Spoiler Alert: Spoilers for Seasons 2 & 3, up to and including "Silent Night".

A/N: Thanks to all reviewers, and all those who are reading the story.

Disclaimer: No infringement of copyright is intended. All characters originated with CSI:NY; all song lyrics are from The Beatles.

It's A Long Journey Home

Chapter 3: Playing It Cool

Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.

For well you know that it's a fool,

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.

"Danny. Danny, hold on." Flack's voice was deep and quiet and Danny clung to it like a lifeline bringing him home. He shook his head and the darkness receded. Stella and Flack shared a look of relief when Danny's eyes cleared.

"So what do we do?"

"We take you back to the office if you're okay, home if not," Flack said. "Mac contacted the Montana State Police. He'll be informed as soon as there's anything…" his voice trailed off.

"Office," Danny said firmly.

"Let's go then. Mac may have something by now." Stella sighed as she stood up. It had been a long day, and it wasn't looking any shorter from where she stood.

The trip to the lab was silent. Flack drove; Stella took the front seat without thinking about it, leaving Danny in the back. He stared out the window watching the city lights flash past. Had Montana been sleeping on the plane? Had she been watching out the window, waiting for the lights of home to come into sight? Had she known when the plane started to go down? Had she been afraid?

Danny closed his eyes against the thought of Lindsay afraid. Somehow, her terror was harder to face than her death.

Stella flicked on the radio when they got closer to the city to sign in with Dispatch.

"There's a message for you, Detective Bonasera, from Detective Taylor. The plane has been found and there are some survivors. Repeat: there are some survivors. Copy?"

"Yes. Yes, copy that." Stella spoke a little breathlessly into the radio, and Flack hit the sirens to cut through some of the city traffic. "Survivors, Danny. There were some survivors. Did you hear?"

Danny started to nod, but stopped with a hiss; the damn concussion was doing his head in. He tried to smile back at Stella, but it was a poor effort at best. "Yeah, yeah, Stel. I heard. Keep praying, okay?"

He knew any prayers of his would be no good. They hadn't worked for months now.

They arrived at the lab, and went looking for Mac straight off, finding him in his office. Mac looked up as they walked in, and immediately got up to greet Danny, grabbing his shoulder and giving him a little shake, only stopping when he saw a grimace of pain. "What the hell were you thinking, Danny?"

Danny was going to defend himself, explain it hadn't been his fault, but then he saw the look on Mac's face and shut up. "I'm okay, Mac. Good thing I only hit my head!" His joke, feeble though it was, had the desired affect: the stretched look around Mac's eyes relaxed a tiny bit and Mac even managed a thin smile. "What's the news on Montana?"

"You got the message, Stella? That they found the plane?" When she nodded, Mac frowned and went on, "Well, they're checking the manifest and are beginning to process the scene. Some of the passengers got away from the plane and are triaging injuries. Luckily there were a couple of doctors on the plane. They're still looking for passengers."

Mac glanced at Danny, and put his hand on his shoulder again, squeezing it gently this time. "Danny, they haven't found Lindsay yet. At least, they haven't identified her …" his voice stopped as his throat closed up. He couldn't say the word 'remains'.

Stella swallowed a sob. "Are we sure that she was on that flight, Mac?"

Danny answered, "It was the only direct one to Bozeman this afternoon." He refused to hold on to the hope that he had been right, that it had been Lindsay he had seen in the airport after her flight had already left. He prowled around the room restlessly, nearly running into Sheldon Hawkes, looking strained and anxious, who walked in, saying, "Mac, I just heard. Is there any news?"

Mac shook his head. "The rescue team found the plane about an hour ago. There are survivors, and there were doctors on the plane, so passengers were receiving some help. No names are being released yet. As soon as they are, the Montana sheriff promised to let me know."

"So what do we do?" Shel's frustration was mirrored on every face in the room. They weren't used to inactivity; they were the investigators, not the ones who passively waited for other people to tell them what was going on.

With his back to his friends, Danny took out his cell phone and checked uselessly for messages. He didn't even know if her cell would be in range, but he had to do something. Quickly, he texted a message, "Montana, U OK?" and hit send. She had told him not to contact her. He planned to ignore that. He prayed he still had the chance to ignore that.

Evidently he still had a prayer or two in him.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but my shift started half an hour ago, so I have to check in," Flack wearily stood up, grabbing Stella's hand and giving it a comforting squeeze as he did. "Let me know if you need anything, 'kay?" He turned to Mac, "Keep in touch, would ya' Mac?"

Mac nodded wordlessly.

Flack turned to Danny next, "Walk out with me." He ignored Danny's automatic protest, and put one hand on his back, propelling him out of the room.

They walked silently down the hallway until they got to the elevators. There, Flack stopped and turned to Danny, "Look, man, I know this has got to be rough. I know you went to stop her," he raised a hand to keep Danny quiet and continued, "And I know you missed her. I bet you're thinkin' she wouldn't 'a been on that plane if you hadn't. That's got to be killing you."

Danny turned away, and rubbed his hand over his face, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead. "Leave it alone, Flack."

Flack shook his head. "Uh-huh. I'm going to say this, and you are going to hear it, Messer. Lindsay made her own choices. I'm not saying they were good choices, or the right ones, but they were hers. You couldn't have stopped her. Whatever … happens now," Flack's voice had gone husky, "You had nothing to do with it."

Danny turned back, his spurt of anger dying as he saw that Flack was as upset as he was, his blue eyes slicked with tears he wouldn't let fall.

Not as upset as he was. Any tears Danny may have shed had lodged somewhere in the pit of his stomach, and he knew they would sit there like a tumour.

"I should'a had something to do with it. Dammit, she shut me out. All I wanted…" he stopped and took a deep breath. "Wasn't what she wanted," he admitted.

Don reached out and gripped Danny's shoulder, much the way Mac had earlier. "We'll get through it, Danno. You're not alone."

Danny gave a stiff nod and patted Flack's arm awkwardly. "Never am, right?" He tried to say it lightly.