Don hurried about the room. It was a mess. This was terrible. Why hadn't he thought to organise before?
Suddenly a stray thought stuck him, nearly bowling him clean over.
"What if there's a fire?" he enquired the back of the couch. "Your elevator's broke and you can't walk down the stairs!"
At length an exhausted sounding voice answered him, barely discernible above the loud antics of bugs bunny on the television. "I'll slide down the freaking banister or somethin'. Quit worrying."
"Danny" Detective Flack reprimanded the back of the furniture. "This is serious. You could get hurt."
Silence and he knew they were both thinking the same thing. Danny was already hurt.
It had been two days since Flack had taken the blonde man back to the hospital that second time to get his hands stitched up again. The time the man had scrubbed at himself so hard in the shower that the wounds on his palms had reopened. Luckily apart from red skin and minor scratches those had been the only wounds. It could have been worse.
The next day it was. Somehow while hobbling around the house, something that meant Flack had to bite his tongue to fight the urge to yell at him to lie down and rest. Danny had snuck a scouring cloth from the kitchen.
Due to continual pestering on Don's part the blonde's shower had been shorter this time. Only half an hour. Danny's hands had been red and sore, but the stitches intact.
Don had noticed how stiffly the man had been walking after he exited the bathroom but had only assumed he was tired. Whether it was all the medication the blonde had been put on or just the pain he was in Danny got tired out much faster than he used to.
It was only when Danny refused to remove the jacket he was wearing after slipping under the covers of his bed that the detective knew something was amiss. Danny hadn't spoken to him. He had just sat on the edge of his bed as the taller man removed the jacket.
Sore red marks deepened into scratches and scrapes, some of them deep enough to create long scratches that covered his stomach and shoulders. Worst affected had been the man's shoulders and thighs. Those had required cream that Don had eventually managed to find in the back of Danny's medicine cupboard. It had been designed for sunburns but worked just the same.
The next hour had been spent turning upside down Danny's bathroom and kitchen. Gathering together any material that Don considered abrasive enough to do damage while the blonde remained in his same position on the edge of his bed watching and looking worried. It had all been thrown out which would make cleaning up after cooking more difficult but was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
Neither of the two had brought up the incident since.
"Sure" came the muttered reply from the sofa. There was a shifting sound and a hiss of pain as the blonde attempted a more comfortable position. "Like I'll get hurt if the police get an apartment number mixed up and arrest me in a drug raid while you're out. Or if someone breaks in while you're gone. Or if I fall and break my hip."
Flack dragged a hand through his dark hair as he walked to the other side of the couch. A dry chuckle slid through his lips as he lowered his weight to perch on the edge of the coffee table.
"I've been that bad huh?"
Danny didn't part his gaze from Bugs Bunny who was giving some kind of weird red monster the slip. He did spare him a nod that Flack appreciated. "You've been insufferable."
The taller man let loose another wide smile at the wording. After the long unusual silences of the days before every word that left Danny's mouth felt like a gift. Every word that felt remotely like they were having a normal conversation even more so.
Danny still didn't look at him with anywhere near the ease that the taller man was used to but the talking had improved. Not that there weren't still silences. There were. Sometimes Don failed to figure out what brought them on. Sometimes there were triggers; the times after the blonde needed help eating or getting changed, the moments after he took his medication, the moments after Don accidentally forgot himself and clapped the smaller man on the shoulder.
Any time that reminded Danny of his injuries or what had happened was followed by silence. Sometimes it seemed like a passive thing. Like in a second the blonde had just slipped away behind his eyes to another time and space. In others it seemed more of an affliction.
The man would struggle for words, eyes dancing nervously as if looking for a internal dictionary that told him the right one to choose. Lips would attempt syllables but all sounds would remain vehemently locked inside his throat. It was like he forgot how to speak which if you knew Danny was impossible given how much practice he had received in the art.
