Disclaimer: Not mine. They're CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer. I also started to run out of Moody Blues lyrics so these ones are from Bruce Hornsby.

Spoilers: I hope you know the drill. But I think I'm moving farther and farther away from the possibility of actually having any spoilers. I'm off in my own little world.

They say hey little boy you can't go
Where the others go
'Cause you don't look like they do
Said hey old man how can you stand
To think that way
Did you really think about it
Before you made the rules
He said, Son

That's just the way it is
Some things will never change
That's just the way it is
But don't you believe them

Bang! Danny heard the shots and looked over to where Lindsay stood. He heard the sound of the gunfire as though in slow-motion. He saw Lindsay's eyes, wide with surprise. He watched as the first bullet hit her, blood blossoming forth like a soda can that had been shaken and then opened. He looked at her and silently watched her go down. She whispered one word – Danny.

He heard a deep-throated laugh, sounding more like a bark. He looked over to the window and saw the shooter. He looked into the face of the man, and saw Sonny Sassone staring back at him. If Lindsay was dead then he didn't care what happened to him. He had already lost his brother. He looked back at the shooter, who was no longer Sonny. It was his own father, staring back at him, holding the gun pointed at Danny's chest.

"You never done right by me. You betrayed the family. You don't deserve to live." Joey Messer pulled the trigger and Danny felt a pain in his chest, utterly unreal. His own father shooting him? Danny fell down to the ground next to Lindsay, and closed his eyes. That was it. He was going to die here. He looked up one last time to see a figure standing over him, looking at him.

"Boom." Said his father, as he pulled the trigger once again.

---------------

Danny woke with a start. He was soaked in a cold sweat, Lindsay's bed sheets stuck to his cheek. He peeled his face away and sat up. His glasses were askew, so he took them off for a moment and kneaded his watery eyes.

Danny looked at Lindsay. Then he looked at his watch. This wasn't right. She should be awake by now. He flagged down a nurse that was walking by.

"Do you know why she isn't awake?" He demanded. "She should be awake. Dr. Boldt said she would wake up as soon as the anesthetic wore off. She should be awake!" Danny was getting more and more frustrated with the inability of the nurse to answer his questions.

"I'll go get Dr. Boldt for you." Replied the nurse quietly. She just wanted to get out of the room. She had seen that cop in a hospital bed of his own recently, and she didn't want to get him angry. After all, he did have a gun.

Danny immediately felt sorry that he had been so angry at the nurse. It wasn't her fault, she didn't know. Danny sighed and grabbed Lindsay's hand in his own. Lord knew he was going to feel so much better when Lindsay was awake and in his arms once more.

---------------

Jason Flack was worried. He was normally not a guy who got worried or stressed easily. It was a trait that made him such a good paramedic. He could stay calm in almost any situation, thereby finding the best course of action. But this was not another nameless person he was trying to save. This was Danny Messer. One of his best friends, a guy who had been like a brother to him, practically lived out of the same house as him for years while he had gone to high school with Don. Jason knew that Danny did not have an easy childhood. Growing up in a neighborhood where there were drug addicts on every corner was not good. But it was even worse when the FBI routinely had men sit outside your house, watching your every move. But even that can be dealt with of you are innocent and have nothing to hide. It's a different story when you are hiding something though. And Danny knew all about hiding.

Danny's household was rough. He went to a little run down elementary school, quickly making ties with the kids of crime bosses. His older brother Louie was never much help. Every kid who lived in that area of town wanted out. Very few actually made it out though. Danny had his chance through baseball. But the lure of the gangs was strong. Louie was sucked in by the time he was sixteen. Danny was never quite like his older brother though, no matter how much he tried to be.

While Louie was never in the household, Danny stayed home to take care of his mother. An abusive letch was all he had for a father. His mother gave him a gift when he turned fifteen though – a chance to go to a good school. Danny sat up straight and combed his hair when he found out he has a chance to go to a good private school. Who would have thought a Messer would ever go to a place like this?

Jason remembered his first meeting with Danny Messer. He was thirteen, and his big brother Don had brought his friend Danny over for dinner. Danny sat there, real nervous looking. His father, Don Flack Sr. looked none to happy about the friendship either. Then Jason heard the argument later between Don and their father.

"His father is in organized crime for God's sake Don! Stay away from him! He should not be in the same school as you. You are a cop's son. You come from a well-respected family, and I do not want you getting mixed up with a boy like him!"

"He's not like his brother or his father Dad! He just wants a chance! And I'm not going to ignore him just because he might harm your reputation!"

It wasn't long after that conversation that Danny became almost a permanent fixture in the Flack home, using them as a way to escape the realities of his own life at home. Were you to ask Danny what his address was, he may have given you the Flacks'. That was home. And the Flacks' took him in as though he was their third son. Whether it was from pity, or remorse, sadness, or just plain tolerance, Jason never knew. But he knew that Danny was as much a brother to him as Don was. And now, years later, Danny was still trying to run from his past. He now held a respectable job, was a law-enforcement officer, a keeper of the peace. He helped solve crimes that people like his father committed. But it wasn't enough to keep him from his past, and Jason watched Danny helplessly. He watched Danny fighting off the demons that had haunted him for so long. And there was nothing he could do about it.

