Spoiler Alert: Spoilers for Seasons 2 & 3, up to and including "Silent Night".
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, comments, questions and favourite lines readers have been sending. I appreciate the way you all keep me on track!
Disclaimer: No infringement of copyright is intended. All characters originated with CSI:NY; all song lyrics are from The Beatles.
Chapter 10: With a Little Help
What do I do when my love is away?
(Does it worry you to be alone?)
How do I feel by the end of the day?
(Are you sad because you're on your own?)
No, I get by with a little help from my friends
Danny waited until the plane should have left, sitting in the SUV, staring at the planes as they left for places far and wide, as they landed in the greatest city in the world. He sat until he was shivering with cold, but he could not make himself put the key in the ignition and drive away. As soon as he did that, the last connection to Lindsay would be gone, and he just wasn't ready for that yet.
"Full circle." He berated himself with the hint of bitterness that seemed to be the underlying flavour in his thoughts about Lindsay Monroe recently. Whether it was her fault or his fault no longer mattered. Fact was they seemed determined to tear each other apart.
He closed his eyes to try and ease the headache pounding through his temples before facing the traffic back into the city. Light as he had made his injuries sound to Lindsay, he was not eager to repeat the accident that had scrambled his brains. He had lost most of his memory of the day before, although he could still see the way the world looked hanging upside down.
He could also feel with exquisite precision the way his body had gone cold, first when he knew she had left, then when he thought she had left him for eternity.
Unbidden, flashes of the night before filled his mind: the taste of her skin on his tongue, the sound of her climaxing around him, the feel of her breath on his throat. She might be the most emotionally draining woman he had ever been involved with, but she was also the most challenging woman he had ever been with. He wasn't ready to walk away.
There was a knock on the window of his car, and he rolled down the window to look into the dark, apologetic face of a parking lot attendant. "I'm very sorry, sir," the man said civilly enough, "But I'll have to ask you to move your vehicle. That is, if you are all right, sir?"
Danny nodded brusquely and turned over the engine, put the car in gear, and pulled out of the parking lot. He had to get the car back to the PD lot; it wasn't even signed out to him, but to Hawkes, so any further accidents could have far reaching consequences.
He made it to the city without incident, signed the vehicle back in by forging Hawkes' scrawling indecipherable doctor's signature, and made his way to the lab. Technically, he was still off the clock until the departmental doctor okayed him for duty, but he was pretty sure Mac would ignore his unofficial presence.
The first person he saw in the lab was Stella, who took one look at his face and wrapped her arms around him. "She's gone?"
Danny nodded, "Yeah. She has to testify two days from now." He'd seen the letter stuck on her fridge with a happy face magnet, and had phoned the airport immediately.
"You two okay?" Stella couldn't help but ask; she'd been worrying about them for months now.
Danny shook his head in defeat. "I don't know. Maybe. If she comes back." He couldn't bring himself to tell Stella what had happened the night before. Coming from him, with his past, it would sound like bragging. He didn't feel puffed up with player pride; he'd be happy to be able to take in a full breath, though. "I'm going to catch up on some paper work, okay? See ya'round." He hugged her back briefly and broke away, wandering down the hall to his office.
He got to the door, but couldn't face going through it, so he detoured down to the lab to beg for something, anything, to do. Adam took pity on him and found him some trace evidence to run through the computer, and Flack found him still there hours later, staring blankly at a computer screen.
"Danny. Hey, Danny, let's go," Flack said, gently enough for him.
"Naw, s'okay," Danny mumbled, his voice slurred. "I'm waiting on results here."
Flack glanced at the screen flashing "Match Not Found", and coaxed Danny off his stool and onto his feet. "Let's go find something to eat, okay? Then I'll give you a lift home." Once again, he propelled an unresisting Danny down the hall to the locker room, where he grabbed his coat, wondering if he was going to have to put it on for him. Danny automatically took it and shrugged it on, though, continuing out the door behind Flack.
They went down the block to the pub frequented mostly by off-duty and retired cops, walking into the familiar fug of cigarette smoke, beer, and male bodies wearing woolen suits cleaned too seldom and sweated through too often. They went towards the back of the bank of booths, and sat down in the one they most often shared.
