Chapter 15 - Rescue Me
Usual Disclaimer: I own nothing except the Rhodes clan (and maybe Grandma Flack, although not the name Flack, you get me??)
Welcome to the new friends…welcome again to the old ones! Glad you're all along for the ride (especially the ones who keep egging me on….lmao…you know who you are!)
Apparently the handcuffs went down well. Good ho. Well done to the writers of s5.20…now look at what you've done to us putting THAT image into our heads grrr!
Darkness falls, kids, from here on in; came to me in a flash of genius. Sticking with it.
Enjoy.
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Flack pounded into the building that held both the precinct and the Crime Lab. IN the foyer, people wisely got out of his way as he ran, full pelt, to the elevators, hitting the call button and swearing loudly when the elevator doors failed to open immediately. Cursing in frustration, as soon as they opened he barreled inside, hitting the button marked 35, followed by the "doors close" button. A couple of staffers, who had been waiting a good few minutes as well, began to protest, quickly cut off by Flack rudely telling them to "catch the next ride".
It seemed to take forever to get to the 35th floor, Flack's hand tapping the wall by the control panel out of sheer frustration. As soon as the doors opened at his destination, he almost ran down the corridor towards the break room, stopping dead at the sight that confronted him.
Rebecca, sitting in a chair, shoulders covered with a blanket, glassy stare on her eyes, head tilted upwards as a concerned Hawkes examined the bruising around her neck. Danny was crouched in front of her, holding her hands, murmuring something to her in a comforting tone. The other lab employees were milling around in the break room and corridor, clearly concerned about one of their own.
Flack felt, rather than saw Mac Taylor come and stand next to him. Flack ran his hand through his short hair.
"I had my cell turned off, Mac," said Flack, "I was with my YMCA kids down at the park. I only got Danny's message, like, ten minutes ago. Is she OK?"
Mac laid his hand on Flack's shoulder.
"She'll be OK Don," said the senior detective, "She's just in shock. She refused to go to Bellevue to be checked out. She insisted on coming back here. I asked Hawkes to look over her, make sure she's not injured."
Flack turned to Mac. He fixed the CSI with a look that Mac knew meant business.
"What the hell happened, Mac?" asked Flack, "What the fuck is going on here?"
Mac gestured to his office.
"I think it will be better if I explained in my office," he said.
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Flack and Mac looked over the photos that Danny had laid out on Mac's desk. When he came to the framed print of Rebecca, he took a sharp intake of breath and swore.
Mac swiftly explained what had happened to the younger man; how Danny had happened to see the picture of Rebecca, put two and two together and come straight to him.
"I called Dispatch straight away," said Mac, "And sent back-up straight to Hell's Kitchen. Danny and I got there only a few minutes afterwards."
"But, how the hell did this happen?" said Flack angrily.
"Apparently the uniform that checked the alley was inexperienced," said Mac, looking at Flack, "It happens to the best of us, you just miss a tiny detail,"
"He could have taken her!" said Flack, his voice rising with emotion, giving away his feelings for Rebecca as he spoke, "She could have been…"
He didn't finish the sentence. Both men knew what might have been.
"Hawkes just happened to decide to walk back to the alley," said Mac, "And he saw Rebecca being attacked. Her attacker was about to pick her up when Hawkes raised the alarm. Her attacker dropped her and ran."
Flack heaved a sigh of relief, making a mental note that he owed Sheldon Hawkes a drink, hell, drinks for the rest of his natural life. He stood a little straighter.
"What worried me," continued Mac, "Is that I think Danny may be right."
Flack looked at Mac in some confusion.
"I think her attacker followed her here from Washington," Mac explained, "I think Rebecca has been the target all along. I think everything he's done up till now has been a dress rehearsal."
Flack felt himself grow cold. Mac cleared his throat to get the younger man's attention.
"Don," he said more seriously, "We may have a serious problem. The crime scene today? In Hell's Kitchen? I believe it may have been a set-up. I think he tried to lure Rebecca there."
Flack staggered back into the nearest seat. This was not what he'd wanted to hear.
"Look, Don," said Mac, "I'm going to call Washington and update Agent Booth on what's happened here. You," he said, gesturing in the direction of the break room, "Should take Rebecca home."
Flack stood.
"Thanks Mac," he said, before leaving the office. His heart felt heavy as he walked back to the break room. Danny looked up as he approached. He rubbed Rebecca's forearms.
"Hey kid," he said softly to Rebecca, "Here's your knight in tarnished armor, here to rescue you."
Danny was rewarded with the tiniest of smiles beginning to form on Rebecca's face. Flack walked up to him and put his hand on Danny's shoulder.
