Author's Notes: Here's chapter 2. Hope you continue to enjoy. I have to work a basketball tournament tomorrow at school so don't expect another update until maybe late Sunday.
Disclaimer: CBS, Anthony E. Zuiker, Carol Mendelsohn, and Ann Donahue own all rights to the characters and premise of the show. I am making no money off this story and it is for entertainment purposes only. However, this particular story is my creation and should not be used without my express written permission.
Attack
Chapter 2
Consciousness returned to Lindsay one annoying drop at a time just like when she forgot to double check the tap on the bathroom faucet before she went to bed. The first thing she was aware of was voices loud enough to be heard but yet too low to make out any actual words. Her brain was still too cottony to piece together whether she even knew these voices or not. The next was the smell of antiseptic and it was enough to make her want to vomit. It was that same smell she associated with dentists and doctors and she hated it with a passion she'd never been able to put in words. Her eyes began to flutter open but bright lights made them shut just as quickly as they opened. This was okay; if she was where the smells suggested she was, she didn't particularly care to see her surroundings. Pain was her final confrontation with the return to consciousness. Wave after wave of aching and throbbing misery that threatened to upend her stomach contents faster than the smell of antiseptic had.
She couldn't stop the moan that crossed her lips and there was an immediate reaction. The voices over her body that were speaking words she couldn't make out changed tone and volume. A hand that she supposed was comforting gave her arm a gentle pat being careful not to jar any of her injuries. A deep male voice that she definitely didn't recognize offered verbal reassurances and then a caution to remain completely still.
Fear of not knowing exactly what was happening filled Lindsay's soul and at the admonishment to keep still, her body did the absolute opposite. She tried to pitch to one side to get away from the unknown voice, just in case it meant harm instead of the reassurances it offered. Firm but gentle hands tried to hold her in place and as much as she wanted to fight against them, Lindsay discovered she was still too weak to do anything other than cause herself more pain. So instead, she tried to pay close attention to what the voices were saying.
"Go get Detective Taylor. He's still in Curtain 4. Detective Monroe, you are safe. I'm Dr. Terry, attending ER physician at Trinity Hospital. I need you to be still. I'm putting in a few stitches to the gash on your face so it will minimize scarring. If you continue to move around, it's going to make it that much harder to treat your wound. I only have a couple of more stitches and I'm through. Are you okay with that?"
"Yes." In contrast to his deep rich voice, Lindsay's was barely a whisper but it was all the reassurance that the doctor needed. A second later, she felt the familiar tug of the needle being pulled and was thankful the numbing agent the doctor must have given her while she was still unconscious was working so well. As promised, less than a moment later, the drape that had covered the area around the wound was removed and she risked opening her eyes once again. It was only then that she realized that only one eye seemed to be open and the other appeared to have quit responding to her brain's commands. But at least time the lights didn't seem quite so bright and she could keep the one eye open. "How bad?"
Just the three words she'd uttered had sent fresh waves of pain coursing through her and she knew it wasn't just a simple cut the doctor had been stitching up. She wanted to sit up and take inventory of the damage but wasn't sure her body was up to such a movement. Instead she waited to hear him catalogue her injuries for her. "Nothing as bad as I initially feared when you were brought in. Hairline fractures to the cheekbone, right radius, and three ribs; not to mention massive bruises. Considering I thought we'd be dealing with major breaks, I'd say you are one lucky young woman. Not that that will prevent the pain from being any less unfortunately."
Before the doctor could continue Mac Taylor stepped into the cubicle and Lindsay tuned the doctor out. Forgetting her fear of pain, she struggled to sit up but the doctor immediately pressed her gently but firmly back down. Then he raised the bed so that she could sit up properly without straining any of her bruised and sore muscles.
"Mac, Danny didn't do this." Her declaration was simple but it was clear to everyone in the room how painful those few words had been for her as her talking manipulated the injured cheek bone.
Mac pulled a stool close to the bed so he could sit next to her without her straining to talk to him. So much had happened since that phone call from Flack that he thought he was through being shocked by declarations but hers still managed to surprise him. He sighed. "Lindsay, about two dozen eyewitnesses including five officers tell a different story. They all agree it was Danny who hurt you."
