A/N: I apologize profusely for taking my sweet blasted time with this. The organization of this chapter was giving me trouble. Heck, endings in general give me trouble. Sorry if this ending seems a bit fast but I didn't want to keep the story dragging out. This is all wrap up now.

Ch. 10

Lindsey looked up when she heard the clatter of multiple footsteps enter the waiting room, and straightened on seeing Mac, Hawkes, Stella, and Flack heading her way.

" Any word?" Mac asked, sitting next to Lindsey with Stella taking the chair on the other side. Hawkes and Flack remained standing. Lindsey actually wanted to join them. The chairs were hard, and agitation made her nerves hum. But she'd been cajoled to sit by a nurse who thought she was going to collapse, and had probably been right. Going at it with her agitation was an exhaustion keeping her mind and senses numb. She shook her head in response to Mac's question, but it took her a moment to form words.

" Um... I think they're checking him over... I-I..."

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and her heart lurch.

" Lindsey," it was Stella's hand, " it's all right. He'll be all right. Just take it easy, it's over now."

" Maybe we should get a doctor to look you over," Mac said, but Lindsey shook her head vehemently.

" No.. no, Mac I'm fine..."

Mac leaned forward enough to catch Lindsey's wandering gaze and hold it. " No, you're not. I want you and Sheldon both checked out. After what you've been through, I wouldn't leave anything to chance at this point."

" Mac's right, Linds."

Lindsey looked up at an exhausted but fidgety Hawkes, both hands on his hips and one leg twitching. If Lindsey didn't know any better, she could have sworn he looked ready to bolt. If not bolt then start beating his fist against the wall. It's what she wanted to do. If her body went any more numb she could easily pass all this off as a dream – if she didn't pass out first.

Lindsey nodded vacantly in assent.

Stella talked to a nurse at the front desk who was quick about fetching two doctors for a quick assessment of Hawkes and Lindsey. They were taken to separate rooms, and Lindsey had to force herself to sit still as the female doctor took vitals, checking heart rate, pupil dilation, blood pressure and a whole host of other things Lindsey didn't think necessary. When finished, the news was that Lindsey's blood pressure and heart rate were elevated (no surprises there) and she was slightly dehydrated but nothing a cup of water couldn't fix. She was given water, and sent back out into the waiting room where she found Hawkes drinking from a cup of his own.

Lindsey walked up next to him, refusing to sit this time around. But after thirty minutes passed, exhaustion was winning out over agitation, and she finally relented to sitting.

Another minute later and a middle-aged man in a white lab coat headed toward them.

" You people with Messer?" he asked, seeing as how they were the only ones in the room at the moment. Those sitting stood, and those standing turned.

" Yeah," Mac replied. " How is he?"

" Stabilized. He's got a lung infection that's escalated to a nasty case of pneumonia and we've had to drain his lungs which isn't a very pleasant process. But it's helped to make room in his lungs, and along with oxygen he's breathing more comfortably. X-rays revealed that he has two cracked ribs, and has severe bruising to his chest but nothing life threatening. He's dehydrated, which I'm not surprised by because of the fever. He's also malnourished which is what I wanted to ask you about. I was told that he was in a hostage situation?"

Mac nodded, scrunching his brow in consternation. " Yeah, but I doubt long enough to become malnourished."

Sheldon raised his hand to grab the doctor's attention. " Danny's been sick for the past couple of days, and when we went to see him he told me he hasn't been able to keep any food down."

Both the doctor's eyebrows lifted. " He's been throwing up his food?"

Sheldon nodded. " He could barely get out of bed, too. When we found him, he was on the floor and couldn't get up."

The doctor looked down at the clipboard he was carrying. " Huh. Okay we started running some tests, including blood-work, but won't know the results for a while. Now, mind you this is just a theory, but one I thought I'd share since it couldn't hurt to have it checked out. In fact, it might be wise. My review of Mr. Messer's medical history tells me that besides for broken bones, wounds, and the rare cold, he's other wise a very healthy individual. Used to smoke but quit and has kept his lungs clean since then. I don't see him getting an infection this severe unless something caused it. Asbestos, a heavy pollutant, chemicals... Has there been any construction going on near where he lives or works? Renovation? Is the place where he lives clean or run down?"

Some in the group shrugged, others shook their heads.

" Not to my knowledge," Mac said.

The doctor nodded. " Well, we'll know more when the tests come back. In the meantime, we're attempting to bring his fever down and he's resting comfortably. We have him in ICU for now, but as soon as his temperature comes down we'll move him to where you'll be able to visit. For now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to hold off on visitations. I need to know who to contact in case of an emergency..."

