A/N: I love you people! I love comments! I love writing this story! I love the fact that Carmine Giovinozzo likes to paint (recent discovery) because art is awesome! I don't like this constant desire to have someone turn into a were-wolf. Hmmm… no. Cake and pictures for all!

I would also like to dedicate this chapter to my sister Jessica, whose name I kind of, sort of, in a way, borrowed.

Ch. 14

Digging

Danny found that if he stared at the blank white wall long enough, he would start to see things. Faint gray flashes for the most part as his optic senses became overwhelmed by the single blinding color. Staring hard, the gray flashes took on starburst patterns, and vague hints of color managed to work their way in to create his own personal fireworks show. He became entranced by it, and let his body grow strangely light and his mind wonderfully blank. For the first time in his life he was actually able to put up with the incessant waiting hospitals always put people through.

He was waiting for word on the only survivor of the Hangman killing spree. The woman's name, he had come to learn, was Jessi Donald. She was twenty-five, a bank teller, and that was all he knew so far. The rest would become known if and only if Jessi were up to it. Danny had no intentions of pushing her, not after what he had seen her go through the other night.

In truth, Danny did not mind the wait. In fact he was actually glad for it. The led weight that had plagued his body the other night still lingered in his bones, and there was a dull throb in his head that had refused to go away even after taking some aspirin. Bad sleep was to blame. He had been exhausted to the point of trembling and still his sleep and dreams had been a sporadic mess. The moment he closed his eyes he had relived Jessi's near death, then awoke, tried to go back to sleep, and dreamed a varying number of different visions that had him waking up what felt like every two minutes with a pounding heart. He did not even recall half the dreams, but knew that some had been too lame to have waken up to at all. On top of that, sometime during his poor excuse for sleep, his wrist flared up again. He had removed the splint the other morning since his wrist had stopped hurting and the plastic piece of crap was only getting in his way. Now it was strapped to him once again like a parasite.

So, all in all, last night had been hell in the worst kind of way, and the morning was making him pay for it. He had come to headquarters believing himself well rested, then learned that the table supposedly purchased by the killer had been - in fact - stolen from a warehouse downtown. It had been a gang-related crime, which would explain how the killer might have gotten his hands on it. The fake severed hand held a similar story, according to Stella.

So a bad night had bled over into a bad morning. That is until Dr. Farrone called him up to tell him about Jessi. Not only would the young woman make it, she was also already alert and coherent. Farrone asked Danny to come down, and so he did, and was now staring vacantly at the blank wall across from him.

Danny was sitting back and had his head resting against the wall. As he let shadows and colors dance before his unfocused vision he could feel his eyelids begin to weigh down and lower. So he let them, and his mind wandered into the realm of incoherent thought. There were no dreams, just mental ramblings of images bouncing about his brain, melding from one to the other with no rhyme or reason, just simple freedom from focused thinking. It was nice.

" Detective Messer?"

The voice penetrated into the realm like a bullet through glass. Danny started awake with a sharp inhalation of breath. He snapped his head around and looked up to see Dr. Farrone standing adjacent to him, holding a yellow notepad and appearing slightly perplexed.

" Sorry," she said sheepishly. " You all right?"

Danny pushed one hand up beneath his glasses to rub his tired eyes. " Yeah. Bad night."

This time, Farrone gave him a sheepish wince. " Oh, yeah. Um, anyway, I was finally able to speak with the doctor. He says that Jessi can talk, but we need to keep it short."

Danny nodded, then pushed himself to his feet with a quiet grunt. He followed Farrone three rooms down the hall and through a door flanked by two uniforms. The colorless room contained three beds with the center one occupied by Jessi's still and supine form. She was hooked up to a heart monitor and various IVs, one of which had a solid stream of blood flowing into her stitched up and bandaged wrists. There was a hint of color returning to her pale cheeks, as well as dark bruising circling her throat like a bad collar. Standing on the left side of the bed was a nurse in pink scrubs, writing something down on a chart.

" You know," Danny began uncertainly. " You might've wanted to call in a female detective. Usually in situations like this - with the attacker being male and all - it's a bad idea to use a guy. Makes the vic uncomfortable."

" Well, I know the counter to that. You saved her life. I find people open up much easier when it's their saviors doing the asking."

Danny was still unsure. " You mean if they even remember the ones who saved them in the first place. She was pretty out of it last night."

They came up to the right hand side of the bed. The heart monitor beeped steadily like a timid drum, and for a moment became the only sound in the room.

Danny thoughtfully stared at the young woman for a minute. With her eyes closed and her face still pale, the fact that she was alive became difficult to comprehend. Her chest barely moved as she breathed. But she was alive, the heart monitor attested to that, and it amazed Danny. There always came a sense of joy in the knowledge of having saved someone. Jessi was not the first life Danny had saved, of course, but the feeling never diminished each time around.

