A/N: Madison, thank you. Your help to make this chapter perfect meant a lot. THANK YOU!

Chapter 26: Where were you when your world has ended?

It was strange how hospital corridors and police precincts almost looked the same. Jess knew it wasn't entirely true, though. She was able to identify every single precinct she had worked in from the tiniest detail; starting from the one in Jersey where she had started off as a uniform officer to the Twelfth in Manhattan when she had met Flack.

In spite of the situation she was in, she couldn't help smiling a little. It was a sad and ironic smile, however. I ended up in Manhattan only because they needed someone to cover while a certain detective was getting better after an explosion, she thought. Shaking her head, trying to curse Don, her dad, her old Captain and even fate. Jess failed miserably; knowing Don had been the best thing ever happened to her in her whole life.

She looked around, sure that no matter what path fate had in store for her, she would never forget these white walls, the greenish linoleum which made doctors' clogs echo oddly, and these hard plastic chairs that were only welcoming to bodies as exhausted as hers. There was a window in front of the chairs. Through the not-so-clean glass she could see another part of the building. She would never forget that either. She tried to recall her own journey to the hospital after the Tillery's shooting, trying to recall any genuine memories. All she could remember was Flack's voice and his arms, holding onto her in the back seat of a patrol car. She closed her eyes, certain she would remember more, but all she saw was the image of the ambulance which had brought them here.. That, and Don's blue lips, coated by blood too bright and vital. Jess had always had faith, so with a heavy sigh and still shut eyes, she started praying in a low murmur that was full of hope.

Stella knew she should keep Danny at bay. She was looking at him while he was pacing in Ginzburg's hospital room like a caged animal. She knew him, knew all too well his irrational and impulsive side, so she knew he was about to explode. She wanted to somehow reel him in, but she couldn't. She felt anesthetized, paralyzed. A part of her was looking for a series of questions to ask Ginzburg but her brain's mechanisms seemed to be out-of-order. She couldn't believe that, just floors above them, one of her closest friends was fighting to survive. She couldn't believe that the huge amount of blood in the warehouse belonged to him. It's been a long time since you started doing this job. You know how it works. And it's not the first time Flack has been hit. This was the thing that hurt her most. Thinking that he had already paid up, in a sense, and that he deserved nothing more than a happy ending. If he couldn't have it, what was going to happen to them all? She sighed, "so, mister Ginzburg, you have no problems in admitting the homicides?"

"They're not real homicides..." he commented with a tired voice. It's been only a short time since he had left the operating room and now he was sporting a stark white bandage across his right shoulder.

"Of course. Killing a person doesn't mean committing a homicide. Fantastic defense speech, you genius!" Danny commented, trying to hold back his anger.

"I gave them a chance. React, and you'll be spared. Otherwise, your weakness will be your curse. I was listening to them, they sounded so hopeless on the phone and I knew what they were going through. They needed someone who could give them the right shock. The first one, Burton, called me the exact day of Corey's death anniversary. It was a sign: I had a mission. I just wanted to help them."

Danny shook his head, "bullshit. You're simply a bloody murderer!"

"Danny!" Stella's warning silenced him. He left the room in a rush, hitting a chair and tipping it over, disappearing into the depths of the hospital. Stella shrugged and went on with the questioning.

Hawkes couldn't take his eyes off the floor. He felt almost terrified. His reaction was making him feel inadequate as both a doctor and police officer at the same time. It wasn't the first time he was handling a bloody scene - and surely it wouldn't been his last one – but in that moment he was like a fearful rookie standing in front of his first gruesome case. In the few seconds before the paramedics slammed the ambulance doors shut, he had stolen a last glance at the body laying on the gurney. Flack - eyes shut, pale skin coated with sweat, bluish lips – had been weakly moving his fingers, as if trying to hold onto something. The only vivid thing had been the two spots merged into a larger one... that large spot of red, living blood, coloring his light shirt a sickening shade. Hawkes knew that if Flack hadn't worn the vest, there wouldn't have been a rush to the hospital, but simply a journey to the morgue. Yet, the blood on the floor, so dark and dense, was robbing him of all hope.

"Sheldon, did you pick up the casings?"

The man jumped and turned to look at his boss. Mac seemed tired, but his well-known determination was shining in his eyes. Determination mixed with anger: he would not allow Ginzburg to escape justice, maybe using a creative trick if needed.

"Yeah, there were a lot of them, bullets too." Except for the two that Flack took away with him.

"I know. Let's be quick, and then you can go to the hospital, if you want."