Mac lifted his hand. " Me."

" And you are...?"

" Mac Taylor, his boss."

" Does Mr. Messer have any family that should be contacted as well?"

Mac nodded. " Yeah, I can give you that info."

Mac and the doctor moved away from the group as the doctor gathered the needed information.

"His place looked pretty clean to me," Flack said. "If you don't count the mess those bastards made."

The relief of the moment having washed away remnants of adrenaline now left Lindsey in an odd state of both exhaustion and agitation. Were she at home, right now, she would have crawled into bed with the intent to sleep for days, and yet would be unable to close her eyes. She knew this as a fact from days of tough cases that left her body spent but her mind on automatic over drive. What was even more strange was how the mind kept working when trying to sleep, while awake the mind stumbled as though trying to dream. Even now her mind was wandering like an ambling drunk over everything that happened, from the chaos to mundane conversations concerning best dates ever and ants.

Ants – Danny had mentioned something about an ant infestation, there one day and gone the next. Adrenaline snapped back into Lindsey's body, enough to get her straightening and her mind clearing.

"Stella," Lindsey said. "We need to go back to Danny's apartment."

Stella looked at her in mixed sympathy and resolve. "Lindsey, you can't process the scene..."

Lindsey shook her head. "No, that's not why. Which is why I want you to come with me since you can process. I just want to check something. It has nothing to do with what happened there, I promise, so it won't affect the case either way. I think I may know why Danny's so sick."

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Lindsey and Stella stepped gingerly over the police tape and around markers already placed beside footprints in the carpet, on the kitchen floor, and the massive pool of blood that would leave a stain on the floor. Lindsey made a mental promise that once the scene was cleared and the crime scene clean up crew had finished clearing the mess up, she would come back to scour for and scrub anything they happened to miss; erase completely everything that had happened here.

Unless Danny decided the memories weren't worth staying in the place. Lindsey felt she had come to know Danny enough to also know he wouldn't dream of moving. The man was stubborn, and he wasn't going to let a bunch of home invaders drive him from his place. The least Lindsey could do was wipe away any vestiges of what happened for him to come back to.

Someone was already there processing – placing markers and flashing pictures. Stella explained their presence, and Lindsey pointed out the best places to swab. The kitchen counter along the edge, around the sink, in the cupboards, and finally the air vent - one swab at a time. When they were finished, they headed out, but not before Lindsey cast one last look toward the bedroom where Danny's quilt and blanket were crumpled on the floor. For the first time since stepping back in the apartment, Lindsey realized it was freezing. In all the chaos, she'd forgotten to close the window.

Funny how the unimportant things become important for no reason. She would have to make sure it was shut when she cleaned. She wouldn't want Danny freezing his butt off.

Stella and Lindsey had a quick talk with the landlord, then headed back to the lab.

The talk with the landlord and processing the swabs confirmed what Lindsey had suspected. Stella called an emergency conference in the labs, surrounded by the results. When everyone had arrived, she let Lindsey do the talking.

"We know why Danny's sick," Lindsey said. "Sometime around a month and a half ago the apartment next door to Danny's had an ant infestation. A pretty nasty one according to the super of the building that had him calling professionals instead of dealing with it himself. A number of chemicals were used, including powders and fumigation. Now, also according to the super, these so-called professionals used every precaution during fumigation. However, after Stella went over Danny's kitchen, we found traces of chemicals not uncommon to the kind of chemicals used..." she allowed herself a smug, but also somewhat bitter smirk, "to kill vermin. The heavy duty stuff normally only handled by 'professional' exterminators. We found it all over his kitchen, and our theory is that the exterminators the super hired weren't as professional as they claimed."

Stella stepped aside to give the others a chance to peek into the microscope. "Traces were small around Danny's kitchen but heavier in his air vent."

Mac looked first, then Hawkes. Flack hung back since he always openly admitted to anything chemical related not making a lick of sense to him.

"Some of the chemicals the exterminators used leaked into the vent," Lindsey continued, "and spread into his kitchen, both in powder and gas form. So not only was he breathing this stuff in, he was ingesting it as well, both in small enough amounts to make him sick over time rather than all at once."

"What about the person who lives in that room?" Mac asked.

"It's unoccupied," Stella said. "And Danny's vent is the only one connected to that room, so he's the only one who got sick."

"And we already contacted Danny's doctor about it," Lindsey finished. "They say it'll make a bigger difference now that they know what to look for."

Mac smiled. "It always does. Good job you two."

