We all fall down
"We took 'em high, we took 'em straight up the hill,
They wanted it all, we gave 'em such a fill.
In their parades we stole every thrill
And in their games we made every kill.
We took them hard, we took them up against the wall.
In their loss we never let them fall
In their flames we sailed up to the moon
In their rains we slayed dry like a fire would.
So the bottom of my fears
Is that the girl might just disappear,
But that'll be the death of me,
The day she's just a memory."
-Another One in the Dark, The Wallflowers
The sound of the phone ringing jarred Flack out of a deep, peaceful sleep. Five days had passed since he'd made the confession about Max trying to kiss him on the stakeout and he'd never slept so good as he had once he got that off his chest. A guilty conscience was an awful thing and it killed him every time he looked at Sam and thought about what he was keeping from her. He had debated telling her numerous times. Mostly because he was afraid, out of sheer spite, Max just may hunt her down and tell her and let on that he was into it. But the thought of causing problems for her and the baby had remained first and foremost in his mind and he couldn't take the risk of anything bad happening to them. He would have rathered facing her wrath than allow anything to happen to her or his unborn child. And five days after the fact, he remained stunned that she'd dealt with the news so calmly and maturely. Now he felt, in his heart, that they were making definite headway in their relationship and that things were going to be okay.
He cracked open an eye and took a peek at the illuminated numbers on the bedside clock radio. 4:47 am. Shit, he thought and rolled over onto his side and reached for his cell phone that was lying somewhere on the night stand, ringing incessantly. It was a vain attempt to not wake the warm, sleeping body tucked in tightly beside him. His fingers brushed against the flip phone and then it slipped off the table and tumbled to the floor. There was a dull thud as the phone hit hard wood and then a scrapping noise as the phone skittered under the bed.
"Sonofabitch!" he hissed. A little too loud because he felt the warm body move beside him and the touch of her hand on his back.
"Donnie?" her voice was weary. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." he said, and the phone started ringing once more. This time under the bed.
"The phone's ringing." Sam stated the obvious.
"I know that." he nearly snapped and climbed out of bed. "I have to find it before I can answer it."
"What happened?" she asked, sitting up in bed, holding the sheet to her bare chest. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and saw him through the darkness, on his hands and knees beside their bed.
"I knocked the phone under the bed." he replied angrily.
"It might be easier to find it with a light on." she gently suggested.
"Samantha…..don't say a word, okay?"
"Don't be such a baby." she said and scooted across the bed and reached for the lamp and switched it on. Gathering the sheet around her, she yawned noisily and leaned back against the headboard and watched the look of irritation and anger on his face as he continued his search. "Are you sure it's under there?" she asked.
"I heard it fall."
"But are you sure it fell under the bed?"
"Samantha…." he warned. "Go back to sleep."
"Kinda hard with the phone ringing so much." she said.
He gave her a look that clearly meant 'Don't push it' and she held her hands up in self defence and lay back down. On her side, face on his pillow, breathing in that strong, masculine scent that was so uniquely him. She realized how much she'd miss that smell if he was no longer around. And she reached out and combed her fingers through his hair.
He lifted his head and smiled at her. Touched by that simple, yet loving gesture. "I'm a dumb ass." he said.
She shook her head.
Flack finally located the phone by the head board and he scooped it up. It had started ringing again and he checked the call display. The number was from the ATF agent that was heading the raid on the docks. The raid had been scheduled and cancelled three times since the initial planning session. Flack hadn't been too thrilled at the idea of taking himself, or some of his guys into another raid after what happened with the Wilder bust. The bust had gone down okay, but he still didn't feel too good about putting a hole in the one guy's chest and he sure as hell couldn't forget the aftermath. Danny and Adam being taking hostage and beaten and the crime lab being taken over. He was homicide. Raids weren't his specialty. But he also knew, with a chance at a promotion, that Gerrard and Sinclair would be watching very closely how he did this time around.
He flipped his phone open. "Flack." he answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and using the fingers of his bad hand to wipe his weary eyes.
He briefly wondered how he'd manage taking part in a raid with a damn cast on his hand. He heard the rustle of the sheets as Sam moved closer to him. Then felt her hair brush against his bare back as she laid her head against him. Her arm snaked around his waist. He smiled and stroked her arm softly and listened to the orders being curtly given over the phone.
"Who was that?" Sam asked, pressing a kiss to the small of his back as he snapped his phone closed and tossed it onto the nightstand.
"Agent Nelligan from ATF. The guy in charge of the raid. Says it's going down today."
"Today?" she asked. "When today?"
"Seven o'clock. They want me at the precinct for six."
"Think it will actually go down this time?" she asked.
"Who knows." Flack sighed. "And I was having one of the best sleeps of my entire life, too."
"Poor baby." she said and pressed kisses across the small of his back.
He shivered in spite of himself. The woman had that effect on him. And he knew, if he didn't get up off of that bed, there was a great chance he wouldn't be making it in time for the raid.
"I need to take a shower." he said, rubbing her arm a final time before slipping out of her grasp and standing up. "Shave. Brush my teeth. All that good stuff."
