Spoliers for 2x24: Charge Of This Post
Sunday, October 31st, 07:58
It was a Sunday, and for no particular reason, Taylor was in an exceptionally good mood. It was already October – Halloween of all days, and the weather wasn’t showing the fact that it would soon be winter – it was so warm that Taylor was comfortable in a pair of denim shorts and a white camisole. The good mood she was in didn’t waver with the prospect of heading into the paper to work on her column, despite the fact it was a Sunday.
On the Friday just gone, Aiden had had her funeral. And thanks to Aiden, Taylor was finally feeling… better… about her death, despite the inappropriate comments.
It was a Sunday, and for no particular reason, Taylor was in an exceptionally good mood. It was already October – Halloween of all days, and the weather wasn’t showing the fact that it would soon be winter – it was so warm that Taylor was comfortable in a pair of denim shorts and a white camisole. The good mood she was in didn’t waver with the prospect of heading into the paper to work on her column, despite the fact it was a Sunday.
On the Friday just gone, Aiden had had her funeral. And thanks to Aiden, Taylor was finally feeling… better… about her death, despite the inappropriate comments.
Friday, October 29th, 10:17
Taylor paid the taxi driver and got out in front of the small church. The service had already started. She’d been battling with herself to come for so long that by the time she had decided to hail a cab, she knew she was going to be late. She took a moment to straighten out her knee-length skirt before creeping into the building.
There were a large amount of people there and Taylor only recognised a handful of them – those from the lab. She decided against sitting with them. For one, it would have meant creeping down the aisles and drawing attention away from the minister. Instead, she slipped into the last pew, which was unoccupied, like the several rows in front, unnoticed.
It wasn’t until after one of the hymns that Maddy and Aiden turned up.
“Man, I never thought I’d get to see my own funeral,” mused Aiden. She looked fantastic in the white suit, and full of life… despite being dead.
“You’re lucky,” Maddy told her. “I had to miss my funeral. I don’t even know who didn’t turn up. I suppose that’s a good thing, because otherwise I would have haunted their ass.”
“Shhh,” Taylor hushed under her breath.
Aiden rolled her eyes, oblivious to Taylor’s warning glances. “That, my new friend, is an excellent point. Let’s see,” she scanned the church. “Oh,” she exclaimed in pleasant surprise. “There’s a lot more people here then I recognise. That’s nice.” She frowned. “But Mike isn’t here. Man, his apartment is going to get a few shaking doors tonight.”
Thankfully for Taylor, there was another hymn, and it covered her voice. “Seriously guys, there’s a time and a place.”
Maddy laughed. “When is there a better time and place to discuss your funeral, than at your own funeral?”
“When you’re not stood next to the one person who can hear you,” Taylor hissed.
“Maddy was right about you,” Aiden chuckled.
Taylor shot a glare at Maddy, then one at Aiden. “Can we please leave the death conversation until another time?”
Aiden shrugged. It’s my funeral,” she said, with a straight face, until she looked at Maddy, at which point, the two burst out laughing.
Taylor cringed, increasingly thankful that no one could hear them. “That is not funny, Aiden. Aside from the fact that everyone else in here is here to mourn your death, do you think I like hearing about you being dead, especially considering-”
“Don’t say it, Taylor,” Aiden warned. “I’ve told you already, it’s not your fault I’m here, so quit with the guilt trip. Besides, being dead has its perks.”
“What perks?” Taylor asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
“I get to kick some ass and not get fired or arrested for it. And they’ll all be creeps who deserve it. And I can walk through walls,” she grinned. “And do you have any idea how much I can wind Messer up – moving his things around?”
Taylor fought back a smile – that would be somewhat entertaining. “How can you be able to move things yet Maddy can’t?”
Maddy shrugged. “Different purposes.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Taylor demanded.
Aiden shrugged, “Sorry, but we can’t say any more.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
Sunday, October 31st, 08:00
Another reason for the cheerful smile was because something else Aiden had said had hit home with her.
Friday, October 29th, 12:46
Taylor had slipped out before everyone else had left the church and was standing under a tree, still unnoticed, watching the casket get lowered into the ground. There was something holding her back from standing with the others. She sighed, wishing she had the balls Lindsay had: she was stood by Danny’s side, firmly clasping his hand, being the tower of strength he needed.
Even Marty was up there. He had known Aiden before he had taken his sabbatical. Apparently, he had known her well. Very well. They had dated when she was still an officer, but had broken up because he wasn’t ready to have a steady relationship.
