racefh853629
Pathologist
Okay, so after watching "Outside Man" earlier, Danny's end quote got me thinking (that's the italicized text). So, I bring you this story. I don't own CSI:NY, CBS, or any other known entity. The story takes place after "Charge of this Post."
*~*~*~*
Sinking In
“I can't wrap my head around it, Mac. You get up, you go to work, see the people that you know, you talk, you laugh. You're living your life, then suddenly, boom. It's just over. Just like that. And you never even saw it coming.”
He squatted at the grave, twirling the flower in his hand as the dew settled onto the grass around him in the twilight. She wasn’t the type of girl who lived for flowers or anything, but he wasn’t sure what else to bring. What would you bring to a grave besides flowers?
Religion dictated other things. Some said bring a stone each time you visit, or a gem, or something of the sort. Or you put one on the headstone for every year the person’s been dead. He couldn’t remember the exact rules anymore.
Funny how he always thought about other things when he was here.
On the one hand, he tended to think about her. Her life, her love, her friendship. The times they spent together. The good cases, the bad cases, and everything in between. The movie nights, the dinners, the beers. The empty afternoons of nothing but mindless chatter. The long nights dedicated to taking care of one another as friends and counselors. They had a deep connection, not on a romantic level, but on a cosmic level.
On the other hand, he didn’t want to think about her. Thinking about her led to thinking about her demise, and everything he missed. Despite the passing of time, it still wasn’t real to him that he wasn’t ever going to hear her voice or laughter again. Wasn’t ever going to feel her smack him after he said something stupid. Wasn’t going to see her walk into the lab.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he missed it.
She had been his best friend since he joined the lab. She was there before him, long before him, but that didn’t matter to either of them. They were fast friends with many things in common, including an easygoing attitude that could be pushed quickly to anger should the situation warrant it.
She was almost like a sister to him, after he got over his initial crush on her. They were best friends and always there for each other. They had a continuous, playful banter, but always had each other’s back should any problem arise.
She was a tough girl, he had to give her that.
That was one of the many things he had come to miss about working with her. Ever since she got fired, the temperament in the lab had changed. A new girl had come in, and some days, it seemed like the former had never been there. After five, almost six, years of servitude to the NYPD, it seemed like she no longer existed.
He knew in his heart that wasn’t true, though.
The entire team remembered working with her. Remembered her tenacity on a case. The way she intimidated suspects not only with her beauty, but with her brains. She was strong, beautiful, and intelligent. It was the combination that intimidated many of her boyfriends.
Although, he felt the intimidation also came from the gun, the badge, and the handcuffs.
She was the type of girl that could roll with the guys and hang with the girls. She cared enough about fashion to know the trends, and had no problem going to the bar to hang out and watch the game. Another dangerous combination in a girl, and something he loved a lot about her.
If they hadn’t been coworkers, maybe they could’ve had something happen. But, as it were, they were worlds apart romantically, so maybe nothing would’ve happened anyway. It was something he never dwelled on, though, because having her as a best friend and sister was a lot better than having her in his bed.
He missed her more and more with each growing day. She hadn’t been gone very long, but his heart hurt for the loss of her in his life. She was that kind of person. The kind where she left the room, and you wanted her to come back. She was a sweetheart and a fun person, and he missed her so much. Especially with everything else going on.
He heard the grass crunch behind him, and he didn’t move. He wasn’t the type to let anyone see him crying, even in the middle of a cemetery. And as the tears rolled down his cheeks, he remained squatted in front of her headstone, not moving from his spot.
“I thought I might find you here,” the voice said. It was a voice he knew very well, heard every day for many years.
“You found me,” he replied quietly, his voice choked with tears. The person behind him put their hand on his shoulder. “How do you do it, Mac?” He looked up at his supervisor, who had seen him cry before, hoping for an answer.
“Do what, Danny?” Danny stood up, taking a vulnerably defensive stance as Mac let go of his shoulder.
“Get through the day.”