"Do you want me to tape the plastic bag around your cast?" she asked, sitting up in bed and motioning for him to hand her the t-shirt that lay at the foot of the bed. Every night she wore pyjamas- whether it be maternity ones or a shirt of his- and every night they ended up discarded somewhere in haste.
"I can do it." he said and tossed her the t-shirt.
"I know you can do it." Sam pulled the shirt on over her head. "But I was asking if you wanted me to do it."
He smiled and leaned over the bed and kissed her. "Thank you. But I'm okay."
"I'll make you a coffee than and something to eat. You can't leave without putting something in your stomach. You know you always feel sick if you don't eat something in the morning."
"You need to stay in bed and get some sleep." Flack told her.
"I'm fine, Donnie." she assured him. "Let me do something nice for you."
"Nicest thing you could do is lie your pretty little head down and close your eyes and get some sleep. All right? You need to get as much rest as possible."
"I'm pregnant. Not dying." she reminded him. "Please, Donnie. Let me do something nice for you. Something that makes me actually feel like a wife. I mean, I know I'm not your wife yet, but I will be soon and doing something for you makes me feel like I am already and…."
He silenced her rambling with a kiss. "Promise me you'll go back to sleep as soon as I leave." he said.
"I promise." she told him, and slid out of bed. The vertigo hit and she suddenly felt dizzy and had to reach out and lay her hand on his arm to keep herself steady on her feet.
"You okay?" Flack asked, circling her waist with his arm and leading her back to the bed and gently forcing her to sit down. He would normally give her hell for getting out of bed that fast and chastise her about bringing all these problems on herself, but he'd promised himself to make a conscious effort to be more sympathetic to her ordeal.
She nodded and closed her eyes and rested her head against his stomach. "Please just make this stop." she said.
"Few more months, baby." he told her, stroking her hair softly.
"Make this all go away, Donnie. The nausea and the dizziness and the fatigue. I can barely function some days. Please just make this all go away."
"I know it's all a pain in the ass and nothing has been easy for you. And if I could make all of it disappear and let you enjoy the rest of this pregnancy, I'd do it. Shit, I'd carry the baby for you if I could. But honestly? I don't think I could. I'm too much of a wimp when I get a cold. I could never be pregnant and go through childbirth. I'd never survive."
"It's why women are the chosen ones." she said, raising her head slowly. "Because men are wimps."
He smoothed her hair away from her face and pushed it behind her ears and then went to the nightstand on her side of the bed and uncapped the bottle of water sitting there and brought it to her. Lately, the woman who once was able to sleep through anything, had been getting it three or four times for something to drink and double the amount making trips to the bathroom. He handed the bottle to her and waited for her to down it in one long sip.
"You okay now?" he asked.
"I think so." she replied. Then slowly stood up.
"You good?"
She nodded and attempted a smile. "I'm sorry. Usually I'm not such a wimp. But this….this is kicking my ass. I thought I'd handle it better. And I never thought I'd get this sick and have so many problems."
"I say next time, we just get a dog." Flack quipped.
She managed a laugh. "We'd still have to take it for walks and pick up its shit."
"True. But at least it can't miss curfew and tell us to fuck off when he's twelve."
"Twelve? They tell you to fuck off at five now. What planet are you living on? So coffee? Some toast?"
"Sounds good." he said and kissed her. "Thank you."
"My pleasure." she told him with a smile and headed from the room.
He noticed, when she bent down to pick up a discarded sock on the floor, that she wasn't wearing anything under that shirt. He bit his bottom lip at the sneak peak of ass he got when that shirt hiked up. And felt that stirring in his groin. She was so completely oblivious to how crazy she drove him. He was thankful when she stood up once more and headed from the room.
Better make that a cold shower, he thought.
She made him fresh coffee and a couple pieces of toast and filled a travel thermos with coffee so he could take it with him. It was just past a quarter after five when he came into the kitchen, hair damp from his shower and wearing a pair of navy blue cargo style pants and a short sleeve t-shirt and found her already parked in front of her lap top at the kitchen table. Case folders piled beside her.
"You're obsessed." he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
"Mac wanted me to go over some ballistics reports that he says don't make any sense. So far, I see what he means. A lot of the information on here is contradictory. I don't know if it's just techs that don't know what they're doing in the lab or they just don't know how to file a proper report. Did you know I had to go for that blood work today?"
"I did. I was the one who wrote it down." he sat down at the table with the toast and coffee. "Why? Didn't you?"
She smiled sheepishly. "I forgot. And I wouldn't have even thought of it until I saw your note on the side of the fridge. Maybe I can get my brother to take my blood at the lab instead of having to go all the way to Women and Children's. It's a long subway ride."
He was about to say, no subways and offer money up for a cab, but decided she may just find that a little too overprotective. "Do whatever you think is best." he said instead, biting into the toast.
She cocked her head to the side and arched an eyebrow and regarded him with a 'what has gotten into you' type of expression before taking a sip from the steaming mug of tea sitting next to her.
"And I'm suppose to go out to lunch with Max this afternoon." she told him with a sigh.
