Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was late Sunday night and the feeling of unease had not left Danny even as he walked up the flight of stairs to his and Rikka's apartment floor. It felt like his life was hanging in the balance and in a way it was. If Rikka was indeed pregnant, then even though he didn't feel that way about her, Danny Messer would step up to the plate and acknowledge his responsibility; if she was having a baby and if it was his, then Danny would do everything he could to provide for him or her and see that he or she had a good life.

If she was pregnant. If.

Never had such a word meant so much and been so terrifying at the same time.

Minutes later, Danny was taking a deep breath before knocking on a door he had never been afraid to knock on before. He gave Rikka a quick pained smile as she opened it and held the door for him to step through. Grief still ravaged her face and tear tracks were visible. She was a broken mother, living in an empty and too, too quiet apartment. Bracing himself, Danny expected to feel a lurch of pain at the sight of tiny reminders of Reuben scattered throughout the space, but the only sign of the young boy were smiling pictures of more joyous times and a sad smile instead crossed his lips, remembering the boy and his short happy life as opposed to Reuben's last moments the day of the tragedy when he was so unjustly taken away from loved ones. Danny much preferred to remember Reuben this way, with a happy smile, childish laugh, and innocent inquisitive personality as these pictures showed.

"I was making some pasta," Rikka said, touching his arm. "Not as good as yours, but...I thought we could eat first." She gave him a feeble smile, but her eyes remained dead. "It was the least I could do for causing more trouble and dragging you here. Please, have a seat."

Danny would have much rather liked to have Rikka do the pregnancy test now, but he didn't want to push. He took a reluctant seat, tensing as Rikka placed her hands on his shoulders, asking, "Why don't you take your jacket off and I'll hang it?"

"Ah no," Danny pushed up the bridge of his glasses. "I'm fine."

Shuffling the few feet to the kitchen, Rikka talked over her shoulder. "It's a simple fettuccine Alfredo. Reuben loved it, but always compared it to yours." Her quiet voice sounded so sad as she talked of her son.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Danny shifted in his seat at the small wooden dining table. "How are you holding up? It's a stupid question and I know everyone's been asking you that, but, well, they can't help it." He managed a small smile, but couldn't stop fiddling with his fingers under the table.

Rikka returned with two plates filled with steaming pasta. She took a seat and began twirling pasta around her fork, taking her time to answer the question for so long that Danny almost thought that she had forgotten he had asked her anything in the first place.

"These last few days have been really hard. I had to pack up all of his things, my mom wanted to help, but I didn't want her here to see me break down yet again, but it hurt so much." Her voice hitched. "I came across so many things. There was this kite that he pestered me to buy all last month, saying he wanted to fly it high up in the air in Central Park. We'd make a whole day of it; he was so excited and now, now he can't." Rikka broke down crying and Danny got up from the table to comfort her. She turned and buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing for the son she had lost so unfairly. Uncomfortable crouching on his feet, Danny guided Rikka off the dining room chair and onto the floor into a more comfortable position. She buried her face in his chest.

Danny knew the pain he had felt when he realized Reuben was gone was nothing compared to the pain Rikka felt as a mother and there was a distressed frown on his face. Laying his hands on her shaking shoulders, he waited until Rikka had calmed down before murmuring, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The words were so over-used, but it was all he had to offer.

Lifting her tear-stained face, Rikka looked at him before raising her face to his.

Unlike before, Danny immediately recoiled, shrugging out of her hold on him almost violently. Standing up and moving to get some distance, Danny held up his hands. "Rikka, we can't."

She looked at him, lost, on the floor still. "Why not?"

Feeling anger rising in him, Danny frowned at her. "We went over this. What happened that night," he closed his eyes in pain and guilt, "was a mistake. We agreed that we weren't in our right minds and that it would never happened again. It was the grief talking, Rikka, both of our grief at losing Rueben. But that's all it was. There...there was nothing else there."

Rikka got up slowly, wiping her eyes. "Wha- What if I changed my mind? I need you Danny. Please. Please, why can't we?" She made a beseeching move toward him and Danny took another step back, intent on keeping his distance. He was not going to make another mistake. Rikka looked pleadingly at him, as if wanting him to save her, asking him silently why he wouldn't help her with this?

"Changed your mind?" Danny shook his head almost disbelievingly. "This isn't something you can change your mind about, Rikka. It was a mistake, that's all. There's no choice in this. We can't do this." Danny's voice rose as he spoke. "I lost my girlfriend because of this, Rikka. You're a great friend, but I don't...I don't care about you in that way." He ran an agitated hand through his hair. "I may have fucked things up with my girlfriend, just like I did with a lot of things in my life, but I'm not giving up on her. I want to be with her, not, not you. I'm sorry." His blue eyes peered through his glasses at her. She was still grieving, still hurting, still reeling from the loss of her son, her heart. The woman on the verge of crumpling before him was lost, scared. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. But, no."

