Author's Note: I meant to get a new chapter of Begin Anew up last weekend but the truth was I pretty much took a writing free weekend. And the next chapter is not coming along the way I want it to. This week wasn't much better time wise in order to get much writing done. Hopefully maybe I can get it ready soon. So instead, here's another chapter for Attack. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed; some suspicions are spot on but I'm not going to say which ones. Hope you continue to enjoy.
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 13
Mac was no stranger to insomnia. In the immediate years that followed 9/11, he had experienced probably more dream-tossed or completely sleepless nights than he did restful slumbers. As the years passed, his sleep patterns leveled out more but were not without the occasional haunting nightmares or nights that passed from dusk to dawn without him closing his eyes for more than thirty minutes at a time. Therefore, it didn't faze him that several times during the night, he'd awoken to the sounds of painful groans and shouts bitten off mid cry. The first time, it had taken him a moment or two to realize that this time the cries hadn't come from himself but from his current apartment-guest. He didn't mind the interruption of sleep but it pained him knowing his youngest CSI was going through such turmoil. He felt to blame, or rather that his actions earlier at the hospital were. After all, the night before hadn't been that troubled.
Each time he heard her, he'd left his bed and went to he spare bedroom. Each time, his hand had firmly grasped the door knob, ready to go in and comfort the young woman. Each time, he'd gotten so far as to cracking the door ever so slightly. Then each time, he closed it without stepping foot inside. It wasn't that he didn't want to be there for the young woman or that he thought she was okay. Instead it had to do more with sudden intake of breath he heard each time he cracked the door. He knew that sound just as well as he knew the sounds of a nightmare. It was the sound that spoke of dread of what might come. He had felt her pull away from him on the walk from the garage to the apartment and knew that she was still working out what had happened at the hospital in her head. He didn't want to make things worse for her by forcing unwanted comfort on her. If she wanted or needed him, he trusted that she would come to him. So instead, he would close the door and listen for several minutes on the other side until he was sure she was once more asleep before returning to his own bed.
At four o'clock in the morning, Mac gave up on trying to sleep any further and got ready for his day. Once in the kitchen he started a pot of coffee knowing that Lindsay would probably need the caffeine as much as he did. He heard the shower running in the spare bedroom and knew she had given up on sleep as well. He had a mug of coffee ready for her as soon as she emerged from the bedroom. With an almost shy smile, she took the offered drink and followed him to the kitchen island.
"You okay?" Mac asked, his tone carefully neutral. He was concerned about her but didn't want to pressure her to talk if she wasn't ready or if she was still upset with him.
She nodded. "I will be." She saw his own tired eyes that probably mirrored her own. She took a small sip of the almost scalding liquid. Then she set the mug on the countertop. "I kept you up, didn't I? I'm sorry."
Mac waved off her concerns. "It wouldn't be the first time I didn't get much sleep. Bad dreams?"
She nodded, a soft shudder running down her spine. There was no way she wanted to discuss the worst her mind had to offer her during the night. It was one of the reasons she'd gotten real still during the night when he would open the bedroom door. "Painkillers do that to me. One of the reasons why I avoid taking them unless I absolutely have to. Unfortunately, this time it was a necessity but I pay for it when I try to sleep."
Her reasoning made sense but he still felt there was probably more. He paid attention to his own coffee for a couple of minutes. He would have to go into the lab today and he knew Sinclair was going to want the rest of the answers to the questions he had about what happened. Answers that Mac still didn't have. How could he find out without further jeopardizing his relationship with Lindsay? Suddenly he had an idea.
"I know you are on medical leave but do you think you can help me out a little on a case that's giving me trouble?" He felt bad when her face instantly lit up.
"Of course, do I need to come with you to the lab?"
He shook his head. "No, more like I want your opinion on the matter. We got a body beaten to a bloody pulp but no defensive wounds. Natural instinct is to defend yourself under an attack. What would make a person not fight back? Not protect themselves?"
Lindsay toyed with her coffee cup thinking carefully. "It could be different for any person under any given circumstances. The most likely reason would be that they didn't see the attack coming and weren't able to defend themselves or were somehow prevented from fighting back. If that's not it, then something else kept them from reacting. Maybe they've tried fighting back before and it only made things worse so they've given up. Maybe they were protecting someone or something. Maybe they just didn't feel like they were worth fighting for. Unless the victim can speak for himself, there's no way to know other than speculation."