"Lucky you." Flack said. "Try not to get into it with her. No one's there to play referee."
"I was thinking of dragging Carmen along, but I don't think it's a good idea. Carmen is liable to break Max in half. She hates her."
"Carmen's just watching out for you. Just promise me you'll refrain from any acts of violence."
She made the sign of the cross over her heart with the tip of her index finger. "Cross my heart hope to die. I will be a good girl. I am trying to be civil to prevent you from having to work in sheer hell everyday."
"Thank you." he said and winked at her.
"But I am going to come right out and be completely honest with her."
"Sam, I know what being honest is all about with you. And usually, it's brutal honesty."
"I'm just going to tell that that I'm not a hundred percent comfortable with the two of you working together and that I don't entirely trust her and I'd appreciate it if she kept her hands, and her lips, to herself. I have a right to stick up for myself and my family. And no woman in this world would sit back and tolerate that kind of shit."
"I just don't want you having a massive freak out." Flack said. "Last thing I need is a phone call saying your in the hospital with problems."
"I promise you I'll be good. No temper tantrums. I will just be calm and composed and ladylike."
He smirked.
"I promise." she insisted. "My best behaviour. I swear. Or were you trying to suggest I'm not ladylike."
"I would never suggest a thing. Besides, I know you're all woman. I've seen you naked."
"You mean I never told you my deepest darkest secret?"
"What's that?"
"I was really born a man. I just got changed over a few years ago."
"Yeah? In that case, I want the name and the number of your doctor so I can sent him some kind of thank you gift. Because he worked miracles and turned you into one hot, sexy woman. 'Cause if those aren't real," he nodded at her chest. "Then he's a damn genius."
"They are one hundred percent real." she declared. "And they're getting bigger and hate it."
"I love it." he said and finished the toast and the coffee and stood up.
"Yeah…..but you're dirty." she informed him as he rinsed his dirty dishes and dropped them into the sink. "Don't forget that we see the therapist tomorrow. We have to go those lists done."
"Already done mine." Flack said. "A long time ago."
"How hard was it to find five things you love about me?" she inquired.
"Not as hard as it was to find five things I hate about you." he responded, and putting a hand on the back of her chair, bent down to kiss her.
"Sure. I bet you found about fifty things you hate." she teased and turned her face up towards him for a long, warm kiss.
"Actually, it was forty nine." he said.
She frowned.
"Joking. Just joking. I got stuck on three and gave up." he ran a hand over her hair and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I gotta go." he said reluctantly.
"You can't go out dressed like that." she told him and pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. She went into the living room and came back into the kitchen a short time later holding a long sleeve, black thermal shirt she'd plucked out of the clean basket of clothes by the couch.
"It's cold outside." she said simply and held the shirt out to him.
All these simple, tiny gestures from her touched him more than he ever thought possible. And he drew her tiny body in his arms and kissed her with everything he had and held onto her for what felt like an eternity. They went through this same ritual of sorts each time he got called out. She'd get up and make him something to eat and a coffee and they'd laugh and joke around about something like it was just another day, and then something she'd say or do would make his sensitivity chip go haywire. And he'd kiss her and hold her and find himself near tears at the thought that it may be the last time he ever got to do it.
And Flack had never been that pessimistic before. There was always that fear in the back of his mind that something could happen. But this new breed of fear was first and foremost in his heart and mind and nearly made him sick to his stomach.
"Please be careful." she pleaded in a near whisper, her arms around his torso, her face buried in his chest.
"I will." he assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Try not to worry too much, okay? It'll probably just get called off like the last three times. And promise me you'll go back to bed and get some sleep before you go in."
"I promise." she said and pulled away from him, attempting to hide the obvious sparkle of tears in her eyes. She turned away from him and began tidying up her papers and folders in order to keep her frayed emotions in check.
Flack knew telling her to get rest was all in vain. That as soon as he walked out that door, she'd either have all that paper work back out again or she'd gone on a house cleaning frenzy. It was the way she attempted to get her mind off of him being placed, willingly, in harms way.
He tugged his t-shirt up and over his head and slipped into the long sleeve one she'd given him then pulled on the t-shirt once again.
"Sam?" he spoke quietly, gently.
"Hmmm?"
"I have to go now." he told her.
"Okay."
"I'll call you when I get a chance. To let you know what's going on. All right?"
"That's fine." she said.
He grabbed his badge from the top of the fridge and clipped it to the waist band of his pants, on the opposite side from his holster that he'd gotten from the lock box in the bedroom.
"Call and leave a message if you need anything." he told her, snagging his car keys off the microwave and shoving them in his pocket. "And I mean anything."
She nodded and continued shuffling papers.
He sighed and crossed the kitchen to stand behind her. Laying his hands on her shoulders he leaned in close and buried his face in her hair. Breathed in the feminine, floral scent of the shampoo that still lingered. And was assailed by the sudden irrational fear that there may never be another moment like this for the rest of his life.
"Samantha….." he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Don't say anything." she begged and brought her hands up to rest on his.