Farrone nudged him in the side. " Talk to her," she whispered. Danny, in truth, had been waiting for Farrone to take the lead since she had been the one to call him in. But asking the question was his department.

Danny cleared his throat nervously. Jessi looked so much at peace being asleep that it felt rude to have to wake her.

" Um, Miss Donald?" he said.

Jessi's eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened. She turned her dark brown eyes up in Danny's direction.

" Hey," Danny said next. " My name's Danny Messer, I'm with the NYPD crime lab… I don't know if you remember me…"

Jessi smiled and moved her head ever so slightly up and down. Danny blinked in surprise.

" Oh. Well that's good to know, I guess. You did a good job, hanging on like that. Truth to tell I've never seen anything like it."

Jessi's smile broadened. She said something, but her voice was so faint that it could not be heard above the monitor.

" What was that?" Danny asked, pulling up a plastic chair to sit at Jessi's head and hear better.

" Mom says I'm stubborn," she whispered lightly in a rasping voice.

Danny grinned. " It's a good trait to have, I don't care what anybody says. Listen, I know it must be hard for you to talk and you're probably tired, but I need to ask you a few questions. It shouldn't take long. General stuff. You up to it? We don't have to do this now if you don't want."

Jessi nodded again. " Okay."

Anita pulled out a pen and flipped her notepad over. Danny glanced over at her, then back at Jessi. " This is Dr. Farrone, by the way. She's just here to take notes… obviously. Okay, we'll start with the tough one first, just to get it out of the way. Did you ever get a good look at your attacker?"

Jessi shook her head slowly from side to side. " He…" she swallowed, " came up… from behind. Too dark."

" Okay. And I'm guessing he put something over your face, right? Like a rag or something?"

She nodded.

" And you never got the chance to see him?"

She nodded again.

" Do you think you could tell me about when you came to? Was it while he was taking you somewhere, or when you got there? We found you in an office building."

" Building."

" So you woke up after you arrived?"

She nodded.

" All right, this may be another hard one. Were you bound up already, or about to be?"

Jessi took a deep breath. " B-bound."

Danny gestured at his own neck. " Around here?"

She nodded.

Danny was loathed to ask his next question, but he plunged ahead with it all the same. " So - then - you knew, I mean you were aware, when he cut your wrists?"

Jessi squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a moment, and when she opened them Danny saw them flooding with ready to fall tears.

" Hey, Jessi, it's all right. It's over now, you're safe. Here, I'll ask an easier question. I'm assuming that, before you were taken, you were out on the town or something, right?"

Jessi blinked the tears back though one managed to escape and slide down her cheek. She nodded.

" Going to clubs?"

" Dance clubs. Went to three. I like to dance."

" Were you with friends?"

She nodded. " Wanted to go home early. Feet hurt."

" I'd imagine that'd be the case if you were dancing most of the night. All right, I think we got enough. I really appreciate this. We'll let you get back to resting. I'm going to leave you my and Dr. Farrone's number in case you think of anything else…"

As he was about to reach into his pocket for a card, Jessi's hand shot out to wrap her fingers tightly around his wrist. Her brow wrinkled in a look of deep consternation as though she was trying to remember something or puzzle something out.

" He came back."

" What?" Danny said, his hand frozen in mid-movement.

Jessi swallowed. " He - he came back. I was… up high. I was… trying not to move. Felt dizzy, tired. He left. He came back, in minutes. Didn't see him, just an… outline." She swallowed and cleared her throat. " Tied something to the rope on my neck. Tied it to Door. I - I saw that much. Didn't see his face. He said something. He said, be patient. Told me to be patient. Said - something was all wrong. Sounded angry." Fear clouded over her widening eyes. " Really angry." Tears welled up once again. " Kept cursing…"

She was squeezing Danny's wrist painfully. Ignoring the pain, Danny managed to maneuver his wrist free so that Jessi gripped his hand instead. " Hey, Jessi, it's okay. It doesn't matter anymore. If he's going to be mad at anyone it's going to be the cops. You're safe. We've got police outside this door and everything."

Jessi closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself, then nodded once again. The death grip on Danny's hand lessened, and he carefully moved the hand back onto the bed and released it.

" We'll let you get back to sleep," he said, standing. " We'll leave the numbers with the nurse."
Jessi's hand shot out again, and again took hold of Danny's arm. But the grip was light, almost non-existent. Her eyes still brimmed with water, and another tear escaped. But there was no fear or pain in her eyes. Just profound, overwhelming gratitude that stunned Danny.

" Thank you," Jessi mouthed.