Mac nodded and rose from his side of the island. He came around the counter and took Lindsay by the hand leading her down the hall to where a medium-sized mirror hung on the wall. He positioned her so that she could see her reflection in the glass. "This victim can speak for herself. So what's her excuse?"
Lindsay glared at him slightly, now aware that she'd fallen for his trap. She moved away from the mirror and sank into the couch, her arms folded protectively across her chest. "I'm sure you must have a theory. Why do you think I didn't fight Danny?"
Mac shook his head, seating himself in the chair next to the couch. "I don't know. I've been struggling with the question since I got to the diner the other day and saw what had happened. I know that it wasn't because you couldn't defend yourself. Danny is bigger than you and maybe stronger but I've seen you take down guys twice my size. Even though Danny was under the influence of the spray and the steroids, you could have fought him. You might not have won but you would have given as well as you took. But you didn't. Worse, you told everybody else who tried to intervene to stay back. You stepped in front of a tazer blast that would have ended the attack immediately. I don't understand it Lindsay; worse, Sinclair doesn't understand it. He's going to demand answers but I'm concerned enough to want them. I'm not one to speculate so please explain it to me."
Lindsay had put Mac off on any discussion of the old bruises or her actions at ever step of the way but knew she couldn't do so any longer. She made herself as comfortable on the couch as she could since there was no way the conversation would offer any comfort at all. "I didn't know what was going on but I knew something was horribly wrong. Danny wasn't acting like Danny. As much as I hate to admit it, at that moment I didn't know what he might be capable of. As long as he was focused on beating the shit out of me, his attention and anger wasn't being directed to the other customers. I was afraid of what might happen if someone intervened or if I made his fight difficult for him. At least with me, he was using his fists and his feet; what if he had a moment to pull his gun? We had left our regular service revolvers at the lab when we went for lunch but I knew Danny always carries his back up piece in his ankle holster. Someone could have been killed and drugged or not, it would have been a whole lot harder to protect him from those kind of charges or the guilt you know he would feel if his actions cost someone their life."
Mac hadn't considered the issue of the weapon but had to agree with Lindsay's judgment of what that outcome would have been. "And the tazer? He couldn't have hurt anyone or gone for his back-up piece if he were unconscious."
Lindsay nodded. "I was scared of what damage the electrical charge might do to Danny. I know it's a less lethal way to subdue a person but I had no idea what had caused Danny to snap the way he did and how the cause of that might interact with the tazer. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt and I didn't want Danny to get hurt either."
Her reasoning sounded more like Lindsay than the arguments he kept hearing at the hospital about her being an abuse victim but still it bothered him that she willingly took on so much pain. "You were lucky that your injuries weren't worse. He could have killed you."
She shrugged. "I trusted that he wouldn't even under the influence of whatever had caused him to attack. Besides if it hadn't been me hurt, it probably would have been someone else and I couldn't live with that. It's my job to protect people, not willingly put them in harm's way."
Mac sighed. "Your safety is just as important as everyone else's."
"But it's not any more important. I could handle what was happening. I couldn't handle it if someone else got hurt because of me. I swore I wouldn't let that happen again." Too late she realized she'd said more than she wanted and hoped Mac wouldn't jump on her statement.
He did. "Again? What are you talking about, Lindsay? Who got hurt because of you?"
Lindsay lowered her eyes and wished that a hole would open up in Mac's apartment and swallow her up. Only two people who actually knew her knew about that event and only one of them knew the full story. It was the one aspect of her life she hadn't shared even with Micah. She didn't want to rehash bad memories to Mac, especially because those memories had been assaulting her all night in her nightmares, sometimes as direct memories and others, like the one she had at the hospital, distorted images of the real event. She shook her head. "Don't you have to get to work?"
"I am working. I'm getting a victim's statement." Mac leaned over and touched her knee gently, his expression soft and concerned. "More importantly, I'm your friend and I care about what happens to you, past and present. I hear the guilt in your voice. Tell me what happened."
She shook her head again. "It'll change the way you think about me. Your opinion matters to me and I don't want you to be disappointed in me."
"I'm not here to judge you." He had a feeling her remarks had something to do with the shooting she survived as a teenager. He'd vowed that he wouldn't force her to talk about the time unless she broached the subject first, but, he argued with himself, she sort of did mention it first with the statement she made. "Lindsay, nothing you have to say could change my opinion of you."
Lindsay still seemed reluctant but had run out of arguments other than to just refuse to talk. She gave that idea serious consideration but finally decided that the more fuss she put about not talking would just make things seem worse. Finally she took a deep breath, wincing at the twinge that pulled in her ribs. "It happened during my freshman year at college." She began but had a hard time continuing.