Tears filled her eyes but didn't spill over. She shook her head groaning with pain as she did so. The doctor shot them both a concerned glare. "Detectives, I don't think it's good for Detective Monroe to be talking so much after just waking up. But I've patched up enough officers to know I'd have better luck talking to that wall over there, so at least let me give you something for pain before it gets out of control."
If he had expected an argument, then he was pleasantly surprised that she didn't protest but seemed to almost welcome the offer. As soon as he left to retrieve the painkiller, Lindsay reached out with her left hand and gripped Mac's arm, her strength surprising considering her condition. "It may have been Danny's fists but it wasn't him. I looked him dead in the eyes after the first punch and I didn't recognize the man looking at me. I don't understand what happened but he wasn't himself from the moment he first hit me. Please don't punish him."
He made sure he had her full attention. He appreciated the painful cost such a lengthy speech had cost her, but he had to be truthful. "Lindsay, you know this job; we need irrefutable evidence to back up your statement. We're doing everything we can to prove exactly what happened. I do know that Danny's going to appreciate your vote of confidence more than anything though. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary before the attack?"
She seemed to shudder at the word attack but then shook her head. "No, it was just lunch. One second everything was fine and then the next it was horribly wrong."
Her lower lip quivered and Mac could tell she was struggling not to cry. It wasn't an emotion he was used to seeing in the young woman from Montana. She always seemed so self-assured and in control that seeing her struggle to maintain a semblance of control now bothered him as much as her injuries. He couldn't even be sure if her near tears were a result of the pain she was experiencing or the memory of what she'd endured. He hated to press her further but knew he had to.
"What about the older bruises on your shoulder and arm? How did that happen?"
For a moment Lindsay didn't respond but looked embarrassed. "You saw them?"
Mac nodded. "Stella discovered them when she was documenting your injuries. Lindsay, did Danny-"
"No! God, no." Lindsay shook her head and then groaned at the pain. "It's not what you think. I was just stupid and not paying attention and ran into something."
Mac knew she was lying or at the very least not telling the whole truth. The hand print ring had to have been caused by someone else and they both knew that. Still he could see she would shut down on him if he pressed her for the truth. He could let the matter drop for now; there would be time for insisting on the whole story later.
Dr. Terry returned and injected the contents of a syringe into Lindsay's IV. He studied her carefully trying to get an idea of her condition both physically and mentally. She appeared to be weepy and a little emotional. It wasn't unusual for an assault victim to be much more overly emotional but even at that, he could tell by Mac's expression that even this small show of tears was more than he was used to from the young woman.
"I'm afraid there's not much I can do for the hairline fractures in your cheek and ribs. Time will heal them without any intervention from me. Your wrist however I want to brace to prevent further injury. I won't lie to you; casting or bracing is going to hurt worse than usual with the bruising you're going to have on that arm. Padding the brace will help but won't eliminate all the pain. Still the discomfort is better than risking you further breaking your arm by moving it the wrong way as it heals."
"Can I go home?" Lindsay asked quietly. Even though her cheek bone didn't really move when she talked, the swelling on that side of her face throbbed with more pain every time she tried to speak.
The doctor sighed but wasn't really surprised by the question. After all, who really wanted to spend time in a hospital anyway? "I want to keep you a couple more hours at least to monitor your pain level but I don't see much reason to admit you so long as there is someone who'll keep an eye on you for the next couple of days. You going to be in major pain and will need strong painkillers to dull that pain. You don't need to be alone while on that heavy of medication. Do you have a roommate?"
Her face fell with the realization that a truthful admission would probably mean he wouldn't release her. It crossed Lindsay's mind to lie but instead she shook her head. Mac knew she lived alone and would probably rat her out anyway if she'd tried to lie. Mac squeezed her hand. He offered a solution to both Lindsay and the doctor. "I have a spare bedroom. She can stay with me for a few days until she's back on her feet."
"Thanks, Mac." A couple of tears slipped down Lindsay's cheeks and she winced as the saltiness of the tear stung the stitched up cut on her cheek. Her eyes were getting heavy even though she'd only just regained consciousness. She blinked, the one swollen lid barely moved as she tried to force both of them to stay open. Dr. Terry noticed.
"Don't fight the sleep. I know you just woke up but the painkiller I gave you was a pretty strong one; it'll make you drowsy. Rest is the best medicine I can recommend. You're stuck here for a couple of hours anyway; sleep will help the time pass faster."