The waitress, a pert 19 year old with a wandering eye and talented tongue, who worked behind the bar on Saturday nights for tips and behind the restaurant in the alley every night for a couple of C-notes, wriggled up to them with two pints of draft on tap, snapping her gum as she leaned over the table and gave Flack a good eyeful of the bounty she had on offer. "Eating tonight, gentlemen, or just the beer?"
Flack looked over at Danny and diagnosed a definite need for food. "Burgers and fries, Candy, the usual." He watched her sashay off to place the order and shook his head at her parents. Basically, Flack thought, if you were going to name a girl Candy, you might just as well set her up as a hooker from the get go. It seemed to mess with their heads. You never seemed to hear of a doctor called Candy.
Flack had taken the seat facing the door so he could flag Hawkes when he came in. Hawkes had texted him, asking him to come get Danny out of the lab, and promising to meet them as soon as he could. He still had some projects to finish up, but he had seen Danny still working, and was determined to get him back on his feet.
Sheldon Hawkes was a quiet person, but everyone on Mac Taylor's team had learned to trust him. He was good folk, as Flack's ma would say: honest, smart, and committed to his friends. If he had suffered any doubt at some point that his loyalty was not reciprocated by the rest of the team, those concerns had been put to rest by the unwavering support and dedication they had shown during the Shane Casey case, when he had been set up by a serial killer looking for revenge over a brother's death. Danny was not the only one who had risked his job to prove Hawkes innocent: Mac had himself come close to being reprimanded for some of the stunts he had pulled during the investigation.
Flack was counting on Hawkes having some clue of what to do with Danny now that they had succeeded in getting him out of the lab. Flack could chase down a fleeing suspect, intimidate a witness, and screw a confession out of a nun, but the thought of trying to dig into Danny's heart and soul and figure out what was going on inside him was enough to turn Don Flack Jr.'s blood to icy water. His usual choice would be alcohol and lots of it, but Hawkes had pointed out the flaw in that otherwise stellar plan.
"Alcohol and concussion, Flack. A very bad combination."
Maybe Sheldon would have the key to getting Danny to open up.
Flack heaved a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the doctor moving through the restaurant. He was frowning a little as he joined them, sitting on the same side of the booth as Flack, and carefully did not look at Danny until Candy came up to get his order.
"Easy on the beer, eh, Danny? Alcohol won't do your head any good," he said as Candy dropped a pint of draft in front of him and he cleansed the taste of the lab out of his throat and mind.
They talked about the latest cases for a few moments, with Danny contributing mostly grunts as he stared at his now forbidden beer.
"Hear from Lindsay?" Hawkes finally said, as casually as he could.
Danny flipped open his phone, scrolled through a few screens and shoved it across the table. The text message said simply, "Safe. Montana."
Flack shared a look with Hawkes. "Seems a little … cold. Not much like Lindsay."
Danny shrugged and muttered into his beer, "Probably more than I deserve."
Hawkes drank again and pushed his empty glass away. "Look, Danny, do you want to talk about what happened? Yesterday, last night, this morning, whatever?"
Flack glared at him, "Way to be subtle, genius. I could'a done that!"
Danny looked at the two men, two of his best friends, who were giving up their evening to help him through a tough time, and wondered vaguely why he didn't feel more grateful.
"Look, there's nothing to talk about. You called it, Flack. I screwed up. Big surprise, right? Everyone will be shocked. I'm sure the office pool is still running; feel free to let Stella and her little black book know. Danny Messer fucked everything up as of one a.m. today. Hope you got in on the pool, Flack – you could collect a nice piece of change."
He pushed his plate away in disgust, then looked up at his friends' carefully blank faces. He couldn't think of a way to begin to describe what had happened between Lindsay and him. He couldn't bear the thought of the way their faces would change if he tried to explain.
"Hey, guys, I'm sorry. I'm not fit company tonight. I'm going to go home and try to sleep this off." He peeled a bill off and tossed it on the table. He held up one hand as Flack started to get up. "It's okay. I can get home. I'm fine. Sorry, Doc. I don't want to take this out on anyone else."
Without a backwards look, Danny walked out of the restaurant and disappeared down the street.
"Think they slept together?" Flack mused, grabbing Danny's untouched burger and biting into it.
"I suspect he hasn't slept at all," Hawkes answered as he moved to the other side of the booth. "If you mean did he have sex with her, there are only two things which screw a man up that badly: NOT having sex with a certain someone …"
Flack grunted, "And HAVING sex with a certain someone."
"Pass me his fries."