A/N: Oh. My. God. What the hell?

I know that's probably what you're all thinking. And I can't say that I blame you. After months of letting this story sit idly on a dusty shelf, we have two updates in as many days?

I told you I was feeling inspired!

Thanks to all who have already left a review for the last chapter. I was pleased to see that there are still a few of you following this story and even more pleased to see such a positive reaction for my first chapter in a long, long while. You guys… well, you're just awesome.

Anywho, on to the important stuff; I warned you last chapter that although things were looking up, the drama was certainly not over. Now begins the long and painful road to recovery.

When Lindsay had first arrived at the hospital, her doctor's first priority had been to stabilize her condition. It was only after she was satisfied with her patient's vital signs and confident that she was no longer in imminent danger that Dr. Reynolds had allowed the forensic nurse and a member of the NYPD to begin the unpleasant task of documenting her injuries and taking samples of evidence for examination.

Although she had been present at numerous examinations of this kind in the past, Stella had been more disturbed than she cared to admit at having to be present to accept and label the samples collected by the careful and steady hand of the forensic nurse. She'd cringed with each splinter of wood pulled from beneath Lindsay's torn fingernails, winced as the wounds on her arms and legs were swabbed, and her hands had trembled slightly as she sealed the jar on the minute particles that had been carefully combed from Lindsay's hair.

The nurse had stopped once the cursory examination was complete, peeling the latex gloves from her hands and turning to Stella.

"That's all we can do for now, Detective," she said, tossing her gloves into the waiting receptacle.

Stella nodded her head. She knew that in order to continue, to complete the most intimate and – in Stella's opinion, by far the most important – part of the exam, they would need Lindsay's written consent, or the consent of a medical proxy speaking on her behalf. And seeing as her parents were still en route to New York – having been called by Mac Taylor himself once Lindsay was safely ensconced in the ambulance – there was no one to give proxy. And therefore, the Sexual Assault Evidence Kit would have to wait.

And so it was with a heavy heart that Stella stood outside Lindsay's hospital room. She'd both hoped for and feared the moment that Lindsay would regain consciousness. Although she knew it was important, she simply couldn't bear the thought of making Lindsay endure what was sure to be a painful – both physically and emotionally – exam.

But she was here to do the job and she owed it to herself, Mac, the lab – and especially Danny and Lindsay – to do everything in her power to bring the monster Eric Delorsio to justice. As much as she hated to do it, she realized that it was a necessary evil.

Mac seemed to sense her unease and he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering her a sympathetic smile.

"I don't envy you, Stella," he said quietly. "But it needs to be done. And you know that I would do it myself if I could. But given the circumstances, I have a feeling that Lindsay would be more comfortable with you there."

"I know, Mac," Stella sighed, bending to pick up her kit. "And I want to be there for her. I just wish there was a way to do this without… without actually having to do it."

"I'll be out here if you need me," Mac said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before taking a step back and allowing Stella to knock softly on the door.

"Come in," Lindsay's quiet and raspy voice barely carried through the door. Stella took a deep breath and turned the knob, plastering what she hoped was a reassuring and friendly smile on her face.

"Hey, kiddo," she said, closing the door behind herself and setting her kit on the floor by her feet. "I see you've gotten yourself a new roommate."

After giving the young couple a few moments of privacy after their touching reunion, Lindsay's doctor – a grey-haired but youthful-faced woman called Dr. Reynolds – had put her foot down, insisting that her patient needed her rest, which meant getting her back into her bed. In her own room.

The pleading and protests that had erupted from both Danny and Lindsay had caused their doctors some concern; Lindsay had begun to tremble almost uncontrollably and Danny's blood pressure began to rise at the mere thought of having his beloved Montana taken from his side. A decision was made to allow them to remain in the same room. Danny's smaller, single room was deemed too small to accommodate a second occupant, so once Lindsay had been snugly tucked back in her bed, Danny had been moved to the other, previously empty bed in her room.

Apparently, that hadn't been good enough for Danny, who grinned sheepishly at Stella from where he was perched on the edge of Lindsay's bed, one of her small, bandaged hands held gently in his.

"Hey, Stell."

"How're you feeling?" Stella asked, pulling up the chair at Lindsay's side and sitting down.

Lindsay glanced at Danny, a soft smile touching the corners of her lips. "I'm okay."

"I'm glad to hear it," Stella said. She took a deep breath, trying to think of a delicate way to bring up the subject she loathed to discuss.

"You okay there, Stell?" Danny asked. Stella inwardly cursed herself for letting her misgivings show so obviously on her face.

"Actually, I'm not here for a social visit."

"You need my statement," Lindsay said in a small voice.

Stella nodded. "Yes, there's that," she began. "But…"

"But…" Danny prompted. "Come on, Stella. Spit it out."

