DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN…YOU GUYS KNOW THE REST

A/N: THE MADNESS CONTINUES!

A SPECIAL WELCOME TO MIONEJAINA561

AND A THANKS TO ALL WHO ARE ADDING ME AND THIS STORY TO ALERTS AND FAVOURITES!

Shattered

"The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day
Why leave me standing here
Let me know the way
Many times Ive been alone
And many times Ive cried
Any way you'll never know
The many ways I've tried
But still they lead me back
To the long winding road
You left me standing here
A long long time ago
Dont leave me waiting here
Lead me to your door."
-The Long and Winding Road, The Beatles

Ignoring the curious whispers and the sympathetic stares, Flack stumbled out of the front doors of the precinct and into the bitter cold and the blinding snow. He stood, in the middle of the sidewalk, bent over at the waist with his eyes closed and his hands on his knees and his lungs gasping for breath. Sucking in the cold, early February air until his chest and his throat burned. His entire body trembled. From both the frigid temperatures and the ordeal that he had just put himself willingly through. His heart pounded in his chest and the rush of blood thundered in his brain.

The enormity of what he has just done hit hard. Tears burned his eyes and his stomach wretched as he righted himself and he took off in jog down the sidewalk and around the corner to the left and into the empty alleyway behind the precinct. He placed his palms on the cold bricks and dropped his head and proceeded to vomit violently and profusely onto the snow below him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his back and neck as he stood there, suffering in both torment and agony, sobs wracking his entire body.

He cried until he didn't think he had any tears left. Sobbed until his throat felt hoarse and his stomach ached. Until the pain subsided. Even if just for a brief moment. Than he turned, moved several feet down the alley, and slowly slid down the ragged bricks until he was ass first in the inch deep snow. He stretched his legs out and closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. The coldness of the brick acting as pain relief for his throbbing head. Trails of tears remained on his face and burned his flushed cheeks.

Medium build…dark hair…dark eyes…said he was an old friend of yours…that you had survived his experiment.

Fucking Dean Lessing. Fucking Dean Lessing and his sick and twisted obsession with the city and the country not being prepared. He'd put that bomb in the building nearly four years ago and to Flack it seemed as if it was yesterday. That he'd gone to work that Sunday, praying and hoping that it would be one of those lazy, kick back and relax weekend shifts where you spent the majority of your time socializing up in the crime lab or at your desk catching up on what seemed like an endless, massive mountain of paper work that was the bane of your existence. He'd never suspected, as he drove to that crime scene in Greenwich and took a look a what was in store for his afternoon, that in less than half an hour all hell was going to break loose and his life changed forever. He'd never imagined in a million years, as he met a smiling, cheerful Lindsay Monroe and told her about the spring time block parties that were stables of New York City life, that he'd soon be fighting for his life.

"Well where do they have them in Montana?" he remembered asking as if he was reliving the entire moment.

"Wyoming," Lindsay had replied and he'd given a little laugh at the country girl's witty, charming sense of humour and they'd continued towards the crime scene in a companionable silence.

He even remembered what Lindsay Monroe had been wearing that day. A thin, cotton off white blouse with a scooped neck underneath this smart little green blazer that came to her elbows and grey pants. He'd thought, as he watched her climb of her department issued vehicle, that she looked way too damn cute and pure to be walking and working, the streets of New York City. She was young and vibrant and down to earth. A bubbly personality unlike any woman he'd ever come across until he'd met his future wife two years later. Truth of the matter, if Danny had never showed interest or made a move, Flack had been seriously considering doing so himself.

But Danny had made a move and expressed interest and Flack had backed off out of respect for his best friend. It hadn't stopped him from having a serious crush on the girl from Montana. Until things started going south for her and Danny and Flack had thanked his lucky stars that he'd never got embroiled in that mess.

Darwin Judge. He even remembered the dead security guard's name. Lying there on his back at the foot of the stairs. Mac had handed Monroe the camera to finish up on the overalls and pointed out a latent blood trail that travelled up the stairwell. He and Flack had followed it while Monroe announced she was going back to her truck to get an electrostatic dust lifter or some shit like that. Flack remembered how badly he wanted to go with her. Just head back onto the sunshine and skip work and do absolutely fuck all with the rest of the day. Just sit around and take it easy and forget about the troubles of the world for a little while. But no, he was on the clock and there he'd stay. Flashlight in hand, following Mac Taylor and thinking how that man was just a little too devoted to the job. He remembered very clearly that the blood led to the second floor. He could even remember the sound of the door opening and than clicking softly shut behind him as he and Mac stepped out into the barren, quiet hallway.