“I didn’t want one either,” Aiden told her. She had followed Taylor’s line of vision to the young coroner and had guessed that that was who Taylor had been thinking about. Or at least, that was what Taylor wanted to believe. Psychic powers were a whole other ball game.
“Come again?”
“Marty didn’t want a long term relationship, and neither did I. I was fresh on the force and promotion was the only thing on my mind. We met in the morgue of all places, so it was obvious that the relationship would be dead not long after.”
Taylor glared at her. “Seriously, death jokes are not funny.”
“Ah, well, you haven’t heard the one about the shortcut through the cemetery,” Aiden informed her, before telling her the joke. Taylor rolled her eyes, hoping it would distract from the smile playing over her lips. “Yeah, it was my first dead body. I had been a cop for a grand total of sixteen hours. He’d been a coroner for the same length of time.”
“He can see ghosts too, you know.”
Aiden nodded, “So I’ve just found out. Can’t say I’m surprised – he was always acting weird,” she frowned. “Perhaps that is why he never wanted a proper relationship. Ghosts can play havoc on your s-”
“I’ve noticed,” Taylor said, dryly. “I haven’t had a date in months.”
“Well, from what I hear, that’s your own doing, because a certain blue-eyed wonder over there is crazy for you.”
“Flack doesn’t believe in ghosts.”
Aiden laughed. “He had the same argument when we had a case together in a supposedly haunted monastery. But seriously, at least you don’t have to have a conversation about you seeing ghosts – he already knows.”
“But he doesn’t believe me,” Taylor pressed, staring at said detective’s back.
“Why is that so important?”
“I’ve already had that conversation with him – you can’t trust someone who thinks you are crazy,” Taylor explained.
“Maybe trust has to be earned,” Aiden offered. “And maybe time’s too short not to try. What would you do if he was died before next week even started?”
Taylor stared at Flack’s back. Maybe Aiden had a point.
Sunday, October 31st, 08:03
As soon as she had the Monday edition of her column finished, she was going to go straight around to Don’s house and, well, she wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to say, but it was going to be something along the lines of, "maybe trust has to be earned". Well, it was a lot better than pushing herself into his apartment, pinning him against a wall and pretty much sticking her tongue down his throat. Although that idea was tempting too.
It seemed that everyone else in her area of New York was also in the same cheerful spirits as she wove through the crowds which had gathered for the last block party of the year. Despite the early hour everyone was making the most of the last hot day the city was likely to have. Rain had been forecast for the following day – something which was much needed because of the drought New York had been suffering from that summer. She threw smiles and waves as she accepted the various pieces of food – popcorn, candy, burgers and potato chips – which were offered to her as she occasionally stopped to dance to the song blasting out of the stereo.
It took her three times longer than it normally did to reach the building, but as she wasn’t required to be there, she wasn’t bothered. The building was pretty empty. The only day the paper didn’t go to print was a Sunday (Alex had a work ethic like the owner of Chick-fil-A, in that Sunday was the Lord’s day). They substituted with an extra thick Saturday paper instead and as per usual, the building was empty because of this fact. It was part of the reason Taylor liked to work on a Sunday so much – for the peace and quiet.
She said hello to the few people that were there and made her way up to her office, waving at Smith as she entered. He was listening to his personal stereo again, and didn’t seem to notice her. Taylor smiled to herself and sat down at her computer. It was early and she was soon lost in her work as she half listened to the music that was drifting in through her open window.
Sunday, October 31st, 11:15
It wasn’t until the fire alarm went off that she realised she’s been writing for the best part of three hours. Taylor groaned at the obnoxious noise and finished the sentence she was working on before saving her work. She grabbed her purse, left her office and was about to head out into the corridor when she heard two familiar voices.
“Clear.”
“Clear. Alright, let’s go!”
“Mac? Flack?” Taylor stood gaping at them. “What on earth are you-”
“Can’t you hear the alarm?” Flack shouted at her over the top of it.
Taylor stopped. “It goes off all the time – a faulty wire, or somet-”
“Taylor, there’s a bomb in the building.” Mac told her.
Taylor stopped and turned to head back the way she had come from. Flack grabbed her arm. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Smith is still in there. He has headphones on. I bet he hasn’t even heard the alarm,” she told him, trying to wrench her arm free.
Flack held on as Smith appeared, pulling his headphones off in surprise, “What’s going on?”
“Hey” Flack yelled at him, still holding onto Taylor. “Get the hell out of here!”
The four of them turned to run for the stairs, but before they made it, the bomb went off.
