Spoliers for 2x26: Heroes
Sunday, October 31st, 13:28
Taylor had eventually been led out of the ER and back to the relative’s room, where she currently was, a doctor bandaging up her arm. Only, he wasn’t doing a particularly good job with it – it was his first day on his surgical rotation. That being said, the state of the plaster around Taylor’s arm was the last thing on her mind at that point.
The realisation that she had argued with some higher powers over Flack’s life, whilst wearing a filthy, torn pair of shorts and only a bra under a fireman’s jacket, was surreal enough, but the fact that she had won the argument? And then it hit her: she had never discussed the specifics. Sure, they could put his spirit back in his body, but that didn’t mean that he had to wake up afterwards. Taylor shut her eyes. No, they wouldn’t be that cruel, right?
The doctor was trying to convince her to get a shower and changed, as soon as the plaster had set, but Taylor shook her head. Another thing she hadn’t specified was how long Flack was to stay alive for. By all rights, he could die again in the next half hour. So there was no way she was going to leave his side. Not until he woke up, at least.
With the plaster still damp, she muttered her thanks, and, ignoring the doctor’s protests, headed straight back to the ER. Only Flack wasn’t there. She was about to have a small breakdown, when Mac appeared. “Taylor, you’re covered in blood!” Mac noted, staring at her in worry.
Numbly, Taylor glanced down at herself. She turned a shade of red as she realised the jacket was undone, showing that she was indeed covered in blood. She shivered, although not from the cold, and hugged the jacket around her. “It’s not mine,” she told him.
Mac sighed, “Taylor, you need to be admitted.”
“I will when you do,” she told him stubbornly. “I’m fine.” Her ears were still ringing, and she suspected that she was actually talking much louder than she needed to, but she couldn’t feel the pain in her thigh or leg. The doctor had given her some painkiller and that had also taken away the dull throbbing in her head. Besides, she couldn’t leave Flack.
Mac sighed. “Very well.”
“Detective Taylor?” Mac and Taylor turned to find another doctor heading for them. “I am Doctor Barnes. Detective Flack is under heavy sedation to stabilise him before we operate on him. The debris from the explosion is lodged in his chest.”
Mac nodded, sombrely. “We’re going to need his clothing and any debris you remove from his body.”
Taylor shuddered.
“I’ll send everything to the lab,” the doctor agreed.
“Can I see him? Taylor asked. “Please?”
Dr Bares looked at her sympathetically. “Uh, he’s best left alone for now.”
“I can’t stand around waiting,” she told him, a hint of pleading in her voice.
Dr Barnes sighed. “We have an observation room in the OR. You can watch from there, if you like. But there may be other surgical students in there.”
Taylor nodded. “That’s fine,” she consented.
“Right after the operation,” said Mac. “Before he gets bandaged up. I’d like to see him.”
“Okay,” Dr Barnes agreed.
Sunday, October 31st, 14:14
There were other surgical students in there, and all gave the new girl wearing the filthy fireman’s jacket a funny look, but ignored her, for the most part. Taylor sat to one side at the back, away from everyone else. It was one thing to watch an operation on television, but to see it in real life... She was almost thankful that she was too exhausted to lose her stomach. Her stomach remained in tight knots for the entirety of the surgery. Knots that refused to leave even as she walked down to the OR to meet Mac. He had entered as the room was being cleaned, armed with his camera.
“Taylor?”
“Hi, Mac,” she greeted him quietly.
Mac gave the exhausted journalist a long look. “Go home and get a shower,” he told her.
Taylor shook her head, “I’m not leaving him, Mac.”
“You can use the doctor’s showers if you want?” a nurse offered. “And I’ll find some scrubs for you as well.”
“I-”
“She’ll do it,” Mac agreed for her. “Taylor, I will stay here until you get back. Nothing is going to happen to him.”
Taylor looked at him and nodded, following the nurse. She stood in the shower, watching as the water washed all the blood and dirt away. It was everywhere. Finally she was clean and dressed in a set of green scrubs. She hurried back to the OR. Mac was staring down at Flack. “I’m going to get you through this, Don.” Mac turned and found Taylor watching him. “He’ll be alright. I know he will.”
Taylor nodded. Her heart was telling her that was true, but her head simply wasn’t trusting The Powers That Be at that point.
Taylor had eventually been led out of the ER and back to the relative’s room, where she currently was, a doctor bandaging up her arm. Only, he wasn’t doing a particularly good job with it – it was his first day on his surgical rotation. That being said, the state of the plaster around Taylor’s arm was the last thing on her mind at that point.