So he didn't say another word. They just stood there in the silence of the kitchen, overcome by their fears. And their love.
It had been nearly five hours since he'd left the house, and Samantha still hadn't heard from Flack. After he'd left she'd sat on the couch wrapped in a flannel blanket and had a long cry that in the end had exhausted her and sent her off into a deep sleep. If it hadn't had been for Carmen calling and wondering why she wasn't in the downstairs lobby waiting for her usual ride in to work, she wouldn't even be where she was now. In the relative silence of the trace lab. Running samples for Mac through the GC/MS and working on her five things I love/hate about you. It was a relatively slow day. Only two new cases. She could have preferred more work to keep her mind off of her worry. Her irritation that he hadn't bothered to get in touch with her after so long was showing up in what she wrote.
He has no concept of how much I worry about him and doesn't take it seriously when I tell him. He doesn't call to at least let me know he's alive. He leaves dirty socks on the floor and the toilet seat up and the empty milk carton in the fridge. He nags me about taking better care of myself. He' too possessive.
She could have went on, but scolded herself for being so spiteful.
She sighed and glanced at the clock above the door. Where the hell is he? All the worst, irrational fears were clogging her brain. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. But tried to reassure herself that if there was, someone would get a hold of her.
"What'cha working on?" Adam asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway.
Sam jumped. She hated being snuck up on like that. Especially when her nerves were frayed and she was ten times as skittish.
"Jesus, peanut." she scolded him. "You scared me."
"Sorry." he said sheepishly. "You busy?" he asked, leaning against the end of the table.
"Just waiting on some samples for Mac to get through the Mass Spec. And working on my 'what I despise about you' homework."
Adam arched an eyebrow. He drummed his fingers on the table top and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
"For our therapy." she explained. "What's up? You need to go to the bathroom?"
"No. Why?"
"You shifting like that makes me want to go pee. Are you okay? You seem a little antsy."
"Do I?" Adam asked.
Sam nodded. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. Too much caffeine. You know how I get. I was thinking, I've got some spare time right now and we can go and I can get that blood taken from you. I mean, I can take the blood for you. If you want me too. 'Cause I have some spare time. Like, right now."
"Adam, you're rambling." Sam said.
"Am I? I wasn't aware that….."
"What is wrong? I can tell when there's something wrong. I know you very well."
"Nothing's wrong." he assured his sister. "I just had a triple espresso and I am just flying because of it. You want to head down and let me take that blood and I can send it off right away?"
"I don't know." Sam frowned. "Can I trust you to not collapse my vein or miss altogether?"
"I'm not that bad. I just have some spare time right now and the GC/MS will probably still be running when you get back here. So it's a good time for both of us. I mean, I'm free, you're pretty much free. Can't get any freer than me. Wanna go?"
Sam sighed and flipped her notebook closed. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I can tell you're not dropping it until I say yes."
"You're very intuitive." Adam said. Then nearly collided with her when they went to walk through the door at the same time. He stepped back, held up his hands in surrender and nodded for her to go ahead of him.
"You're acting really strange." Sam complained as she stepped out into the hall. "More strange than usual. And that's damn scary."
"I am completely harmless." Adam assured her and followed her out of the room. He glanced over his shoulder, back to where Speed and Danny were watching him and Sam go from a discreet distance. He nodded at them.
Danny and Speed looked at each other. Understanding passed between them without a single word. Then they went their separate ways.
Carmen yawned noisily and stepped back from the high powered microscope. Her head was pounding and her eyes were blurry from staring at the same fibre sample for the last half an hour. She was tired. Beyond tired, actually. She and Speed had spent the majority of the night packing the last of her things and cleaning the place up before the big mouth on Saturday. She was excited about finally getting into the new place. She knew that even though the time would probably be short lived before she and Speed managed to get their own place, her and Sam were going to have a hell of a time together. They always had lots of laughs together and could spend hours talking and gossiping. It was going to be like having a long, long sleepover. And as immature as it sounded, Carmen longed for a night in her pyjamas eating pizza and ice cream and junk food and talking about her man with her best friend.
Now if she could only find such joy in staring at carpet fibre…..
She caught sight of someone breezing into the room and she glanced up to see Speed striding purposefully towards her. A look of business on his dark, handsome face. A kit in each hand.
"We gotta new crime scene." he informed her.
"We? As in me and you?"
"Everyone else has partnered up and headed out. I thought you'd like to work with me. Gives me the chance to break the news instead of someone else."
Carmen frowned. "What news?" she asked.
"About the crime scene."
"What about it? You're usually not this grave over crime scenes."
"It's Flack."
Carmen would have sworn her heart stopped. "What?" she could barely get the word out.
"Not him per say." Speed said. "But the raid he was involved in. It went bad. Really bad. Five cops injured. Three fatalities. Including a detective."
Her head swam. "What about Flack?"
"As far as I know, he's shaken up but he's fine. I think he's got some cuts and bruises but nothing serious."
"Does Sam know?"
Speed shook his head. "Mac said to keep it from her for now. He's trying to protect her and the baby. Adam is distracting her."