Sunday, October 31st, 11:38
Taylor regained consciousness some time later in fits of coughing due to the dust. She tried to roll over, but there was some form of debris lying on top of her, crushing her right arm. Using all her strength, she pushed it off, coughing some more at the new clouds of dust the debris threw into the air as it landed. Almost as soon as it had landed, something came crashing down beside her. Taylor let out a scream and quickly brought her arms over her head.
As the dust once again started to settle she spotted a body trapped under some rubble just to her side. Her heart practically flew out of her throat as she realised who it was, “Flack!” She dashed over to his side, spotting the open gash at his abdomen almost instantly.
Taylor placed a hand on his face and forehead, carefully avoiding the wounds which were bleeding there. “Oh my God, Flack! Talk to me!” His eyes fluttered at her before he lost focus. “Come on, Flack, stay with me,” she cried, as she turned her attention to the blood. Taylor knew very little about medicine and injuries, but she’d seen enough episodes of ER to know that it looked pretty bad, and that she needed to try and stop the bleeding.
She looked around, spotting a bottle of water, and grabbed it, dousing her hands. She wasn’t sure what good it would do, but it seemed like the best thing to do. Then she pulled her camisole off and turned it inside out. It wasn’t as clean as she’d had liked it to have been, but there was nothing else around. She pushed it gently into the wound, trying hard not to put unnecessary pressure onto what looked like a rib.
“Taylor!”
Taylor whipped her head around and saw Mac and Smith pushing their way over to her, “Flack!”
Mac dropped down to his knees on the other side of the injured detective, “Don! You’re going to be ok,” he told him as he gently removed Taylor’s hand so he could have a look at the wound underneath. “You’re going to be okay,” he repeated. “Just hang on. We’re going to get you out of here.” He looked around at a thin blue powder which was coating the area. “What’s all this blue stuff?”
“I… it’s ink powder,” Smith stuttered.
Taylor looked at her colleague – he seemed fine physically, just a few scrapes, but he wasn’t normally this panicky. “There are a couple of copiers on the floor above us. It must have fallen through,” Taylor told him.
“Oh, God,” Smith muttered. He had taken his first look at Flack’s wound.
Mac took control, “I need your shoelace,” he told Smith. Smith nodded and pulled one out of his shoe. “Right, I need your help here,” he flung the bottle of water at Smith, “Rinse off.” Smith nodded, and did as he was asked, his hands trembling. Mac passed a torch over. “Hold this. Now, give me your thumb and your forefinger – right here. Come on.”
Smith froze.
Taylor took a breath and stuck her fingers inside Flack’s wound instead, grasping at the two pieces of bone. She could actually feel Flack’s warm blood pumping against her fingers – and it was taking every ounce of will power she had not to start crying.
Mac took a quick look at Taylor before sticking his fingers in and tying the shoelace so that the rib was no longer sticking into Flack’s abdomen. But that didn’t make Taylor feel any better. Both she and Mac had both managed to get their hands into the wound… into Flack… at the same time!
She withdrew her hand so that Mac could gently press her top back onto the wound. She swallowed and shut her eyes. The only sound she could hear was music – but from inside, rather than outside. It wasn’t until she made out the lyrics that she realised it was Smith’s walkman.
I wish I could go back to the very first day I saw you
Should’ve made my move when you looked in my eyes
‘Cause by now I know that you’d feel the way that I do
And I’d whisper these words as you’d lie here by my side
It was Celine Dion. She wasn’t sure of the song, but she recognised the voice. Any other time and she would have found it amusing – she’d finally busted Chris Smith on his not so secret, secret: his love of Celine Dion. Only, Flack’s laboured breathing was a sure sign that the situation was far from surreal.
Her eyes snapped open as something was draped over her shoulder – it was Mac, giving her his shirt. She hadn’t even realised that she was sat there with nothing on top other than her bra. She gave him a brief smile but shook her head and pulled it off. But instead of giving it back, she balled it up and gently placed it under Flack’s head.
“How did you know what to do?” Smith asked, staring in awe at Mac.
“I’ve lived through this moment before,” Mac told him. Taylor stared at him, unable to find the words. “Search and rescue will be here soon,” Mac continued. “Grab something and start banging around – make some noise.”
“You think we’re going to make it out?”
“If the oxygen holds out and we don’t get another collapse. Come on, make some noise,” Mac urged.
Smith leapt to his feet and grabbed a piece of metal from the rubble, banging it on what looked like the remains of a desk. “Can anyone here me? Help!” he yelled, banging furiously. “Help! We’re in here! Help!”