"Thanks Messer," he said. Danny looked up at Flack.
"Don't mention it man," he replied, coming to his feet. Flack looked him squarely in the eye.
"Danny," he said firmly, "I know what you did, both of you," he said, glancing at Hawkes, who was putting some medical gear back in his bag, "And thanks will never be even close to enough."
He bent his knees and put one arm around Rebecca's back and one under her knees, lifting her swiftly and easily into his arms, close to his chest. Rebecca hid her face in his chest and tightened her arms around his neck.
"Let's go home baby," he said.
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Flack supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that Rebecca wanted some alone time once they got back to their apartment building. She'd been almost distant in the car, silent for the whole ride home. He didn't want to push her.
After the bombing, he'd been much the same. It had taken Angell to break down most of his walls, after nearly two years.
He was pretty sure she wanted to kick some crap out of her punchbag. At least he hoped she did, because silent and withdrawn Rebecca was not a pleasant sight. Rebecca was feisty, charming and sparky, when she wasn't being downright seductive and sexy. No, Flack thought, this was not a good thing.
He left a couple of messages on her home phone and her cell. She wasn't picking up.
He watched the highlights of a Knicks game on TV, thought about walking down the hall to shake some sense into her then decided she probably just needed a little space. He went to bed.
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He awoke, groggy from sleep, sometime in the early hours. Two a.m.
At first Flack didn't know what had disturbed him, although he hadn't slept well with worrying about Rebecca.
Then he realized that there was a steady pounding from fists on his front door. Almost panicked sounding.
He grabbed his sweat pants from where he'd thrown them on the floor, when he'd got into bed in nothing but his boxers.
The hammering continued.
"Jeez, I'm coming," muttered Flack, working his way through the small apartment, cursing as he tripped over his bag of hockey gear and a couple of hockey sticks.
Rubbing the sleep from his face, he opened the door, to be confronted by a panicked Rebecca. Instantly the look of irritation was wiped from his face to be replaced by one of concern.
"Baby, what's the matter?" he asked, concerned. Rebecca stood there, in an over-sized Rangers t-shirt and not much else, shivering.
"I can't sleep," Rebecca managed to get out from between chattering teeth. She had a panicked look in her eyes. She darted into Flack's arms.
"I'm scared Donnie," she said in a small voice, "Please, I don't want to be alone. Can I stay with you?"
Flack closed his arms around her in a warm and comforting embrace, kissing her on the top of her head. He pulled her into his apartment and closed the door.
"Lock it!" she almost screamed, "Please!"
Flack frowned at her reaction, but he let go of her and fixed the door and security chain. He shot home the deadbolts for good measure. He took her back into his arms, rubbing her back soothingly.
"It's OK, baby," he murmured, "It's all safe." He looked down into her eyes, noticing the scared look start to subside. He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. He helped her to sit on the edge of his bed. He stripped off his sweatpants. As he pulled the comforter and sheets back, he noticed Rebecca had started shivering again. Pulling her towards the center of the bed, he pulled her into his front then pulled the blankets over them. All he did was hold her close.
It took her a long time to get warm. And longer before she relaxed into sleep. Flack stayed awake a little longer. Holding her close, keeping her safe. He wanted to do that forever.
He was going to get the sonofabitch who did this to her, if it killed him.
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A sleepy and relaxed Rebecca woke up in Flack's arms the next morning, like they had the previous day. She smiled at him, nestled in his arms. He smiled back down at her. Yup, he thought, he'd like to do this on a permanent basis.
"Good morning," he said, gently kissing her, "I'm gonna get some breakfast for us. You coming with me?"
She smiled and nodded. He helped her sit up.
"Come on," he said, "We need to get you some shoes and pants, not," he said glancing at her behind, "That the woman I love dressed in nothing but a t-shirt isn't sexy as hell."
Rebecca blushed, then kissed him lightly. Flack smirked, pulled on his sweats, a shirt and his trainers, then took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
"Let's go beautiful," he said.
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Flack spotted the open door to her apartment first.
"Bec," he asked, "Did you lock your door last night?"
Yes," said Rebecca, looking at him, puzzled, waving the bunch of keys in front of his eyes, "Why?"
Flack gestured to her open door and then both noticed the splintered wood on the doorframe. Rebecca's eyes widened.
Flack grabbed his cell from out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number.
"Mac?" he asked, "You might want to get over to Rebecca's apartment. Looks like the sonofabitch found her."
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And…dramatic music people! Is that OK? Another cliffie I know, but it's just SO much fun!
Drop me a line, tell me what you think. Am I gonna get to the 100 mark…?