DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.
A/N: THANKS TO ALL OF YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS AND SUPPORT FOR THE DEPRESSION STORY LINE. AS SOMEONE WHO STRUGGLED WITH THE CONDITION AFTER MY FATHER'S DEATH AND THEN AGAIN AFTER MY SON'S DIAGNOSIS, IT'S NICE TO KNOW I'M NOT ALONE!
It's What Friends Do
"When you're weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all
I'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
I'll take your part
When darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
See how they shine
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind."
-Bridge Over Troubled Waters, Paul Simon
"You know…" Lindsay yawned noisily and stretched languorously as she relaxed in the middle of Sam and Flack's rumbled Queen sized bed. "This is the first time I've ever been in bed with another woman before."
Sam, sitting on Flack's designated side of the bed in a pair of yoga shorts and an old, massive NYPD hockey jersey with FLACK 30 printed in white on the back, couldn't help but laugh at the perverted undertones sneaking into that simple comment. Or the slightly devilish grin that sneaked across her best friend's face as the country girl lay sprawled on her back beside her.
The television across the room was tuned into a marathon of Blush: The Search for the Next Great Makeup Artist. While both girls had been loyal, almost obsessed fans from day one and had never missed an episode, a marathon had just been too hard to resist. The reality show had been their guilty pleasure, gathering at each others apartments to watch, even if they did have to tape some episodes and see them together on their day off. Even though they already knew the winner, they had settled down in the bedroom with their usual television or movie watching routine. Ice cream, Oreo cookies, red liquorice, sour candy and chocolate milk. And lots of girl talk, naturally. Only tonight, instead of taking up residence in the living room, they'd instead opted to inhabit Sam and Flack's bed. While Danny had been relegated to solitude in the living room.
"Wish I could say the same thing," Sam remarked dryly, as she looked back at the television and took a sip of chocolate milk from the neon pink plastic tumbler in her hand. She cast a glance out of the corner of her eye, amused at the slightly curious and confused expression that came over Lindsay's face. The other woman's brows arched and her sparkling brown eyes burrowed into Sam's side.
"What's that suppose to mean?" Lindsay asked.
"What's what suppose to mean?" Sam inquired, settling the plastic glass between her legs and reaching for a handful of sour candy from the bowl sitting next to her.
"You just said, 'Wish I could say the same thing' when I commented that it was the first time I'd been in bed with another woman before."
Sam nodded in agreement and fought to keep a straight face.
"Did you mean that you've shared a bed with a woman before platonically? Like at a slumber party or something or did you mean that you've shared a bed with a woman…non platonically."
"Didn't you have slumber parties when you were kid?" Sam asked, popping a candy into her mouth.
"Yeah…but we either camped out in the backyard in separate sleeping bags or on the floor in the basement or my bedroom. I've never, ever slept in the same bed with a girl. Ever. And apparently, you have. But was it just as friends or…"
"Or what?" the tiny brunette asked patiently. "I've been in bed with another woman before. Both as a kid and when I was in college. As a kid, I went to sleepovers and never thought twice about bunking down with a couple of friends. And in college…well that was anything but platonic."
Lindsay sprung up into a sitting position. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "You've actually slept with a woman? As in slept with them slept with them?"
"Quit talking in riddles," Sam laughed. "Just say the words. Ask what you want to ask."
Lindsay scooted closer to her and lowered her voice. "Are you telling me you've had sex with a woman?" she asked.
Sam just smiled and kept her attention focused on the television.
"Sammie!" Lindsay grabbed a pillow and swatted her best friend with it. "Did you or didn't you?"
"Would it bother you if I did?" she inquired. "Like is a confession going to send you running out of here screaming in terror? Are you going to stop talking to me for the rest of our lives if I say yes?"
"What? No! Of course not! I mean, if that's your thing, that's fine with me. It doesn't mean I love you any less or we're not going to be friends anymore. If you're into guys and girls too…"
Sam nearly spit her chocolate milk out. "I am not into both guys and girls," she said, coughing noisily and using her fingers to clear away milk that had dribbled out of her mouth and onto the jersey she wore. "I love men. Only men. Trust me. There's no question about that. I especially love the man that I'm with."
"Okay…but…"
"But…sometimes…I don't know….sometimes young people get curious about things. They get curious and start to question things in their lives. And then they get totally polluted at the campus pub one night and all of a sudden, they're not objecting when their admittedly bi roommate is busting her move the second your back in your dorm room."
