Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Author's note:Here we go. I feel so bad because of the sadness I bring Danny in this chapter, especially since some of you really wanted to see Louie survive, but I had this planned awhile back. Let me know what you think, good or bad! Thanks!
Chapter 4
"Hey Messer, you done? I've finished processing the bedroom."
"Yep, just getting my last print," Danny muttered as Lindsay leaned against the door frame. The pair were finishing an apparent suicide. A 30-year-old man was found in his bedroom, dead from an gunshot to his temple. Despite what looked like a clear cut case, the CSIs still had to completely process the scene. Danny was completing his printing of the door knobs, looking for foreign prints in case the ME ruled anything other than suicide.
"This really is sad," Lindsay said a short time later as they loaded their stuff in Lindsay's car. Danny was nodding in agreement when his cell phone began to ring.
He sighed in irritation. He just wanted to get back to the lab and away from the 90 plus degree heat. "Yeah? Oh, Pop. What is it? What's wrong?"
Lindsay stopped what she was doing when she heard the change in Danny's tone. "Calm down, I'll be right there." He turned to look at Lindsay. "Something's bad at the hospital. Louie was having breakfast with Mom and Pop when his eyes rolled back. His monitors started going haywire. They're working on him now."
Not missing a beat, Lindsay shouted to the uniformed officer nearby. "Hopkins! Messer needs a ride to the hospital, now." Turning to Danny, she placed a hand on his arm. "Go," she said, taking in the panic in his eyes. "I'll get this to the lab. You take care of your family."
With a brief nod, Danny took off and Lindsay made her way back to the lab. Worry clouded her thoughts. Louie Messer had been doing better in recent weeks. His eyes were open, and he was starting to be able to use some rudimentary language and eat simple meals. Danny spent much of his free time there, using Louie's limited language ability to settle some longstanding issues. Danny was finally convinced that his brother loved him. Now for this to happen was too cruel.
"It's just not fair," Lindsay said to herself as she struggled with the evidence cases.
"Hey! Let me help you with that." Stella Bonasera rushed over and took Danny's case. "Where's Messer? You know Lindsay, you can't let him force you to do all the work. Give that boy and inch and he'll take a mile."
Before Stella could continue, Lindsay quickly filled her in on Louie and proceeded upstairs, where they let Mac and the rest of the team know what's going on. Hawkes went to call one of his contacts at the hospital to check on Louie's condition. Lindsay was staring into space, thinking of the pain Danny must be in when Mac tapped her on the shoulder.
"Lindsay, we're all worried about Danny, but we need to keep working." She nodded and went to work, Danny still present in her mind.
Half an hour later …
Hammerbeck was showing Lindsay the victim's entrance wound and explaining why he would be ruling the death a suicide when Mac appeared in the morgue's doorway. "Lindsay?" Hammerbeck waved her on. "We're done here, I'll fill out the paperwork."
Mac didn't have to say a word for her to know the news wasn't good. "Hawkes' friend at the hospital called. Louie suffered a massive stroke - not uncommon for those who have had significant head trauma. He died 15 mintues ago."
Lindsay slumped against the wall. "Oh god, poor Danny. I should go down there. Someone needs to be there …"
"Hawkes' friend said the family is devastated, and are grieving together. This isn't the time for us to help him Lindsay, he will let us know when we can."
Three days later, Louis Robert Messer was laid to rest. In the time since his death, Lindsay had tried to contact Danny, but he didn't return her calls and she decided it was best to leave him be. Now she stood at the back of the crowd at the gravesite with her fellow CSIs - Mac, Stella, Hawkes, Flack, Hammerbeck and others. She could see Danny stoically holding on to his mother, not shedding a tear. She recognized that look, knowing Danny was trying to be strong, not letting the pain get to him.
Later, as they filed by the family, she watched as Danny shook hands with a line of people. Mac approached him and hugged him hard. "We're all sorry Danny. You just let us know what you need, and don't even think about coming back to work until next week."
Danny nodded, and went on to greet the rest of them, accepting their condolences silently, nodding at their comments. When Lindsay finally approached, he wouldn't look her in the eye. "Danny?" She put her hands on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry." He finally looked at her, and Lindsay was almost knocked over by the depth of grief in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then coughed and stepped back. "I have to see to my mom."
They watched him leave, then began to walk back to their cars. Only Lindsay lingered, wanting desperately to help. "There's nothing we can do right now, Lindsay," Stella put and arm around her. "We need to wait for him to decide if he needs us."