His voice was firm, resounding through the apartment and almost suspiciously, Danny watched as Rikka suddenly stopped moving towards him, halting at his sharp voice, dropped her head and hid her eyes. Danny had no idea what she was thinking. He didn't want to hurt her, she'd been in enough pain already, but Danny had to lay it out for her. "Look," he started. "Why don't you just take the test now and let's get this over with, alright?" His voice held a pleading note.

Still not saying a word with eyes fixed on the floor, Rikka nodded and shuffled off down the hall into the bathroom. Danny blew out an anxious breath as he waited by the door, hand repeatedly running through his disheveled hair and heart jumping. Minutes passed in the still apartment and his apprehension mounted. Judging by her behavior, Danny knew that Rikka had a lot more to work through and needed help, but not any kind he could provide.

After what seemed like eternity, Rikka emerged, holding the instrument that would decide his fate.

"Well?" Danny couldn't keep his voice from shaking. Swallowing nervously, he held his breath.

Rikka looked up at him with a blank face, gripping the white pregnancy stick. After a brief moment, she gave a tiny nod.

His heart stopped. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. Lindsay. Frantically, his eyes searched her own. Honey eyes stared back, emotionless.

Something wasn't right. The CSI in him insisted something was wrong, to check for himself, as did the panicked bachelor in him, for other reasons; a brunette fighting her own battles in another state came to mind. Rikka's face was too blank.

With a slight tremble in his voice and hoping against hope, he asked, "Can I see?" He plucked a tissue out of a nearby tissue box and held out his hand. It was a tense moment as Danny called her bluff. "Rikka, I understand that you're scared. You've lost the most important person in your life and now you're looking to cling to something or someone so you won't feel so damn lost all the time. But Rikka, please, that someone...isn't me." His hand remained stretched out.

Rikka's face remained unchanged, but he could a tiny flicker in her eyes. Her lips quivered and Danny knew he'd reached her when her shoulders slumped all of a sudden and Rikka shook her head, showing him the test and its negative indication. Danny breathed a sigh of relief, exclaiming 'oh thank God' loudly inside. He looked sadly at her. "I'm sorry Rikka."

She said nothing, looking pained and about to cry and Danny thought it was best to just leave her be. If he stayed any longer or tried to offer some comfort, she might be inclined to try something else. Without a word, not knowing what else to say that hadn't already been said, Danny helplessly let himself out. The walk back to his apartment was slow, but lighter than it had been in the past few days. This thing with Rikka was over, although he wished that it hadn't degraded into something so twisted, but to Danny, it was also another step to recovery. Now all he had to worry about was a brunette with a warm soft body, loving brown eyes, and a radiant teasing smile.

That reminded him of something else too. Stepping into his apartment, Danny's hand went to his cell phone. While still not taking his calls and being AWOL, searching for her parents, Danny was of the mind that Lindsay should know what was going on. She probably didn't care and telling her this would only remind her of his betrayal, but Danny had to tell her, if only to clear his own conscience.

He waited for her answering machine to pick up before beginning to speak.

The glower on Mac's face grew darker and darker as Stella ranted in his hospital room that late night, both in slight anger at Branco's obvious high-handedness, but also in severe disappointment in Lindsay. What was she thinking? She had promised him no cowboy tactics and then turns around and does just that. What's more, she had told him she would be working in the lab, doing her job, that Sunday; Lindsay hadn't given him her word, but it was as good as. Lindsay was knowingly committing career suicide.

"I know you're angry with her Mac, but it's not really her fault. Not really," Stella lectured him, knowing exactly what her friend was thinking.

He glared at her, sitting up in his hospital bed. "She directly disobeyed orders, Stella. Plain and simple."

Taking his hand in hers, Stella's eyes were soft. "Her parents have been kidnapped by two murderers who won't hesitate to kill them, one with a severe grudge against her. Her heart's involved in this Mac, not her head. That is not plain and simple. Hardly anything that's involved with the heart and emotions is so clear-cut. While Lindsay's job is important to her, this is her life. The thought of losing her parents, like that..." Stella shook her head, unable to continue and eyes starting to glisten.

Mac stared at one of his oldest friends, heart softening, but only just. He sighed and then did something unexpected. Moving carefully, but without hesitation, Mac swung his legs off the bed, pressing the button to call a nurse.

Stella moved back, head tilted in confusion. "Mac...what are you doing?"

He looked at her with a glint in his eye. "I'm saving my CSI's ass."

A nurse scurried in and stifled a protest at the sight of Mac getting out of his bed, slowly but with no real difficulty. "Sir! Please!"

Mac barely glanced at her, shrugging a robe that Stella had brought him a few days ago. "Can you call my doctor or any doctor if he's not available?" The nurse huffed and sputtered, but left the room, muttering.

"Mac?" Stella was still lost.

He laughed at her confusion. "I'm checking myself out of here Stel," Mac grinned as her jaw dropped. "And after we make a quick stop at my house, you're driving me to the lab. There's a call I need to make."