"Don't want to sleep." Lindsay muttered, already half asleep despite her protests. "Want to help Danny." Then her eyes lost their fight and sleep overtook her. The doctor smiled.
"I'll have a nurse come in later and put a bandage over those stitches and put the brace on her arm."
Mac nodded his thanks and then motioned for the doctor to join him away from Lindsay's bed. It wasn't that he didn't want her to overhear but he didn't want to disturb the young woman's sleep. "How long are you expecting to keep Danny?"
Dr. Terry frowned. "When both your officers were brought in, I would have sworn that I'd be admitting Detective Monroe and releasing Detective Messer probably before the tox results came back. However, I don't care if you have a mansion of spare bedrooms; I'm not releasing him until his blood pressure comes down and stays down."
"Good." Mac could tell he had surprised the doctor. "I was going to ask that you keep him as long as you can. Maybe even a couple of days."
"I'm hoping his blood pressure comes down much quicker than that. It's dangerous for it to stay elevated much longer. If you want him to remain for a couple of days, I'd recommend letting me call in a psych consult. Based on what I've heard and seen I think he's proven to be both a danger to himself and others to warrant a 72 hours psych hold but I'll need our on call psychiatrist to make that determination. I wanted to suggest it but figured it would go over like a 2-ton lead balloon."
Mac nodded. It cut him to the soul to agree but it really was for the best. "Do it. "
Dr. Terry nodded. "I think Dr. Peterson is on call today. This is his specialty. I'll give him a call."
After the doctor left, Mac returned to the stool. He was surprised to see that Lindsay's good eye was open and staring at him accusingly. "Danny's not going to like the idea of a psych hold."
"Probably not." Mac agreed, upset that his attempts not to wake her up had been in vain. "But he'd like the alternative even less. As soon as he's released from the hospital, he'll be arrested on assault charges."
If possible, Lindsay paled making her injures stand out even more prominently. "But I'm not going to press charges."
Mac rubbed his eyes, wishing for a moment he could ask Dr. Terry to give him something to help his own blood pressure and the headache that was forming in his temples. "I'm going to assume the medication and your injuries have you not thinking clearly. You know as well as I do with the new domestic violence laws, assault arrests can be made with or without the victim's cooperation."
He felt bad seeing her wince at the word victim almost as if she'd been hit once more. It was just as hard for him to think of her as a victim as it was for her to hear it. Her lower lip trembled even more. "I don't want Danny in trouble because of me."
Seeing a box of tissue on the night stand, Mac pulled one out and carefully wiped away the tears threatening to spill over her red-rimmed eyes. "He's not in trouble because of you. He's in trouble because of his actions. I hope to hell that there's a reasonable explanation for all this but I need time to prove it. I can defend his job against a psych hold especially if there's a justifiable reason for your current physical condition but I'd have a harder time doing so against an assault arrest on his jacket."
She started to cross both arms across her chest but groaned in pain at the first movement and instead relented to being completely still so as not to cause herself further pain. "Mac, you've known Danny longer than I have. I thought you were his friend. How can you doubt him?"
"I have known Danny for many years now and I do count him as a friend but that doesn't change the job I have to do. The evidence, not our personal feelings, dictates the course of the investigation. We're scientists, Lindsay; you know that. I had to do it when the evidence suggested he might have been involved with the death of that murder victim we discovered at Giants stadium. My heart agrees with you that Danny just isn't capable of the kind of violence it takes to cause your injuries. But my head can't forget seeing you lying on that stretcher outside the diner and it taking me a minute to even recognize it was actually you. It can't deny the evidence that is staring back at me right now. I want to believe the best in Danny but I need an explanation as to what would cause him to snap like that. Maybe that makes me seem like a traitor but it's the only way I can be completely fair to you, Danny, and the integrity of the lab in general."
His cell phone chirped and he was surprised that it hadn't gone off at least a dozen times all ready. He apologized to Lindsay and stepped to the hallway to take the call. It was of course Sinclair demanding that Mac return to the lab and answer questions about what had happened. Mac wanted to protest that he was still needed at the hospital but knew it would do no good. Perhaps if he answered Sinclair's questions, he could further protect Danny's job. He promised Sinclair that he'd be there in thirty minutes and hung up the phone. He returned to Lindsay. "I have to go before Sinclair blows a gasket. I'll be back before the doctor is ready to release you. Do you have clothes at the lab that I can bring back for you?"