Mac had made some comment about how must be nice to have Sunday off. Flack wasn't sure what he had said in return, but remembered he'd thought Must be fucking nice is more like it. His thoughts were on getting the hell out of that brokerage firm. For some reason he didn't understand than and still didn't know, the quietness and desolation had freaked him out a little.

And that's when they came across that overturned ladder in the middle of hallway and the slightly askew ceiling panel above them. Flack could still recall, as Mac turned that ladder upright and climbed towards the ceiling, that he wished they could just fucking get out of there already. That Mac would just quit the super scientist shit and get on with the job already.

Bomb. He could hear Mac announce it like it was yesterday. Still see the look of panic on the older man's face as he scrambled down that ladder. Flack had hit the fire alarm to clear the building and he and the crime lab boss took off in an attempt to evacuate anyone who was stupid enough to not get the hell out at the sound of the alarms. Monroe had been warned by Mac to stay where she was, to move people away from the building. She'd been the lucky one. She'd come through relatively unscathed. Little more than a nasty gash to the head. But it had been Flack, who'd gone back down the hall to yell at that jackass in the noise cancelling head phones to get the hell out, that had bore the full burnt of Dean Lessing's fucking insanity.

And now Kieran, Flack's first born son, was bearing the brunt because his father had somehow, beyond all hope, survived the 'experiment'.

If I'd died none of this would be happening, Flack thought, beating the back of his head off of the brick wall behind him. If I'd just given up and died, Samantha wouldn't be going through complete and utter hell. Her life wouldn't be the mess it was now. She wouldn't be one foot in the mental hospital if you'd just fucking gave up.

You're a selfish bastard for thinking that way, the rational part of his mind told him. Because that woman loves you and you love her. She's the best goddamn thing that's ever happened to you and she takes your shit and sticks around and keeps coming back for more. And she gave you a son. She created the miracle of life with you, you ungrateful sonofabitch. And all you can do is sit here and feel sorry for yourself! Get a grip. Grow the fuck up!

Flack opened his eyes and coughed noisily. The air was starting to burn his lungs. Make his knees and his back ache. And sitting in the snow didn't help matters any either.

Get your ass up and go home to your wife. Take her in your arms and tell you love her and thank her for putting up with all of your crap. Tell her your sorry for ever blaming her and doubting her for what happened. Kiss away her tears and tell her that everything is going to be okay. That you're going to find your son and bring him home. Even if it kills you.

His cell phone, clipped to the waist band of his jeans and hidden by his shirt, vibrated against his stomach. Flack reached under the garment and snatched the phone and brought it out into view. Flipping it open, he checked the call display and frowned. UNKNOWN NAME, UNKNOWN NUMBER. The fifth time in half an hour that that had appeared and he'd ignored it.

Well now it's the sixth time, he thought, and hit end and snapped the cell closed. Want me bad enough, leave a fucking message.

He coughed once again and turned his head to the side and spit out phlegm and left over vomit that had been lingering in his mouth. The pain in his head had gone away. His stomach had finally finished turning circles and he was just about ready to head home. Put together a game plan. Do some research. Find where Dean Lessing was and get his son back.

"Hell of a show you put on in there," a familiar voice said in way of greeting as the not so welcome face joined him in the alley.

"How is it you always manage to track me down?" Flack asked, turning his head to spit once again. "You always find me. You got a tracking device attached to my ass?"

"Up it, actually," Angell replied.

Flack snorted.

She tossed him his winter jacket. "Left this at your desk. Figured you'd be freezing without it."

"Freezing is the least of my worries," Flack said, letting the coat fall into his lap. "Should be the least of yours, too. How'd you know you weren't coming out here to find my body? That I didn't blow my brains out?"

"Maybe because everyone knows that you pulled the trigger on your empty weapon to scare the shit out of Doyle. So you don't have any bullets on you to do away with yourself."

Flack smirked and laid a hand in the snow to help boost himself up onto his feet. Shrugging into his coat, he reached into one of the pockets and pulled out the clip for his weapon. The full clip. And as Angell watched with wide, shocked eyes, he took his gun from his holster and snapped the bullets into place.

"Always tell people they underestimate me too much," he said, and returned his gun to his hip. "You know, on my way here, I had it all planned out. I was going to go in there, scare the guy into confessing what he'd done to my son and where he'd left him, and than I was going to shoot him right between the eyes. That was my plan. Because losing my son? That would have been decent grounds for a temporary insanity plea, don't you think?"

"What made you change your mind?" Angell asked.

"The fact that I have a wife at home that needs me," Flack replied. "Who I love more than life itself and needs me to be strong for her and the babies she's carrying. She doesn't need me doing something stupid and fucking her life up even more."