Stella had said that it was probably nothing to get to worried about at this stage. That it might just be shock and nerves. Flack had made it a habit to talk over some of his concerns about Danny with her. She was after all the only person aside from him, the blonde and some hospital staff who knew what had happened enough to be able to discuss it.
Despite her reassurances Don had yet to find an off switch for his worries about Danny.
"Look Danny" Flack wet his lips nervously hoping he would manage to find the correct words to convey what he wanted to say. Ever since that night the blonde had been unpredictable to say the least. It was like now that he had regained some of his senses Danny was trying to crawl his way up to the steep hill that led to an illusive normality. Then a word or something would cause him to lose his footing and the smaller man would tumble down into confusion or fierce anger.
"If you don't want me to go today then I won't go. I still have time saved for vacation and my sister is doing real good with her drinking problems so I don't think I'll need to take time off to bail her out." God, he was rambling again.
Don set his jaw, sitting upright on the edge of the coffee table as he stared at the still figure on the sofa. He organised what he needed to say then placed it in the air between them clearly. He needed Danny to understand. "All you need to do is say the word and I'll stay here."
"Don. I'm not going to break my hip while you're gone."
That was another thing that had changed, the tone of the blond's voice. Before that night to say that Danny had been expressive was an understatement. The man had practically made communication a new art form. Every wide smile, change in tone or bouncing feet had meant something new.
Now though, movements were stilted and voice hardly moved from its one flat tone. All in all it made communication with the other man odd and problematic. It had become particularly difficult to tell whether or not Danny might be joking.
Don decided to assume it was a joke. He also decided to assume that it wasn't a funny one.
The taller man stood from his perch on the edge of the coffee table. Despite running his hands self soothingly through his dark crop of hair the detective was still worried. However, he had finally accepted that that fact might not change.
"You have water on the side" Don pointed to the two bottles lined up on the dark wood table in front of the curled up blond. There was also a small collection of two pills lying next to them, white on the dark surface. Next to those sat a small covered bowl of soup along with various cereal bars.
It was unlikely that Danny would eat those. It had been roughly four days since Don had found the smaller man huddled in the alleyway. Almost four and a half days since he had waved goodbye to the man from the taxi before heading home.
Danny's throat was among the many injuries that still aggravated him. Soft foods were preferred. Anything too harsh would bring tears of pain to his eyes if he tried to eat it. Followed by a coughing fit that sounded so painful that it brought liquid to Don's eyes just watching it.
Still Don couldn't bear the thought of leaving the man without enough to eat. Danny's appetite had become more like his mood recently. Inconsistent at best.
"You can take your next dose of painkillers at twelve. I've set your phone to go off then." Don didn't say why he had only placed one dose within the blond's reach. Why the other pills were hidden at the very top of the kitchen cupboard where Danny could not see or get to them.
Danny hadn't talked about harming himself. Nor had he with the exception of the shower incidents. Still, there was something in his subdued manner and disconnected states that made Don wary. That made Don question a thousand times over whether it was wise to leave Danny alone right now.
A big part of him screamed that it wasn't time. That he didn't trust this new Danny to remain safe while he was gone. However another part countered and this was the part he chose to listen to. Don wasn't sure if he would ever consider it was time to leave Danny alone after this.
There had to be a time where he chanced it and it wasn't like he could hire a babysitter while he was gone.
If he took any more time off there was no way Mac wouldn't become suspicious. Not that a part of him didn't still want that to happen but he had promised Danny. There was no way he would allow himself to become a liar in the blond's eyes right now.
So there was only one thing to do. Don had to trust the blond when he said that he would be alright. That he would still be whole and breathing when the detective came back from work.
Still, he could not help but make one last request before he straightened out the last things and left the apartment. "Dan. Just promise me you won't try and take a shower while I'm out."
To Don's relief the small blond head on the sofa gave a small nod in reply, never once looking away from the cartoons.