Once again, Danny maneuvered from her grip to take her hand. He squeezed it reassuringly and smiled at Jessi. " No problem."

He then released her hand, and reached for his wallet to pull out a card with his number on it. He and Anita handed their perspective cards to the nurse, then headed out the room and back down the hall.

" Good thing Mavin wasn't here," Danny said, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. " I think he would have had her bawling 'til she was dehydrated."

" Wouldn't be the first time, or so I heard," Anita replied, sticking her notepad back into her black purse. They headed to the elevators and entered the one already arrived and open. Once inside, Danny leaned with his back against the wall and looked over at Farrone.

" So, what - exactly - is going down with this guy? Why the shift?"

Anita tilted her head back and sighed. " Oh, ain't that the million dollar question." She lowered her head back down, then rolled her neck a few times until it popped. " I can only give you my thoughts on the matter, but personally they just don't feel right to me. I'm sticking with the multi-personality MO." She sighed, pausing in such deep thought that Danny was certain she was going to stare a hole right through the wall. " I'm thiiinkiiing… Okay, from what Jessi just told me, about him sounding angry… and taking into consideration the Hangman told you what was going to happen…."

She paused and began chewing her lower lip. The elevator shuddered to a halt and the doors opened onto the busy first floor with the half-circle front desk. The two stepped out, then headed for the sliding doors out into a cool but bright afternoon. Once outside, Anita stopped and turned to face Danny.

" I think it was punishment."

" Punishment?"

" Yes, punishment, for one of the alter personalities. I believe the recent death, the one that happened out of the established time consistency, was a fluke. It wasn't supposed to happen. These killings are like a competition, full of rules and everything. But, I'm guessing one of the egos got a little full of themselves and decided to pick things up, probably to show up the other personality. So, as punishment, a victim was not allowed to die, to make up for the altercation. As for causing Jessi to be pulled from the mantle when the door opened… that was probably done as a sign to let you know the game was still on and that nothing had changed. Or it could have been done for amusement. I mean if the guy can't kill then he hurts. So, being unable to kill the girl, he did what he could to hurt her. Both seem pretty likely to me."

" So," Danny said, " what you're saying is that our guy will go back to killing every two to three days?"

" I should think so. Unless another bout of rebellion surfaces. Or a day by day killing is preferred. The Hangman already dropped the whole waiting a week before killing again scenario. If the game starts to get boring for him, there's no saying what he might do to pick things up."

Danny glanced around to hide his frustration. " No evidence, no leads, no certainties. It's a wonder the guy even exists. You know, if you ask me, I'd say this is one big mass hallucination and it isn't really happening, " he said with unchecked sarcasm.

" I think Jessi would beg to differ."

The comment was like a slap in the face for Danny. " Good point."

Anita adjusted the strap on her purse higher up her shoulder, then shifted her weight onto her other foot. " Listen, my line of work has me dealing with a lot of sociopaths, and to me they're all the same. Basically, for them, they have nothing to lose. You can't guilt-trip them into anything, you can't threaten them to cooperate. The only thing you can do is try and outthink them, which means - usually - getting sucked into a nightmare. But even soul-less SOBs like the Hangman have a weakness. It's basically the same weakness we all have - pride. If you can get to their pride, get to their egos in some way, then you have them. It's not always easy to find, and sometimes they'll have you running in circles, making you think you have it until they laugh in your face. But if you keep at it, you'll eventually strike a nerve, which will eventually bring down their tower of self-righteousness."

" So where's this guy's ego at?" Danny asked. " In the game?"

Anita shrugged. " I'm not quite sure yet. It's not always found in what they do, or how they do it. Sometimes it lies deeper. They bury themselves in emotional nothingness, but things can be dug back up. It's usually not a pretty dig, but it's always worth it."

Danny glanced at his watch. It was well passed lunchtime now, but he wasn't that hungry to begin with. " Just don't dig yourself into a hole you can't get out of, right?"

Anita nodded. " Exactly."

NOTE

Ugh! I totally forgot about Danny's cast. Hopefully what I did in this chapter got things back on track. I'm always doing that, giving a character some object like a wizard staff or something then forgetting they have it. Oh well. Danny's wrist situation is based off of something that happened to me (thank you very much, PE class). I don't recall how long I was in that stupid plastic thing though, just that it was annoying. Danny seems the type to remove removable casts before the doctor gives the okay.

For all you sick weirdoes (like me) who are waiting for something unfortold to happen to Danny because you like it when your favorite characters get hurt (oh, what's the matter with us! slaps face bad us, bad!) Have patience. I always save the best for last, and build up to it until then. And what I have in store for Danny… (much evil laughter ensues as I rub my hands together wickedly.) I said too much already.

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