Chapter Eight

Thursday, 6.18 am

Mac slept straight through the night in Danny's ward, never waking up once. Images of Howard Jones, Danny, Peyton, even Reid and Claire flitted in and out of his dreams.

Mac felt split in between two worlds. He could see Claire's beautiful face in front of him, so much like Reid's. At the same time, he could hear the beeping of the heart monitor and the regular gasps of air from the ventilator. These sounds felt quite far away. Mac registered dimly that he was slowly waking up but he kept his eyes shut tight. The night's sleep helped a bit but he still felt weight-of-the-world weary.

Beep… beep… beep…

"Cough."

Beep… beep… beep…

"Cough… cough…"

Mac felt even more awake now. The coughing he just heard definitely was not from his dream. He opened his eyes.

"Cough…"

Mac turned to gaze at Danny and his heart leapt.

"Danny..."

Danny's eyes opened, but just a bit. He continued to cough, almost choking. Mac knew why. Danny was breathing on his own now and no longer needed the ventilator.

"Danny. Just hold on, ok? I'm gonna get a doctor." Mac rested a reassuring hand quickly on his shoulder and rushed out of the room towards the nurses' station. Mac tried hard not to smile too widely as he practically shouted gleefully to the nurse at the desk.

She had quickly notified a doctor, who thankfully was here despite the early hour. Mac followed him back into Danny's room, all the while thinking with utmost relief… He's ok… he's going to be just fine…

The doctor removed the tube of the ventilator from Danny's throat and gave him a quick check-up, "You're going to be alright, Detective Messer. We'll have you up in no time." Then, bestowing Mac a smile, he went out of the room.

Mac went up to Danny and said, "Feeling ok?"

Danny's eyes remained less than cooperative to stay open, though it didn't really make a difference, seeing that he couldn't see much without his glasses. He opened them and closed them again, replying with his voice a little hoarse and barely above a whisper, "I've had better days… but I'm… ok…"

Mac smiled, "I'll let the others know."

Danny nodded. Being still pumped with pain killers, he drifted off to sleep. Mac pulled out his cell phone and began dialing. It was still early but Mac was sure none of his team would be too annoyed with being woken up for this.

10.20 am

Sirens blaring… gun shots… an older man with graying hair stared down at him with a mocking smile… pain in his neck, down his side… a hand holding his… a voice he knew so well… 'Chiederò al dio di trasmettere i suoi angeli, a sooth la vostra stanco anima…'

Danny opened his eyes. Through blurred vision, he could make out the white ceiling above him, lit with sun light streaming in the window.

Though his neck and abdomen were throbbing every so often, Danny felt quite good. Wide awake, definitely, seeing that he was unconscious for the better part of the past three days of his life.

He reached out his right arm towards the side table and his wounds stung, despite the fact Danny was quite heavily dosed with morphine. His hand closed onto his glasses and he put them on.

For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. I'm alive…

Days before, he was also staring at a ceiling. The ceiling of the crime lab to be exact, wondering numbly whether he'll survive those gun shots. He did. Was he surprised? Thankful? Amazed? None of the above? He didn't really know…

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. He turned his head slowly, so as to avoid further provocation of his neck wound. Stella entered the room, closely followed by Mac, Lindsay, Hawkes and Flack.

Stella set down the large bouquet of flowers that she was holding onto the side table and said, "Hey, survivor…"

She pulled him into a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. So did Lindsay. Hawkes and Flack gave him tight handshakes while Mac stood in the corner, smiling. Danny could sense the relief emitting from each and every one of them.

Hawkes chirped in amusedly, "Here's Superman. Not even two bullets can stop him!"

"How long have I been out anyway? What's happened?" Danny asked. Mac hadn't talked to him about the details that morning.

Stella spoke up first, "About 3 days. We caught the guy just yesterday…"

She exchanged glances with Mac who nodded. Stella continued, "His name is Howard Jones. Ring any bells?"

Danny thought for a moment, "Don't think so…"

"He's son was convicted for double homicide thanks to your testimony three years ago."

"So he hunted me down in revenge? Great guy." Danny said in an attempt at humour although the mood in the room turned slightly tensed as his team mates stood by, wondering how Danny was going to react to hearing about his shooter.

Mac said quietly, "He used the gun his son used during the crime back in '04…"

Danny nodded slowly, taking that in. He appreciated a lot that they were not sugar-coating anything and telling him the facts there and then.

Not wanting to think about this just yet, Danny cast around for a different subject, "Aren't you guys supposed to be at work?"

"We're actually on our way to some crime scenes, actually," Lindsay replied.

"Yeah, but we decided a quick detour will be fine," grinned Flack, "Just to piss off Hillbourne and the other big guys."

There was a tap on the door and in walked Danny's parents. "Oh, Danny!" his mother exclaimed joyfully, tears in her eyes.

Mac had called them, told them about Danny waking up, about arresting his shooter. Curtis Messer looked at Mac, his blue eyes so much like Danny's. He gave him a small nod, which Mac understood immediately. Thank you.

"We'll better go now." Mac said.

They nodded. Stella said, "We'll come back later, Danny."

"Thanks, guys." Danny said. He couldn't find the right words to tell them how much it meant to him to see them there. He hoped these two words were enough.

They all smiled. They understood.

TBC