"And you don't think nearly breaking that guy's neck and pulling the trigger on an empty gun and scaring him until he pisses himself qualifies as stupid?" Angell inquired.

"Guy admitted he wanted to molest my son, Jess," Flack informed her. "And he probably would have if he'd had more time alone with him. So you tell me. You think I was just going to sit back and let some pathetic piece of shit tell me he wanted to fuck my thirteen month old son? You think that Hawkes wouldn't do the same damn thing if you guys had a kid and had to hear something like that?"

"You and Sheldon are two completely different people, Don," Angell responded.

"Yeah…I know. But I guess last night you got the two of us mixed up and thought I was him. That could be the only reason to explain what you did."

"What I did?" she grabbed a hold of his arm as he attempted to step past her. "You kissed me first!" she reminded him.

"I gave you a kiss that a family member gives another family member. That's it. It was nothing major. It was a show of affection. Don't read into it."

"I don't know what your family does, Flack, but in mine, we don't go around kissing people like that. And I'm not a family member of yours. I'm a colleague. I'm a friend of yours and your wife's. And I also happen to be your ex girlfriend?"

"Ex girlfriend?" he laughed at that. "You were an ex something. I wouldn't call it a girlfriend. Don't fool yourself, Jess. Don't trick yourself into thinking that there was more to it. Just like you'd tricked yourself when were together, or whatever the hell we were, into thinking that something major was going to come of us."

"Do you always have to be a bastard, Flack? Do you? Do you always have to get that parting shot in? Rip peoples' hearts out? Shit all over them?"

"I'm just telling it the way it is, Jess. You kissed me and I kissed you back. I'm not denying that. And you know what? It was nice. But it was a moment. I was weak and I needed someone and you were there for me. I was reaching for something and there you were. And I reacted. Badly. But I can't take back what happened no matter how bad I want to."

"You never wanted it to happen?" Angell asked. "Because you really seemed into it last night."

"A moment. What did I just say? I was caught up in the moment. And yeah, if I could I'd take it back."

She sighed heavily and looked away from him. "That's harsh, Flack," she said.

"What the hell do you want me to say? You want me to tell you that I loved it? That I love you? That's never going to happen, Jess! Because I don't love you. I love my wife! Did you expect me to just up and leave her? That I'd feel something when you kissed me and…"

"We kissed, Flack! Get it right!"

"Whatever. When we kissed, than. Did you think I'd suddenly feel this undying and unwavering love for you? That I'd leave my wife and break up my family? Is that what you thought?"

"Honesty?" Angell asked. "Maybe…somewhere deep down? Yeah. There was that hope."

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" he laughed at that. "You can't be serious! You just can't! I've never felt that way about you, Jess! Not than, not now. I'm a married man! A happily married man! And regardless of what you think, I love my wife!"

"I never said you didn't, Don," she said quietly. "I know you love, Samantha. Everyone knows that she's your entire world. They see it every time you so as much speak her name or look at her. You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. But there's also part of me that…"

He held up his hand to silence her. "Spare me, okay? Because there's someone else involved her other them me, you and Sam. Hawkes. Remember him? You're boyfriend? Or did you just suddenly forget about him?"

"Of course not."

"Sheldon Hawkes is a very, very good friend to Sam and me," Flack reminded her. "He's always been there when we've needed him. And I have more respect for that man than I do for my own family members. He's a hell of a guy and he deserves better than someone pining away for some guy she can't have. Do you even realize what an amazing guy you have?"

"I know you guys are close…"

"He delivered my son! On my living room floor! So I'm not going to stand here and let you disrespect Hawkes like that! ! If it wasn't for him being there when Sam and I needed him, Kieran probably wouldn't even be here right now and I…"

Flack stopped when he realized what he had just said about his son.

"Don…" Angell took a step towards him.

"Don't…just don't. Don't come near me. I can't believe you even have the nerve to bring stuff like this up with everything else that is going on. My son is missing! Dean Lessing has my son and all you can do is stand here and throw last night up in my face and bitch and moan about what might have been? How can you do that? How can you disrespect me and my wife and my son like that?!"

"I just thought…"

"Well you thought wrong. Okay? You thought terribly, terribly wrong. I have zero fucking tolerance for this shit right now, Jess. Zero fucking tolerance!"

He yanked his arm out of her grip and started off down the alleyway.

"Don, I'm sorry!" Angell called after him. "I never…"

"Save it!" he yelled back. "And while you're at it, stay the hell away from me! Permanently!"

Angell sighed heavily and shoved her hands in her pockets and watched his departing back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But I can't do that."