Lindsay's eyes widened. "So what you're telling me is that you've had sex with another woman."
"She totally schooled me," Sam said and gave a huge, content sigh. "I think it was probably one of the most erotic experiences of my life."
Lindsay continued to stare at her best friend, completely dumbfounded.
"And you know what else I think?" Sam asked, her voice low and sultry as she turned towards Lindsay. Leaning across the bed, she laid her hand on the back of the other woman's neck and pulled Lindsay towards her. So that their lips were a mere half inch apart. "Do you want to hear what else I think, Linds?"
She swallowed noisily. "Okay…" she squeaked out nervously.
"I think you're the most damn gullible person on earth!" Sam exclaimed, then pecked her friend's cheek and drew away, laughing hysterically.
"You moron!" Lindsay laughed as well and swatted her best friend upside the head with a pillow. "You really had me going there! I thought you were being totally serious!"
"Were you hoping I was?" Sam asked. "Were you turned on by my little 'admission' and hopeful I was going to bust a move on you?"
"Hey, it's not a sin to have a girl crush," Lindsay declared. "There's nothing wrong with it. And I can readily admit that you're mine. There must be someone that you are crushing on. Of the same sex I mean."
Sam helped herself to an Oreo. Frowning at the sight of the mess the two of them had created together. An empty carton of ice cream and two spoons inside of it sitting on the floor next to the bed. A nearly empty bag of cookies in the middle of the comforter and crumbs as far as the eye could see. The sugar granules from the candy littering the sheets. Liquorice tumbling out of their back. It was a pig sty. There were no other words for it. And would definitely need to be tidied up before Flack got home and went on the war path about the mess.
"So who's your girl crush?" Lindsay asked, grabbing two cookies. "And don't try and tell me you don't have one."
"Hmmm…" Sam sat her cup of milk on the night stand and shoved garbage out of the way as she arranged the pillows at the head of the bed and settled back against them. "I don't know…I think Jess was my girl crush. Absolutely. Not that there's anything wrong with you, Bumpkin. You're insanely adorable and all of that. But I need a wilder girl. I'd hate to corrupt you."
"How do you know I wouldn't be corrupting you?" Lindsay inquired, winking playfully at her best friend as she placed her own pillows in front of the headboard and pushing her body up the bed, laid back against them.
"You're right. You could be the one to do it. It is always the ones you least expect. So we've talked about our girl crushes," Sam reached for her milk and took a sip. "How about same sex crushes?"
"Famous ones or real life ones?" Lindsay asked.
"I already know all about your Ben Affleck and Matt Damon crushes," Sam replied. "Just like you know all about my David Beckham and Colin Farrell obsessions. I mean real life guys. Preferably ones that we both know."
"Do you have a guy crush that we both know?" Lindsay inquired. "Who is it? And don't say Danny unless you want to be wearing that chocolate milk."
"Marty Pino," Sam sheepishly admitted.
"What?!" Lindsay howled in laughter. "Marty Pino?! Are you serious?! I thought you hated the guy for being such a player! Or at least for pretending that he's a player! I thought you called him an arrogant, obnoxious, idiotic sonofabitch. And that you said you didn't know how his wife put up with him?"
"All an act," Sam giggled. "Well I mean, he is an arrogant, obnoxious SOB. I mean, Don can be one of those too and I love him to the ends of the earth. But Marty…he's totally hot. I just couldn't take the risk of letting my little secret out in the open. I'd never live that one down if Don knew about it. Or even Danny for that matter. He'd make me suffer. So? What about you? Who do you have a crush on?"
"Well…do you know who I think is totally hot?"
Sam shook her head.
"Hawkes," Lindsay told her.
"Hawkes…" Sam echoed, giving a nod of approval before they both sighed at the sheer thought.
"But if I tell you my crush, you'll laugh at me," Lindsay said.
"Why would I laugh at you?" Sam asked. "I'm not in the business of laughing at my best friend."
"Oh trust me, Sammie. You're going to laugh. Because it's probably the last person you're expecting."
"Well that rules Don out," she concluded. "He's usually the first person on women's lists. I have no idea why though," she said, tongue in cheek. "It's not like he's good looking or anything."
Lindsay arched an eyebrow.