Lindsay nodded once, grateful that Mac had considered her need for something to wear when released. "Just bring me the gym bag out my locker. You've got the master code to unlock it. It'll have everything I'll need right away. Then maybe we can stop at my apartment for anything else."
Mac promised and then leaned down and pressed a kiss above her left eye. "Do what the doctor tells you to do. Get some rest. Flack is down the hall with Danny. I'll tell him to check in on you in a little while."
"Can I see him?" Lindsay's voice was almost slurring as sleep was just about to overtake her once again. Mac knew the him she meant but decided to play dumb. "Sure, you'll see Flack when he comes to check on you. Until then, stay in bed and get some sleep. That's an order."
If he'd hoped she'd fall asleep before she could protest, he was disappointed. She frowned, but only the left half of her mouth turned downward. The other side was too swollen to move much. "Not Flack; Danny. I need him to know I don't blame him.'
It hadn't escaped his notice that she seemed more concerned about Danny than her own condition. In his years as an officer, he'd worked just about every kind of call possible. The hardest for him outside of crimes against children was interviewing women who had been abused. Too often they blamed themselves or put their abusers feelings ahead of their own. Somehow, hearing it from Lindsay was even worse. "There'll be time for that later. Right now, your health is more important. I mean it, Lindsay. Follow the doctor's orders to the letter or I'll have you on dumpster diving duty until the next millennium. Understand?"
"Promise." Her eyes were once more closed and he hoped that this time she'd sleep for longer.
- CSI: NY - CSI: NY - CSI: NY -
Lindsay's mother had always sworn that even from the womb Lindsay had been a restless sleeper. She simply wasn't capable of lying completely still. Even in a deep sleep, she was constantly changing positions, tossing and turning the way other people do when having trouble sleeping. For her it was simply her normal sleeping routine. Which was possibly why she was currently finding sleep, despite the heavy medication, so difficult. Succumbing to the heavy fatigue that kept pulling her into dreamland was easy and following the doctor's orders to rest wasn't a problem until she tried to change position. Then a fresh wave of pain washed over her that was greater than the sedative aspects of the painkiller and she was roughly pulled from sleep.
Waking for what seemed to be the hundredth time since Mac had left, Lindsay wasn't surprised to see that she was no longer alone. It seemed like every time she woke up some new medical person was there to check on her or to do something else. One time, a nurse had been set to apologize for waking her to put the padded brace on her wrist and to bandage her cheek. The last time she'd woken up, a different nurse had given her another shot for pain. This time, a man she didn't recognize but whose white coat labeled him as a doctor was sitting on the stool next to the bed making notes in a file. He looked up when she groaned slightly and smiled.
"Who are you?" Her tone was probably more accusatory than she really meant it to be but she blamed it on a combination of the pain and lack of being able to sleep.
"I'm Dr. Peterson. Dr. Terry asked me to consult on Detective Messer's case."
Lindsay fumbled with the controls on the bed to raise the bed slightly higher. "Is Danny okay?"
"I heard you groaning when you woke up. Do you need something else for pain? Your injuries look quite painful." The psychiatrist looked genuinely concerned despite the fact that he had ignored her question about Danny.
"No, I'm fine. They pretty much just gave me something. It just hurts when I move. How is Danny?" Perhaps he hadn't heard her ask the first time.
"I understand that you and Detective Messer work together. I have to figure out if he is a danger to himself or others or if his attack on you today was an isolated incident. It would help me to get your insight on what happened at the diner." As he sat there talking to her, he was almost constantly clicking his pen open and shut. The sound grated on her nerves.
It was also grating on her nerves that he had once again ignored her question. "Danny isn't a danger to anyone. He wasn't responsible for what happened. Now, please, I heard Dr. Terry tell Mac earlier that he was concerned about Danny. Is he okay?"
"Then how do you explain his unprovoked attack on you today? I've seen many victims of assault and it takes an unprecedented amount of viciousness to cause the kind of injuries you sustained."
