Officer Down
It was nearly one o'clock when Danny looked up from dusting the boy's bedroom door for prints. Lindsey was busy working on the opposite side of the room, pulling hair and fiber samples from the bed.
"Hey, Montana; you hungry?" Danny asked, and Lindsey nodded, feeling her stomach rumbling with hunger.
"I'll go get some hot dogs, and we can keep right on working if you want," Danny offered, and Lindsey nodded, reaching into her pocket for a few dollars to hand to her partner.
"No, I'm buying," Danny said gruffly, and headed down stairs before Lindsey could open her mouth to protest.
Returning to her work, Lindsey had no sooner plucked a hair from the teen's bloodied pajama top when she heard a commotion in the hall, and Danny's startled expletive. A gun shot exploded, and Lindsey could hear someone fall to the floor. Dropping the evidence bag on the bed, Lindsey sprinted for the hall, just in time to see a man racing down the stairs and out of sight. Danny lay at the top of the stairs, his weapon a few inches from his hand, and his body still.
"Oh my God," Lindsey breathed, her mind reeling with shock at the surprise ambush.
Drawing her own weapon, she looked around for signs of any other intruders before squatting down beside her partner. Carefully, she grasped his shoulders, rolling him over onto his back. For a moment, she wasn't sure he was even alive, but then his eyes opened, and he looked into her face.
"I think I've been shot," he said matter-of-factly, and Lindsey saw a dark stain of blood begin to appear on the crisp, pale blue linen shirt he was wearing.
"Be still," Lindsey commanded, her voice shaking with shock and fear.
Where was the intruder? Had he left the house, or was he lurking somewhere downstairs, ready to pounce again? The police officers had long since gone, leaving the CSIs to finish processing the scene. Danny gasped, his face contorted in pain.
"Do something," he hissed through clenched teeth, the muscles in his jaw standing out in ridges under his skin.
Lindsey's mouth felt dry as she fumbled with her cell phone and punched in the numbers to emergency response. Danny's breathing was becoming laboured, and the stain on his shirt spreading out in a circular pattern over his chest. Pressing her hand against his chest in an attempt to keep him from loosing anymore blood, Lindsey heard the operator come on the line.
"Officer down," Lindsey's voice was shaking as she described her emergency.
Danny's eyes were fixed on her face, and she noticed that he'd placed a hand over hers covering his wound. He surprised her by squeezing her fingers in his, his grip strong even though he was fighting for his life.
"Don't leave me Montana; I can't do this alone," he whispered weakly, and Lindsey shook her head, giving their location to the dispatcher before disconnecting from the call.
"Danny, don't talk," Lindsey chastised, and noticed with alarm that his eyes were starting to roll upward toward the ceiling.
"Hey," she called to him, slapping gently at his cheek with her free hand.
The warm blood seeping beneath her hand seemed to drench her flesh, and Lindsey pressed harder, desperate to staunch the flow from Danny's chest. His gaze flicked to her face for a brief fraction of a second, and his mouth moved with barely discernable words. Leaning closer, Lindsey strained to hear him over the sound of her heart pounding in her head.
"Promise me you won't forget," he finished painfully, before his eyes rolled completely back and his grip on her fingers relaxed.
Lindsey's breath caught in her throat, and she felt as if an icy hand were gripping her heart as she again patted her partner's sweat-damp cheek. Getting no response, not even a flicker of an eyelash, Lindsey shook his shoulder in hopes of rousing him. Danny's hand flopped from hers, landing on his chest before sliding to the floor. His body was completely limp, and his chest still.
"Danny!" Lindsey screamed, panic and fear in her voice.
"Don't you do this Danny," she choked, her words coming on a sob.
"Don't you dare die on me; do you hear me?" Lindsey pled desperately with her partner; hoping for a response.
Yet Danny lay still, his blood continuing to escape from his body and pool around Lindsey's fingers.
"No!" she screamed in terror, "no, no, no!" Her fingers grasped at the fabric of his shirt as if trying to pull Danny back from the brink of death.
As tears blurred her vision, Lindsey didn't hear Mac and Stella ascending the stairs behind her. All she could think of was Danny's habit of calling her 'Montana', and how she wished she could hear him say it again.