"Okay so he is," Sam laughed. "So he's a complete hottie and I seriously lucked out. So what if he's exceptionally good looking and has the most incredible blue eyes and the most amazing…" she fanned herself with her hand. "I'll leave it there. Use your imagination."
"Oh trust me, I have a number of times since I've met Flack," Lindsay admitted. "And let me say, if reality is anything like my imagination, you're one lucky, lucky girl."
Sam smiled broadly. "Yes…yes I am," she giggled. "Quit stalling. Whose the crush? Don't hold me in suspense here."
Lindsay took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Promise me you won't laugh?" she asked.
Sam made the sign of the cross over her heart. "I promise," she replied.
"Okay…now keep in mind this is just an innocent crush just like your's on Pino and neither of us have any intention of ever letting them become anything more than that. And also keep in mind that this person is the last one you expect to hear from me."
"If you say Mac I'm going to piss myself," Sam said with a smirk.
"No…that's you remember? Marine Mac as you call him?"
Her best friend blushed furiously.
"You are so bad," Lindsay laughed.
"Quit holding out on me!" Sam scolded. "Come on! I told you!"
"Fine…fine…seeing as I know you'll never, ever let this go…it's Adam."
Sam's head snapped towards the other woman. Her eyes wide. "Excuse me?" she asked. "Adam? Adam who?"
"Adam."
"As in Adam Ross? As in Adam Ross my annoying, geeky yet adorable baby brother?"
Lindsay nodded.
Sam's lips twitched. "You're…you're kidding right?"
Lindsay shook her head.
Sam couldn't hold it in anymore. The laughter exploded out of her. Nearly sending her toppling over the side of the bed. "Adam?" she roared. "Oh my God! Please tell me you're kidding! Tell me you're not serious! Not Adam! Not my brother! Anyone but him!"
Lindsay frowned. "I thought you said you weren't going to laugh," she mumbled, sulkily crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm sorry…" Sam wiped tears off of her cheeks. "Really…I'm sorry…I never…I just never expected to hear that in a million years."
"It's just an innocent crush," the other woman defended herself. "I don't know what the issue is."
"It's Adam!" Sam cried. "My little brother! I used to change his diapers when I was a kid! He pestered me and tormented me every day from his first birthday on. It's just…you never expect your best friend to tell you she has a crush on your brother."
"Well he's kind of cute," Lindsay said. 'He's a sweetheart and he's insanely intelligent and he's got that whole rambling, dorkiness to him that I find attractive."
"Oh my God…" Sam clasped a hand to her stomach and collapsed back against the pillows. "My tummy hurts now. My chest is burning. I'm going to need some time to recuperate."
Lindsay elbowed her in the side. "I knew you'd laugh about it!"
"I'm sorry! I can't help it! He's my brother! No one wants to hear that stuff about their brother! I mean, it's Adam. That's just…ewww."
You're such a bitch," Lindsay huffed.
"Yes…yes I am," Sam admitted. "But face it, Bumpkin. You wouldn't have me any other way."
"Oh I don't know about that," Lindsay said with a sigh, as she stretched out on the bed once again. "Sweet and bubbly would be a welcome change. Please tell me that you at least changed these sheets before I lied down on the bed. I mean, I know what you and Flack are like. And considering this morning you had on them Lucky Charms undies and bra, I can imagine this bed was put to good use."
"It was," Sam told her. "But don't worry. I changed the sheets before Donnie and I left the house. Had we left them on…" she gave a grimace and a dramatic shudder. "How goes things in the Twilight Zone?" she asked, reaching out to lay a hand on her friend's barely there baby bump.
The doctor had confirmed, a month nearly to the date, through an ultrasound a week after the home test came back positive, that Lindsay was just shy of two and a half months. Meaning she'd be just shy of nine months on her wedding day. DL, as Flack called them, were now immersed in a lengthy, time consuming process of cancelling those plans and going with something considerably smaller. A lot smaller.
"Well now that my barfing is somewhat under control, I have to say that things aren't half bad," Lindsay replied. "Except for the fact that all my pants are starting to get tight on me."
"Hey, you're pregnant. Which gives you all the reason in the world to be getting fat. At least you have an excuse for it. An incredible, magical, miraculous excuse at that. Me? All my pants are getting tight and I have no excuse. Well…" she glanced at that junk food spread out around them. "…I mean I do have an excuse. I just love food too much. Especially comfort food."
