Chapter Eleven

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"Danny! Wait up!"

Forcing himself to stop, Danny waited until Hawkes had caught up to him. He knew that his two friends would be worried when he stormed out of the lab shortly after Stella. Personally, Danny would have preferred if Flack had talked to him, snap off a reply and it was easy to get him to back off. Hawkes, though, the man had this genuinely concerned mannerism about him that Danny couldn't use the same tactics; besides, Hawkes was just too nice. Biting back a reply, he waited.

"Look Danny, it's not too hard to guess where you want to go rushing off too, but, and I'm not trying to be interfering, it's also not hard to see that something has happened between the two of you. You flinched when I talked about her yesterday, did you know? I'm taking that to mean it was bad." Hawkes stepped in front of Danny, looking earnest. "I know you're probably more worried about her than the rest of us and there's probably this urge in you to want to try and protect her from this, but Danny, I think you should ask yourself: are you really what Lindsay needs right now?"

See? Hawkes was always so sincere. It was hard to get angry at the man. And Danny knew he was right. "I do not need this right now. Jesus...I fucking do not need this right now." His shoulders slumped.

"Listen, I'm worried too and my shift is almost over. How about I head over to Linds' apartment and check on her? I'll call you afterwards, all right?" Hawkes must've seen some sign of agreement and he laid a comforting hand on his friend's tense shoulder. "Flack's downstairs pulling out missing persons reports, let's go meet him huh?" Danny hung his head. "Danny?"

"I'll be there in a sec, doc. There's just one thing I have to do and I'll meet you guys downstairs." Danny heard Hawkes sigh and move away, but still didn't lift his head. His worry was still there, despite acknowledging his friend's words, and he could feel the anger burning up inside him. At Katum for taking her parents. At himself for hurting her even more. At Mac and Stella for knowing and not telling him sooner. At Lindsay for not telling him when he went over that night; if he had known, then maybe, he wouldn't have told about Rikka. Danny felt the energy thrumming through him and he swiftly and without meeting anyone's eyes, made his way to the locker room, hoping it was empty.

Once inside, he slammed the side of his fist against a metal locker, uncaring of what the locker's owner would think about the small dent in it. Danny dearly wished for a punching bag, preferably with Katum's ugly mug on it right now. Alone, he let it out.

Was she home alone, waiting and suffering all this time? Clutching the phone everywhere she went, willing it to ring with news about her parents? Was she even sleeping, too afraid to close her eyes and miss a call? Or because she was afraid of what she might dream about? Flashes of her parents' accusing faces alongside those of her dead childhood friends, shouting at her for killing them all.

Jesus...Jesus...He paced a bit, trying to wear out the energy that always surged through his body when someone he cared about was in trouble. Danny Messer was the type to always be willing to go to bat for his friends. And Lindsay...Lindsay was more than just a friend. She may hate him now, may want to slug him at their next meeting, shout in his face, but...if there was even a slightest chance that she would want his support during this time...Danny Messer's feet would be firmly planted in her corner.

He had started this month, having lost the company of a vibrant young boy with a bright future, a friendly relationship with a neighbor had been ruined and was now steeped in both uneasiness and awkwardness, he had lost a budding relationship with a woman that he cared a lot about, had almost lost Mac, and now that same woman was threatening to be lost to him forever. Everyone at the lab had seen the spark lost in Lindsay when her past in Montana resurfaced; this time, it was her parents. If they were taken away from her in such a violent manner, would her spark be lost forever? Would she be able to recover? No more smiling brown eyes, or big country smile, or playful teasing. Despair overcame him, sweeping all the frustrated energy away, leaving him suddenly weak. Leaning against the side of a locker, he slowly slumped to the ground, cradling his head in his hands for a moment.

Unsteadily, Danny reached for his cell phone. Hawkes was right. She didn't need to see him, but...he just couldn't force himself to walk away. A hesitant thumb pressed speed dial 2 and he listened it to ring before going to her answering machine. He hadn't expected any answer.

"Hey, it's me." Danny paused and licked his lips. "You're probably wondering why I'm calling when I'm probably the last person you want to hear from. I, uh, I just heard about what you're going through and...god, Linds, I'm sorry." His voice cracked. "For your parents and for me stressing ya' out even more. Y-you didn't need that. Things have been hectic here while you've been gone, not that I'm blaming you or anything," Danny added hastily before sighing in frustration. This was not going the way he wanted. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that if there's anything I can do, anything you want, anything you need, I-I'm here, alright? I'm still here." Danny took off his glasses, hot tears rushing to his eyes. "Look Linds, this...this isn't how I wanted to do this, but I'm sorry." His words became rushed, pouring out of him as if he was afraid to forget them. "It was never my intention to hurt you, I never wanted to make you cry. Never meant for this to happen. I did something unforgivable...and it hurts like hell. I don't know how to make it up to you, how to fix this, if I can, but...I'm still here for you. I'm still here. I still want this." He took a deep breath, still feeling inadequate. "I'll, uh, see you on Sunday. I...I miss you."

It was only a few hours later when Flack hunched deeper into the collar of his coat as he exited the building. The chill in the air signified the end of fall and the coming of winter.

"Detective Flack," a deep voice called from somewhere to his left. Glancing around, Flack saw an unpleasant sight.

"Chief Sinclair." He nodded, mentally wondering what the political-minded bureaucrat wanted. He recalled his last conversation with the man and automatically felt distaste in his mouth.

"I heard that Detective Taylor is in the hospital. Is he all right?"

Somehow Flack didn't believe the concern in the man's eyes was genuine. "He's fine. Nothing serious. Should be back soon." His answers were clipped. Flack wasn't sure what Sinclair was fishing for, but damned if he would give something up, no matter how innocuous.

Sinclair made a thoughtful noise. "And Detective Bonasera? Where is she?"

Flack's eyes narrowed slightly. "Detective Bonasera is most likely at the hospital, making sure Mac is fine. What's this about, Chief? If you don't mind my asking."

Smiling widely, Chief Bingham Sinclair laughed lightly. "Just wanted to make sure the top forensics team in New York is doing fine. If you should see Detective Bonasera, please tell her that I wish to speak to her, would you Detective Flack? Have a good night."

Staring at the taller man as he sauntered into the building for a minute, Flack headed for home, shaking his head. This was not good.