Lindsay glanced up as she heard the apartment door click open. She was standing at the counter, preparing a pot of tea and a separate mug of the awful tasting decaffeinated crap that Samantha was relegated to drinking. She had somehow managed to get her friend to not only agree to have something to drink, but eat a little of the garden salad and turkey sandwich that Linds had made for her. It took a lot of coaxing and a lot of talking about how she needed to strength and the energy for the babies she was carrying, and for when Kieran finally came home, but after several minutes of silently staring at the food offered to her on a plastic plate that belonged to her son, Sam had caved in and began to eat.

And now, against all odds whatsoever, Lindsay had managed to convince her to come out of the nursery. Her friend now sat on the couch, under the watchful eye of her in laws, with the television and radio off in order to avoid the news and talk about what had happened, and still clutching the stuffed toy and the jammies in her hands. She wasn't ready to give them up, and no one was forcing her to.

"There's a sight I'd never thought I'd see," Flack commented, as he stood in the kitchen doorway. "Lindsay Monroe making something in my kitchen. Anyone's kitchen for that matter."

She gave a little grin. "I'll have you know, Flack, that I happen to be an excellent cook."

"Not that hard to throw frozen shit in the oven or press start on a microwave," he chided.

"Ha, ha," Lindsay responded. "Very damn funny. You don't seem overly shocked to see me."

"I guess I'm more relieved to see you here than anything," he said, journeying into the kitchen. "I know you and Sammie are getting kinda tight online and what not. And I was hoping…I don't know…I guess I was hoping that she'd have someone here that wasn't on the job. Someone that was just here for her. Carmen's her best friend and Kieran's godmother and all, but she's working the case so it's hard for her to be cop and friend all at the same time. I don't know…" he leaned against the counter next to where Lindsay was busy preparing a plate of cookies and sweets for everyone. "I just wanted someone to be here for her."

"Well…" she said, and reached out to rub his arm softly. "Here I am."

"Thank you," he said, appreciation in his eyes and voice.

"No problem," she assured him. "I'd like to think that Sam and you would do the same thing for me if a situation like this ever occurred."

"We would." Flack said. "Any situation and we would."

Lindsay smiled. "I'm sorry, Don. That you guys have to go through this. But for what it's worth, I know that Kieran is going to be okay. That he's going to be found safe and found and back home with mommy and daddy and Socks…" she nodded down at the feline purring noisily and rubbing against her legs.

"Slippers," Flack corrected. "It's Slippers. She's our four legged, furry baby."

"You with a cat. Now there's a sight I never thought I'd see. I remember walking past you at my first crime scene at the zoo and you were sneezing away and bitching and crabbing about being allergic to cats. And you go and get one?"

"I didn't exactly go and get her," Flack said, bending down to scoop the cat up into his arms. "Slippers kind of came to us. Well, to Sammie actually. About a month after K was born, Sam bundled the baby up and put him in that snuggli thing so they could get some fresh air. She was out at the back of the building when this tiny, mangy, ugly kitten comes up and starts meowing at her and rubbing against her legs. So, Sam, whose unable to turn anyone or anything away, scooped her up and brought her home."

"And you were just okay with it?" Lindsay asked, intrigued by the story.

"She hid it," Flack replied, scratching the underside of Slippers' chin. "She put it in a cardboard box in the master bathroom. I came home, all tired from a shift, wanted to take a shower and she tells me I'm going to have to take one in the smaller bathroom. Gave me this excuse that there were no dryers available in the laundry room so there was clothes drying in the tub."

"And you actually bought that?"

"Hey, I was tired. Coming off a triple. So anyway, I don't think anything of it. We're in bed later and I'm exhausted and all of a sudden my eyes start burning and I start sneezing like crazy and I'm itchy as all hell. And Sam's saying well maybe it's the new laundry soap I wished the sheets in. Or maybe you have a cold. And she's making all these little excuses up and when Sam is guilty about something, she gets all flustered and starts rambling away. So I obviously know something is up, right?"

Lindsay nodded.

"All of a sudden, I hear this noise. Coming from the bathroom. Something scratching on the door. And than this meowing. And I look at Sam and you know what she says to me?"

Lindsay shook her head.

"She says, the neighbours must have got a cat."

Lindsay couldn't help but laugh.

"Seriously. That's what she tried telling me. So I get out of bed and I go and open the door and there's this kitten standing in our bathroom, torn toilet paper all over the place, and this half eaten can of tuna and a bowl of milk by the tub."

"And?"

"And I had a little freak out and told her first thing in the morning the cat was out of here and Sam begged and pleaded and cried and I just can't take when she gets like that. So I pretended I was boxing this cat up to take to a shelter and she was just hysterical. Man, she was bawling and so pissed at me. I came back a couple hours later and the cat's got a bath and she's been groomed and her nails trimmed and all her shots. Appointments made to get declawed and fixed. Brought home a litter box and food and proper bowls and everything else we'd need. And that was it. Slippers became part of the Flack family."