Carmen nodded. "Good idea." she said quietly, her brain trying to process what she was being told. It was the first time during her years with law enforcement that she was being called out to a scene that involved a friend. And she could only imagine how worse the shock had have been if the outcome had have been more tragic.
"But you're sure he's okay?" she asked Speed, worrying about Samantha and how'd she'd never survive if anything happened to Flack.
"He called Mac. Mac said that other than sounding really shaky and saying he was a little banged up, Flack was fine."
"What kind of banged up?" she asked.
"I don't know." Speed replied. "But we really need to get going."
She nodded but didn't move to follow him to the door.
He glanced back and saw her standing there at the table, staring out the window. "Carmen?" he called.
She looked at him.
"We need to go." he told her gently.
She snapped off her latex gloves and tossed them in a nearby trash and headed towards him.
"You have to secure your evidence." Speed reminded her, nodding in the direction of the samples laid out on the table behind her.
She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath to compose herself. Get her head back on straight. Then she went back and took out the sample from the microscope and put it back in a small plastic basket with the others. All of which she locked in a drawer under her station.
"You going to be okay?" Speed asked her as she joined him at the door. Concern etched on his dark, handsome features. He laid a gentle, comforting hand on her shoulder.
She nodded. "I can't help but think how Sam would cope if something happened to him."
"She wouldn't." Speed said simply and honestly. "But nothing happened to him. And that's the important thing to think about right now. That, and the fact that you need to get your head on straight because we have a job to do. And if you're too personally involved with it…."
"I'm fine." Carmen assured him. Steeling herself.
Speed arched a sceptical eyebrow.
"I'm fine." she repeated and brushed past him and headed out into the hall.
There was little more he could do other than follow.
Flack's ears were ringing. His headed pounded ferociously. He sat, on the tailgate of an ambulance, with an ice pack wrapped in a towel held to his forehead. The towel soaking up the blood that oozed from a deep, inches long cut just above his left eye. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. He held out the hand in the cast and watched it tremble. He'd been willing it to stop for the last twenty minutes. His heart hammered in his aching chest and he felt cold despite the warm blanket one of the EMS workers had draped around his shoulders.
What the hell happened? he wondered for the at least the hundredth time in the last forty-five minutes. Had it really been that long? It felt like it happened only moments ago. One minute they were storming the place and then all hell broke loose. He wasn't sure how many initial gunshots he heard or how many gunmen were in there, but in less than a minute, the cop in front of him was dead on the floor at his feet and in sheer panic, one of the DHS guys made a run for it and when Flack turned briefly to yell at him to get his ass back there, someone caught him in the small of the back with a knee and sent him face first into the cement. The damage to his forehead was done when the assailant flipped him over, held a handgun to his head, said Motherfucking pig and pulled the trigger.
By the grace of God, someone was watching over Don Flack Jr from up above, because the gun jammed. He'd heard that dull click of the weapon malfunctioning and locked eyes with that perp above him and did what Danny Messer always said to do when in doubt. He head butted the perp in the mouth, and was rewarded by the barrel of the gun being slammed into his forehead. That just pissed Flack off even more and despite the blood seeping into his eyes, he clocked the guy with his cast. Then pulled himself to his shaky feet, grabbed his own weapon that had fallen to the ground, and permanently put the perp down. He knew there'd be hell to pay about that. He'd taken the life of an assailant that was injured on the ground. IAB would want to roast his ass for sure. But Flack didn't care. All he cared about was the dead cop and the fact that only ten minutes before, Flack had been standing in that exact spot.
The team leader had told them to switch places. He was anal about liking the tall, big guys closer to the back. Just in case a bad guy made a break for it and he'd be stopped by guys strong enough and capable of, putting him through the pavement. Flack had thought how stupid that sounded. It was up to the guys up front to not allow anyone to make a run for it. What did it matter how big and tough you were when you'd let your weapon do all the talking if it came down to it. But he hadn't argued. It wasn't his place. It wasn't his raid like the Wilder thing had been. He'd simply switched spots and that was that.
And now he thanked God for being just a bit bigger and more solid than he was two years ago. Because if he hadn't have been, it would have been him on his way to the morgue.
He winced as he pulled the towel and ice away from his face. Picking up a bottle of water resting beside him , he used most to wash away the sweat and blood on his face and neck. Half of it wasn't even his. A mixture of the dead cop who'd caught a bullet in the neck and the perp that Flack taken out with a bullet to the back of his head. He could hear IAB now. They'd call it in execution and make him the department scapegoat for things fucking up as bad as they did. Same thing they did with Mac over Dobson. He could kiss the idea of a promotion goodbye. And he'd be lucky if he had his job still at the end of it all.
He dropped his head between his knees and forced himself to take deep, steady breaths. The shaking was unreal and he couldn't warm up no matter what he did. And now anxiety seemed to be kicking in. He'd had it before. The first few crime scenes after the bombing, when even a loud noise on the street would cause him to nearly jump out of his skin. Or he'd wake up from a nightmare drenched in sweat and his heart pounding. He'd long ago learned out to handle an anxiety attack.
But the shaking…..