Once again, Lindsay reached for the controls on the bed, raising it until it wouldn't go any further. Pushing aside the blanket she'd been covered with, Lindsay gritted her teeth as she started to swing her legs over the side of the bed.
Instantly alarmed, the doctor rose to stop her. "Detective Monroe, I don't think you are ready to get out of bed just yet. Where are you going?"
"To check on Danny. I've asked you three times about him and you've ignored my questions all three times. That tells me that either you are such an arrogant jerk that doesn't think my concerns are important or you are trying to avoid giving me bad news. Therefore, I'm going to find out myself how he is."
The doctor was instantly contrite. "Please, stay in bed. I'm sorry I upset you; it wasn't my intention. Detective Messer is going to be just fine. Physically, he's going to be just fine. knuckles . Emotionally, that's up to him. When I talked to him, it was easy to see he was pretty agitated. From what Dr. Terry told me when he called me down, Detective Messer's blood pressure is higher than what he'd like and he's trying to treat that. Figuring out what happened will probably help that. Are you willing to help me do that?"
She gave him his answer by readjusting the blanket over her legs and lowering the bed just slightly. He smiled. "Thank you. How about you start by telling me a little about your relationship with Detective Messer."
"We're partners at work and we're friends both at work and off duty."
He made a few notes in his chart. "Just friends? Or are the two of you friends with benefits?"
Lindsay rolled her eyes; the desired effect diminished by the fact that the doctor could only see the movement of one of her eyes. Was he really going to try to turn this into a lover's spat gone violent? And really, how did she explain the complicated relationship she had with Danny. She knew he was attracted to her. That attraction hadn't gone away just because she'd insisted that she wasn't in a place to pursue a romantic relationship with him or anyone at the moment. And if she were honest with herself she was attracted to him. If things weren't so horribly complicated with her past raising its ugly head just as her life was finally starting to be what she wanted it to be she'd be more than willing on risking her heart to the Staten Island native. She knew she'd hurt him terribly when she'd stood him up for what would have been their first date. It had been all the worse because she couldn't bring herself to tell him the whole truth about the night she was supposed to meet him. But even though he'd been hurt, she knew he'd never hurt her because of it. Instead, he'd put aside the hurt he'd felt to reach out to her in a moment he'd instinctively known she was in a bad place. "Good friends; that's all. We trust each other to have the other's back. I keep him safe and he does the same for me."
"From what I read about what happened at the diner, you kept up your end of that bargain today. Too bad Detective Messer didn't do the same."
"Go to hell." Lindsay's voice was steely and even.
Once again, Dr. Peterson offered words of contrition. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to step on a nerve. I'm just trying to get a good perspective of all this. The brief amount of time I spent with Detective Messer earlier left me with the distinct impression that he wasn't happy I'd been called in to consult on his case."
I can't imagine why he'd feel that way. It was on the tip of her tongue to mutter the thought that came so easily to mind but Lindsay stayed silent. Like it or not, Dr. Peterson could be all that stood between Danny and a jail cell. Danny, and it appeared she as well, would have to suffer through his questions to get the psych hold.
Dr. Peterson continued. "Do you have any idea what caused him to attack you the way he did?"
"If I did, you wouldn't be needed." This time, Lindsay couldn't catch the retort before it left her mouth. She took a deep breath, wincing as the move caused her ribs to twinge. She blinked sleepily. "Danny didn't act of his own volition. He's not capable of the violence he demonstrated today. I don't know if he was drugged or what happened but I know he wouldn't have willingly laid a hand on me or anyone else."
"Because he's one of the good guys?" Dr. Peterson countered. "You don't think it's possible for a good man to do evil acts?"
"I'm a crime scene investigator. I've arrested people whose neighbors and loved ones insisted weren't capable of committing the crimes we accuse them of. I'm not naïve; but I do know what I saw. Something changed in Danny as he suddenly turned violent. He was a different person. That kind of abrupt change doesn't happen without reason."
Dr. Peterson made a notation on his chart and then fixed her in a steady gaze. "And you believe that reason was out of his control."
"No doubt in my mind." Lindsay's return gaze was just as steady.
"You seem to have more faith in him than he has in himself. He's down the hall beating himself up mentally just as severely as he beat you. He's drowning in a sea of guilt that you don't seem to think he should be swimming in."