When walking to the elevator that led to the police laboratory floor you had to first pass through a room filled with desks. It was here that numerous detectives and other officers carried out the forgotten back bone of police work – paper work. It was here that Flack's rather disgruntled commanding officer managed to corner the him on his way to talk to Stella.
"Detective Flack. My office now." Despite being a cop since straight out of high school those words still managed to make him feel like no time had really passed. Like he was still a fresh faced rookie feeling like the world was going to end every time anyone with a higher rank slid a reprimand his way.
An officer Flack had worked with enough times over the years to become friendly caught his gaze from across the heaving room of manned desks. With a barely hidden smirk the man drew a finger across his neck. An exaggerated alarmed look making his eyes increase in size.
Flack suppressed the urge to glare. Bunch of wise guys he worked with...
"Listen sir, if this is about the time off I took recently"
Lieutenant Sythe shot a sharp glance that made the detectives mouth snap shut obediently. Whatever had pissed the man off it was bad enough that best course of action seemed to be silence. Or else he could end up putting his foot in his mouth and make the situation a hundred times worse. So much for thinking that after four tense days of playing nursemaid, work would be a piece of cake.
"Why is it that mere hours after you call in sick I get the director of the crime lab down here offering his condolences about a dire situation that happened in my department? To one of my men?" The usually calm man's face was turning an odd shade of red.
Here was a hole in his plan that he did not anticipate. Thinking back Flack knew he should have known that would happen. The police force was a tight knit group except for the odd departmental cliques. It was obvious that Mac would try and offer support however possible even when he had agreed to not be directly involved in the case.
"Of course I have no idea what the man is talking about. So I ask who told him this information. Why Detective Don Flack he says as if I already know. The detective who is working on the case." The lieutenant smoothed wrinkled palms over greying hair, pacing the office with all the grace and silence of a large elephant.
Flack took a nervous step back toward the closed doorway, careful to keep a level of distance from his supervisor.
Lieutenant Sythe shot another piercing glare in his direction and Flack stopped moving.
"The only case I have you clocked on is the dodgy murder in that residential neighbourhood. So I ask him if he means that one. No he doesn't he says. Then he gets an odd look on his face and asks me if I know the case he is talking about. Of course I do I tell him. I know everything that goes on in this department!"
The detective swallowed deciding for self preservations sake it was best to keep his mouth shut until a question requiring a definite answer was phrased.
Finally Sythe let out a breath. Setting his weight down in the chair behind his flimsy wooden desk he fixed the younger man into a pointed gaze.
"I suggest you start explaining why one of my detectives is working a case that I haven't been told about."
His cue. Oh boy, Flack did not feel ready. Although he had explained the situation to Mac, and sort of explained it to Stella his tongue still seemed to have little idea how to put the words together. Perhaps it had something to do with the past four days spent skirting around the issue.
Don didn't know quite who enforced it but neither he or Danny addressed what had happened directly. The conversation days ago in the shower after the blonde had injured himself the first time had been the closest they had gotten to talking about it. Maybe that was wrong of him not to push. All he knew was that this skirting they did hurt a hell of a lot less for both of them than addressing what had happened.
"Its a rape case Sythe. Involving an officer as a victim" There, like ripping off a bandage the words were in the air. It still stung. Even without mentioning his close relationship with said victim it still stung.
Watching the wind fall from his commander's sails Flack reflected on the power of that one word. 'Rape'. Four little letters. Everyone who worked in law enforcement seemed to know the power of that word. Even if not all could comprehend the suffering caused to people. To families. To friends. To lives.
Everyone knew the messy blunt power of that word.
"Is it one of mine?" The man's voice had gone from 'bad-ass boss' to quiet concerned party in seconds. He leant forward on the desk, body language fighting between shocked surprise and indignation.
Flack unconsciously tensed. "I can't tell you who it is."
"And why the hell not?"
That was a good question. His deal with Danny had not mentioned Sythe at all. The only one he had promised to keep out of the loop was Mac Taylor, Danny's boss. There was nothing stopping him from telling his own boss.