It was a simple statement, and the fact that Danny said it didn’t catch Mac off guard. He had seen Danny struggling with her death more than the others, but then again, no one was as close to her as Danny was. Mac pondered the question before giving a response.
“I wasn’t as close to her as you were,” he said simply. Danny looked at Mac with tears rolling down his cheeks.
“So?” Danny asked. “She was your employee, your friend. You guys worked side by side for years. You tellin’ me this don’t bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me, Danny. It just doesn’t hit me the way it hits you. It’s a personal thing, based on relationships to…”
“Mac, I know about grieving, okay? I know all that stuff you’re trying to tell me. But…” The younger man sighed, half out of anger and half out of despair.
“What is it that you want to hear, Danny?” Mac asked softly. Danny hesitated.
“I don’t know,” he replied, defeated. Getting angry with Mac wasn’t going to make anything better. He knew that. But the past few weeks had been hell on him, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. He wasn’t sure he could do this anymore. “Mac, I… I just don’t know.”
“You’re going through hell right now, and I understand that.” Danny didn’t say anything, choosing to look at the ground as Mac buried his hands in his pockets. “To have as much on your plate as you do right now, and for you to still be functioning, you should be proud of that.”
“I’m not,” Danny said softly, stuffing his hands into his pockets as the evening grew colder. Mac tilted his head at the statement, and Danny continued to stare at the ground. “I can’t keep doin’ this, Mac. I can’t.”
“What can I do to help?” Mac asked. Danny looked up at him, seeing the concern and sincerity in his boss’s eyes.
“I don’t know.” Danny looked back down at the ground, not wanting to seem as vulnerable as he was. Mac said nothing, not knowing what else to do. In the four years the two men had worked together, Mac had never seen Danny like this.
Ever since Louie was hospitalized, Danny had been spiraling down a destructive path. Not in the sense that he was getting into drugs or alcohol, but that he was more withdrawn, quiet, and not so easy to joke around with.
And then, there was Aiden’s murder.
Danny had taken it the hardest out of everyone on the team. Mac understood that Aiden had been more of family to Danny than his own relatives, and that was something Danny cherished deeply. With her gone, it was like he had lost a sister.
And now, Flack was in the hospital, fighting for his life after a bomb had exploded.
Mac knew the last thing he should do is let Danny be alone right now, but he didn’t know what to say. In a matter of weeks, his young employee lost his best friend, had his brother get put into a coma, and had his other best friend almost get killed. And, out of all of those, Flack would be the only one to recover.
“Why?” Danny asked suddenly. Mac looked over as Danny turned to face him, tears streaming down his face. “Why them? Why’d this have to happen? What did they do to deserve this? Why wasn’t it me?”
The last question threw Mac for a loop, but also caused him to draw the young man against him in a hug. Danny didn’t return it, much like he hadn’t a few weeks ago, but sobbed.
“I, uh, I don’t have an answer for you,” Mac said hesitantly. In all the time Danny had known Mac, the older man had never been hesitant. But, then again, Danny had never asked him a question that couldn’t be answered.
And there were no answers for Danny’s questions. Neither him nor Mac could ever reason why these things had happened. Why Louie was practically beaten to death for trying to do the right thing and save his brother. Why Aiden had been murdered by DJ Pratt when she had been trying to bring him to justice. Why Flack had been blown up as a part of some paranoid schizophrenic’s display.
The truth was, there wasn’t a reason. For once, this was something that couldn’t be explained. There was no rhyme or reason. And that bothered Danny just as much as being in this situation.
He pulled himself away from Mac, taking his hand out to wipe away his tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, sniffling.
“It’s okay,” Mac replied, matching Danny’s tone.
“I’ll be okay. I swear.” Mac nodded. That was the Danny he was used to, the one that stonewalled himself off from the world so that no one knew what was going on. Mac sighed softly.
“You know, Danny, it’s okay if you’re not.” Danny looked at him, shaking his head.
