless man. Taking a deep breath, he decided now was as good a time as any to start the interview he had waited his whole career to dread.

"We have a lot to catch up on, Mr. Harris." Mac said as he entered the small interrogation room, with his files in hand.

"Is that right? How's the family?" Derek answered with a laugh. Mac sat down across from him, taking his time as he opened the file folder before him.

"Not good. They're not good." Mac folding his hands in front of himself and looked up at the old man before him. "Where have you been the last four and half months while you've been avoiding the law?"

"If you want an honest answer," He sucked air through his nose, letting out a disgusting snort as he did so. "I, Detective, have doing some reading. From what I have 'read' I can see you've done a fine job taking down Judge Marshal and all of his accomplices. I thank you." Derek smiled crookedly.

"You think I did that for you?" Mac looked disgusted by him.

"No, not for me. No, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it. But you could say I help quite a bit, I do however think you did it for Danny." He said slamming his hands on the metal desk before him.

"I don't fight injustice with injustice. Unlike you, I am not a cold blooded murder. I took down James Marshal the same way Danny would have; I did it with honor." He explained slowly.

"Honor. Pfft!" He snorted at the word. "No one knows what honor means anymore. You, you cops walking around with your badges! You think that's honor! No, you are mistaken my friend. It is a pay check! That's all. You go to work you do a job and you leave. You cash your checks and move on! No one cares about the little guy, Huh? What about my son? Where was his honor?" He ranted, he smelled of booze. Mac took a second before responding, he looked at the broken man before him. He had lost everything and had given up what he had left for justice of his son's demise.

"What about Danny? Where's his honor?" Mac said with sadness in his tone.

"He got what he asked for." He dropped his head low.

"He didn't ask to shot in the chest. He didn't ask to be tortured. You did this to him. You did, not him." Mac said.

"I can't change what happened. I don't know if I would if I could, but the one thing I will always take with me, is the fact that that kid had an attitude on him. He was one cocky little son-of-a-bitch and he got what was coming to him." Derek spit in anger.

"Is that right?" Mac said calmly.

"Yeah. That's right." He said folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his stiff chair.

No longer able to stare at Derek, Mac stood up and walked to the door. "As a human being, Mr. Harris I hope you burn in hell." Mac said with a venomous tone before leaving the room shutting the door behind himself.

Derek sat in anger for a minute, collecting himself. Standing up he began pacing around the room, his body was racked with fear, his muscles hurt from months of alcohol abuse. He wanted out. He used to believe that when this had started that he was doing the right thing, that in the end his son would be saved and justice would be served. Never did he think he would be on the edge of death by way of needle, counting the seconds before the axe was dropped. Hearing the door open once again, he turned towards the door looking for who was next to strong hand him, only to find shock.

"No, this can't be." He said as his knees got weak. "No, what's going on here?" Derek demanded as he yelled at the mirror, hoping for an answer. Turning back to the man in front of him her yelled, "You're dead!"

Danny slowly walked into the room, his jeans were dark denim, his white t-shirt crisp, and his old leather jacket stiff with old wrinkles. Smiling at his once terrifying capture, he smiled.

"Guess not."

Flashback...

The salt on his tongue was thick as he felt his fingers along the rim of his lip, moving his way up his cheek he found stitches under his both of his eyes. Her felt battered and broken, every ripple of a muscle sent shock waves over him body. He tried to speak but it only came out as scratching sound as panic took over.

"Help..." He said in barely a whisper as the air tore his airway to shreds, the sound of his own voice felt foreign. "Help!" He said again this time a little louder. Someone was suddenly squeezing his hand, letting Danny know that they were there.

"Danny?" He heard the voice, but it sounded like it was through a can. It was mashed and nothing was making sense, his vision was blurry. His glasses were missing. He could hear a beep that was speeding up by the second. "Danny, calm down. We got you buddy, it's alright." He felt someone else there, squeezing his hands. "Lindsay, go find a nurse." The sound and lights were exhausting, he could feel his body shaking as he tried desperately to gain control.

The figure above slowly came into focus as his friend stood above him, speaking slowly. "Danny, it's alright man, you're in the hospital. The Doctor is coming, just relax." He cooed.

"Don?" His voice was barely audible, it hurt him to speak. Everything hurt.

"It's me buddy, you've been kind of out of it. Don't try and talk yet, Lindsay is getting some help." He held his hand until Lindsay returned.

"Danny, it's Linds. Can you hear me?" She asked as she hovered above his frail form.

"Lindsay?" He said with a weak smile as a Doctor came into his line of vision.

"Mr. Messer, I've been waiting a long time to meet you." He said, through his daze, panic took over.

"No! No, get him away from me!" Danny began to shake, pushing the Doctor away. Letting go of Lindsay's hand he began to thrash, trying desperately to get away.

"Danny! Danny stop, it's OK!" Flack said as he moved to hold Danny down.

"No! It's him, it's him! Get him away from me!" His breathing was heavy, his heart rate was climbing.

"He needs to calm down, he's just had open heart surgery!" The Doctor called as a nurse came to his aid.

"It's alright, I've got it." Flack said as he forced Danny to look at him. "You are safe, it's not him. It's going to be OK." He said calmly, nothing he could do could stop his heart rate from climbing.

"That's it. I want four of Haldol." He said as a nurse handed him a syringe full of drugs. "This will help you relax Mr. Messer!" He called as he put the needle into his I.V.

