Seized
Summary: Don Flack is first to a murder scene and awaits the NYPD to join him. But as he waits, someone grabs him.

Mrs. Flack stood emotionless staring through the window separating her son and herself. Her face remained still, eyes narrow and lips pursed. She watched as her son breathed easily, the monitor he was hooked to beeping periodically, normally. The woman closed her eyes for a moment, then looked up at Mac, who was standing at her side. "How?"

Mac pursed his lips for a split second. "A couple of nights ago we received a call for a body in downtown Queens. Your son was first to arrive at the scene. Most he did was get out of his car and took a look at the body before being dragged off into the alley; at least, that's what the evidence told us." He stopped for a moment. "When we arrived, we found his car, with a cup of hot coffee sitting in the cup holder, and some evidence of him being dragged out, being knocked out, and being taken."

Mrs. Flack frowned. "And no one told me?"

"I had… assigned someone to call; I suppose no one got through or didn't leave a message…" Mac lied carefully. He never wanted to contact the woman; he hoped in his mind that they would of found Don safe and sound before anything like this happened. But he was wrong and made a mistake.

Mrs. Flack, however, nodded in understanding. "Go on."

Mac cleared his throat. "My team and I worked endlessly to find your son, Mrs. Flack." She showed no emotion. "Judging by the bruising on his body and condition he's in, he fought hard, but was… thoroughly tortured." His voice cracked on the word 'tortured'. Mrs. Flack nodded.

"I could tell. And Don can't feel anything right now? No pain?"

"No, ma'am."

She gave a small smile. "That's good to hear. He's alive, breathing with no problem, his heart is functioning fine, and he is in no pain." She looked back at the window. "That's good." By the tone of her voice, Mac figured she knew that her son was going to be okay; he figured that was why she wasn't too worried. Like her son, Mrs. Flack was a strong person.

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The days turned to weeks, the CSI team grew tired of waiting for Don to pull through. They had, however, solved the case with David McDowell and Seth Lee; after the deaths of Seth's parents, the only living relative was a distant cousin, Dave, who became guardian. Ever since Seth had moved in, Dave had abused physically and mentally until he turned from Seth and onto drugs. Once the drugs had him, there was no stopping him.

Carlos Hernandez just provided and ended up in a body bag before his time. He owned the small apartment where the marijuana plants were found, and some of the marijuana was found in David's apartment, connecting the two for sure. Michael Stewart was the one who introduced David and Carlos, and assisted in the kidnapping of Don Flack; he drove the car, where they found his blood in the driver's side of the car, connecting him to the crime. The angle of the wound through David's head was consistent if Seth was standing from where they found his body. The angle of the wound under Seth's chin was consistent with him bringing the gun up and shooting himself. After a comparison, they found the bullets were both from Seth's gun.

Mac closed the case on a bad note, wishing all those deaths never occurred or any of the violence for that manner. He still waited for Flack to recover anxiously.

Soon, almost a month from the day Mac spoke at Don, he got a call from the hospital.

"Hello?" he asked hopefully.

"Mr. Taylor, Donald Flack is awake."

"Thank you. How is he?"

"He's asking for you, mostly. His father a little, I think his mother. A man named Danny."

Mac smiled to himself, but frowned when he asked the next question. "Does he seem in… pain?"

"Most likely. That bullet nearly killed him. Someone should come down here and talk him into taking it easy; he's been very animated today."

"Thank you, Doctor."

There was a grunt, with a small 'goodbye' from the doctor before he hung up. Mac placed the phone on the receiver, staring at the table. After a moment of contemplating, he stood, took his coat from the back of his chair, and walked towards his door. On his way out, he saw Danny walking towards his direction. Mac smiled at him, brows raised.

"Don is awake," he blurted before Danny could say anything. Danny's eyes grew slightly, then he also grinned.

"Finally!" Danny nearly shouted.

"You can go put those files on my desk; we have to go see Don."

The blond man beamed a toothy smile and raced to Mac's office. A moment after, he returned to where Mac still stood. Both men walked at a fast pace down the hallway.

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Don gritted his teeth together, rubbing a hand on his left side where he had three broken ribs, then moving the hand to the other side where only one was broken. His chest gave a sharp pain each time he took a breath in. The dark-haired man had his eyes closed as he tenderly rubbed a finger over the patch covering the still healing bullet wound. He cursed softly, laying his head heavily on the pillow.

He didn't notice the door opening and the two men entering. After a moment, though, he opened his eyes to see Mac and Danny standing around his bed, looking hopefully down at him. When he realized who it was, a smile covered his lips. "Hey, guys," he offered, then stopped and laid his hand on his chest, sighing heavily.

"Easy," Danny ordered, taking a seat in a white chair. Mac pulled another over and took it for himself. Don looked from one to the other, still a smile on his face.

"Doc says I've been out for… a month?" he asked. Mac nodded.

"Coma."

"Bad thing was that I could hear what everyone was saying, like I was stuck in that area between sleep and awake." His eyes met Mac's for a split second. "But I couldn't respond."

"We're just glad you're awake." Danny smiled. "Everyone at the crime lab came down during the month. Even Sid and Adam."

Don smiled. "Makes a man feel good hearing that people care for him." He leaned into the pillow. In the brief silence Danny's phone rang out, and he answered it quickly with a hello.

"Danny, where are you?" It was Sheldon.

"Hospital, talking to Don."

There was silence on the other line, then, "He's awake?"

"Yeah."