Stella smiled back. "Thank Lindsey. She's the one who had the epiphany."

Lindsey shrugged modestly, flashing a sheepish smile. "Thank delirious babbling, actually. I recalled Danny having said something about ants. One of those 'something good coming out of something bad' things." It was always funny how that worked.

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After Lindsey's revelation explaining Danny's condition, Mac and Hawkes left to finish their journey to Mac's office. The tension over Lindsey's and Danny's situation, then Danny's health, sifted out like sand through a funnel. The only tension remaining involved the consequences. Sheldon had stolen evidence, and that was something that couldn't be ignored.

"Sit," Mac instructed. Sheldon's heart stuttered a little at Mac's unreadable tone. Mac took a seat behind his desk, pulling the disk that Sheldon had left toward him.

"We had the boys down at the computer labs look over the disk."

Sheldon straightened, and for a moment forgot all about consequences. "What did you find?"

"Schematics - blueprints - for homes. High end places with the kind of security one step under Fort Knox. And not just places here, but also homes in Beverly Hills, Chicago, New Hampshire... I did some checking and discovered that the homes on this disk have been robbed, several not that long ago. Except for the blueprints of a house here in New York belonging to a Jeff Clemmons."

Sheldon's eyebrows shot to his scalp. "Jeff Clemmons? Doesn't he own that software company...?"

Mac nodded, "That develops programs like the ones we use to digitally recreate crime scenes. I sent the findings over to the task force. They're setting up a sting operation even now."

Mac slowly sobered, and tension snapped back into Sheldon's body.

"Hawkes, Listen. I probably don't have to tell you that there's going to be an investigation. You stole evidence that you handed over to a suspect, which some might see as consorting and tampering. But I want you to know you did the right thing. People are going to tell you how it should have been handled, that what you did was pretty much tantamount to negotiating with terrorists. But in the end, you did what you felt you had to. Danny and Lindsey are alive because you did, and that's what matters. You also gave us what we needed to track these guys down. So no matter what anyone else says, you did good out there Hawkes. You did right, so don't worry about anything else. I'll make sure the right people come to realize this."

Finally, the last vestiges of tension flitted away, and Sheldon's body sagged. Yes, he knew the situation was far from over, but just knowing that Mac had his back – and approval – gave him hope enough not to cling to trepidation.

"Thanks Mac. Thank you so much."

Epilogue

The house was a set-up, a distraction, which was discovered long after the fact when a tech going over the disk for a third time discovered another set of blueprints hidden behind an encryption. The real target wasn't even located in the city, but farther north out in the country. The house had already been broken into and the thieves gone by the time the information was relayed to the authorities there. Those same authorities had been polite verbally in receiving the info, but their underlying inflection clearly relayed 'your timing sucks, thanks for nothing.'

The IAB came, investigated, subjected Sheldon to grueling interviews with the seeming intent being nothing more that to piss him off. Mac made due on his promise of having Sheldon's back, and made the IAB painfully aware of the details behind why Sheldon had done what he had done. In the end, Sheldon was left off with a slap on the wrist warning that let him know the IAB would be watching him.

"Big whoopty-freakin' do," Danny rasped. He tilted his head back into the pillow and rolled it in Sheldon's direction. "Welcome to the club, pal. I'm surprised they didn't demote your butt back to the morgue."

Hawkes chuckled softly. He was sitting on a stool on one side of Danny's bed, and Lindsey was sitting on the other side.

"Making a copy of that disk saved my ass. I think if I hadn't done that, then – yes – I'd be elbow deep in another dead body."

Danny nodded, then jerked and convulsed with coughing. Lindsey handed him a plastic cup of cold water to help wash the phlegm back down his throat. Danny grimaced and sipped, rubbing his chest that felt as though it had tried to split in half. Coughing was hell, but a lesser evil when compared to the inability to breathe. Lindsey had explained to him about bug poison being the cause for his misery. Hawkes joked about lawsuits against exterminators, but Danny was starting to seriously consider it. Those morons had put him through hell. Danny, however, wasn't that kind of a vindictive guy. Normally all his acts of revenge involved fists, and he sat in courtrooms enough as it was when presenting evidence and finds.

Besides, the majority of him being pissed had another outlet.

"So that SOB Ron's still out there, huh?"

Sheldon nodded solemnly, and Lindsey scowled.

"His real name's Byron," Lindsey said. "According to Kevin, that kid. Kevin didn't know his last name, though. And not to put down the only one of those creeps that was helpful, but he didn't know squat."

"He wouldn't," Sheldon said. " Ron... Byron... said that his crew except for that Elliot guy weren't permanent. Thus the ditching them after he got the disk to make a clean break."