Mac didn't interrupt her even though he realized that she wasn't referring to the diner shooting. In order to give her a moment to collect her thoughts, he retrieved their coffee mugs from the counter and then returned to the chair next to the couch. She took the drink he offered her and allowed the still hot liquid to warm her hands that suddenly felt ice cold.
"You were in college you said." Mac prompted gently just to get her started again.
She had a faraway look in her eyes and Mac wasn't sure she even remembered where she was currently. "If you look up the term Big Man on Campus you would probably have found his picture. Star of the football team, fraternity president, dean's list, buildings on campus named for his family in honor of the large donations they had given the university, you name an honor, he had it. All the girls had crushes on him but for some reason he chose me to date. I'd never dated much in high school so I was over the moon when he first asked me out. What someone like him saw in someone like me, I had no idea."
All his life, Mac had heard girls coyly use lines like that in order to fish for a compliment. Unfortunately in this case, he had a feeling Lindsay truly didn't comprehend her own beauty. The fact that she seemed completely unaware of just how attractive she really was only added to how special she really was. Mac was pretty sure it was one of the things that had captured Danny's interest almost from the very beginning.
She pressed on as if she were alone in the room. "We'd been going out for about a month. It was wonderful; he made me feel special and loved. Sure everything we did revolved around his interests but it didn't bother me. This particular night we had gone to one of the clubs just off campus. I didn't drink but he had several beers. It wasn't really my scene at all but I knew it was his and was willing to make the best of it since he was having a good time. It had been a long day; I had stayed up way too late the night before studying for a test and gotten up even earlier to take it. I was exhausted and finally pleaded that we make it an early night. To my surprise he agreed without an argument, even seemed eager to leave the club himself. He escorted me back to my dorm. I figured he would walk me to the door and then leave but he followed me inside. It was a Thursday night and my roommate had already left to go home for the weekend. At first it was nice; he was a really good kisser and he knew how to make my legs turn to jelly." A warm flush crept up her cheeks as she suddenly remembered who she was talking to.
Ordinarily Mac would have smiled at her embarrassment but was too worried about where her story was going. It hadn't escaped his notice that even now, years later, she hadn't identified this guy by even so much as a first name. He wanted to point out ask what happened but allowed her to continue uninterrupted.
"I was so caught up in how good it all felt that he had me almost completely undressed before I even knew what was happening. I pushed him away and told him I wasn't ready to take that step, not with him or with anyone. He seemed surprised; I just figured no one had ever told him no before. I expected him to say he understood and hoped I wasn't ruining our relationship by putting him off. Instead he slapped me and pushed me down on the bed…" In her mind, she returned to that night.
Suddenly a hand was gripping her hair tightly, jerking her head backward. The grip he had on the back of her head threatened to pull her hair out by its roots. Tears of pain filled her eyes. He pressed his lips against hers. How many nights had she spent enjoying just kissing him? Feeling his tongue sweep into hers so that every inch of her mouth felt thoroughly lavished with attention? But this didn't just feel wrong, it was scary. She kept her lips tightly together not allowing his tongue the entry he was seeking. He growled again and then bit her lower lip sharply, drawing blood. She couldn't suppress the cry of pain and in that moment, his tongue pushed its way into her mouth almost gagging her. She had trusted him; he really wouldn't hurt her would he? He broke off the kiss and she was glad, hopeful that maybe he was seeing reason at last. Instead he grinned wickedly.
"We've been going out for awhile and the most you've let me do is kiss you senseless. I've been patient long enough. It's time for you to put up or shut up. I'm gonna fuck you so hard your eyes are gonna pop out of your head. I tried to make this painless and even enjoyable for you but that doesn't seem to be working. Too bad. Even though you're gonna scream and protest and claim you hate me for it, deep inside you're gonna love every minute of it and not be able to get enough."
He roughly fondled her breasts and then closed his mouth over one of her nipples. The hand that wasn't groping at her other breast traveled lower and gripped her inner thigh with bruising strength. It would only be a matter of time before he carried out his threat but she had to do something to stop him.
"Stop!" She put her hand to his chest to push him away. He was strong and had her pinned to the bed but she'd grown up with five brothers and was used to wrestling with them. She gave up trying to push him back and simply punched him in the jaw before giving him hard shove sending him sprawling to the floor. She scrambled out of the way in case he tried to come at her again.