"Well at least you're not afraid to eat. You wouldn't want to a stick person would you? And I don't exactly see Flack complaining that you're not a size zero."
"Oh I'm a size zero," Sam laughed. "If you ignore the one that goes IN FRONT of that zero."
Lindsay shook her head. "You're way too hard on yourself. Your man adores you the way you are. He finds you beautiful and incredibly sexy. If he didn't, it would be a lot easier to pry you two out of the bedroom."
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe we're just incessantly horny and it wouldn't matter to either of us how ugly the other is? That it's just all about getting our rocks off?"
Lindsay stared pointedly at her.
"|Okay…so maybe that's not what it's all about. Maybe we do find each other outrageously sexy. I know I can take one look at him in a wife beater and go completely weak in the knees. And never mind what he looks like with his hair still damp and water glistening on his body after he steps out of the shower and he comes in the room with just a towel around his waist…" she sighed in contentment. "Is it getting hot in here or is it me?"
"It's you," Lindsay laughed. "Definitely you."
"You're lucky you know," Sam said quietly, her voice drastically changing as she removed her hand from Lindsay's stomach. She placed her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. "You and Danny…you've achieved the miracle of life. And that's just amazing. I'm really happy for you guys. Even if I do have a weird way of showing it."
"Sammie, I know you're happy for us. You don't have to express it in words. I just know. But…" Lindsay looked over at her, then frowned at the sight of tears sparkling in her best friend's eyes. "Sammie, sweetie, I know you're worried that it's never going to happen to you. Having a baby. But the doctor never said it was impossible. Just that it would be difficult. And it's not that you can't conceive. It's just that…"
"I might never be able to carry to term," Sam concluded. "I know how it is, Linds. It's my body, remember? I know how things work."
"You can get a surrogate. Your egg, Flack's sperm. A surrogate will carry a baby to term. And if you don't like that idea you can adopt. There's nothing wrong with either of those choices."
"I know…it's just that…he deserves to have his own children. He wants to have kids. Badly. And Donnie will be a great dad."
"He will. And he'll be a great dad to your kids. Regardless of how you have them. I mean, he's not going to leave you because you can't carry to term."
"Men have left women for a lot less," Sam pointed out.
"Yeah…asshole men that obviously never loved their women to begin with. Flack's not going anywhere. He told you that already, didn't he? About sticking around even if you couldn't have your own kids. Trust me, Sammie. He wasn't lying. Flack doesn't bullshit and you know that."
Sam nodded and wiped at her eyes. "God I hate being like this," she whispered. "Up one minute, down the next. I feel…insane."
"It's okay," Lindsay assured her, her voice tender and compassionate. "We'll get your moods under control. Flack, myself, Danny…well maybe not Danny because he just doesn't do well with stuff like this. But Flack and I will help you get a handle on this. We're not going to tell anyone. It's between the four of us. No one at work will know. You'll go in every day and get on with the job as if nothing happened tonight. Okay?"
She nodded again.
"Have you always been like this or…?"
"When I was seventeen my step father noticed I was 'troubled'," she made air quotes around the last word. "He noticed the extreme differences in my moods and the sudden bursts of rage I'd have. Adam…well he was too caught up in his own things to really care and my mom? She's always been oblivious when it comes to me. She's always been about Adam. She doesn't care if I'm alive or dead. She never has."
Lindsay reached out and pushed a piece of hair behind Sam's ear. "You know that's not true."
"So Sarge…he got me into a shrink. Who then proceeded to diagnose me with clinical depression and prescribed me all kinds of meds. I saw her on a regular basis until I went away to college."
"And then?"
"Then I went off the meds. I had a few really bad moments. Manic episodes I guess some would call them. I dealt with it on my own and started taking Saint John's Wort so I wouldn't have to go on prescription drugs. Once I felt that I was okay, I stopped the supplements too. I had just met Zack. He was insanely handsome and charming. Rugged. Sexy. The whole nine. I was on top of the world. I had this incredible guy who loved me and only me. I was finally happy. Zack…" she sighed heavily. "Zack wasn't always the way he is now. He was patient and loving. And once I screwed up and lost the baby and the doctors said I might not be able to ever carry to term, he changed. It's like something inside him snapped. I made him the way he is now."
