Disclaimer: I own nothing. But its not from lack of trying!
AN: Don't know where this came from, or whether to continue it. Reviews are always gratefully received, and are incentive to write more. So please, read, review and enjoy.
Time
Flack shook his head, wincing as the movement jarred his bandaged shoulder, wondering how time had the ability to go so fast and yet so damn slow.
From when the suspect had pulled a gun, to back up finally getting their asses in gear and getting rid of him, time had flown. But at the moment when Danny had been hit, time had held no meaning.
He'd looked surprised at first, as blood plumed from his chest, the bullet pushing flesh, blood and bone out of its way, and then the pain had hit him. Both literally and figuratively, as another bullet had smashed it's way into Danny's fragile flesh. Danny had let out a pained grunt, and then rushed to embrace the floor.
All Flack could do was watch, hopelessly transfixed, as his best friend was shot twice, all in the space of what must have been five seconds at the very most. As soon as his brain had kicked back in, and he'd regained control of his body, he'd jumped and tackled the suspect to the floor, gaining himself a bullet in the shoulder for his trouble.
"See what I do for you, Messer?" Flack said jokingly, "Didn't want you to get anymore bullet holes in your suit..."
The figure in the hospital bed was unresponsive, causing Flack to sigh.
"C'mon Danny, open your eyes" he pleaded.
There was nothing to indicate that he'd been heard.
"Asshole" muttered Flack, he didn't mean it in the slightest, but it made him feel a little more normal. And it was also said in the hope that Danny would respond with some smart-ass answer. Although he wouldn't put it past Danny to be watching him suffer.
Again, there was no response.
Flack sighed again and looked at the machines that Danny was attached to. He was reassured by the green line tracing Danny's heartbeat, relieved to find that it was now steady.
As soon as the suspect had been dealt with, he'd rushed to Danny's side. He'd frozen, shocked at the amount of blood, before his first aid training had kicked in. He'd applied pressure to the wound with one hand, called for an ambulance and back up with the other, and kept Danny talking as well.
Flack had been scared and he didn't mind admitting it. Watching Danny's life drain from him with every beat of his heart had been terrifying. And Danny's face had reflected Flack's fear. They both knew only too well what bullets did to flesh.
"Oh my god, I'm dying Flack!"
Danny's frantic and terrified words had cut Flack to the core. Mainly because they were true. And Flack had been helpless to do anything, except try to reassure Danny, to urge him to hold on.
He'd known it was a losing battle though. He'd felt Danny's blood pumping out between his fingers, saw Danny's lips turning blue and felt him getting colder. Danny's breathing had been painful enough to listen to, let alone experience and Flack had known that time was running out.
The relief that he'd felt when the paramedics arrived had been massive. They had quickly taken over, attached Danny to monitors, IV's and god know what else, and before he knew it, Danny had been in the back of an ambulance.
Time had again stood still then. This time it had focused on the high pitched squealing of the alarm, telling them all that Danny's heart had given up. Flack had almost had a heart attack as well, helpless to do anything but watch the monitor, a flat green line tracing its way across it.
Flack gave a shuddering breath, and checked the monitor again, reassuring himself that Danny did have a steady heartbeat and that instead of that terrible flatline, there were peaks and falls.
Flack had been so intent on Danny, that it came as a shock to him when the paramedics had forced him into another ambulance to get treated for his own bullet wound. He'd forgotten all about it in his desperation to help Danny. As they had poked about it though, it had become impossible to ignore; it felt like he'd been shot all over again.
Even so, his thoughts had stayed with Danny, thoughts of the paramedics working frantically on Danny, trying to coax life back into him invading his mind. The first thing that Flack had wanted to do on arriving at the hospital was to find Danny. The paramedics had had other ideas though.
It had taken two paramedics, a nurse and a doctor before he'd grudgingly agreed to get treated, and that was after the doctor had told him that Danny's heart had been restarted and that he was being worked on in a trauma room. That, and the threat of sedation.
Flack made a face. Even if he hadn't have been worried sick about Danny, the threat of sedation would have changed his mind anyway. He hated being drugged and out of control of his body. The last time he'd been sedated, he'd been able to feel, think and blink. It had been like being a prisoner in his own body, and wasn't an experience that he was keen to repeat.
Danny shifted slightly, and Flack's attention snapped back to the figure. He held his breath. But still Danny lay there, machines breathing for him, eyes closed.
Flack swore under his breath, much to the displeasure of the nurse that had just walked into the room to check Danny's vitals.
"Sorry" he muttered, and the nurse looked appeased.
"Your friend should be waking up any minute now." She told him, obviously appeased enough to volunteer information. Either that or she didn't want him bugging her. Again.
The first time he'd been allowed to see Danny was once his shoulder had been poked some more, bandaged up and then after he'd had the necessary shots. So Flack had been a little impatient to say the least.
He'd been shocked to find Danny looking a helluva lot worse than when he'd left him, which was an achievement. Danny's usually golden skin had been pale and white, the blood had gone, in its place had been pristine white bandages, covering his chest. There had been wires and tubes attached to him everywhere, a monitor beeping as it traced his heartbeat. And worst of all had been the ventilator breathing for him.
Flack looked at the scene in front of him, little changed from when he'd first seen Danny. That had been 24 hours ago. In that time, the other CSIs had come to visit, but had left a couple of hours ago to get some sleep. Flack had only moved to go to the toilet. He was waiting for the moment when Danny opened his eyes, just to make sure that he really was ok.
Danny shifted again, and Flack froze, praying that this time Danny would open his eyes. Once again, it was to no avail.
Flack shook his head, wincing as the movement jarred his bandaged shoulder, wondering how time had the ability to go so fast and yet so damn slow...