Still somehow the idea of diverging his best friend's secret to anyone else tasted horribly traitorous.
"Sythe you can't tell Mac anything. I know you guys talk."
Lieutenant Sythe narrowed his eyebrows. "So you're not only keeping things from your supervisor. You're hiding case details from a department head too?"
"I promised him I wouldn't let Mac know who he is. It wasn't my intention to leave you out of the loop on this. Things have just been really hectic."
The older man's sharp gaze softened somewhat. He shifted in his chair with a level of unease that Flack had never witnessed on his supervisor before. Maybe the confirmation that the victim was a male had kicked Sythe into truly unknown territory. Sure, it might not be politically correct but it wasn't like they were used to male victims of sex crimes around here. Particularly not victims who were male police officers.
"It was one of your lab rat friends wasn't it?"
Or maybe Sythe had just proved his worth as a detective. After all for what other reason would he be so concerned about keeping this from Mac and yet forget to even approach the situation with his own supervisor. The more Don thought about it the more surprised he was that Mac hadn't guessed it as well. "Listen Sir"
The lieutenant cut him off, which was a good thing as Flack really had no idea what he would say next.
"You know you could have come to me about this Flack. I'm your supervisor. I'm here to help you out when you get hit by situations like this."
Flack couldn't stop the next words from spilling from his throat. They felt as dry and tasteless in his mouth as he was sure they sounded in the air of the office. "You're here to help me when my friend gets raped Sythe?"
Barely fazed the man nodded. "Among other things."
Sieving through words to find the most polite way of phrasing something was a skill Flack's mother had taught him with care. Somehow now it just didn't seem important anymore.
It was as if the conversation had drained him to the point that all non essential functions had shut down. The world shifted to a dulled grey and he could not bring himself to care about what others would think of him. There was also the inkling feeling that if he stayed trapped in this conversation any longer he might scream or cry. He wasn't sure which, just that it would be violent.
"I have other things to do Sythe."
Perhaps the elder man sensed the tension because he didn't put up a fuss, just nodded his head. "I can hold off on the specifics for a while but you are not keeping me out of this case like you did with Taylor. I expect full access."
"Sure" Flack was just glad that he wasn't demanded a name of right there and then. It still seemed too much of a betrayal to Danny.
"And Flack. This case starts giving you trouble then I'll be taking charge. There's no sense doing a half ass job in a case like this one."
Even in his dire mood Flack almost managed a smile. As gruff as the phrasing was the detective knew it was Sythe's way of offering a hand. Though Don still felt like he had to see this case through himself it was nice to know that help was there in case he needed it.
Later, riding the elevator to the floor of the crime lab somehow he felt lighter. Despite the pain he could not help but feel during the conversation, knowing there was someone there who had his back in all of this was reassuring. It was like some of the heaving weight had been lifted from atop his shoulders. Only a little bit, but enough that he could feel the difference.
The crime lab looked the same. That seemed wrong. The last time he had been here was the evening after he found Danny in the alleyway. It had been, as evenings usually were, dark and cold. The gloom had suited the occasion perfectly.
Now in the daylight the lab had returned to its usual busy friendly place. When the woman in charge of admin flashed Flack a smile in passing, he had to fight the urge to scowl back. It seemed almost disrespectful to realise that while he and Danny had been dealing with hell everyone else's lives went on as if nothing had happened.
On his way navigating the maze of glass covered rooms to find Stella he met Monroe instead.
Her soft smile of greeting dropped into a wide eyed look of 'what the hell' in comical speed. She picked up her pace, strands of her shoulder length brown hair escaping a hasty bun to brush against her face. Until she stopped in front of him, craning back her neck to scrutinise his features despite her short form being dwarfed by his advantage of nearly an entire foot in height.
Flack could only raise a wearied brow in question as the woman took to her tip toes. Pursing lightly pinked lips in concentration she grasped his jaw with an deceptively firm grip, turning his head from side to side as if it might better help her to read his expressions.