Lindsay bolted up into a sitting position. "No!" she snapped angrily. "You didn't! You did nothing! It is not your fault that he's certifiably insane. It's horrible that you lost the baby, Sam. And it's even more horrible to think you may never have your own, but Jesus Christ girl! Things could be so much worse! It's not the end of the world and you did not deserve what he did to you!"
"If I'd just…"
"You are so not defending him to me!" Lindsay argued. "You are not lying in this bed, a bed you share with a man both of us know will one day be your husband, and defend that prick Zack! You didn't deserve what he did! And Flack doesn't deserve you defending Zack while in his bed!"
Sam blinked. Taken back by the rage in her best friend's voice. And hurt by the harsh word. Bravely holding back tears, she sat up and then climbed out of bed. "I think you and Danny should leave," she said calmly.
"Nope," Lindsay shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "We're not going anywhere. We promised Flack we'd watch over you and that's what we're going to do. You can get nasty all you want. It doesn't bother me in the slightest. I have dealt with my mother for years with her depression and her moods. I can deal with you. So bring it. I guarantee you'll break first."
"You're just so goddamn perfect!" Sam spat. "Lindsay Monroe the golden girl. The little angel of the lab. She never does anything wrong. Ever. She's never mean or bitchy or offhand. To anyone. She's perfect and everyone thinks so. Lindsay's the princess and Sam Ross is the wicked witch. The fucking basket case!"
Lindsay calmly helped herself to a cookie. Unfazed by her friend's behaviour. Or her words. Knowing that it wasn't the 'real' Sam talking. This was the despondent, dark, on edge Sam. The anxious, paranoid, terrified little girl. Not the confident, carefree and incredible young woman she was in her normal state of mind. The outbursts were to be expected. And Lindsay refused to bend. She was sticking in to the bitter end.
"Everybody just loves you!" Sam continued, pacing the bedroom. "Everybody! It doesn't matter how many times you've fucked up! How many times you've brought personal shit into the work place! I mean, you left evidence out for fuck sakes and never caught grief! I walk down the wrong side of the hall or wear the wrong colour underwear to work and people are on my ass!"
Lindsay pulled about her Oreo and used her tongue to scoop up the white icing. "Are you finished yet?" she asked.
Fuming, Sam picked up the plastic tumbler and tossed it across the room. Sending chocolate milk splattering against the back of the door and all over the hard wood floor before the cup clattered to the ground. "Get the fuck out of my apartment!" she screamed, then stomped off and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Lindsay shrugged at her friend's behaviour. "I'll still be here when you come out of there!" she yelled. Then glanced over at the bedroom door as it clicked open.
"Everything okay?" Danny asked, poking his head into the room. "I heard some yelling."
Lindsay smiled brightly. "Everything's good. Sam's in a mood. She locked herself in the bathroom."
Danny's eyes widened as he looked towards the room in question.
"Don't worry," his fiancee said cheerfully. "Flack confiscated all dangerous objects before he left. Both the medicine cabinet and under the sink are empty. So unless she's planning on using her own clothes to hang herself on the shower curtain rod, the only thing she's doing in there is either sitting on the toilet or in the tub, crying and licking her wounds. She's fine."
"How long do you think she'll be in there?" Danny asked as he stepped into the room.
Lindsay shrugged. "She could stay in there all night. Who knows? She does that and Flack can worry about getting her out of there."
Danny took a step towards the bathroom.
"Leave her alone!" Lindsay hissed. "Just leave her!"
"She can't be acting like this!" he argued. "Locking herself in the john, flipping out on you! You're pregnant for Christsakes and she's…"
"She's nothing!" she spat. "I've got it under control! Just…just get the hell out Danny!"
He held up his hands in self defence and retreated to the bedroom door. "Do me a favour?" he asked. "Call me in here if she gives you grief. I'll straighten crazy girl out right quick."
"Do me a favour!" Lindsay tossed a pillow at him. "Two favours! One, get out of here! Two, turn on your goddamn sensitivity chip! Seriously Danny! Just back off!"
"Fine…fine…" he mumbled. "Still don't know why we're doing this," he grumbled as he stepped out of the room.
"Because we love Sam and Flack. They're our friends! And friends put up with shit and hold each other up when they need it! And Sam needs it!"
Danny simply nodded and closed the door behind him.
"Men," Lindsay huffed and settled herself back against her pillows once more.
