Title: Their Love, Her Murder

Disclaimer: Angst. Serious slash. Violence. Character death.

Note: Check my profile for an author note.

Chapter Five: Falling Down

I bid Flack a quick farewell. He seems upset about something. What? The beer being spilled on me or the fact that our lunch didn't go so well? I want to apologize to him but Mac isn't happy. I have no idea what I did wrong. All I did was go get some lunch. When did that become a crime?

I make my way hastily back to the lab. No sense in keeping Mac waiting. It'll just make him worse. I should just go home and change. I reek of beer. Not good. Mac is going to fly off the handle. I just know it. Yet, I don't turn around. I enter the lab.

One strike for being late. Two strikes for…for what? You're slipping, Danny-boy. Get the act together.

Making my way to Mac's office, I don't see anyone. Not Stella or Hawkes. Not even Lindsay. They know. They all know that Danny Messer has screwed up once again. Just more gossip for the lab. I reach the point of my demise. Mac is waiting in his office. He's pacing. That is not a good sign. I steel my spine and enter.

"Mac, I don't understand why you're so mad," I begin.

"Shut up and sit down."

Like an obedient dog, I sit. However, I don't shut up. "All I did was go out for a late lunch. Is that a crime?"

"No, it's not. Forgetting to lock up evidence is." His tone is real serious. What the hell did I do?

"Excuse me?"

He finally looks at me. "I have been told that Hawkes and Stella gave you a substance today; after I assigned you to their case. A substance that proved to be important. Do you remember what you did with it before you left for your late lunch?"

"I…I…" I don't want to say. I know what I did with it. "I left it on the table."

"Precisely. Now the case has been comprised." He resumes pacing.

"What? How? I left everything in the bag. I just didn't put it in the safe. Even if someone spilled something it should have been fine," I explain. I feel like Mac is just throwing out accusations.

"Oh, I agree, it should have been fine. Because it should have been locked up. Instead, someone tampered with it."

"Tampered with it?" Well, that was news to me. Kind of explains why Mac is so mad. After all, Aiden had just been fired for that reason. Hey, wait a minute. "I didn't do it, Mac. I swear."

"Is that true, Danny?" He asks.

He's doubting me? My own boss, someone I thought of us a friend? How could he? "Mac, we're talking about me. I have never messed up. Not like this."

He sighs and leans against his desk. "Danny, I don't know what to do with you."

What's he going on about? Oh boy, you'll be joining Aiden in that job hunt of hers. Now what will you do for a career? You screwed up.

"Do with me? What are you talking about?" My heart beat begins to quicken. I'm going to panic soon. I love my job. I love being here. Nothing is more thrilling than solving the puzzle and putting the bad guy behind bars.

"Ever since Aiden left you have been a different person. You've become secretive and distant. With everyone. You go out drinking, get wasted, and come to work late. Now you forget to lock up evidence. That's not the Daniel Messer that I hired. Is there something going on?"

Go ahead, tell him, he'll understand. Tell him how you have fallen for the detective. It's love. You can't ignore your heart.

I bite my tongue. I can't tell him. He'd never understand. None of them will. I don't even understand. "I'm sorry, Mac. I'm just dealing with a personal issue. I'll try not to let it interfere with my work again. Promise."

He stands. I stand. We walk to the office door. He grabs my arm. "One more thing, why do you smell alcohol?"

I knew that he would ask. It was only a matter of when. A CSI like Mac never misses a thing. That's why he is in charge.

"Someone spilled beer on me. Honest. Ask Flack. He missed lunch too, so we grabbed a bite together."

Ha! Now he knows that you were with Flack. Idiot. Now he'll probably watch you closer. He'll do everything and just about anything to find out what's on your mind.

He hesitates. "I'll just believe you on this one. You have an extra change of clothes in your locker, right?" I nod. "Go change. I don't want you walking around here smelling like that."

I slip away. It's not until I reach the locker room that I begin to breathe again. That was a lucky one. I can't believe I was dumb enough to leave evidence out. But who would tamper with it? Was their a mole in the lab? Or did someone manage to break-in? How were Hawkes and Stella dealing with this? Mac said it was important. The call, the one I received before Mac called, it pretty much said the same. I hit my head against the locker.

"Danny." It's Mac. Again. He's one of the only people that uses my first name. He's also the only one that ever calls me Daniel.

"Yes, sir?"

"You have a new assignment. A home invasion. Robbery." He hands me the information. "Oh," he says as he goes to leave, "stop calling me sir. I hate that."

Home invasion? Robbery? Great, a job usually given to level 1 CSI's just out of the academy. Mac really isn't pleased with me. I guess his trust toward me is waning a bit. Can I blame him? No. Everything he said in his office was true. I have been secretive. I did get wasted and I did forget to lock-up the evidence. I was slipping. Maybe this robbery was what I needed. No dead bodies. No exploited children. A break for my already tired mind.

The work day was finally over. I throw my keys on the table near my door. My head hurts. Nothing like working with a frantic woman. The home invasion, not the peace that I was looking for. Ms. Youngston was hysterical. She kept going on and on about how her ex had robbed her. She had no proof it was him. I didn't even have the proof. Not yet. I rub my arm where it hurts. Women should not be allowed to have such long nails. She was so scared that when I went to leave she grabbed me and wouldn't let go. The rookie cop had to pry her off. For her safety, and my sanity, I drove her to a motel near police headquarters.

I need to go for a run. I need to clear my head. I need the pain to go away. I change into a black T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. I grab my keys and lock the door on my way out. The rain starts to fall just minutes after I leave. I don't care. I hardly notice it. I just want to run. The sidewalks are crowded with people in business suits and umbrellas. I dodge them as I go. I don't even care where I'm running to.

Runaway, just runaway. Run from it all. Run from the confusion. The anger. Run from you mistakes. Just keep running and never look back. Life is easier this way. Just run.

I stop to catch my breath after a while. The rain is still coming down. It's soaked me. But I don't care. It's just water. Water that hasn't washed away the problems. I still hurt. I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the brick building behind me. I know why I ran here. I know this building.

He lives here.

Go see him. The door man will let you in. You have your badge. You always do. Go on, you know you want to.

My badge works the doorman like a charm. He's eager to let me in. I guess he knows that Flack is a detective. He tells me what floor to go to and what apartment number I need. I make a mental note to tell Flack that the doorman knows a little more than he should and the he is all-too willing to give out the information. The elevator is quiet. No surprise. It's late. I begin to shiver. The dampness of my clothes has finally gotten to me.

With courage I didn't know I had, I walk up to the door with the number I was told. Flack is behind this door. It's the only thing between us. I knock. The second pass and feel more like hours. God, my head hurts. I want the pain to go away. I close my eyes, shielding them from the dimly lit hallway.

"Danny?"

When you concentrate hard enough, the pain goes away. The darkness takes it. The pain, it's gone…