“No, it’s not. It’s a sign of weakness.” That was another thing Mac had gotten used to- Danny stating that he had to be tough. Something that was beaten into him as a kid, no doubt, which explained Danny’s removal from people.
Mac had seen throughout the years that Danny had trust issues. He rarely let anyone see him break down, as Mac had now seen only twice in four years. Danny was the type of person to put aside everything going on with him to make someone around him feel better. He refused to put himself in a vulnerable position in front of anyone. And, given the childhood that Mac deduced Danny had, it made sense that he was incapable of hugging someone back while crying on their shoulder. It was too much of a weakness, in Danny’s book.
Mac knew better than to try to respond or correct that thought. It would just ensure an argument that neither gentleman really needed right now. Danny was at the end of his rope with everything going on, and Mac was worried about Flack and Danny. Though assured many times that Flack would make a full recovery, he was still concerned about the young detective.
However, Flack was in a hospital getting the treatment he needed. Danny was standing here, in the graveyard, in the dark, wondering why life had dealt him the hand it did. The young CSI was in the deepest hole Mac had ever seen him in, and he needed a ladder.
“I hate that she suffered,” Danny said suddenly. Mac looked over at him again, finding Danny staring at the headstone, hands stuffed deep into his pockets as a cold gust of wind whipped through the cemetery. “Beaten to death. Horrible way to go. Burned, too, beyond that.”
Mac continued to stay silent, figuring Danny needed to work out whatever was going through his head. But as suddenly as he had started talking, Danny fell silent once again.
“She was a fighter,” Mac said softly, hoping to bait him to speak again. Danny nodded. “She didn’t go down easy.”
“But she knew he was gonna kill her. Knew she wasn’t going to make it out alive.”
“But she still managed to make sure we caught him.” Danny half-smirked at the thought.
“Yeah, she did that,” he said. The pair fell silent again, staring at the headstone in front of them. After a moment, Danny spoke again. “How’s Flack doing?”
“Doctors say he should be waking up soon,” Mac said. Danny looked over at him.
“On the real?”
‘Yeah.”
“That’s good. That’s, uh, that’s good.”
“Flack’s gonna be fine, Danny.”
“Thank God for that.” Danny squatted down, tracing his finger along her name etched in the stone. “That makes one of them, at least.”
Mac was unsure how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet. He had learned through previous experiences that it was better to just sit back and listen to someone in a deep depression than try to correct their thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered. Mac didn’t respond again, unsure this time if Danny was even talking to him. “This is my fault.”
“How so?” Mac asked after a moment.
“I screwed up, and Louie had to try to jump in and save me. And that got him pretty much killed. And, I knew Aiden was after Pratt. And I didn’t stop her.”
“Do you think that if you had tried to stop her, she would’ve listened to you?” Danny paused, thinking.
“Probably not,” he realized with a slight chuckle.
“None of this is your fault, Danny,” Mac said.
“Then why do I feel like it is?”
“Bargaining.”
“What?”
“The five stages of grieving. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. It’s a continuum, meaning one day you could be depressed, the next angry, and so on.”
“Yeah.”
“You feeling guilty is you bargaining.” Danny sighed, nodding. Mac fell silent after his explanation.
“I miss her,” Danny whispered again, so soft his voice was almost inaudible.
“Me too,” Mac replied quietly.
“It’s just starting to hit me. To really sink in. She’s gone, Mac, and she’s not coming back.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Danny looked up at Mac, finding the older man staring intently at the headstone. Danny stood up, turning to Mac.
“Maybe, uh, maybe we should go,” Danny said softly. Mac looked up.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“Go visit Flack, see if he’s awake.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Danny started to walk away, and Mac followed suit before Danny stopped and turned around.
“Good bye, Aiden,” Danny said softly. Mac watched as the young man turned forward again and began to walk out. He turned back to the headstone, looking at it one last time.
“Help him, Aiden,” Mac said softly. “He needs you now more than ever.” He turned back around to find Danny waiting for him at the entrance. The older CSI walked away, meeting up with Danny at the entrance to head to the hospital. Flack needed their support now. The rest could wait.