"You don't?"

Mac didn't answer. He wasn't a doctor, but he had already seen a person near death. Flack had faced lots of things – maybe too many – and he was a fighter for sure, but Mac didn't want to have false hope. In his mind, he could already picture himself going to the precinct, talking to the Captain and then to Flack's parents. He didn't know why but it was a thing that he would want to do, if necessary. I have your back, kid. As you have always had mine. Mac gulped down a painful lump: some things could not be explained well with words.

All things considered, Adam was feeling kind of happy. They had the killer and they were going to get him. It was a thing they had done tons of times. Ross didn't mind staying in the lab, he wasn't a man of action, a super-cop like Flack. He liked staying with his computers, organizing and archiving information they didn't need anymore. Bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music blasting from the earpieces planted in his ears he glanced quickly at his phone and then frowned. Three missed calls from Danny? A shiver ran down his spine. He threw the earbuds down on a table with haste and phoned Danny. Messer answered almost immediately and, while listening to the situation, the lab tech couldn't help thinking at Samantha Flack. He knew he was the one who had to inform her, but he had no idea how. "Danny, what about Sam?"

The other man sighed imagining the new tragedy they had to face, "don't tell her anything right now. When the operation is over, you can call her and give her more precise info. It's useless if she goes to the hospital at the moment, the operation will take a while."

"Okay. Call me as soon as possible." Hanging up, Adam thought that Danny was right. Flack wouldn't like his sister – still so fragile under some aspects – waiting full of worry in a hospital ward. Adam knew that kind of wait would only create terrible scenarios in Sam's mind. Better to tell her only the precise facts.

Lindsay approached Lucy's bed for the hundredth time. The little girl was sleeping peacefully, hugging a stuffed bear Flack had given her. Though she couldn't help but feel a sinking sensation of dread. She still hadn't heard anything about Ginzbutg's arrest and was starting to worry. She knew she should wait for her husband to call her – it was a pact between them – but she was too nervous. She played with the keys of her cell, still unsure, before she finally dialed Danny's number.

"Messer." It was clear he wasn't checking the caller id.

"Danny, it's Linds. Everything okay?" She heard a long, sad sigh, followed by some minutes of silence.

"Shooting. That bastard hit Flack. We're in the hospital, docs are trying to save him."

Lindsay was speechless, "Jess?"

"She's there with me. I'll call you later."

"Okay. I'm sorry, baby." Lindsay hung up and looked at the phone as if she was holding a bomb. She couldn't believe it, his best friend, please, no...

Sid pushed the last body into the drawer. His shift was over and he could go home, but something was holding him back. He decided to sit at his little desk and read his autopsy notes again, just to check that everything was in order. While reading, he suddenly thought of Flack, at the jokes he would make if he knew that the doctor, instead of going home and living, was spending his free time with the dead. Hammerback shook his head, he must be really tired if he could almost hear the detective's cheeky voice. It had been a couple of days since he talked seriously to him, since the first victim's autopsy, and, weirdly, he felt a pang of nostalgia. He closed his eyes, gathering the concentration needed to finish the file.

"Some time ago, he gave me a CD he made for me. I asked him if, under the tough detective exterior, there wasn't some dreamy teenager." Jess's voice sounded sad and empty. She was staring in front of her, her eyes unfocussed.

Danny smiled sadly, holding her shoulder, unsure of what to say.

"He didn't answer and I listened to the CD. All the songs, in the lyrics or in the title, had the word angel. After the fifth song I looked at him: he was sitting on the couch, laughing under his breath, clearly and openly amused," her voice almost broke, "he made my life perfect when I thought it was already the best life I could live. What will I do if..." she covered her eyes with her hands.

Danny said nothing, because there was nothing that could be said. Turning toward the door of the operating room he spotted the surgeon walking in their direction. He stood, followed by Angell. Danny looked the doctor in the eye, trying to find the only answer he needed. He didn't like what he saw, but decided to hope all the same. And to delude himself, if only for few seconds...

Mac's ringing phone disturbed the tense silence of the warehouse. The man glanced quickly at the number and then answered. Hawkes, only a few inches from him, studied his reaction carefully. He didn't worry when he didn't hear him talking – it was Mac, not the over talkative Danny – but he started to feel uneasy when his boss paled slightly, bowing his head. When Taylor closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged, Hawkes shivered deeply, you know what my friend? If it helped to have you back, I wouldn't stress you again with the difference between DNA and RNA.

A/N: I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

Homicide is still illegal, isn't it?

Only one chapter left.