Lindsay smiled, both at the story, and at the sight of Don Flack cradling a cat in his arm as if it was a baby, stroking it's soft fur over and over again. The cat purring contently and wagging it's tail.

"And than it was twice a month allergy shots and daily meds for me," Flack said with a chuckle. "Wouldn't get rid of Slippers for anything in the world now. It's amazing how attached you can get to an animal. And she's good with Kieran. Puts up with him pulling her tail and yanking at her fur. Lets him lie on her. She's been wandering the place since he's been going. Crying a lot. Looking in his crib."

"Slippers probably misses her brother," Lindsay mused, reaching out to scratch the cat's head. "Animal's have feelings too. Your father told me that you'd gone rushing out because of the neighbour's DNA being found? Is there any leads on that or…"

"Guy that lives across the hall was the one that snatched Kieran," Flack told her. "He's got a record for B and E so he knew how to pick the lock. Danny and Speedle picked him up a while ago. We heard all the commotion over there but I kept Sam away from it. I didn't want her knowing right away that it was him. I wanted to wait to tell her as soon as we got all the facts and brought Kieran home."

"And is Kieran okay? Did they find him….?"

"Kieran was nowhere around. The guy was paid to take him."

Lindsay arched an eyebrow. "By who?"

Flack sighed heavily. "Dean Lessing," he replied, in a quiet voice.

"Are you serious? How?…What?…Why…?"

"I don't know the whole story yet. No one does. All we know is that Lessing paid him to kidnap Kieran and he drove to Trump Towers and left K in the car, engine running and the heater on. So that K wouldn't get sick."

"Which shows that Lessing isn't out to hurt him," Lindsay concluded. "If he was he wouldn't have cared if the baby got sick. And why would he want Kieran in the first place?"

"I don't know, Linds. I just don't know. But this is about me. It's not about Kieran. It's about me and the fact that I survived the bombing and in his sick brain, I guess he thinks because of that we're friends or something. I don't know. It's all crazy shit if you ask me. So now we're back to the drawing board. We know Kieran's alive and whose he with. We just don't know where they are."

"They'll find him, Don," she assured her, rubbing his arm affectionately. "I promise you, they'll find him."

Flack just nodded. "How's Sammie?" he asked, setting the cat down on the kitchen floor.

"She's…what's the best word? Coping. I managed to get her to come out of the nursery and to eat something. Not much, but it's a start. I'm trying to keep her from seeing or hearing anything about the case. For her own sanity."

"Thanks, Linds. For coming all this way. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," she said with a smile. "You know, I can't say I was too surprised when Danny told me that you guys were expecting a baby and getting married. I think I knew, from the get go, that there was something there between you two. Something that went far beyond a casual thing for either of you. It was in the way you looked at each other. The way you found these ways to touch each other so subtly. It's hard to explain. I noticed it that day she got in shit with Sinclair and the two of you were in the hallway behind Mac's office. The way that you were standing so close together and your eyes never left each other's faces the whole time you talked. I don't know. It was just something I noticed between the two of you."

"You probably noticed it before we did," he chuckled, and peeled off his sweatshirt and tossed it on one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Lindsay noticed, in the simple black t-shirt, how big Flack had gotten since the last time she'd seen him. At least twenty pounds heavier, if not more.

"It's Sam's cooking," he said, noticing her staring, and most likely wondering, about his weight gain. "But you probably were the first to noticed anything between me and Sammie."

"I knew right there and than that the two of you would have something special. And I remember I was so jealous because I wanted Danny to be just like you. To look at me with that same adoration and respect that you looked at Sam with. And I knew deep down that things were just too fractured between the two of us for that to ever happen."

"He never stopped loving you, Linds," Flack said. "He's with Erica but he never stopped loving you."

She sighed. "I know. And I never stopped loving him. It's just…things are complicated. Very, very complicated."

"Does he know you're in the city?"

"No one knows outside of you and Samantha. And I'd like to keep it that way. For a little bit. I want to concentrate and focus on you guys and helping you through this and than worry about seeing Danny and trying to make sense out of my personal life. So if you don't mind…"

"No problem," Flack said. "My lips are sealed. And thanks. For being here for us. We got a lot of friends and what not. But they're too busy being cops to worry about being here for us in other ways. So it means a lot to have you here."

"It means a lot to be here. And I'm glad there's no hard feelings. You know, considering…"

"Water under the bridge, Linds. It's all water under the bridge. We've all grown up. Or at least I have. Not sure about Messer though."