The End.
*~*~*~*
Sinking In
“I can't wrap my head around it, Mac. You get up, you go to work, see the people that you know, you talk, you laugh. You're living your life, then suddenly, boom. It's just over. Just like that. And you never even saw it coming.”
He squatted at the grave, twirling the flower in his hand as the dew settled onto the grass around him in the twilight. She wasn’t the type of girl who lived for flowers or anything, but he wasn’t sure what else to bring. What would you bring to a grave besides flowers?
Religion dictated other things. Some said bring a stone each time you visit, or a gem, or something of the sort. Or you put one on the headstone for every year the person’s been dead. He couldn’t remember the exact rules anymore.
Funny how he always thought about other things when he was here.
On the one hand, he tended to think about her. Her life, her love, her friendship. The times they spent together. The good cases, the bad cases, and everything in between. The movie nights, the dinners, the beers. The empty afternoons of nothing but mindless chatter. The long nights dedicated to taking care of one another as friends and counselors. They had a deep connection, not on a romantic level, but on a cosmic level.
On the other hand, he didn’t want to think about her. Thinking about her led to thinking about her demise, and everything he missed. Despite the passing of time, it still wasn’t real to him that he wasn’t ever going to hear her voice or laughter again. Wasn’t ever going to feel her smack him after he said something stupid. Wasn’t going to see her walk into the lab.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he missed it.
She had been his best friend since he joined the lab. She was there before him, long before him, but that didn’t matter to either of them. They were fast friends with many things in common, including an easygoing attitude that could be pushed quickly to anger should the situation warrant it.
She was almost like a sister to him, after he got over his initial crush on her. They were best friends and always there for each other. They had a continuous, playful banter, but always had each other’s back should any problem arise.
She was a tough girl, he had to give her that.
That was one of the many things he had come to miss about working with her. Ever since she got fired, the temperament in the lab had changed. A new girl had come in, and some days, it seemed like the former had never been there. After five, almost six, years of servitude to the NYPD, it seemed like she no longer existed.
He knew in his heart that wasn’t true, though.
The entire team remembered working with her. Remembered her tenacity on a case. The way she intimidated suspects not only with her beauty, but with her brains. She was strong, beautiful, and intelligent. It was the combination that intimidated many of her boyfriends.
Although, he felt the intimidation also came from the gun, the badge, and the handcuffs.
She was the type of girl that could roll with the guys and hang with the girls. She cared enough about fashion to know the trends, and had no problem going to the bar to hang out and watch the game. Another dangerous combination in a girl, and something he loved a lot about her.
If they hadn’t been coworkers, maybe they could’ve had something happen. But, as it were, they were worlds apart romantically, so maybe nothing would’ve happened anyway. It was something he never dwelled on, though, because having her as a best friend and sister was a lot better than having her in his bed.
He missed her more and more with each growing day. She hadn’t been gone very long, but his heart hurt for the loss of her in his life. She was that kind of person. The kind where she left the room, and you wanted her to come back. She was a sweetheart and a fun person, and he missed her so much. Especially with everything else going on.
He heard the grass crunch behind him, and he didn’t move. He wasn’t the type to let anyone see him crying, even in the middle of a cemetery. And as the tears rolled down his cheeks, he remained squatted in front of her headstone, not moving from his spot.
“I thought I might find you here,” the voice said. It was a voice he knew very well, heard every day for many years.
“You found me,” he replied quietly, his voice choked with tears. The person behind him put their hand on his shoulder. “How do you do it, Mac?” He looked up at his supervisor, who had seen him cry before, hoping for an answer.
“Do what, Danny?” Danny stood up, taking a vulnerably defensive stance as Mac let go of his shoulder.
“Get through the day.”
It was a simple statement, and the fact that Danny said it didn’t catch Mac off guard. He had seen Danny struggling with her death more than the others, but then again, no one was as close to her as Danny was. Mac pondered the question before giving a response.