Sam would do the same thing for me, she thought. She'd walk through hell for me. Defend me to the death. Whether I appreciated it or not.
That's just what friends do.
An hour after picking the older man up, Flack found himself sitting across his girlfriend's step father on a dimly lit side patio at a small, quiet Irish pub three blocks from his own parents' home. The first place they'd stopped at - a large, highly populated sports bar complete with booming music, big screen televisions that showed ESPN highlights and games themselves, walls of dart boards and a room solely dedicated to shooting pool- had been off limits. Not just because of the noisy atmosphere, but the fact Flack had been quick to notice his old man's car in the parking lot. And on that night, the old man was the last person he wanted to deal with.
O'Toole's was a dump. There was no other way to describe it. The wooden floors were horrifically scuffed -something that was expertly hidden underneath layers of saw dust, peanut shells and puddles of spilt beer- and bowed in the middle aisle of the bar. The green leather booths were stained and tattered and the wood tables scratched and rickety. There'd been no question in Flack's mind to take up the waitress' offer of 'trying out the patio'. He wasn't taking the risk of leading Sarge into a place that should be condemned, and having his future father in law think he was some bum for hanging out in an establishment like that.
They placed an order for a pitcher of beer and two glasses. Flack longed to get tanked. For a pitcher or two -or three- just to call his own. But not only was he driving, but he wanted to be able to walk back into his apartment sober. To deal with things with a somewhat clear head.
He reached for the pack of cigarettes and lighter he'd grabbed from the glove compartment in his SUV upon parking the car and had tossed on the table the moment they'd gone to sit down. Opening the pack, he offered it to the older man sitting across from him. Sarge simply shook his head and then watched, that seemingly permanent frown on his face, as Flack shook out a smoke, placed it between his lips to light it, and inhaled deeply.
"I didn't know you smoked," Sarge commented.
"Been smoking since I was fifteen. I quit five months ago. 'Cause Sammie asked me to. She said she was worried about my health and thought it was a good idea. First time I've ever actually done anything a woman wanted me to do."
"Get used to it," Sarge snorted. "There'll be more of those times as the relationship goes on. It's inevitable kid. Becoming a patsy to them is inevitable. You can fight it all you want, you can deny it to all of your friends. Simple fact of the matter is that once the love grabs a hold of you…" he shook his head. "You're hers. Plain and simple. You'll admit it to no one but yourself. But trust me, resistance is futile."
Flack smirked, then nodded his appreciation at the young waitress that sat the beer and the glasses on the table. "Just so you know," he said, watching as the older man filled the glasses with the beer -tinted with green food colouring- all the way to the brims. "I'm not really good with the whole girlfriend's father thing."
"That's alright," Sarge assured him and took a swig of his beer. "'Cause I'm not really good with the whole little girl's boyfriend thing either."
Flack nodded in understanding. "So what does that mean exactly?" he asked. "Are we good or…"
"We're as good as we can be considering the first time we met you were walking around in nearly just your bare ass just after you got naked and down and dirty with my daughter. You seem like an alright guy. Ladybug seems to be crazy about you. I owe it to her to give you a chance I figure. We've only been in each other's company a couple of times. Little too early to be calling ourselves buddies, kid."
"I just want to make sure that you're not going to break me in half if I so as much look at you the wrong way," Flack said.
"Let's base whether or not I whup your ass into the middle of next week on what you wanted to talk to me about. Now let's make one thing clear. I don't tolerate bullshit. I can smell it from a mile away. So don't even think about bullshitting me. You bullshit me and it's curtains for you. I want honesty. Nothing but. I respect you, you respect me and we won't have any problems. Deal?"
Flack nodded and sipped at his beer.
"And seeing as we're starting out with honesty, let me go first. I got a very interesting phone call today. From Zack."
Flack sighed heavily.
"I don't know how that sumbitch found out I was here in the city and I had no clue he was here working for the goddamn Feds or whatever it is he's doing. But he found me and he's damn lucky he's not pissing out a tube and shitting into a bag for the rest of his life. He told me that some guys caught up to him on the street. Beat the piss out of him. Spent two weeks nearly in the hospital. That true?"
Flack shrugged.
"What did I just tell you about bullshit, kid? I know that Zack paid you a visit. He told me. He also told me that you and Samantha showed up at the hospital to see him after it all went down. That he all but told her he knew that the two of you had something to do with it. Don't fuck with me, son. You'll lose."