The realisation that she had argued with some higher powers over Flack’s life, whilst wearing a filthy, torn pair of shorts and only a bra under a fireman’s jacket, was surreal enough, but the fact that she had won the argument? And then it hit her: she had never discussed the specifics. Sure, they could put his spirit back in his body, but that didn’t mean that he had to wake up afterwards. Taylor shut her eyes. No, they wouldn’t be that cruel, right?
The doctor was trying to convince her to get a shower and changed, as soon as the plaster had set, but Taylor shook her head. Another thing she hadn’t specified was how long Flack was to stay alive for. By all rights, he could die again in the next half hour. So there was no way she was going to leave his side. Not until he woke up, at least.
With the plaster still damp, she muttered her thanks, and, ignoring the doctor’s protests, headed straight back to the ER. Only Flack wasn’t there. She was about to have a small breakdown, when Mac appeared. “Taylor, you’re covered in blood!” Mac noted, staring at her in worry.
Numbly, Taylor glanced down at herself. She turned a shade of red as she realised the jacket was undone, showing that she was indeed covered in blood. She shivered, although not from the cold, and hugged the jacket around her. “It’s not mine,” she told him.
Mac sighed, “Taylor, you need to be admitted.”
“I will when you do,” she told him stubbornly. “I’m fine.” Her ears were still ringing, and she suspected that she was actually talking much louder than she needed to, but she couldn’t feel the pain in her thigh or leg. The doctor had given her some painkiller and that had also taken away the dull throbbing in her head. Besides, she couldn’t leave Flack.
Mac sighed. “Very well.”
“Detective Taylor?” Mac and Taylor turned to find another doctor heading for them. “I am Doctor Barnes. Detective Flack is under heavy sedation to stabilise him before we operate on him. The debris from the explosion is lodged in his chest.”
Mac nodded, sombrely. “We’re going to need his clothing and any debris you remove from his body.”
Taylor shuddered.
“I’ll send everything to the lab,” the doctor agreed.
“Can I see him? Taylor asked. “Please?”
Dr Bares looked at her sympathetically. “Uh, he’s best left alone for now.”
“I can’t stand around waiting,” she told him, a hint of pleading in her voice.
Dr Barnes sighed. “We have an observation room in the OR. You can watch from there, if you like. But there may be other surgical students in there.”
Taylor nodded. “That’s fine,” she consented.
“Right after the operation,” said Mac. “Before he gets bandaged up. I’d like to see him.”
“Okay,” Dr Barnes agreed.
Sunday, October 31st, 14:14
There were other surgical students in there, and all gave the new girl wearing the filthy fireman’s jacket a funny look, but ignored her, for the most part. Taylor sat to one side at the back, away from everyone else. It was one thing to watch an operation on television, but to see it in real life... She was almost thankful that she was too exhausted to lose her stomach. Her stomach remained in tight knots for the entirety of the surgery. Knots that refused to leave even as she walked down to the OR to meet Mac. He had entered as the room was being cleaned, armed with his camera.
“Taylor?”
“Hi, Mac,” she greeted him quietly.
Mac gave the exhausted journalist a long look. “Go home and get a shower,” he told her.
Taylor shook her head, “I’m not leaving him, Mac.”
“You can use the doctor’s showers if you want?” a nurse offered. “And I’ll find some scrubs for you as well.”
“I-”
“She’ll do it,” Mac agreed for her. “Taylor, I will stay here until you get back. Nothing is going to happen to him.”
Taylor looked at him and nodded, following the nurse. She stood in the shower, watching as the water washed all the blood and dirt away. It was everywhere. Finally she was clean and dressed in a set of green scrubs. She hurried back to the OR. Mac was staring down at Flack. “I’m going to get you through this, Don.” Mac turned and found Taylor watching him. “He’ll be alright. I know he will.”
Taylor nodded. Her heart was telling her that was true, but her head simply wasn’t trusting The Powers That Be at that point.
Sunday, October 31st, 15:11
Lindsay walked into the AV lab clutching tightly at the evidence bag with the piece of the cell phone in it.
“Montana?”
Lindsay’s head flicked over to the computer Danny was sat at – truth be told, she hadn’t even seen him in there… although, if she was completely honest, she felt him in there when she walked in. Concern was just radiating from him. “Hi, Danny,” she smiled.
“Whatcha got?”
Lindsay sighed. “The bomb was triggered by a phone call,” she said holding the bag up.
“If we can get the last incoming call from this SIM card, traceable number,” Danny frowned. “When I get my hands on the ba-”
“You’ll have to get in line behind me,” Lindsay told him firmly.