“I wasn’t as close to her as you were,” he said simply. Danny looked at Mac with tears rolling down his cheeks.
“So?” Danny asked. “She was your employee, your friend. You guys worked side by side for years. You tellin’ me this don’t bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me, Danny. It just doesn’t hit me the way it hits you. It’s a personal thing, based on relationships to…”
“Mac, I know about grieving, okay? I know all that stuff you’re trying to tell me. But…” The younger man sighed, half out of anger and half out of despair.
“What is it that you want to hear, Danny?” Mac asked softly. Danny hesitated.
“I don’t know,” he replied, defeated. Getting angry with Mac wasn’t going to make anything better. He knew that. But the past few weeks had been hell on him, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. He wasn’t sure he could do this anymore. “Mac, I… I just don’t know.”
“You’re going through hell right now, and I understand that.” Danny didn’t say anything, choosing to look at the ground as Mac buried his hands in his pockets. “To have as much on your plate as you do right now, and for you to still be functioning, you should be proud of that.”
“I’m not,” Danny said softly, stuffing his hands into his pockets as the evening grew colder. Mac tilted his head at the statement, and Danny continued to stare at the ground. “I can’t keep doin’ this, Mac. I can’t.”
“What can I do to help?” Mac asked. Danny looked up at him, seeing the concern and sincerity in his boss’s eyes.
“I don’t know.” Danny looked back down at the ground, not wanting to seem as vulnerable as he was. Mac said nothing, not knowing what else to do. In the four years the two men had worked together, Mac had never seen Danny like this.
Ever since Louie was hospitalized, Danny had been spiraling down a destructive path. Not in the sense that he was getting into drugs or alcohol, but that he was more withdrawn, quiet, and not so easy to joke around with.
And then, there was Aiden’s murder.
Danny had taken it the hardest out of everyone on the team. Mac understood that Aiden had been more of family to Danny than his own relatives, and that was something Danny cherished deeply. With her gone, it was like he had lost a sister.
And now, Flack was in the hospital, fighting for his life after a bomb had exploded.
Mac knew the last thing he should do is let Danny be alone right now, but he didn’t know what to say. In a matter of weeks, his young employee lost his best friend, had his brother get put into a coma, and had his other best friend almost get killed. And, out of all of those, Flack would be the only one to recover.
“Why?” Danny asked suddenly. Mac looked over as Danny turned to face him, tears streaming down his face. “Why them? Why’d this have to happen? What did they do to deserve this? Why wasn’t it me?”
The last question threw Mac for a loop, but also caused him to draw the young man against him in a hug. Danny didn’t return it, much like he hadn’t a few weeks ago, but sobbed.
“I, uh, I don’t have an answer for you,” Mac said hesitantly. In all the time Danny had known Mac, the older man had never been hesitant. But, then again, Danny had never asked him a question that couldn’t be answered.
And there were no answers for Danny’s questions. Neither him nor Mac could ever reason why these things had happened. Why Louie was practically beaten to death for trying to do the right thing and save his brother. Why Aiden had been murdered by DJ Pratt when she had been trying to bring him to justice. Why Flack had been blown up as a part of some paranoid schizophrenic’s display.
The truth was, there wasn’t a reason. For once, this was something that couldn’t be explained. There was no rhyme or reason. And that bothered Danny just as much as being in this situation.
He pulled himself away from Mac, taking his hand out to wipe away his tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, sniffling.
“It’s okay,” Mac replied, matching Danny’s tone.
“I’ll be okay. I swear.” Mac nodded. That was the Danny he was used to, the one that stonewalled himself off from the world so that no one knew what was going on. Mac sighed softly.
“You know, Danny, it’s okay if you’re not.” Danny looked at him, shaking his head.
“No, it’s not. It’s a sign of weakness.” That was another thing Mac had gotten used to- Danny stating that he had to be tough. Something that was beaten into him as a kid, no doubt, which explained Danny’s removal from people.