Lindsay sighed and let herself be led away.
Danny took the rest of the week off, and still was not returning any phone calls. When she finally worked up the nerve, she asked Mac if he had spoken to him and how he was. "He's in a dark place, Lindsay. We just have to let him be," was his reply.
Saturday night Lindsay was still brooding, fighting the urge to call him. Halfway through some bad late night movie, her cell phone rang. She scrambled to reach it. "Hello?" Silence followed. "Hello?"
"Montana." It was Danny, and he didn't sound right.
"How are you?" Damn, stupid question, she thought. "Danny, is there something I can do? Anything, just tell me."
Danny laughed, and for some reason, the sound was desolate, leaving Lindsay unsettled. "I told you once before, 'anything' is a dangerous word."
He was drunk. "Listen Danny, do you want a talk? Why don't you come over here? You could probably use a change of scenery and I can make us some coffee."
Silence fell once again - all Lindsay could hear was the somewhat unsteady sound of his breathing. Then finally, "You know what? I gotta go. Take care of yourself, Montana."
"Danny, wait!" Lindsay shouted, but to no avail - he had hung up. She thought about it only a minute before grabbing her purse and heading out into the night.
An hour later - only in New York were their traffic hangups at 2 a.m. - Lindsay was climbing the steps of Danny's fourth floor walkup. When she reached his door she hesitated briefly before she reached out and knocked. When he didn't answer, she knocked again.
"Danny? C'mon I know you're in there. I'm worried about you. You called me for a reason, so let me in, and let's talk."
After a few minutes of knocking, she finally gave up. Sighing, she turned to make her way downstairs when the door opened.
"What are you doing here, Montana?" Danny looked exhausted. His hair stuck out in every direction, and his eyes were heavy and bloodshot.
"I'm worried about you, we're all worried about you." When Danny turned and walked into his apartment, Lindsay followed. "You don't return my calls, then when you finally call, all I get is a couple of smart remarks and you hang up again. You obviously had something to say to me, and I want to hear it, Danny. Let me help you."
"Moment of weakness, too much scotch. Hell, Montana, I don't know why I called, but it's late, and we both need our sleep."
"From the look of things, you haven't been doing any sleeping."
Danny walked over to the window overlooking the city and leaned against its frame. "I guess I thought I wanted to talk, but what's there to say, and what good would it do? Louie's dead, and all the words in the world aren't going to bring him back."
"And moping around here, drinking yourself into oblivion, shutting your friends out is going to? Your brother wanted what was best for you, that's why he pushed you away years ago and that's why he taped those idiots confessing to murder. Do you think he'd like to see you here, like this?"
Danny suddenly turned on Lindsay, advancing on her, forcing her to step back until she was against the wall. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't know that my brother is dead because of me?" He reached out, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You don't think that when I do sleep, all I see is his face? You don't think I know that maybe I'm not worth it?"
The outburst seemed to take what was left of his energy and his hands dropped to his sides. Head bowed, a sob ripped loose from his chest. He tried to turn away but Lindsay grabbed his shoulders and pulled him toward her. He shook his head and tried to pull away. "I can't do this …"
Lindsay put her arms around him. She understood his pain, knew all too well what it felt like to lose someone you love, and feel guilty as hell about it. "Danny, let it go."
He sagged against her as sobs began to wrack his body. She held him close, slowly sinking to the ground with him. They sat on the floor, Danny wrapped in her arms, for a long time, Lindsay willing him her strength. He shifted, raising his head and looking her eyes, which filled with tears at the sight of the pain in his. "I'm sorry, Danny."
He stared at her for a moment, then reached out and brushed the tears from her cheek. His hand lingered on her cheek. Lindsay took an unsteady breath. "You are worth it, Danny. Louie knew that. We all know that."
Danny's eyes welled up again, and Lindsay pulled him to her. After a moment, he pulled back again, reaching up to cup her face in his hands, kissing her forehead. When their eyes met once again, something changed, sending a current through both of them. "Danny …" Lindsay whispered, before his lips met hers.
The feelings that coursed through Lindsay were like nothing she had ever felt before. While her mind kept telling her to stop, that he was hurting, that this wasn't right, her heart kept pulling her toward him as their kisses deepened. With fevered hands, they pulled at each other's clothes, stumbling toward the bedroom. Danny worshipped her body, touching her gently but urgently. Their world stopped as their heated touch and whispers pushed them way from the pain to a place neither had been before.
TBC
I'm not good at love scenes! Hope you don't mind the Harlequinn angle.