Danny looked over at the petite brunette with a new sense of respect for her. She may have been small, but she was one hell of a woman. They opened the bag and slowly prised the SIM card from the charred remains with a pair of tweezers.
Lindsay slipped the SIM into a larger card and then into the card reader. “Come on,” she muttered, fidgeting impatiently. “Okay, finally,” she exclaimed, as the computer beeped at them.
“Alright, whoever owns the number-” Danny started, clicking a button with his mouse.
“-Owns the phone that triggered the bomb,” Lindsay finished for him.
Danny sat in his seat, typing away on the keyboard. Since when had he and Lindsay got to the point where they were finishing each other’s sentences for each other? He shook the following thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about his relationship status. The computer beeped at him.
Next to him, Lindsay cocked her head, “Some kind of secured line?”
Danny nodded,. “Secured government department,” he clicked a few more buttons. “DHS?” he said, reading the computer monitor in disbelief.
Lindsay copied down the information, “I should get this to Mac.”
“Lindsay,” Danny called after her, stopping her from walking out of the room.
Lindsay turned back. “Yes?”
“Are you alright? Really, I mean?” he asked, eyeing her carefully.
Lindsay looked over at him. “Yeah,” she said finally. “Just a bit of a headache. Nothing getting this bomber won’t solve. ” She smiled, “Thanks for asking.”
Sunday, October 31st, 15:44
Danny followed Mac into Chelsea University. They had found out, only a very short time ago, that there was another bomb in this building.
“We set up a perimeter,” Detective Scagnetti told them. “Did you get the FBI information?”
Danny stopped himself from scowling at the detective – it wasn’t his fault that he was there instead of Flack.
Mac nodded. “Bomb threats were made to this library and the New York Daily building starting two weeks ago. Caller said they were drills. Called himself The Sentry.”
“The Sentry?” Danny made a disgusted face. “No one told us?”
Mac shrugged. “Feds followed up but there was nothing solid, so, it went in the hoax file.”
Danny cursed the whole situation, as he scanned the room, careful not to disturb the sniffer dogs that had been brought in to help. He stopped looking when he realised that Mac had stopped, his torchlight fixed on something by a pay phone. Danny could feel his stomach plummet.
“Danny,” Mac said slowly. “Get everyone behind the perimeter.”
Danny nodded.
Sunday, October 31st, 15:55
Minutes later, Mac and Danny were kitted out in protective gear and were about to open the red bag Mac had found. Not that the protective gear gave Danny much comfort – it wasn’t going to do much good from that distance. “Bomb squad won’t be happy you doing this,” he told Mac, glad that his voice didn’t betray his fears. That being said, he dropped the protective screen of his helmet’s visor over his face.
“They’re good, but they haven’t had time to study the trigger we pulled from the first bomb,” Mac explained.
Danny watched Mac nervously. “The bomber can detonate the C4 at any moment.”
“Let’s hope I don’t make the same mistake.”
Danny was not impressed: that wasn’t funny. Nevertheless, Mac was cutting the tape holding the cell phone to the explosives, so he refrained from telling him so.
“Hold this,” Mac instructed him, holding the cell phone out to him. “Cutters.”
Danny handed over the cutters and watched Mac hesitate over which wire to cut. He was about to ask him if getting the bomb squad wouldn’t be a better option, when Mac cut the green and yellow wires.
Danny let out a long sigh. He hadn’t even realised he had been holding his breath. He pushed his visor up to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. If there was one thing today was making him realise, it was that life was precious. And after being this close to the bomb exploding on him, he was going to make the most of it.
Sunday, October 31st, 15:58
Taylor hung up the phone. She had just called the lab off a landline the nurse had provided for her, to let them know that Flack was being moved into a recovery room She turned her attention back to the unconscious detective lying in front of her, his wounds now dressed and his body wrapped up in the hospital gown. Placing her arms on his bed, she rested her chin on top of them and watched the rise and fall of his chest, the movement bringing her some comfort.
Only the comfort didn’t last long. The temperature in the room dropped considerably. Taylor turned and found a guy, who looked remarkably familiar staring at her. Taylor narrowed her eyes. There was no Maddy, and no Aiden.
“You have to stop me.”
His voice rang the bells of recognition in her head, “Lessing?” she asked uncertainly.
“You have half an hour.” He disappeared.
Taylor frowned, and reached for the phone, calling the crime lab and asking them to put her through to Stella. If Lessing was asking her to stop him, that meant he was still alive, which meant he was a schizophrenic. Which also meant he was the guy responsible for Flack lying in the bed in front of her.