Mac had seen throughout the years that Danny had trust issues. He rarely let anyone see him break down, as Mac had now seen only twice in four years. Danny was the type of person to put aside everything going on with him to make someone around him feel better. He refused to put himself in a vulnerable position in front of anyone. And, given the childhood that Mac deduced Danny had, it made sense that he was incapable of hugging someone back while crying on their shoulder. It was too much of a weakness, in Danny’s book.
Mac knew better than to try to respond or correct that thought. It would just ensure an argument that neither gentleman really needed right now. Danny was at the end of his rope with everything going on, and Mac was worried about Flack and Danny. Though assured many times that Flack would make a full recovery, he was still concerned about the young detective.
However, Flack was in a hospital getting the treatment he needed. Danny was standing here, in the graveyard, in the dark, wondering why life had dealt him the hand it did. The young CSI was in the deepest hole Mac had ever seen him in, and he needed a ladder.
“I hate that she suffered,” Danny said suddenly. Mac looked over at him again, finding Danny staring at the headstone, hands stuffed deep into his pockets as a cold gust of wind whipped through the cemetery. “Beaten to death. Horrible way to go. Burned, too, beyond that.”
Mac continued to stay silent, figuring Danny needed to work out whatever was going through his head. But as suddenly as he had started talking, Danny fell silent once again.
“She was a fighter,” Mac said softly, hoping to bait him to speak again. Danny nodded. “She didn’t go down easy.”
“But she knew he was gonna kill her. Knew she wasn’t going to make it out alive.”
“But she still managed to make sure we caught him.” Danny half-smirked at the thought.
“Yeah, she did that,” he said. The pair fell silent again, staring at the headstone in front of them. After a moment, Danny spoke again. “How’s Flack doing?”
“Doctors say he should be waking up soon,” Mac said. Danny looked over at him.
“On the real?”
‘Yeah.”
“That’s good. That’s, uh, that’s good.”
“Flack’s gonna be fine, Danny.”
“Thank God for that.” Danny squatted down, tracing his finger along her name etched in the stone. “That makes one of them, at least.”
Mac was unsure how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet. He had learned through previous experiences that it was better to just sit back and listen to someone in a deep depression than try to correct their thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered. Mac didn’t respond again, unsure this time if Danny was even talking to him. “This is my fault.”
“How so?” Mac asked after a moment.
“I screwed up, and Louie had to try to jump in and save me. And that got him pretty much killed. And, I knew Aiden was after Pratt. And I didn’t stop her.”
“Do you think that if you had tried to stop her, she would’ve listened to you?” Danny paused, thinking.
“Probably not,” he realized with a slight chuckle.
“None of this is your fault, Danny,” Mac said.
“Then why do I feel like it is?”
“Bargaining.”
“What?”
“The five stages of grieving. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. It’s a continuum, meaning one day you could be depressed, the next angry, and so on.”
“Yeah.”
“You feeling guilty is you bargaining.” Danny sighed, nodding. Mac fell silent after his explanation.
“I miss her,” Danny whispered again, so soft his voice was almost inaudible.
“Me too,” Mac replied quietly.
“It’s just starting to hit me. To really sink in. She’s gone, Mac, and she’s not coming back.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Danny looked up at Mac, finding the older man staring intently at the headstone. Danny stood up, turning to Mac.
“Maybe, uh, maybe we should go,” Danny said softly. Mac looked up.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“Go visit Flack, see if he’s awake.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Danny started to walk away, and Mac followed suit before Danny stopped and turned around.
“Good bye, Aiden,” Danny said softly. Mac watched as the young man turned forward again and began to walk out. He turned back to the headstone, looking at it one last time.
“Help him, Aiden,” Mac said softly. “He needs you now more than ever.” He turned back around to find Danny waiting for him at the entrance. The older CSI walked away, meeting up with Danny at the entrance to head to the hospital. Flack needed their support now. The rest could wait.
The End.