"Flack?" Carmen's voice came from his left side and he felt her hand on his shoulder.
He didn't answer.
"Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing his arm soothingly.
"Sam's not here is she?" he asked in response.
"She's at the lab. No one's even told her what happened."
"Good." Flack said and straightened up and took a sip of the remaining water. "I need to call her and let her know I'm okay. In case she hears the news and thinks I'm the dead cop."
"Why don't you let EMS take a look at you and you can call her afterwards?" Carmen suggested.
"They looked at me and said I was fine."
"You have a hell of a cut. Maybe you should let Hawkes look at it and see if he suggests going for stitches."
"Carmen, I'm fine. Okay? It'll stop bleeding soon and I'll be fine."
She nodded. Knowing arguing with Flack was like arguing with a brick wall. And that no good would come from trying to get the upper hand. She nodded at Danny in greeting as he stepped up on the other side of Flack.
"How ya doin'?" Danny asked his best friend.
"Can't stop shaking." Flack replied honestly. "Or get warm. I'm freezing."
"Shock." Danny told him. "You wanna talk about what happened? Give me some sort of heads up?"
"We waited almost five hours to get the call to go ahead. Five hours. And we get all set up and what not and the team leader from ATF tells me and this other cop to switch spots because he wants the bigger guys at the back. Taking control, I guess."
"That the dead cop?" Danny asked.
Flack nodded. "Brendan Doyle. Detective third grade. One of my guys. Has a wife and a newborn at home."
Carmen sighed and put her kit on the ground and snapped it open.
"He caught it in the neck." Flack continued, shock and disbelief etched on his handsome face. "I tried when it all calmed down in there to do something, but there was nothing I could do to help him. Half you seen him? His throat is blown away almost. I tried but…." he stopped and shook his head. All he could think about was working with that kid. All the questions Doyle often lobbed his way. The innocence and exuberance Doyle did his job with.
"There was nothing you could have done, Don." Carmen assured him, snapping latex gloves onto her hands.
"Less than a month ago I sat beside him in that ATF and DHS meeting and he was on my case because Sam sent me this text message……he was always this happy go lucky kid. His wife and him were high school sweethearts and he always walked around bragging about her and their kid. He didn't deserve this. He was just a kid."
"Things happen for a reason." Danny stated. "If he hadn't have gone before you, that would be you dead and department officials calling Sam and giving her the news. So what happened when you guys stormed the building?"
"I don't know. It's just a blur. I heard gunshots."
"How many?"
"A few. Rapid shots. From an automatic. People starting diving for cover and firing back. I don't even know if I saw anyone."
"Someone announce you're guys arrival?" asked Danny.
"Yeah. NYPD, ATF all that shit you yell when you go in." Flack replied.
"What happened to your face?" Danny inquired.
"Perp nailed me into the ground from behind and…."
Danny frowned. "You turned your back?"
"One of the DHS guys punked out and went to run. I turned to yell at him to get the fuck back there."
"And?"
"And someone nailed me from behind. Then flipped me over and held a gun between my eyes and yelled motherfucking pig and pulled the trigger."
Carmen and Danny looked at each other. Both shivered at the thought of how close to death Flack had come.
"Gun jammed." the detective continued. "He nailed me in the head with it and I head butted him to get him off of me."
Danny grinned. "Works every time. What happened next?"
"He rolled off of me and was crawling for my weapon and I grabbed it and I shot him."
"Where?"
"Back of the head. Why are you asking me all of this? You sound like….." Flack glanced over and frowned at the sight of his best friend standing there, log book in his hands. "You're taking my statement?" he asked incredulously.
"Mac wanted me to get your version of events." Danny told him. "And Carmen needs to swab your hands for GSR."
"Why? I just admitted I killed the guy."
"Procedure, Flack. You know that." Carmen replied.
"We also need your weapon." Danny added.
"This is fucking bullshit." Flack declared and stood up. He yanked the gun from his holster and held it out to Danny.
"This the one you shot the perp with?" Danny asked.
Flack nodded. "There's also a department shot gun in there that will have my prints all over it."
"You fire it?"
"Couple shots before the perp took me out. Don't know if I hit anyone. I could have. I just….." Flack's voice trailed off and he shrugged.
Danny set the safety and removed the chamber and handed it to Carmen, who deposited the weapon into her kit. "What about your backup gun? You use that at all?"
Flack shook his head.
"We need t take a look at all your weapons, Flack." Danny told him.
"I can't believe you guys are doing this." he said, shaking his head in disgust and lifting his pant leg to take his backup gun from the holster near his left ankle.
"We have a job to do." Danny told him. "You shot a perp in the back of the head. IAB is going to have a field day with that."
"You're suppose to be my friend, Danny. Not out to get me."
"I'm just doing my job." the CSI told him. "This isn't personal, Flack."
The detective snorted and reluctantly held out his left hand for Carmen to test for GSR.
"Mac doesn't want you talking to anyone from IAB until a department lawyer sees you first." Danny told him.