Then she stepped back, staring up at him with huge wide eyes. "You look like shit Flack!"
"Er" he shrugged "Thanks?"
"No you look terrible" Lindsay continued as if he hadn't quite appreciated her assessment.
To be honest Flack hadn't noticed that much. He'd been spending the last few days just worrying about Danny. He couldn't even remember the last time he had glanced in a mirror. Which was odd since Flack was definitely a guy who appreciated his good looks.
Nevertheless this conversation was not achieving much so onward he went to a small layout room Stella had said she would be. Unfortunately Lindsay followed.
"Seriously Flack I've seen dead people that look better than you."
If this were a conversation with Stella, or with Danny before what had happened Flack would have assumed the other person was making fun of him. With Lindsay he wasn't so sure. When she wanted to be she could be really funny. Side spliting, rip roaringly funny.
However when she was trying to act on being concerned, she could be funny too. Just very unintentionally funny. Which wasn't so fun. Heck, all the males in the lab, maybe even the whole city were better at expressing their empathy than Lindsay was.
"I saw our alley victim again. He's been dead for four days and he looks better than you, above the waist I mean. Not that I'm saying I know that you look good below the waist. I mean-"
"Lindsay would you shut up! The whole fucking lab gets that I look like shit today!"
Then there it was, the wide doe eyed look of hurt. Oh boy. And the way she immediately blinked furiously as if trying to bring back the familiar steel look she wore to cover up how much something had damaged her feelings. In less than a second the vulnerability was gone and in its place was a hard but still worried gaze.
Somehow that managed to make Flack feel even more guilty.
"Look Flack I'm really sorry." The words were even but the mask of resilience broke a little. Just enough so that he could see the cracks of pain and confusion behind the schooled features.
This was hard for her. He got that. Lindsey was not a gal who was apt in sharing feelings of most sorts and areas of sadness were by far her least skilled area. On top of that as diminished as her skills of expressing sadness were they were far superior to her ability to deal with those kinds of emotions in others.
He could imagine clearly what was going on in her head right now. Her friend who usually joked with her was in emotional pain. She seemed to have cottoned onto that. Now what could she do about it...
And that was exactly where her brain would freeze in place because as much as she seemed to ache to do something to help she rarely seemed to be able to grasp what that something was.
Flack offered his friend a smile because it hurt him just as much to see her in pain as it tormented her to see him hurting. "Its ok Linds. I over reacted. I'm just really tired."
The woman glanced up at him before staring at the wall of the corridor, a section that was not actually see through like a lot of the rest of the building. She crossed arms firmly about her chest before she looked at him again out of the corner of her eye, like a child afraid of being scolded.
"No. Just listen a minute Flack. I just wanted to say that I am sorry for showing you the, uh" she pressed her lips to a fine line "the unmentionable before you left. I really didn't think about it but I should have so I'm sorry."
Flack frowned, thinking for a moment then grinning despite himself when he figured out what she was going on about. "What you mean the rats breakfast? Is that what you're so wound up about?"
"Yeah, I mean" Lindsay threw her arms wide in illustration, finally meeting his gaze fully. "I show you it and you freak out. Then only hours later part way through the case you leave. Then after hours of no contact I get told that you're taking some personal time. So I'm here freaking out that I made you freak out. And – Hey stop laughing!"
The detective couldn't help it. After all that had happened over the past few days the very idea that he was still upset over a little shock was hilarious. And he found he missed laughing. He could not pin point the last time he had the opportunity to laugh this much. Perhaps that night at the bar, before everything that happened. They had laughed a lot that night.
Lindsay Monroe turned a bright shade of red. "I take it from your reaction that this wasn't about the 'rats breakfast' was it?"
He smiled wanting to hug her tight for giving him the chance to feel a little bit of humour again. It felt so good he couldn't describe it. "Linds, you really think I'd freak out over that after all the things we've seen?"