Lindsay gave a small laugh.

"It's good to see you, Lindsay," Flack said.

"It's good to you too, Don. I wish it was under better circumstances, mind you."

"Me too," he agreed with a sigh. "I'm going to go in and check on Sammie. Find a way to break the news to her. I never should have told her I thought that they'd found K. I should have just kept my mouth shut. But I wanted to give her something. Some shred of hope, you know?"

"You know he's alive. That is hope. And that's what you tell her."

Flack nodded, and taking a deep breath, released it slowly before heading out into the living room to face the consequences.

He stood by the side of the couch and ran a hand over her hair and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. It was killing him to see her like that. Just sitting there staring with that haunted, empty look in her usually vibrant golden eyes. It was if no one else in the room existed. Just her and her overwhelming sorrow and guilt.

She looked up at him. Tears sparkling in her eyes. "Did you find him?" she asked hopefully. "Is he okay, Donnie? Is Kieran okay? Is he at the hospital? Is he okay?"

Flack shook his head slowly.

Horror registered on her face. "He's dead?" she whispered. "He's dead? My baby's dead?"

"Kieran's alive," he assured her. "We just don't know where he is."

"But you know who took him, right? You got the guy that took him?"

"He's in custody. He admitted to breaking in here and taking Kieran."

"Who was it? Someone we know? Someone that you busted a long time ago that wanted to get back at you?"

"It doesn't matter right now who is was. Okay? What matters is that he's in custody and we know that Kieran is still alive. That the person who has him now isn't going to hurt him."

"The person that has him now? What's that suppose to mean? A second person has him?"

Flack nodded.

"I don't….I don't understand any of this. Who are these people? What do they want from us, Donnie? No one's called for a ransom. What haven't they called and asked for something?"

"Because the person who has him has something to prove, Sammie. That's all you need to know right now. That the person who has him is using him to teach the rest of us a lesson. He's not out to hurt or kill Kieran. I promise you that he's not going to hurt him."

"But how can you be sure? And what does he have to prove? Teach us a lesson? What…?"

"It's Dean Lessing," he told her.

Her eyes widened. Her chest constricted and her body trembled as she slowly rose to her feet. "Lessing? Lessing has our son?"

"He paid the first perp to take Kieran. He did his research and found someone that had a record for break and enter and paid him to get in here and take him. He was watching you. He knew that you left the apartment, alone. He waited until you left a second time to pick the lock and scoop Kieran."

"But the only person that knew I left the apartment was…." Realization and shook registered on her face. "Oh my God," she breathed, a hand to her forehead. "The guy across the hall!" she shrieked. "The fucking guy across the hall! He did this! He took our son?!"

"Calm down, Sammie," Flack laid his hands on her shoulders, spoke to her in a soft, soothing tone. "Just calm down."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down!" she screamed and slapped his hands away. "You knew! You knew and never told me when you left!"

"I didn't want to…"

"You knew that there wasn't something quite right about him! You told me yourself he creeped you out! That you didn't trust him!"

"And you told me not to overreact and get paranoid and I listened to you, Samantha. Please, just calm down and…"

"You promised you'd protect us!" she yelled, beating her hand against his chest and than shoving him away from her. "You promised me, Don! You promised me that you would never let anyone hurt me or Kieran! You promised me!!"

"I know I did. I never thought that…."

"You never think! You never think about anything but yourself! You told me that you would never, ever let anyone hurt us! That you'd protect us! Why didn't you protect us! Why did you lie to me!"

"Samantha, there was no way I could have known that something like this would happen."

"You fucking lied to me!" she shrieked. "You lied to me! And to Kieran! How could you lie to us?! How could you let this happen?!"

"I never let anything happen, baby. I had no idea that something like this was going to happen. And neither did you and we need to…"

"Don't fucking touch me!" Sam screamed, pushing him away as he attempted to wrap his arms around her in an effort to calm her down. "Don't touch me! I hate you! This is your fault! It's your fault Kieran's gone! Because you said that you'd protect us and you lied! This is all your fault and I hate you!"

"Samantha…calm down…" Flack tried to remain calm, knowing that what she was saying, and the way she was acting, was nothing more than a by product of her fear and worry and grief. "Just calm down. You're going to do something to the babies and know you don't want that happening."

"I don't care anymore!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Don't you understand that! I don't care! Kieran's gone! He's gone and he's never coming back!"

"Yes, he is, Samantha," Flack told her. "He's going to come back. We're going to find him and he's going to come home. I promise you that…"

"I don't believe you! I don't trust you! Because you promised me that you'd protect us! And now look!"

"This isn't my fault," he defended himself.

