CHAPTER SEVEN

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Apologies for the late update; RL took an unexpected turn that left me scrambling. :( I'll try to update again sometime next week.

"Call an EMS! Now!" Stella yelled as she made her way quickly, but cautiously toward Mac. He was still breathing, but made no other movement. In the background, Stella could make out Angell screaming out orders

"Mac," Stella called, worry causing her voice to tremble. "Mac."

His breathing was labored and raspy. "Stel..."

"Hold on Mac, just hold on okay?" Stella assessed the damage. A gunshot to the left side which may or may not have punctured a lung. She took the edge of his coat, bundled it up, and pressed hard against the opening of the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. His eyes kept fluttering and Stella's panic rose.

The sound of running heels came her way, revealing a winded Angell. "EMS units have been called and are on their way. Officers checked the surroundings and witnesses, but nothing." She looked perturbed and then relieved as the familiar sounds of the EMS van driving up as close as they could.

Stella relinquished her task to the trained professionals as they flocked around her oldest friend before being distracted by a phone ringing. A paramedic scooped out Mac's cell phone out of his pocket and Stella immediately snatched it, disregarding the fact that her hands were bloody. Not exactly thinking straight, she answered, "Hello?"

"Detective Taylor's not having a good day, is he?" And the caller hung up.

Pulling the phone away from her ear, Stella looked at the display. 333.

"Yo, Danno, you look like crap. Rough night?" Flack strolled into the office, grinning his usual grin. He bit back the rest of his question. Is Linds not taking care of you? Flack kept his tone light and joking knowing that the last thing his friend needed was for others to look at him with sympathetic pity with recent events.

Danny said nothing, merely ran a hand through his hair and kept his gaze on his paperwork. The grin slipped from Flack's face as he took a closer look at his best friend. "Danny?"

Almost as if he had just heard Flack's voice, Danny's head shot up and Flack had to school his face to prevent pure worry from showing. Danny had looked like he'd been through the ringer...twice and then been told his apartment had burnt to the ground with all his possessions in it. "You okay?"

"Fine." Clearing his throat of its hoarseness, Danny sighed. He had not gotten any sleep after he forced himself to walk away from Lindsay's door and from there, he walked; letting his feet take him in whatever direction. He'd ended up at an all-night diner where he forced himself to eat and binge on coffee until finally unlocking his apartment door, heading straight to his hamper, pulling out the sheets of that night, went back out and around his building where he spent a good hour watching them burn in a trashcan.

Danny spent the rest of the time until his morning shift sitting in the dark, an unopened bottle of beer twirling between his fingers.

Once again, something good in his life was marred, ruined. His body was exhausted, but Danny couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. All he could see were overlaying images of that night and then Lindsay's beautiful face streaked with tears and turning away from him in pain; all he could hear were her sobs, her voice laced with heartbreak. The whole thing made his chest hurt. In all the time he'd known her, Danny had never seen Lindsay so broken and a part of him wondered how deep her feelings for him were. Was it possible she was falling in love with him? The thought should have given him a warm feeling, after all the pursuing he'd done, to have the girl he had wanted for so long falling for him. The thought should have made him smile, giddy with triumph, but rather, his body just grew heavier. He'd ruined everything. And now it was over. She'd never grace him with a genuine smile again. How were they supposed to work together? Damn it; Danny had really made a mess of everything. What was he supposed to do now?

Insanely curious about what was up with his friend, Flack instead nodded and leaned back against Danny's desk. "Anyway, there's a game on tonight. You wanna hit up Lucane's after work? They've got bigger screens and cuter waitresses." He winked. Maybe when lubricated with alcohol, Danny could be persuaded to talk.

"I'm on call tonight," was Danny's only response. He shuffled a few papers around his desk, but didn't appear to actually be doing any work.

Flack was getting a bit weirded out by this despondent version of Danny. "We could still catch the game though. And eat, eating's always good." He glanced at the other empty desk in the room, wondering where Lindsay was. "Sound good?"

A tired nod was his only answer and Flack was beginning to wish for a case to plop into his lap. Maybe then Danny could actually focus on work. Then again, paperwork could suck the fun out of anyone.

"Hey guys."

Hawkes! Flack almost gave a sigh of relief. Perhaps the doc could offer some suggestions to get Danny out of this bizarre, unnatural funk. It was creeping him out. A pained-looking Danny did not fit into Flack's happy world and he needed to go. He turned to greet the good doctor. "Hey man." Something resembling a grunt came from Danny's direction, causing Hawkes to raise an eyebrow by which Flack responded with wide eyes and a tiny shrug.

"Have any of you talked to Lindsay lately?"

Ah ha! Flack's keen detective skills detected a small wince flashing across Danny's face. So it was girl problems, eh? His curiosity demanded more info. "Nah, can't say I have," he responded, keeping one eye trained on his friend. "Why? What's up?"

Hawkes too, had noted Danny's dejected behavior and answered slowly, also keeping an eye on his blond-haired friend. "She got some bad news yesterday," Danny's eyes flinched, "something back in Montana," Danny tensed slightly and for the first time, his head shot up to fix his pained blue eyes on Hawkes with something akin to horror flashing across his face, "she said it wasn't serious but I could tell it was. Mac sent her home in the afternoon to make some calls and stuff. I called her last night, but got no answer. I was hoping perhaps you guys knew what was going on?" And by guys, he really meant Danny.

Panic coursed through Danny. Why hadn't Lindsay said something last night? His question about her checking up on things at home on her laptop came back to him and he cursed silently. Why hadn't she told him? He never would have told her then. She looked to him for support and he broke her heart instead. He called himself a dozen insulting names. Hawkes had said that Lindsay told him it wasn't anything serious, but it was. Her strained and drawn face was evidence of that. What had happened? Danny silently swore again. God.

"Huh." Flack, though concerned, for his Montana friend, was more interested in Danny's reactions. There was definitely something going on there. At that moment, his cell phone rang, prompting him to answer it.

"Flack." What he heard on the other end caused his eyes to widen and body to straighten immediately, all semblance of his carefree attitude taking a backseat to Detective Donald Flack. Hawkes and Danny noticed and stilled, listening closely.

"Got it. We're on our way. Keep me updated Stel." He lowered his phone, blue eyes full of worry. "Mac's been shot."