Frowning up at him the petite woman crossed arms firmly across her chest again. Her body language had changed in a second from 'oh shit' to 'you asshole'.
"Do you mind. I was going to be all sensitive and consoling you ass! Then you just laugh at me!" A glint in her brown eyes showed humour. The edge to her stance showed deep irritation born no doubt from days of worry.
"You consoling?" Flack chuckled, shaking his head as if trying to imagine it. "How were you going to manage that?"
"I had some ideas" Lindsay countered, glaring up at him as though her eyes were deadly weapons.
"Really" he said, not fazed at all by her sour mood. "Were any of them any better than 'you look like shit'?"
A pause. Then her shoulders slumped, combat stance deflated in an instant. The words were mumbled but he understood them perfectly. "No. Not really".
The man grinned before deciding to put the southern woman out of her misery. "Look. It wasn't about you Linds. I got a call from Danny."
His grin only slipped a little. Who could have guessed he had never had an acting lesson in his life? "The idiot managed to catch something and you know what a baby he can be when he's sick. So I drop out of work to take him to see a doctor. Didn't get a chance to call you guys for a few hours. Then after all my good charity he gives me a bit of the bug too, so I got laid up for the next few days."
Monroe smiled. "That's our Danny. He's such a giver."
"Right" even though he felt bad lying there was something about finally getting to speak to a friend that knew nothing of what had happened that was so rewarding. It was like for a moment Flack could pretend that the past few days had been normal. That he still had the same Danny as a friend that Lindsay knew. Not the changed person that had taken his place.
"So he's still laid up, but the doc says he'll be just fine. And yes I do look like shit, and I sure as hell feel like shit too. Happy?"
"Very much so, but. Uh. I'm gonna go over here now so I don't catch any weird mutated Danny virus off you." She backed away still facing him, as if afraid he might take the opportunity to pounce if she turned her back to him. With a final smile she bid him farewell with a quick wave. "Tell Danny I'm going to have to make him wear a mask when he gets back if he's that contagious. There is no way I want to catch whatever you got."
Problem solved and friendship mended Flack continued his search.
It only took him another minute. Stella had situated herself in one of the smallest and most isolated layout rooms. She looked so sad that Flack almost asked her what was wrong. Then he realised what a stupid question that would be. They both already knew what was wrong.
On the layout table was an evidence box. Written on the side in sharp black ink was the case number assigned to Danny.
He stepped in silent for a moment. Flack had put this off for longer than he should have. It was strange, he had wanted the results of the analysis so badly. Standing here now a evidence box filled with his best friend's clothes in front of him he hesitated.
Stella looked up, gracing him with a smile as he shut the door behind him. To Flack it only resembled a grimace.
"You can back out any time Don" The woman said, seeming to read his mind as usual. "There are other detectives who can work the case if I need help. This is too close to you."
"And what about you Stell?" The detective would like to think the words came out calm and professional. That neither of them heard a tell tale croak eroding the syllables. "Are you going to tell me all of this means nothing to you? That you aren't close to this too?"
A shake of the head. Brown curls battered against the air fiercely. "You know I care about Danny just as much as you do. But I'm not the one who has to be there every day helping him through this. You're already fighting one battle and its OK if you aren't up for taking on another just now. I can fight this one."
Lips quirked upwards as he offered her a smile, and just for a moment it almost felt genuine. "Look Stell. I know I've got to be more hands off with this one but you can't ask me to walk away from this. I've got to help to try and fix this mess."
A moments silence as she seemed to study him. Eventually the piercing gaze was dropped and the woman took two steps to the left to make room by the layout table for the other detective. He had passed the test for now at least. Though there was something in her grudging movements that suggested strongly to him that if she sensed any signs of this arrangement not working she would not hesitate to remove him from any involvement in the case.
"The cuts on his back" she started and he could not help but tense.
Looking at the picture of the wounds helpfully placed on the table made no difference. All Flack would ever see was that moment in the shower. Or afterwards when covering the cuts with a bandage after Danny had finally admitted that his inability to go to sleep was due to his shirt rubbing against the uncovered stitches.