"Yeah?" Flack waited for Carmen to finish her testing and then stood up. He tossed the blanket back into the ambulance and the towel and ice pack on the tail gate. "Well Mac isn't my boss. I'll talk to Gerrard and see what he wants me to do. And you know what, Messer? I never went like this when you went off all half cocked and killed Ronnie Minhouse."
Danny frowned. "That's totally different."
"You're right. It is. I shot an armed suspect who tried to kill me. You shot a cop."
"I didn't know he was a cop." Danny argued. "You know that! And it wasn't me in the end that killed him either. Don't bring this up now. One has no bearing on the other."
"I stuck up for you." Flack reminded him. "Aiden and I worked our asses off to prove that you didn't do it and you have the nerve to stand here and tell me what I did was wrong? All the times I've stuck up for you, Danny. All the times you fucked up and I supported you. Rikki Sandoval? Ring a bell?"
Danny snorted and shook his head and bagged Flack's gun and walked away.
"I should have locked her ass up the second she stole your gun." Flack called to his friend's departing back.
"Let it go, Flack." Danny shot back without stopping.
"I gave you a chance, Messer. I let you make the right decision. I should have just locked her up and then you go down for that. Instead, what do you do? You sleep with her. The grieving mother. Because you've got this massive guilt over what happened to Reuben. All through that I supported you and you come here and shit all over me?"
"We're just doing our jobs, Don." Carmen told him.
He smirked and shook his head. "Then go and do it on someone else." he said and walked away.
"Where are you going?" Carmen shouted after him. "Mac is going to want to talk to you."
"Tell him to talk to my department lawyer first." Flack responded. "Anyone needs me, I'm going to the lab."
"Don't get her all worked up Flack. Try and keep her as calm as possible."
"Try minding your own business." he said and stopped at a cruiser and asked the uniform inside to give him a lift to the crime lab.
Carmen watched him as he climbed into the front passenger seat of the cruiser. The young uniform climbing behind the wheel and then peeling away.
"Everything okay?" Mac asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched the cruiser speed off.
Carmen nodded.
"Where's Flack going?" her boss inquired.
"Somewhere more important." she said.
Samantha couldn't concentrate. On anything. She had a stack of case folders to go through, more samples to run and medical forms regarding maternity leave and benefits she had to sign her life away on. Yet all he could think about, even as she sat wincing while Adam gently and professionally took a blood sample from her arm, was why in the hell she hadn't heard from her future husband yet. It had been six hours since she'd last spoken to him at the door of their apartment and he had kissed her goodbye and promised to call.
She heard very little her brother said as he talked endlessly about anything and everything under the sun. He rambled about his and Gus' plans for attending the John Mayer concert at Madison Square Gardens on Saturday night and then spending until Monday morning at The Days Inn Times Square. He even talked about popping into a comic book store in Tribeca and nearly fainting in joy as he found a complete collection of Star Wars figurines, in their boxes, circa 1974. The nearly fainted from shock at the total overall price tag.
Sam made a mental note that once she got her money, she was heading to said store and buying them for him for Christmas.
They were sitting in the break room. Adam had insisted she sit down and have orange juice and some cookies, knowing from past experiences that she didn't handle blood loss, even the smallest amount, very well and needed to keep her blood sugar up to avoid passing out.
When she mentioned the raid and how concerned she was that Flack hadn't called and she hadn't heard a damn word about it from anyone and that she found it bizarre that all the CSIs including Mac had been dispatched out to crime scenes at the same time, she noticed that Adam got even more fidgety and on edge.
And she decided to call him on it.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Adam replied, when she asked just what the hell was going on.
"You've been acting strange for since you came looking for me about my blood work. Like you're tweaking on something. What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing. I……"
"Adam…."
"Sam, I honestly don't know what you're talking about. I…"
"Adam!" she snapped. "Enough!"
He sighed and rubbed his palms along his coffee mug. "It's about the raid." he admitted.
"What about it?"
"I was supposed to distract you. Keep you occupied. Mac asked me to keep you out of the labs for a while because he didn't want any talk getting back to you because he was worried about you and the baby."
Sam felt her chest tighten in dread. "What is going on, Adam?"
"There was a problem with the raid."
"What kind of problem?"
"I guess things didn't go the way they were planned. They went really, really, really bad. Some injuries, fatalities."
"Any cops?" she asked, her voice choked.
Adam nodded.
Sam felt light headed. Her stomach ached. "Adam…..don't…..please tell me none of them were Don…."
"He's okay." Adam assured her. "He called Mac and said he was a little sore and banged up but very much alive."
Sam stood up. Needing more details. Answers. Her legs felt weak and she placed her hands on the table top to steady herself.
Adam was on his feet in an instant and around the table, wrapping a secure, comforting arm around his sister's slender body. "Sit down, Sammie." he said. "Sit down and take it easy."
"You're sure he's okay?" she turned teary, pleading eyes to her brother.
"Mac said he sounded fine. A little banged up and shell shocked, but fine."
"I just…..I was worried about him all morning….when did this happen?"
"About an hour ago now. I guess the raid got held up for a few hours. Sit down, Sammie, before…."