Lindsay wasn't surprised. She'd seen how guilty he'd felt after his brother had been beaten up trying to obtain proof that Danny hadn't been involved in the death of the guy they'd discovered buried at Giants stadium. He'd blamed himself for his brother's injuries and he hadn't been there when it happened. Regardless of the reasons, it had been his hands that had inflicted the injuries that were making themselves painfully known. How much worse would his guilt be from this? It wasn't the kind of thing he was going to get over easily. "The fact that he does feel guilty should tell you more about his character than anything I could say about him."
Rising from the stool, Dr. Peterson crossed to a cabinet and pulled another hospital gown. He handed it to Lindsay. She took it, looking from the material to the psychiatrist. "What's this for?"
"Use it like a robe. I don't much figure you want to flash the entire emergency department when you go down the hall to see Detective Messer."
Lindsay had all but begged Mac earlier to let her see Danny and he'd put her off. Before he left he'd threatened her with dumpster duty if she didn't follow doctor's orders. "You're going to let me see Danny?"
Dr. Peterson nodded. "Consider it my way of apologizing for worrying you earlier."
She didn't trust him. She had a feeling his reasons had less to do with making up for his earlier behavior and more to do with psychoanalyzing Danny's reaction to her presence. Whatever his reasons, she wasn't about to miss out on this chance to get what she wanted without disobeying Mac's orders. She let the doctor help her with the second gown.
Once she was properly covered, Dr. Peterson left the curtained area to procure a wheelchair. Moving from the bed to the wheelchair hurt but Lindsay tried not to let it show just how much. Dr. Peterson pushed her down the hall to the cubicle that held Danny.
- CSI: NY - CSI: NY - CSI: NY -
"For the last time, no." Flack practically growled at his best friend.
Danny slammed his head back against the stretcher in frustration. Once he'd awakened from the medicated sleep the sedative had all but forced upon him, he'd given up trying to break free of the straps holding him to the stretcher. He'd realized it was futile to even try and that he was only hurting himself in the attempt. Of course, if what they had told him was true, he deserved any amount of pain he caused himself.
"What's the big deal? I heard Mac tell you to keep an eye on her. So go keep an eye on her. It's not like I'm going to be able to go anywhere while you're gone. Check to see how she's doing; make sure she's okay."
"Danny, Mac also said she was asleep and that that's what the doctor wanted her to do. I'm not gonna risk going in there and waking her up just to ease your conscience. Monroe's been through enough."
Danny looked down at his hands. He'd been in more than his fair share of fights in his life but he'd never raised his hand to a woman. It's not something he thought he was capable of doing to any woman, least of all Montana. He wanted to curse, shout, and maybe even throw things until they told him it was all a mistake and that his Montana hadn't been beaten by anyone but especially not by him. However, he couldn't deny the truth his split knuckles told. He'd been in a fight and considering he had no injuries other than his busted hands, he'd been the victor. It just didn't make sense. He'd always held nothing but contempt for cowards who felt like they had to control women by beating them into submission. He wouldn't be that person and he was pretty confident Lindsay Monroe wasn't the type of woman who would give any man that opportunity. He closed his eyes, wishing he could just tear off the wires that ran from the pads on his chest to the machine and put an end to the incessant beeping that was driving him crazy.
"You saw her though, right? Earlier?"
Flack nodded even though Danny couldn't see him with his eyes closed. "Yeah, I saw her at the diner. You heard Mac; the doctor said her injuries weren't as bad as he initially thought. She's going to be fine, Danny. They aren't even going to admit her to the hospital."
Danny opened his eyes but couldn't look at his friend. "She shouldn't have been here in the first place. Stella was right earlier. I promised her that I wouldn't hurt Montana but I did. I promised Lindsay that I'd be her friend and help her through whatever the hell she's going through and instead I beat the shit out of her. I don't even remember any of it. Mac was asking me earlier what I remember. I've tried and I've tried but I can't. We were arguing about something; not real fighting but jokingly; you know? I just can't remember about what."
"Which is the better pizza, Chicago or New York style."
Both men looked toward the opening of the cubicle where Lindsay sat in her wheelchair being pushed in by Dr. Peterson. Danny drank in her appearance, making mental notice of each and every bruise. Danny's stomach turned at the viciousness of her injuries. "Shit, Montana. What have I done?"