Though the photograph had been taken at a time closer to their formation somehow the cuts still seemed more raw and more horrifying in his memory. He was glad Stella had not had to witness that yet.
"I've seen them" Don stated gruffly. "Do you think they found out he was a cop?"
She nodded, keeping her eyes on the evidence in front of her and not on the man at her side. "But what's curious is that Danny didn't have anything in his affects that said he was the member of the police force. Anything that so much as hinted he was a cop, his badge, his gun he left in his locker that night."
The man closed his eyes for a moment, a headache forming. "So this wasn't a random act of violence. They knew he was a cop and targeted him because of it?"
Pressing tense lips together Stella briefly shook her head in frustration. "I don't know Don. Either that or Danny told them. Or maybe we have it all wrong and the 'pig' isn't meant as a derogatory term for a cop but for something else."
"What I can tell you though is that whoever made those cuts was cold and calculating. There are a few hesitancy cuts at first, but after that nothing other than a couple of discrepancies that indicate he had to adjust his grip at various points. Left handed and strong is about all I can tell you about the guy. Some trace that came back as steel dust, but with no context that's not making sense at the moment."
His hand shook and he had to fight to hold back the anger rising at the lack of answers. Despite his experience in the field part of him still wanted this to be wrapped up as quickly as in those cop shows. If this were one of those shows they'd probably all be having some kind of victory celebration right now with all the perps behind bars.
"Did you find anything to go on Stell?"
"Yes. Listen I didn't tell you before because you were dealing with Danny and I didn't want to make you come in when he might need you. And I don't want you to feel you have to be involved in this part."
Suddenly her hands were gripping his arm tight, steel gaze boring into his own. He knew what she was doing. The greek woman was attempting to stabilise him. To keep him from doing some destructive act she knew he would commit if she uttered the next words.
"What Stell? What do ya' mean by this part?" It was difficult to keep the bite from invading the syllables.
"The DNA samples. They gave us a name, but listen we've already brought one of them in. We've got him Flack. You don't need to be involved in this part."
Apparently Stella knew his reactions better than even he did. Knew how despite his intention to remain calm and detached from the case, the moment the monster had a face the desire to pummel it was so bad he could barely breathe. Then as his mind processed the sentence more the air around him seemed to grow thinner.
"There was more than one?" All this time it had only been one monster in his imagination. The idea that there were two people out there evil enough to do this to his friend had been unthinkable. It was difficult enough to grasp that one man had hurt his friend.
The idea he had been building over the past couple of days. Of standing back and being a supportive but passive participant in this case seemed laughable.
"Listen Flack-"
"Where's the other one Stell?"
"Flack you've got to be-"
"No Stell. Where is the other man who did this to my friend?" Gritted teeth were the only thing that prevented the words from being shouted.
"We picked up the first guy mere hours after the bolo was put out. And I promise you Don we'll get the other guy too. I'm handling this Flack and if you can't be in control over yourself then I don't want you near this part of the case. There is no way you are going to mess up my chances of a conviction. You just have to trust me and stay away from this part of the case. You just have to trust me."
He could hear his own words echoing in his head. That he knew he had to be hands off in this one, and he did but this was too much to ask. Stella hadn't seen Danny in that alley. Stella hadn't seen the kind of damage this had done to their friend.
Before he realised it his hand was moving towards the file, fingers flicking though pages of stats and graphs before they found the right one. Flack took a breath taking in the information from the codis match.
"Flack?"
Ever since that moment in the alley. Ever since he had seen Danny sitting in that hospital bed. Ever since he had seen in that shower how they had carved up his friend's back. He had been waiting for this moment.
The monster – monsters now had a face. Fists shook with the realisation that now here were the real targets he had been searching for. These were the real ones to blame for what had happened to his best friend.
One of them was just downstairs. On impulse he took a step toward the door.
"Flack. No!"