Flack inhaled deeply on his smoke. "Zack showed up at my desk and talked a whole lot of shit about Sam. Spewed a lot of threats. Then he showed up at her place and tried to pull some shit with her. She put him in his place. I don't know who beat him up. It's just a sheer coincidence that it happened after all that went down. But if I did know who it was, trust me, I'd be thanking him. And buying HIM a beer."
Sarge stared long and hard at the younger man. Then, apparently satisfied with the explanation, gave a curt nod and gulped back some beer.
"My turn for some honesty?" Flack asked. "Before we get into this thing with Sammie, I have a question of my own."
"By all means," the older man said.
"How in the hell did Zack ever get away with beating on her and treating her like he did? How in the hell did you people just sit back and let that happen? You knew what he was doing to her and not one of you did anything about it. Why? Why'd you just sit back and let that all go down? Let your baby girl get treated like that?"
Sarge contemplated his answer. "First off, no one just sat back and let it happen. We took her in numerous times. She'd show up at our doorstep black and blue and we'd take her in a few days. We'd get her in to talk to therapists and counsellors at this abused women's place in town. Hell, I physically took her to a shelter once to hide her away from that little fucker. She was there for nearly a month. She didn't leave the front doors. Not to see us, not to work. Nothing. And just when we thought she'd got that asshole out of her system, that she'd finally do better with her life, you know what she did?"
Flack shook his head.
"She went back to him. Right back to him. Each and every time we got her away, she went right back. You can't help someone that won't help themselves. And we tried. Goddamnit we tried. You can only beg and plead so much, you know? What was I supposed to do? Chain her up in the basement? You don't know what it was like going through that with her. So don't sit here, Mr Big City cop, and act like you know the whole deal. You know shit."
"I know I wouldn't have sat back and let some asshole commit my daughter. I know that I wouldn't have let her go back to him. And I know I would have felt like complete and utter shit if the cops had have called me one night and told me she was dead."
"Don't pull that kind of shit with me. Don't dump guilt on me because you're having relationship issues with her and don't know how to deal with it. She got away from him and that's the most important part. She got away finally and what happens? He finds her. Not only finds her but weasels his way back into her life."
Flack shook his head. "He hasn't weaseled his way into shit. He's not going to come near her again. He even so as much breathes her name and ten years from now, someone out fishing on the East River will land one of the many parts the asshole will be cut up into. I may not have known who kicked the shit out of Zack, but I know tons of people who would end him in a heartbeat. I know more than you think. I've seen girls dead in dumpsters beaten black and blue. 'Cause they couldn't get away. 'Cause their families didn't try hard enough to help them. I've seen a lot, Clint. So don't sit here and treat me like some snot nosed punk ass kid that hasn't."
Silence fell on the table. Flack finished his cigarette and butted it out and dropped it into the ashtray in the middle of the table.
"Look, I'm not here to play who has the biggest balls," he said. "I'm here for one thing and one thing only. Samantha. She's the only thing that matters to me. Her and getting her the help that she needs. Now I already swallowed my pride by coming to you. I admitted I don't know how to deal with her and I asked you for help. Ask me, it takes a man to admit he can't deal with something. And you know what? I don't tolerate bullshit either, Clint. Never have, never will. I'm not fucking around here. Your daughter? She's my everything. And I want her to get better. Now show me that you love her and respect her and you want the same thing. If not, say the word and I'll leave. You don't care enough to help me out, that's fine. Just don't bother coming around her and handing out this load of shit to her that I wasn't willing to let you help."
Sarge's eyes narrowed. "You got a lot of guts, kid. Talking to me like that."
"Yeah? Well you didn't have to grow up with my old man. I learned a long time ago to take shit from no one. So what's it going to be? You going to just sit back with your head up your ass and ignore this? Or are you going to cut me and your daughter some slack?"
The older man sighed heavily and leaning forward in his chair, ran the palms of his hands against the sides of his glass.
Flack took another smoke from the pack and lit it. Then waited patiently for some kind of reaction from across the table.
"This is going to take more than just one pitcher of beer," Sarge finally said. "And more than a couple of hours."
"For Sam I got a lot of hours," Flack told him.
Hell, he thought. For her, I have an entire lifetime.
Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all the lurkers! I just hope that you are all enjoying this! Keep reading, and I'll keep churning out the chapters. So please R and R!
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