"Samantha…honey…" Patricia laid her hand on her daughter in law's arm. "Just calm down…"

"Don't touch me!" she screamed. "Don't fucking touch me! It's his fault this happened! Because he said he'd take care of us and protect us and he didn't!"

"Sammie, just please calm down," Flack begged, reaching for her hand. "You need to just calm down and take some of your medication and…"

"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!" she repeated, yanking her hand away from him. "YOU DON'T HAVE A RIGHT TO TOUCH ME! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU AND I WISH YOU WERE DEAD! NOT OUR SON! YOU!"

"You need to calm the fuck down," Flack felt his patience just snap. He advanced on her and grabbed her by the tops of her arms. Hard enough to hurt and leave a mark. "Calm down! Just fucking calm down!"

"Let go of me!" she shrieked and attempted to fight him off. "Get away from me and let go of me!"

"Donnie…." Patricia sounded terrified. "Don't hurt her. She doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't mean what she's saying!"

"Samantha…calm the fuck down…" Flack repeated, as she tried to scratch and claw at his arms.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" she was a woman possessed. Tears pouring down her face, her head thrashing violently from side to side. "THIS IS YOUR FAULT! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"I SAID CALM DOWN!" he yelled at her.

"I HATE YOU!" she screamed back, than proceeded to drop her head and sink her teeth into his forearm.

"You little fucking bitch!" he bellowed, and dropping one of his hands from her arms, used it to grab her by her hair and literally pull her off of him. He grabbed her once again and forcefully backed her up to the couch, until the back of her legs hit the sofa and she tumbled into it. "Mom…get those needles that Hawkes brought by earlier….on the fridge in a plastic container…it's sedatives….get one for me…"

"NO!" Sam sobbed, attempting to fight him off. "NO! PLEASE DON'T! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!"

"Listen to me, Samantha…" he climbed onto the couch, a knee on either side of her legs, his hands pinning her shoulders to the sofa. "Listen to me! You need the medicine! Okay? You need it! And this is going to hurt me a lot more than it's going to hurt you."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Donnie…" she wailed. "I didn't mean it! I'll be good! I promise you I'll be good. I love you. You know I do. You know I didn't mean it!"

"I know. Okay? I know. And I love you, too and you know I do. But this is for your own good, Samantha. You know it is."

Patricia hurried back, holding a syringe filled with medication in her hands. "Don…are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Hawkes gave her the first one this morning in the hospital and showed me how to do it. Wouldn't be the first time. I've had to give an epi shot to people out on the street a few times in the course of the job."

"I know, but…"

He snatched it out of her hand. "Dad, I need you to hold her. Stand behind the couch and hold her still."

Flack Sr nodded silently and did as his son asked.

Patricia began to cry. At seeing her daughter in law in such a state and the measures they had to take to care for her. Lindsay wrapped her arm around the older woman's shoulders and led her from the room.

Flack snapped the protective cap off of the top of the syringe and tossed it aside. Tapped the side of the needle to break up air bubbles. Depressed the plunger. Just like Hawkes had showed him.

"Please…" his wife begged. "Please don't…don't do this…"

"I'm sorry," tears slipped down his cheeks. Unabashedly. Unashamed. "I'm sorry, baby. You know I love you. I'm sorry."

"Don't!" she pleaded, as he pulled up the left arm of her t-shirt. "PLEASE DON'T!"

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before jabbing the needle into the side of her arm and quickly injecting her with the sedative.

"How could you do this to me!" she wailed, kicking and flailing and fighting against her father in law's strong grip. "How could you do this to me! You're suppose to love me!"

"That's why I did it," Flack told her, slowly removing the needle and climbing off of her. Sweat pouring down his forehead. He stood watching over her, as her shrieks quickly transformed into sobbing. Than sobbing into quiet weeping as the medicine began to take affect.

He nodded at his father, indicating he could let her go. Flack Sr backed off, held out his hand for the used syringe and than took it and quietly departed into the kitchen.

Flack wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. The salt of the perspiration stinging the open wound. He looked down at it. She'd broken the skin and drawn blood. His heart pounded in his chest. His breathing was ragged. For such a little thing, she'd put up a hell of a fight.

And now, the woman who'd kicked and screamed and bit and who had seemed possessed by the devil, was curled up in a fetal position, weeping quietly, her tiny body shaking.

His heart broke as he stood watching her in that condition. Seeing her so torn and broken. Destroyed.

Fuck you, Lessing, he thought. Fuck you for doing this to my family. I'm going to find you. And when I find you and I get my hands on you, I'm going to beat the living shit out of you. And than I'm going to put as many bullets into you as possible.

But first thing was first. He had to take care of his wife.