"No." she shook her head vigorously. "I can't…I can't be here right now…" she slipped away from her brother and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Adam asked, chasing after her.
"To get some goddamn answers." she replied. "Right from the horse's mouth. Or should I say horse's ass?"
"I don't think I like the sound of that." Adam said and hurried after her.
Gerrard was behind his desk, a hand to his pounding head as he listened to the head of DHS giving him the lowdown on the massive fuck up that morning that had cost the NYPD two valued members and sent another four to the hospital. The press was all ready parked outside of One Police Plaza demanding details and names and pictures of the dead from Sinclair. IAB was breathing down Gerrard's neck at the news that one of his detectives, according to witnesses, had blatantly executed a man he had in the position to arrest. And naturally, that detective would be Flack. Of all detectives it would be the one Gerrard and Sinclair saw the most promise in. And Flack had gone AWOL and wasn't answering his cell phone.
Gerrard could only hope that Flack was acting with his brain and on his way back in. Sinclair had all ready arranged for a department attorney to talk to him before IAB got their claws into him.
The door to his office banged open with enough force to nearly shatter the glass and he was on his feet as a furious Samantha Ross stormed in.
"Where the hell is my husband!" she yelled.
"Detective, I am in the middle of a phone call and you can't just storm in here like this!"
She slammed her fingers down on the cradle of the phone, disconnecting the call. "Tell me where my husband is!" she demanded.
"I don't know." Gerrard admitted, getting to his feet. "Now you're going to have to leave before I have you removed from my office!"
"You put him on that raid even though he was injured to see if he could prove himself! He shouldn't have even been there with a broken hand! But because you and Sinclair and all the old school boys have a hang up about him measuring up to his father's reputation, you sent him anyway! Now tell me what the hell happened and where he is!"
"I don't know. On both fronts."
"Bullshit!" she raged. "Fucking bullshit! Is it that important that he becomes the department golden boy that you'd sacrifice him to prove a fucking point! Or is it because you want to see him fuck up so you and Sinclair and his bastard father can all laugh about it later!"
"Samantha…." Scagnetti, seeing her storm through the bullpen and into Gerrard's office, had come running when he heard her yelling. More for Gerrard's sake than hers. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Samantha…."
"Get her out of here, Scagnetti!" Gerrard roared. "She wants her badge, you get her the hell out of here!"
"If anything happened to him I will hold you responsible!" Sam threatened. "And I will fuck you up five ways from Sunday old man! If he even as so much of a scratch on him you will pay! Understand me!"
"Scagnetti…" Gerrard fumed. "Get her out of her before she does something to that baby she's carrying. Calm her down."
"Come on, Samantha." Scagnetti had to forcibly remove her from the office. An arm wrapped around her trembling body. "Flack's fine." he assured her, leading her into the bullpen area, past the curious and concerned eyes of other detectives and civilians. "Come and sit down and…."
"Just leave me alone." she huffed and pushed the big man away from her.
She went to Flack's desk and flipped through papers and folders on the top looking for something that gave away the location of the raid. When she found nothing, she began opening drawers and tossing things on the ground and on top of the desk and on the chair before she finally found a hastily scrawled note with an address for a building near the Port Authority.
She grabbed Flack's car keys from the top drawer and hurried out. Ignoring the whispers and the stares as she rushed through the busy bullpen area, out into reception and through the front doors. Out into the bright sunlight that burned her eyes and dried the tears of worry and anger on her cheeks. Jumping at the sound of squealing brakes as a patrol car screeched to a halt at the curb a few feet away. She kept going. Determined.
Behind her a car door slammed open and then shut again. Followed by heavy footsteps hurrying to catch up to her.
A hand fell on her arm. She didn't need to see who it was. She just knew. Something in the touch and the smell that accompanied the person that came with it. She turned around to face him. Seeing nothing but the darkness and despair in those usually vibrant blue eyes. Not the dried blood on his face or clothes or hands or the nasty, deep gash above his eyebrow. Just those eyes.
Tears of anger and worry turned into ones of sheer relief.
"Sam…." his voice was a near whisper. Unable to say more.
"It's okay now." she said.
He shook his head and reached out and pulled her into his arms.
She held on to him as tight as she could. As he clung to her and stroked her hair and wept into her shoulder.
"It's okay now." she repeated reassuringly, rubbing his back soothingly.
"I just….I need to….I just need you to hold me."
She said nothing in return. She knew he didn't need a response. Instead, she tightened her hold on him and they stood there with the sun blazing down and nothing existing outside of being in each others arms.
"Don't ever let me go." he pleaded.
"I don't plan to." she said. "Ever."
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. And to all of you who are adding me to alerts. I appreciate each and everyone one of you. I would have sent review replies but I was getting ready to post and realized the b/f has erased my in box messages. Nice.
I am plugging:
Views from Brooklyn: written by me
A Tale of Two Girls: Aphina This is a fab story featuring both Aphina's OC Carmen Devine and my Sam along with all your other favs from CSI:NY. It's a wonderful read that is a little funky and unconventional and shows both OCs in a different light, but so worth the read. Show her some love peeps!!