Sunday, October 31st, 11:47
The banging and shouting continued for, what seem to Taylor, an eternity, although in all actuality, it was something around ten minutes.
But ten minutes is a long time when the man whose hand you are clinging to in one hand, your other hand stroking his uninjured cheek, his breathing becoming more laboured, and his eyes flickering open and closed, unable to focus on anything.
“Stay with me, Flack,” Taylor whispered urgently, bending her head close to his. “Stay with me. There’s something I need to tell you, and I’m sure as hell not going to tell you when you’re…” she trailed off as the tears began to fall on his face. She quickly wiped them away. “Stay with me, damn it, Don!”
Mac was going to say something, but Smith stopped him as he jumped about excitedly. “They found us,” he yelled, pointing to lights which were peaking through a pile of rubble. “We’re in here!”
“Mac?” Taylor had never been so relieved to hear Danny’s voice. “Mac! You in there?”
“Yeah,” Mac shouted back, as Danny’s head came into view. “Danny, Flack’s injured.”
Taylor watched as Danny’s eyes moved from Mac, to her, to Flack’s unconscious body on the floor. “Alright, we’re coming.”
Sunday, October 31st, 11:59
Taylor waited impatiently as the rescue services spent precious minutes clearing away a hole in the hole so that two paramedics could crawl through with a backboard.
“Taylor, we need to work on him,” said a familiar voice.
Taylor blinked, turning her attention away from Flack to the medic who was standing over her. It was Doc. He gently helped her to her feet as Carlos dropped to his feet to start treating Flack. Taylor hadn’t even realised that Mac and Smith were already being helped through the rubble until a fireman (she was certain he had been introduced to her as Jimmy at some point over the last few months – inevitably through Marty) seemed to appear out of nowhere. He pulled off his jacket and put it on her before helping her through the rubble.
Sunday, October 31st, 12:06
Taylor was sat in an ambulance staring worriedly at the entrance to the now ruined building. After being led outside, she had been taken straight to an ambulance, but had only allowed Alex and Kim to treat her on the condition she could see the building for when Flack got brought out. So far nothing. She moved her head impatiently so she could see around the light Kim was trying to shine in her eyes, drowning out her complaints.
Taylor felt fine. She wasn’t the one fighting for her life. That was until she looked down and watched Kim pull something metal out of her thigh, and the blood began leaking. Then she felt the pain. And boy, did it sting like a bitch! And that was before Kim started to clean it with some antiseptic liquid and wrapped a pad, gauze and bandage around her leg. Taylor looked to her right, only to find Alex bandaging her lower arm up. She knew as she watched that it was broken. Despite the pain, Taylor was not amused: that arm had been out of a cast for a month, and now it was back in it.
But the pain in her arm, leg, and head, was forgotten about as soon as she saw Flack being carried out of the building. Alex and Kim had barely fastened the bandages before Taylor was running over to Flack, ignoring the burning pain that was travelling up her leg.
But before she could get close, a pair of arms had grabbed her. Taylor turned to find someone she didn’t recognise holding her. His clothing showed he was clearly there in an attempt to work out who set off the bomb, but Taylor didn’t care. She was about to start hurling abuse at the man, but Stella appeared.
“Taylor, are you alright?”
Taylor looked at her, shaking her head. “I’m going to the hospital with Flack,” she told her.
Stella nodded. “Let her go, Lessing,” she told the man holding Taylor.
“But she’s a witness-”
“At this moment in time, she’s a victim who has just been rescued from a blown up building,” Stella snapped. “She’s going nowhere other than the hospital.”
The man – Lessing – stared at Stella before letting go of Taylor.
Taylor didn’t even stop to thank Stella – she could see Doc about to shut the door to the ambulance. “Wait!” she yelled.
Doc paused and looked up, “Taylor-”
“I’m coming with you,” Taylor practically demanded.
Doc sighed, and opened the door so that Taylor could climb in the bus.
Sunday, October 31st, 12:48
Flack had been rushed to surgery the moment he had passed through the ER doors. Taylor, meanwhile, had been refused entry to the room and had been led to an empty family room where she had been left with a cup of coffee, told that someone would be along shortly to properly see to her injuries and the promised that she would be kept informed of the detective’s progress.
She was pacing the room back and forth, staring at the floor, when she felt the room go cold. She whirled around and found herself staring at Maddy and Aiden. Stood with them was Flack.
Aiden’s words came back to haunt her: What would you do if he was died before next week even started?
“No,” Taylor whispered, dropping the coffee. “Oh, fuck, no!”
Originally posted 22/07/2006