"Bastard," Danny whispered. His throat ached too much to speak any louder.

"Well," Sheldon said, "At least we won't have to worry about him unless he tries to rob another place in the city."

Danny shrugged. "I wouldn't mind another go at him."

Sheldon shook his head and patted Danny's shoulder. "Wait until you're back on your feet first. Now if you two don't mind, I'm starved, and I'm in the mood for something other than what's in a vending machine. I'm thinking Chinese. Lindsey?"

"I could go for some Lo Mein."

"I second that," Danny said.

Sheldon gritted his teeth apologetically. "Sorry, Danny, I'll have to owe you one. You're on a strict diet until your digestion's back up to par."

"Diets are about losing weight. I'm supposed to be gaining. How the hell does drinking crappy milkshakes help that?"

Sheldon patted his shoulder again. "It does, trust me. When you're ready, it's pizza all the way, your choice of toppings."

"You're making me drool, pal."

Sheldon chuckled and headed toward the door.

"Hey Hawkes?"

Sheldon stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks man, for everything. I'm sorry IAB had to give you hell about it."

Sheldon smiled. "No problem, man. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He then left so that it was just Danny and Lindsey. Danny rolled his head in her direction.

"Suppose thanks are in order for you too, Monroe."

Lindsey leaned with her arms folded on the bed rail and her chin resting on her arms. "You think?"

Danny smiled wearily at her. The damn medication always made him too sleepy too fast. "Hell yeah. If you hadn't of been there..." he trailed off at that, dropping his smile. It was a two way street. If she hadn't have been there, she wouldn't have gone through that hell. But if she hadn't have been there, Danny would be dead. He owed her on so many levels there seemed no humanly possible way to ever repay her.

Lindsey reached out to clutch his shoulder that looked bony even through the gown. He wasn't emaciated according to the doctors, but being a lean guy the weight he lost was an unhealthy amount. The moment Danny was back on his feet, he was hitting the batting cages, and upping his basket ball games with Flack to two games a day. He liked exercises that involved motion. Gyms and weight machines had never been his thing – too still.

Being still – well, hell, it made him feel vulnerable. He'd admit that to himself seeing as how he'd come to realize it the hard way.

"I'm glad I was there, Messer," Lindsey said. "Not happy about it, but glad. Someone needed to be there for you."

"Through all that?"

"Especially through all that. You could have died, Danny."

"You could have too."

"Yeah, but you didn't let me, and I didn't let you."

Danny huffed, which his ribs didn't like, and he grimaced against the pain. "I didn't save you."

Lindsey swatted him lightly on the arm. "Yes, you did. You armed me. You gave me the means to protect myself and you, so you could say you saved us both. Face it, Danny, we all saved each other. Just a whole lot of saving." She lifted one hand to swipe at her eyes that had started to shimmer with moisture. "I won't lie, Danny. I never want to go through that again. But if I had to do it over – like Hawkes said – I would. I wouldn't leave you to that."

Danny lifted his languid hand to place it on Lindsey's arm. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. But, to be honestly selfish, I'm glad I wasn't alone."

Lindsey swiped her eyes a second time and chuckled lightly. "You're welcome." She took his hand and placed it back on the bed. "And go to sleep already. It's okay to now."

Danny grinned. "And miss all the teary-eyed, heartfelt apologies and thanks?"

"Sleep, Messer. You need to get better. I promised you a horse riding lesson and I mean to keep that promise."

"Lookin' forward to it Montana."

"Stop calling me that."

Danny let his eyes slide close and his body melt into the warmth of the mattress. "Never."

The End

A/N: Finally! Right? Sorry that it isn't quite the closer you all wanted and that Byron got away. I initially had in mind Byron getting caught, but the way I developed his character screamed about that being a big 'no-no'. He ended up being the kind of guy who thought ahead, so it didn't seem right that he would be caught so easily. Plus I left it open for a possible sequel, though I make no promises for one – can't seem to think of one. If someone else has their own story idea and would like to use Byron, that's cool, but please ask me first.

Also, I'm not sure if lingering chemicals used in exterminations processes would continue to have an affect on someone's health (although I do know that during the extermination process, if there was a leak, they would) and I was too lazy to look it up. However, I know there was an episode – or two – on one of the CSIs that dealt with something similar either with chemicals, molds, and so on, so I just went with it. I'm pretty sure if some type of powder was used, and wasn't cleaned up properly, it could cause health problems.

Anyways, hope you all enjoyed, and sorry again for taking so long.