Instead he sat where he'd fallen, holding his bruised jaw. He practically growled. "Who do you think you are? You're nothing but a piece of tail, not even much of that even. I certainly didn't ask you out because you were anything special. The only thing you have going for you is that I figured you would be an easy lay. But I bet you couldn't even do that properly."
Without another word he left the dorm room. With shaking legs, Lindsay crossed the room to the door and made sure it was locked, just in case he came back. Then she turned and slid down the door, burying her head to her knees as the sobs started. She was too shaken to even make an attempt to cover her almost naked body. How had things gotten so bad so quickly?
The sudden pounding on the door startled her. She choked back a strangled cry until a welcoming familiar voice called out to her. "Linds? Come on, Sis, open up. Dammit, please."
"It was Brent." Realizing that her boss might not be as familiar with her family she further explained. "My brother, one of the twins. He and Brian were in their third year at the same university." Lindsay continued. "Apparently the bartender at the club we were at was one of his friends. Johnny had seen my boyfriend put something in my soda when I wasn't looking. Unfortunately he saw it happen quite often working in a club frequented by frat boys. If he witnessed it, he always switched out the drinks before the girl could drink any of the drugs so she would know what was going on and could make an informed choice. That's why Troy was so surprised when I fought him off; he expected me to be too drugged to fight back. Johnny called Brett as soon as we left the club and told him what had happened. Brett was furious that Johnny even let me leave with him and had come rushing to my room to check on me."
Mac was glad to hear that the near rape had been thwarted and had to echo her brother's feelings about Johnny. Although he was glad the bartender had prevented Troy - he was surprised when Lindsay had slipped up and used her former boyfriend's first name- from dosing Lindsay with what was probably Rohypnol. He moved from the chair to the couch and pulled her close, ready to release her at the first sign of discomfort. Instead she seemed to welcome his embrace against the bad memories from before.
"I was almost scared to let Brett in but knew he'd probably break down the door if I didn't. I told him what happened and he helped me get changed. Then he insisted that I report what happened to the campus security. They refused to do anything. Of course no one was going to believe anything bad about the boy whose family had financed many of new building projects at the school. Brett was furious and took me to the police station. They weren't affected by the family's wealth but there was still nothing they could do. I had no injuries, even the slap he'd given me hadn't left a mark. Since I was dating him, the officer who took my statement said it would be my word against his and that the DA would have a hard time prosecuting a thwarted date rape case."
As much as it galled him, Mac knew the officer had been correct. Even now date rape was hard to prove and one that had been stopped in time even more so. Had Lindsay and her brother appeared at his desk when he was walking a beat, the most he would have been able to do was take a report and recommend breaking off all contact with the suspect. However, he probably would have paid this Troy guy a visit to make sure he didn't come close to Lindsay every again. Her next words stopped his thoughts in their tracks.
"I should have just let him do what he wanted. It would have been better all around."
Mac's jaw dropped and he pulled back a little to sternly frown at her. "You can't mean that."
This time she didn't look away but met his with a fierce determination reflecting back in the eye that wasn't swollen shut. "I've never been more serious. If I hadn't fought him, Brett would have shown up while he was raping me. The police would have had no choice but to arrest him. It would have been over."
Mac shook his head. "And you would have been hurt. No woman deserves that kind of pain even if it means putting a scumbag behind bars."
"You're right, no woman deserves that kind of pain. Certainly not the poor girl who just happened to be out walking that night near my dorms. She shouldn't have had to suffer the abuse he intended for me." Lindsay wiped a tear and then continued.
"Brett made me stay off campus with him and Brian for the rest of the weekend. Because I wasn't on campus, I didn't hear any news until Monday. But as soon as I got to class everyone was talking about what happened Thursday night. Another freshman was brutally raped and beaten not far from my dorm. She didn't see her attacker but said he kept calling her Lindsay. I couldn't prove it but I knew he'd left my dorm and carried out his threat on the first girl he came across."
Mac's jaw rocked with anger. "I know you well enough to know you went back to the police with your suspisions. Was Troy arrested?"
Lindsay shook her head. "They investigated but when he raped the other girl he used a condom. There was no forensic evidence linking him to the crime and his buddies gave him an alibi for the time. The more I tried to push the issue the more it made me seem like a vengeful girlfriend trying to get him in trouble. The university even threatened to kick me out of school if I didn't stop harassing him."