Don grinned; he would shout a hello, but his chest still smarted. Sheldon continued, "Well, we have work to do. We can go visit Don later, afterwards, okay?"

Danny gave a whine of protest, but agreed. He hung up, stood, and looked down at Don. "Hawkes summons me. Mac, you'll stay here, right?" he asked.

Mac nodded. "Yeah, I'll stay."

After a moment, Danny leaned forward and patted Don softly on the shoulder, gave a wink, then retreated out the door. There was a pause of silence between Mac and Don, who met eyes for a moment. Don attempted to sit more straight, but it only gave a jolt of pain running through his entire body. The man gave a small cry of agony and sunk back to his earlier position. Mac switched chairs, moving closer to Don. "Don't move around. You're still healing."

Don was grinning a little to himself. "You sound like a mother."

The comment made Mac smile too. "Just a concerned collea…" Mac stopped himself, lacing his hands in his lap. "Just a concerned friend."

The younger man stopped for a moment, his smile lowering and his eyes fixed on Mac. He bit the inside of his mouth for a moment. "When I was… out… I noticed you were the first one to visit." Don shrugged his shoulders. "I heard what you said when you visited too."

Mac rose his brows. "The doctors said you would."

"Told me the whole team was doing everything to find me." His eyes were beginning to well up, and his voice was starting to shake. "I was about to end it all…" he whispered. "I had the blade against my wrist, but I just couldn't press hard enough. That… guy got into my head and…" He stopped for a second. "He told me that none of the team was looking; told me that no one wanted a liability and I listened to him." By that time, tears were rolling down his cheeks; Don turned his gaze from Mac and focused on the wall. "I-I'm not strong, Mac. I was scared… I fought because I didn't want to d-die there… And now I'm crying like some kid…" One of his hands was covering his face now and sobs were racking him. Don was quivering while the tears rolled in streams.

On the other hand, Mac had stood and sat on the edge of the hospital bed beside Don, who still wouldn't look at him. Mac slowly put his arms around the crying man and pulled him close, holding him there with a firm grip. He could feel Don continue to quiver, and holding him was only making him shake more. For a while they sat there, Mac only holding him put. Don finally put his arms around Mac's waist and buried his face into the crook of his neck, fully letting the tears out. The cries were silent, only tears without noise escaping his mouth. The older man held a hand to the back of Don's head and rubbed his back in small circles.

When Don stopped crying, he didn't pull back; he stayed holding onto Mac, balling the back of his shirt into his fists and gaining a firmer grip. Mac rested his chin on the top of Don's head and pulled both arms around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry…" Don murmured, but kept his head in place.

Mac turned so his cheek was resting on the top of Don's head. "Don't worry about it."

Gradually the younger man pulled from Mac, releasing his grip on the back of his shirt and sitting up. The top of Mac's shirt was damp; his brushed at it unconsciously and smiled. "You probably feel a little better now, right?"

Don nodded, wiping his eyes with the base of his palm. He forced a smile. "I only wish I could of done that without embarrassing myself," he added.

"You haven't embarrassed yourself; we're the only two here," Mac ensured. "And it's good that you haven't forgotten anything; most coma victims loose some short term memory."

"The names aren't clear. But I'd rather have forgotten some of the actions than remember all of it," griped Don, leaning back into the pillow. Mac moved back to the plastic chair, allowing Don to stretch out more. The younger cop rubbed his chest tenderly as he moved down. "So the others came by?" he asked, veering off subject.

Mac gave a small nod. "When Lindsay first came, she couldn't bear to look at you in your condition. She ended up walking off with tears in her eyes."

"Now you're making me feel bad."

"Don't worry; she eventually came in."

Don grew silent for a little while, sat back and listened to the heart monitor and his own breathing. Then he turned back to face Mac with a question in his eyes. "What happened to that kid?" he asked, knowing that if Mac processed the scene, he would of met the kid. But when he saw the look in Mac's eyes, he knew something was wrong. "What happened to him, Mac?"

The ex-marine pursed his lips and tapped his forefinger on his upper thigh. "Seth was the one who saved you," he began. "David would of shot you again if he didn't do what he did."

"Mac…?"

"Seth shot David dead on the floor behind where the EMS personnel found you."

"What happened to him?"

Mac sighed deeply. "After shooting David, Seth turned the gun around, placed the barrel under his chin, and fired."

A small gasp escaped Don's lips, and he narrowed his brows together. "He shot himself?"

Mac nodded. "But he saved your life, Don."

"Did I miss his… funeral?"

"Unfortunately, you did. But you can still go visit his grave if you want," Mac told him. Don looked down at his hand on the bed, tapping the tips of his fingers on the bed. He bit his bottom lip lightly, then gave a soft moan and slapped his hand down.

"When can I get out?"

"Doctor said in a week or so, to allow time for you to heal." Mac grinned. "But you need to take it easy. The main reason the doctor called us down here was because you were animated and you needed to calm down."

"I'd say I'm pretty… tranquil at this moment." Don laughed lightly.

"Yes, right now you are." He paused to look at his watch. "Everyone has work to do, even me, so I'd have to get out of here soon. I'll ask if we can bring you in some food instead of this horrible hospital food they serve here."

"I would appreciate that a whole lot."

Mac stood, wiping off the seat of his pants. Then he moved forward, grabbing Don into a quick embrace. "Someone will be back soon," he told him. "Get rest, okay?"

Don nodded into Mac's chest, since that was where his head was currently situated. They broke, then Mac walked towards the door. Don watched him leave, then laid back into the pillow once he was gone with a sigh.