"No! No, please just leave me alone. Leave me alone." He said softly as he began to fall asleep once again.

"Hey Doc, Can I talk to you?" Flack said as he the Doctor began to leave.

"What can I do for you?" He said taking his gloves off.

"Call me Don, Doctor?" He asked.

"Dr. Appleton." He corrected.

"Dr. Appleton, I just want to make sure that no one knows about this. There are only eight people who know he made it to the hospital, and only five that know he is alive. Until we find the man that organized this we need to keep this as quiet as possible." Don explained.

"No I understand, his hospital records are showing him under a different name and only three nurses work on him regularly. You have my full cooperation. Any human being that can do that much damage to one person deserves to be brought to justice. You have my word. I will do what I can to protect him." Dr. Appleton smiled.

"Thank you." He said shaking his hand. "Oh another thing, he'll probably respond better if you call him Danny."

"Sure thing." He smiled before turning and walking away.

"This can't be, you're dead. I killed you." Derek yelled as he paced back and forth.

"Or so you thought." Danny corrected him. Taking a step forward he pulled the metal chair out from the table and sat down. "Have a seat Derek, we have some catching up to do." He smiled.

Derek looked around the room, through the mirror glass, hoping he was dreaming. Looking back at Danny, he shook as Danny relaxed into the chair and folding his hands neatly on the table before him.

"I said, take a seat." Danny repeated this time a little louder.

"What do you want?" Derek said as he slowly and cautiously sat down in front of him.

"Me? I don't want anything from you, I just had to see the look on your face when I told you that you have a bad shot." Danny smiled at him.

"They said you were dead. They said you bled out in the ambulance, that you didn't even make it to the hospital?" He questioned as he sat across from his once victim.

"Nah, that's just what we told the media. Although I did bleed out, I lost thirty percent of my title volume before I got to the hospital, took a lot of blood and a lot of surgery to get me stable. But like you said, no one cares about one NYPD cop... that is, until they die. More people would be looking for a murderer then some psycho who gets off on breaking cheek bones. It's funny what fear can do to some people." His smile slowly disappeared.

"I don't have anything to say to you." Derek said, suddenly full of courage.

"Oh you don't have to say anything." Danny paused to take a breath. "You just have to listen. You are already going to jail for a very long time; I want you to see what you've done to me." His voice was strong but on the verge of getting weaker, he tried to fight it but it was becoming to hard.

"I don't have to listen to a dead man!" Derek said leaning forward and spitting at Danny.

"You're right." He said, wiping the spit from his face. "You don't have to listen, but you have the next twenty-five years of your life to listen, that is if you make it twenty-five more years, so you've got nothing but time. I hope you think about that while you are sitting in your four by six cell."

"Oh, don't you worry about me!" Derek smiled. Taking a second Danny sized him up, he knew it was an act. All of it, this man was not the same person who destroyed him, it was not the menacing man that held him captive. He was nothing.

"I'm not worried about you. I could care less what happens to you once you leave this room. You can throw on the tough guy routine but I know why you drink yourself stupid. I know why you can't look into the mirror to shave your face. I know why you haven't slept in months. It's because you hate the fact that both of your kids lives are ruined because they have a dead beat father." Danny leaned forward to get a better look at him.

"Shut your mouth, boy." He said through grinding teeth.

"You know when I was laying on my back, my lungs filling with blood from the bullet you drove through my chest. Coughing and choking, praying for death to end my suffering; the only thing I could think about was much pain the people around me would be in to find out I died alone and for no reason. My parents, my friends... they would all suffer because of what you did to me. When I finally woke up, I wanted to die. Every bone and muscle in my body was aching, bruised, broken. My chest was held together with wire, and to think, I was the lucky one. It's shocking." His voice shook with confidence.

"Why are you telling me this? Does it make you feel good? We both won, what difference does it make?" Derek said, no longer able to look Danny in the eye.

"We've both won?" His anger rose. "How the fuck do you think we've won?"

"You're alive, my boy is out of jail. The bad man in jail. What difference does it make?" He turned to Danny.

Without saying a word Danny stood up and took his jacket off, placing it on the chair behind him. Pulling his white shirt up revealing his chest, Derek flinched.

"How do you think I've won?" Danny asked, showing him the seven inch scar in the middle of his chest, as well as the large gash above his hip bone, and another incision below his rib cage. "They had to open my chest in the Emergency Room to close the hole you put in my heart. I was in a coma for two weeks, when I woke up, I was so messed up they had to knock me out for a week until my breast bone healed together for fear I could further injure myself." Danny said dropping his shirt and leaning forward on the table. "I had to learn how to walk again, I have to tell my family that I'm not dead. So tell me Derek, how have I won?" Tears filled his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

Derek sat staring at the man whose life he had destroyed. His body was shaking with guilt, he had no idea what he had done until now. Stuttering he looked Danny in the eye and found his voice.

"I... I'm sorry." His voice broke as tears rolled down his cheek.

"No." Danny said standing up straight. "No, you're not. But you will be." He finished as he took his coat from the back of the chair and walked to the door, slowly turning the handle he looked back at the man in the room. He could only think of one thing left to say to him. "Good bye Derek." He said as he left the room.

Hey guys, you know I had no intentions of killing Danny right? He's the best! This has been mapped out since the beginning but that you all for the reviews, good to know where I stand on the murder of Danny. One more chapter to go! So give me some reviews!!