---------------

"Hey, Flack!" Stella ran after him, trying to catch him before he got in the elevator.

"Oh. Hey Stella."

"Are you okay?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Mac just took my statement, and I just... I don't know."

He looked into her eyes, and Stella felt his pain. It was every cop's worst nightmare to see one of your own, especially a friend, go down in the line of duty. It was even worse than that when you feel you may have been able to do something. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder as they walked into the elevator.

"I just... I keep trying to remember if there was something else I could have done. I wish I could have done something."

Stella pulled him into a hug, trying to make him relax a little. "Lindsay's going to make a full recovery Don, it'll be fine."

Flack felt the warmth of Stella's body next to him and held her tightly. When she finally pulled back, she was looking at him with those bright green eyes, and he leaned forward. She closed her eyes as their lips met. Whether they remained like that for a moment or a life time was a mystery to Stella, but she was amazed at how soft and tender the kiss had been. The elevator bell dinged and the doors opened. They broke apart, as Stella left.

"I guess I'll uh..." she didn't know what to say. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Thanks Stel."

----------------

"Detective Messer?"

"Ah! Dr. Boldt! You told me that she'd be awake. Why isn't she? What's wrong?" Danny blurted this out very quickly and wondered whether the doctor had even heard what he said. But apparently Dr. Boldt was faster than he looked, because he responded easily to Danny's rushed questions.

"The anesthetic has worn off, but after such a major surgery, it isn't surprising that she is still asleep. Her body needs to sleep to catch up, figure out what is going on. She'll wake up soon, but you need to give her time."

Danny stood staring at the doctor with his mouth hanging open. "Sorry about ambushing you like that Doc. I guess I'm just stressed, and worried, and my temper's on a short string these days."

"Don't worry about it Detective."

"Please call me Danny. Detective makes it sound like I'm on duty."

"Sure. Now listen Danny, when Lindsay wakes up, she is sure to be disoriented, and may be extremely confused about the incident. Be patient with her, and let her remember things in her own time. Don't force it upon her."

Danny nodded, and they said their farewells. Danny walked back into Lindsay's room and sat in the chair beside her bed that had become his home for the time being. He gently held her hand and whispered to her. "Doc says you're going to be okay. You were lucky. You just need your sleep. Don't worry. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise. I love you."

---------------

Mac sat at his desk. His ever-present headache was getting worse instead of going away. So much for taking that Ibuprofen. A lot of good it did. He looked down at the report on his desk, every now and then a name would jump out at him and he would read a little further. Flack's statement was concise, to the point, and very descriptive. Mac shuddered as he read about the shooting, finally understanding exactly what had happened. He was also disgusted. Somehow, the suspect had made it back to the crime scene and into the room. It should have been cordoned off so that nobody would be able to get in. And then he realized his mistake. If the fire escape was how he got out, it was probably how he got in...

---------------

Flack walked through the hallways of the hospital, trying to find Lindsay's room. He found Danny sitting next to her; sound asleep when he walked in. Flack sat down next to Danny and kneaded his watering eyes. His body was screaming for sleep, it had been an exhausting day. He drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Flack was woken minutes later to hear a mumbling voice in Italian. He looked next to him to find Danny, thrashing and flinching next to him.

"Fermare per colpire lei! Non dolerla!"

Flack woke up the thrashing Danny, and saw a young boy looking back at him from behind the glasses. Then he was gone and Danny Messer was back.

Flack knew what Danny had been dreaming about. There was no need to ask. He just patted him on the back.

"You need me to grab you some food?" Flack asked, trying to deflect the attention away from Danny's nightmare.

"Thanks. That would be great. I haven't eaten in hours. And Flack, thanks for..."

Flack cut him off. "Don't worry about it. Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese coming up."

Danny watched Flack leave and felt grateful to him. Flack knew how bad Danny had it as a kid, and never pushed him when he had these recurring nightmares. Flack was a best friend and a brother to Danny. All the Flacks were.

Danny squeezed Lindsay's hand once more and whispered "I love you," again.

His head shot up and his whole body tensed. He looked down. Lindsay had moved her hand, and was now holding tightly on to his.

---------------

Mac was just packing up from his little excursion to the crime scene when he saw it. Dropped into the crack between building and metal was a DVD. It was wedged there and it took several minutes for Mac to get it out, but he finally did it. This was it. This was the piece of evidence that the shooter was willing to kill for, and he, Mac had it. This could be the case-breaker. He put it in an evidence bag and started to leave when his phone rang. The caller ID said Stella was calling him. He pressed talk.

"Taylor."

"Mac! Patrol just called, they have a suspect in custody matching the description given by Flack of the shooter! They've got him, Mac, they've got him! He's got a bullet wound in his leg; Flack must have hit him when he was at the scene. This is it Mac!"

Mac heard the words and ran out of the building at a speed that would shame an Olympic runner. He wanted to be the first one to take a look at the man who had shot one of his CSI's.

A/N: There is no real need to know what is being said in Italian. It was just something I did on the spur of the moment. If you feel the need to translate, go ahead. I also apologize to anyone who actually speaks Italian because I am sure that those free translation sites are not entirely accurate.

So please review, hit the blue button, as all writers know, reviews are what keep us going. Or is that just me?