She eased of the couch needing to move around a little to work out the tension that had settled into all of her muscles. "The girl who was raped was so traumatized that she dropped out of school. I heard rumor that she committed suicide later because she couldn't handle what happened to her. I know Troy was responsible but I can't help but feel guilty as well."
"Lindsay." Mac started but she stopped him.
"No, don't try to convince me otherwise. It didn't stop there. Johnny, the bartender, was beaten after leaving the club the next weekend. He was injured so badly he lost sight in one eye. Again we knew who was responsible but couldn't prove it. We figured Troy had figured out that Johnny had switched the drinks and was getting back at him. Johnny had planned on going into the Air Force after graduation; he'd dreamed of being a fighter pilot since he was a small boy. Those dreams ended after that beating."
She turned to face Mac, holding on the back of the couch for support. "Living on campus became hell for me. Nobody knew what Troy had tried to do to me but they did know we had broken up. Rumors why started and they were all ugly. Please don't make me tell you about them because it turns my stomach to even think about them. Notes were left under my dorm door and even my roommate wouldn't speak to me. I thought about dropping out as well but Brett wouldn't hear of it. I permanently moved in with the twins and things got better. We didn't tell Brian about the attempted rape; he would have gone ballistic on Troy if he'd known. All my brothers are over protective but Brian could take it to a new art form. All he knew was that Troy and I had had a bad fight and broken up."
She took a small, less pain stabbing breath and went on. "About a week after I moved off campus, Brett was mugged and beaten up while out running. It seemed completely unrelated except one of the muggers whispered something about me in Brett's ear after beating him almost unconscious. Again we knew Troy was involved but couldn't prove anything. To make matters worse, Brian tried to get back at Troy for what happened to Brett. Confronted him at the college gym and beat him pretty badly. This time the local police had proof of a crime and arrested my brother. We managed to keep Mom and Dad from finding out about what happened because Brian didn't fight the charges and paid the fine. Three people were seriously injured while I never even had so much as a bruise from the night and my brother has a criminal record. All because I put myself first. I know you'll argue that I can't blame myself for any of the events that happened after but I do. It could have been just me that was hurt but instead all those other people suffered in my place."
"You couldn't have known all that was going to happen when you protected yourself." Mac argued, hoping to make her see reason but knowing simple words from him wouldn't change those deep seated feelings of guilt. He'd always figured her deep sense of a need for justice for the victims stemmed from the diner shooting but now realized it went much deeper.
"I know. Really I do. But the other day at the diner I was sure of what could happen and if it was going to come down to either me alone was hurt or others were going to be in danger because of me, then there was no question. I wasn't going to put myself above the others in that diner. If I were in the same situation, I wouldn't do anything different."
- CSI: NY - CSI: NY - CSI :NY -
The passengers came down the tunnel departing the plane and entering the airport terminal. The last person to exit was wearing blue jeans and a red flannel button down shirt. Shifting the duffle bag strap on his shoulder, he reached for the cell phone in his pocket and turned it back on and waited impatiently to see if he'd missed any calls while in the air. Five missed calls but none from the person he wanted to hear from most of all. Before returning any of the missed calls he tried once more to reach the number he'd been trying frantically to reach right up to the minute the flight attendant had forced him to turn off his phone.
"Come on, pick up."
It went to voice mail instead just as it had every other time he'd tried. With a frown and a muttered curse he called the first missed number. This time there was an almost immediate answer. He didn't get the usual hello that usually came from someone answering the phone so he knew the person on the receiving end had been just as impatiently waiting for the call. "Are you there yet?"
"Just landed at JFK. I'm heading to her apartment now. I'll know more once I've seen her."
"I'm trusting you to handle things there. I feel like I should be there but things are crazy here. Not as crazy as things are going to be with you there but crazy enough that it would be difficult for me to get away. That being said, if you can't handle things, let me know and I'll figure out a way to get there."
"I can handle it. Don't worry about it. I'll call you when I know more." He hung up the phone before he could be questioned further. Putting the phone back in his pocket he started to follow the signs that would lead him to the cab stands outside the airport. He completely bypassed the baggage claim area because he hadn't bothered to pack anything other than the duffle bag he'd carried with him. After getting the text message that said his baby sister was in trouble, he hadn't wasted any time getting a flight to New York.
Once in the cab, he gave the driver the address to Lindsay's apartment and settled back in the seat. After flying almost all night to get to New York, he was beyond exhausted. He'd told his older brother that he could handle things but in truth he wasn't really sure. He could only hope that he'd told the truth and could handle things because if not, things in New York City were about to get really ugly.