"It's okay, Sammie…" he whispered, dropping to his knees alongside of the couch. He stroked her hair and cleared tears from her face. "It's going to be okay."

"Kieran…" her son's name tumbled from her lips.

"We'll find him. I promise you we'll find him."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood up. Wiping away his own tears with the front of his t-shirt, he sat down on the couch and leaned his head back, eyes closed, composing himself. Than he cleared his throat and opened his eyes and leaned over and gathered her tiny body into his arms and pulled her into his lap. So she was sideways, legs dangling over his thighs. She weakly curled an arm around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder as he held her as tight as he possibly could.

And than, and only than, when he was sure that she was safe, did he allow himself to break down. Not caring that his parents or Lindsay Monroe watched from the doorway. Not caring if he seemed pathetic and weak.

All he wanted was his family back. For his life to go back to normal.

And he vowed to stop at nothing to make sure that happened.

Mac Taylor knew that the chances of Dean Lessing being at his registered address were slim to none. Lessing was too smart to stay at home, with a missing child. He was no doubt in hiding somewhere, plotting his next move. Planning the next stage of his 'experiment'. It was obvious that he wanted Kieran Flack alive and well. That the baby to him was someone to be revered. Worshiped of sorts. Because he was the offspring of someone that had, beyond all hope, managed to survive that bombing.

As twisted and sick as it was, it was also masterfully brilliant. What better of a way to get your message across than to use the baby?

The fear and worry was what exactly he had in store for Kieran. And that was why the time to act was now. They had to catch a mad man to save the life of an innocent, precocious thirteen month old. And despite the realization that Lessing was no doubt long gone and lying in wait somewhere, the team had adequately prepared themselves. Accompanied by the officers from the ESU division, they wore Kevlar vests as they drove, in a small convoy, to the lower east side of the city. They had to be prepared. It was highly likely that Lessing had left traps. Or that if he was there, he was heavily armed and extremely dangerous.

"What's the chances he's even going to be there?" Speed asked, as he drove himself and Mac to Lessing's address.

"Slim," Mac replied. "But if he's not there, there's bound to be something that will lead us to him. And Kieran. And finding Kieran is the top priority in all of this."

Speed nodded in agreement. "You know, if it was Addie…." he sighed heavily. "If it was Addie, my gun would have been loaded and I would have shot the guy."

"Well it wasn't Addie," Mac told the younger man coolly. "And it's unfair to Flack to even attempt to put yourself in his shoes. And even more unfair to him that the majority of you haven't been as supportive as you should have been."

Speed sighed. "If you're talking about the things I said to Reed…"

"What you said to Reed, about Samantha, was none of his business," Mac interrupted. "Because of what you said, the city has vilified her. Made her into some monster capable of killing her own child. And that's the farthest from the truth. She would never, and could never, hurt her son."

"I never said that…"

"I doesn't matter what you said," Mac snapped. "It's the fact that you said it in the first place. Because now everyone is looking at her like a suspect instead of a grieving mother."

"But that wasn't my intention," Speed said. "It wasn't. And now we have the proof that she wasn't involved and…"

"People won't care about the proof!" Mac exclaimed. "The damage has been done! The proof and the evidence won't matter. In the court of public opinion, she's a bad mother and nothing will ever change their minds."

"I didn't mean to…"

Mac's cell phone beeped noisily, interrupting Speed's attempt at an apology. The crime lab boss reached into into his jacket pocket and pulled his phone out and hit talk. "Detective Taylor…" he said in way of greeting. "What?" he asked. "When? … Where?…"

Speed arched a curious eyebrow at Mac's one sided conversation.

"Get this information out to the press right away!" Mac ordered. "Get it out to the commissioner! Get it released to every precinct, ever highway patrol unit. Anyone that you possibly can, Carmen! Call if you hear anything else!"

Speed glanced over as Mac hung up his phone. "What's….?"

"Get on the radio to dispatch," Mac told him. "Tell them to put the word out. Dean Lessing was spotted, two hours ago, at a CVS and a thrift store near Battery Park."

"His apartment is across from the park," Speed said. "What…?"

"He purchased two bottles of peroxide and baby diapers at the drug store," Mac continued. "And at the thrift store he picked up used clothing. Used toddler clothing for a girl!"

"You don't think that…."

"Dean Lessing is going to turn Kieran Flack into a girl," Mac concluded. "A little girl with blond hair."

"Jesus Christ…" Speed breathed in disbelief.

"It's how he's going to get Kieran out of the city. No one will expect him to be travelling with a blond haired, blue eyed blond little girl!"

"Sonofabitch is smart, Mac," Speed shook his head.

"Well unfortunately for him," the older man said. "He's met his goddamn match. And I'm coming for him."

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