Stella let out a heavy sigh. She reached down for her kit, flipping the catches and opening it, pulling out a small clipboard onto which was clipped a form. She saw Lindsay's eyes widen with recognition – she too had been present for far too many of these exams for her taste and knew the exact purpose of that form.

"I'm sorry, Lindsay. I know it's not something that you want to think about or deal with right now, but I need your consent."

She watched as Lindsay turned to Danny, her eyes silently begging for his support and protection; for him to tell her that she didn't have to do it. That nobody was going to make her go through with it.

Danny's hand reached up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind Lindsay's ear, his eyes focused on her face.

"I can't make this decision for you," he said softly. "Nobody but you can do that. You know whether you need the test or not. You know better than me or Stella or the doctors what happened."

"I don't want to," Lindsay beseeched him, her voice warbling with emotion.

"I know you don't," Danny soothed. "I know. But if it will help… if he did anything to you that we need to know about…"

Lindsay shook her head, her eyes welling with tears.

"I don't know! I don't know!" she wailed, her face crumpling in anguish. "I can't… I don't remember!"

"Oh, Linds," Danny breathed, inching himself closer to her and using his unencumbered arm to gently embrace her, his face buried in her hair while she sobbed in earnest against his chest. "Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't leave me," came Lindsay's voice, muffled against the fabric of Danny's hospital gown. "Please don't go."

"Shh… shh…" he cooed. "I'm not going anywhere. I gotcha, Linds. I gotcha."

"I don't want… I… he…"

"Stella, can you give us a minute?" Danny asked while he rocked back and forth in an attempt to comfort the distraught woman in his arms. Nodding, Stella got to her feet.

"I'll be right outside."

Thoughts began to swirl chaotically in Lindsay's mind. She wasn't sure if they were memories or simply horrible imaginings. She recalled the terrifying moment when her fantasy of the first night she had spent with Danny had morphed into a nightmare in which Delorsio had invaded the most intimate area of her body. Had that actually happened? Or had it simply been the manifestation of her fears playing games with her?

Delorsio had certainly threatened her, torn her clothes from her body. But had he really violated her in that way?

She buried her face further into Danny's shoulder, gripping tightly to his shirt, heedless of the pain this caused her hands. She felt his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, heard his voice whispering reassurances in her ear. She felt so safe. If she could just stay here, tucked tightly in his arms…

"Please, Lindsay. Talk to me," Danny pleaded quietly. "I know this isn't easy. But talk to me. I want to help you. What are you thinking?"

"I don't want it to be real," she whispered. "I don't want to know."

Danny pulled back and Lindsay let out a whimper at the loss of the protective enclosure of his arms. He placed a finger under her chin, bringing her gaze up to meet his.

"You don't mean that, Lindsay," he said. "I know this is hard. I know." He swallowed hard, trying not to let his emotions overtake him. The mere thought of her needing to subject herself to a rape kit? It made his blood boil and seething hate for the man who had put her in this position to course through his veins. But Lindsay needed him to be strong, to be rational. "If you can't remember, then this exam… it's the only way to be sure. If it shows that he didn't… that… that nothing happened, then you'll be able to move on. You won't have to live the rest of your life wondering."

Lindsay sniffled quietly, her expression one of heart-breaking vulnerability. "But what if he did, Danny? What happens then?"

"Then we'll deal with it," Danny assured her. "We'll do everything we need to do to get you through this, no matter what this test tells us."

Raising a battered hand, Lindsay touched Danny's cheek. "We?"

"We," Danny affirmed, turning his face and pressing a tender kiss to her palm.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Lindsay curled her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, her lips seeking his. The kiss was soft and brief, but heartfelt and full of gratitude.

"Thank you," she rasped, her forehead pressed against Danny's.

"You don't gotta thank me, Linds," he replied, his hand skimming soothingly up and down her arm.

"I know. But I want to."

Danny gave her a small smile. "Well, whatever the lady wants," he said, pressing another quick kiss to her lips.

They remained sitting quietly on the bed, foreheads touching, for several long minutes.

"Linds?"

"Mmm?"

"Stella's waiting babe. She's gonna need an answer."

Lindsay pulled back, her expression one of resignation. She cast her gaze down to her hands, now resting in her lap. She nodded her head.

"I'll let her know," Danny said. He pressed one final kiss to her forehead before heaving himself from the bed with a groan, his limbs stiff and sore and his wounds aching. He grabbed the pole on which hung his IV medication and slowly, haltingly, made his way around Lindsay's bed and to the door.

He placed his hand on the knob, gave it a turn and pulled. Hearing the door open, Stella got to her feet, as did Mac who had joined her while she waited for Lindsay's decision.

"Well?" she asked.

Danny glanced back over his shoulder at Lindsay sitting small and alone on her bed. He turned back to Stella and nodded his head. "She'll do it."

I wrestled with ending the chapter there, but I think that for now it's a good place for a break.

As always, your thoughts and comments on what you've read are always welcome :)

*rhymes*