Title:
In The Deep
Summary:
She's drowning and he wants to save her, if he can and if she'll
let him. LindsayHammerback.
Disclaimer:
The names of all characters contained herein are the property of
Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS and Alliance
Atlantis. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are
used here without permission.
A/N:
Title of fic inspired by the Bird York song of the same name.
Rating:
T
In The Deep
"Til
you shed your pride, and you climb to heaven,
And
you throw yourself off, now you're out there spinning...
In
the deep."
-Bird
York
Lindsay comes into the morgue to talk about the Jane Doe they found in Central Park. Early thirties, brunette, this side of 120 pounds. Young. A lot to live for. Hammerback knows that she still sees the country girl—Sarah—in other victims. It's been a few months but she still does, that's why she spends so much time at the lab now. CSIs are supposed to be impartial. Think, don't feel. But Lindsay's not like that, she has to know the answers and the need almost borders on obsession.
He understands that, in a way. There's something terrible about the not knowing. As he's just a coroner, he only sees the victims in death. Analyze, file paperwork, perform the Y-incision. It's not much. But Lindsay's there when the victim becomes the person they once were, vibrant and alive, at least almost. She sees the tears shed and the malice in the eyes of those who killed, and it has to hurt. She's drowning and he wants to save her, if he can and if she'll let him.
Hammerback watches as she looks over the body, asks about the cause of death. He explains the force applied to the base of the skull, and when Lindsay asks if they know who the girl is yet, he falters.
"Do we know?" she asks again.
"No," he replies.
Lindsay's eyes harden and she says that's not good enough. She turns to leave, to go search for some way to indentify their Jane Doe, but she stops when he says, "She's not Sarah, Lindsay."
She turns back to him sharply and, forgive the expression, but you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. With a defeated sigh her face falls and she comes back to the autopsy table, looking forlornly down at the victim. Hammerback can tell that Lindsay is hiding something—aren't they all?—but this is something different, maybe this has to do with why she came to the city, why she never talks about home. Maybe her secret is the reason behind why she puts so much zeal into finding the 'why.'
"Her father said that the city is no place for a Montana girl. My father," she pauses a moment, "he said the same thing."
He wants to reach out, to comfort her. He's never exactly been good with women, but he thinks that maybe with Lindsay it will be different. She's somehow different. A breath of fresh air, if you will. She's beautiful, in a clean and wholesome way like the girls in college magazines you expect to be drinking cocoa and wearing sweaters all the time. Her smile always curves up in a sad sort of way, like it will fade away into the annals of history like a traitor in the Soviet Union if you don't catch it quick enough.
Hammerback considers this a moment before saying, "Albert Einstein once said, 'God does not play dice with the universe.' Do you know what that means?"
She considers him a moment before shaking her head.
"It means that nothing happens randomly. You're here in the city for a reason, not by chance. Whatever happened in Montana, with your father…It brought you here, to us. To Mac and Danny, Stella and Hawkes. You're making a difference here, Lindsay. And that's what matters. This didn't happen by chance," he says again.
Lindsay wonders if he thinks she came to him as well, not just the other CSIs. She looks away from him, around to the quiet morgue and the dead. Lindsay knows that the dead cry out for justice and that it is the duty of the living to find it for them. When death struck close to her home, she knew this to be true, but she still doesn't understand why. It's never fair, and she says so.
"You're right, Lindsay. Life's not fair, but it's far more fair than death."
"Do you really think so, Sid?" she asks him. "I just don't know how to work it, the not knowing. It's so hard for me. Being a CSI is about finding the answers but sometimes I can't."
As he moves to say something, Danny enters the morgue with news of the Jane Doe's identity. They engage in an animated conversation about the case, discussing forensics and possible leads. The news about Melissa Nolan (for that is her name) lifts Lindsay's spirits—now she knows, now she has an answer—and Hammerback desperately wishes that he was the one who gave it to her.
She bids a hasty goodbye to him, and just before she walks out the door, he calls her name.
She turns and waits for him to speak, and he says, "One day at a time works both ways."
Lindsay smiles at him brilliantly and waves slightly; "See you soon, Sid."
Those words carry him through two more autopsies, miles of paperwork, and the rest of the day. Soon won't be soon enough, not where Lindsay Monroe is concerned.
finis.