Sunday, October 31st, 19:38
Taylor had not moved since calling Stella. She was still sat next to the bed, opposite the large glass wall, holding Flack’s right hand with her cased one, her chin resting on her other arm as she watched him sleep. Mac had arrived ten minutes earlier with Stella, and the two were sat outside of Flack’s room. Taylor didn’t take her eyes off Flack as their conversation filtered in.
“Hell of a thing with Lessing. You put yourself at quite a risk,” Stella said.
“At the end of the day, I don’t think he wanted to kill anyone. I think he just wanted to show us that we’re still vulnerable to attack.”
This did cause Taylor to flick her eyes over.
“You are not taking his side?” Stella asked in surprise, voicing the question Taylor was ready to blurt out.
Mac sighed. “His method was flawed, but the central principle isn’t. It’s hard to argue with the idea that we should protect our country”
“This one really got you, huh?” Stella asked him, resting a hand on his thigh.
Mac let out another tired sigh, “Took me back. Corporal Stan Whitney. Marine sentry at the Beirut airport, I was there, a young lieutenant on gate sentry detail six twenty am,” he explained to Stella. “I was, uh, pretty badly hurt. We lost 221 marines and 21 other service members that day. Corporal Whitney died in my arms.”
Stella smiled reassuringly and squeezed his leg. Mac smiled back.
The door to the wing opened and the rest of the team entered, all three of them giving Mac and Stella a quick smile of greeting and then walking over to the big glass wall of Flack’s room, at which point all five of them walked into the entry to Flack’s room.
“He’s looking up?” Hawkes asked, reading his chart.
“Yeah,” Stella answered. “Um, his neurological eval is set for tomorrow.”
Taylor sighed. “They say there’s room for cautious optimism.”
Hawkes put the chart down so that he could squeeze Taylor’s shoulder. “Cautious optimism. Another way of saying, the miracles of modern medicine.”
Taylor shut her eyes and rested her head back on her arm, just giving a small nod as she did so.
“You know,” Stella spoke up, observing the room’s very tired and drained looking occupants. “He’s on round the clock care. We don’t all have to stay and watch.”
“We don’t have to,” Mac agreed. Taylor could tell that he, like her, wasn’t going anywhere in the immediate future.
Stella nodded. “True. Black coffee, two sugars, right?” She looked over at Taylor, “What about you, Taylor?”
Taylor looked at Flack: he would know the answer to that. Instead of asking for the chocolaty coffee she just asked for it regular. “The same, thanks.” Stella gave her a quick worried look before leaving the room.
“I think I’m going to go talk to his neurologist, find out what time his CAT scan’s scheduled,” said Hawkes, disappearing after Stella.
Danny turned to Lindsay. “Still want that ride?”
Lindsay nodded. “Yeah, sure. Night Mac, night Taylor.”
Danny looked over at Taylor. “Call if anything changes, alright?”
Taylor nodded vaguely. If everything worked out right, there would be no need for phone calls. She managed a small smile as the two left.
Mac walked over and looked down at the sleeping detective. “Are you alright, Taylor?”
Taylor shrugged, “I’m not the one lying in a coma.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
Taylor frowned, “I will be,” she told him, after a long silence.
Stella returned, coffee in tow. She gave Taylor hers and then she and Mac went outside to sit back down. “I’m glad you stayed,” said Mac quietly, looking down at his coffee.
Stella smiled at him. “Mac, that’s what we do. We take care of each other.”
“Stella, I…”
“Yes?”
Mac sighed. “Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she told him softly, resting her head against his shoulder.
Mac smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Sunday, October 31st, 20:17
Danny pulled up outside Lindsay’s apartment and unlocked the car doors.
“Thank you,” said Lindsay softly. She started to get out of the car and hesitated. “Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to be alright?” she asked him softly.
Danny nodded, “Yeah, I will be, Montana.”
Lindsay gave him a smile and started to get out, but stopped when she felt his hand on her arm. “What’s the matter, Danny?” she asked him as she turned back.
The only answer she got was his lips on hers – a firm, yet hesitant kiss.
Danny pulled away and stared at her, watching as she blinked, still surprised. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “Actually,” he said before Lindsay could even begin to remember how to string a sentence together. “No, I’m not. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
Lindsay rolled her eyes, surprising Danny – that was not the reaction he was expecting. And neither was the first sentence to leave her mouth. “Took you long enough.”
Danny stared at her, certain he was hearing things. “Huh?”
“I’ve been waiting for that since you walked me home from Sam’s Steakhouse.”
Danny frowned. “You could have made the first move, you know?”
“What, before or after you invited Taylor and Flack along?”
“I, uh…” Danny looked sheepishly into his lap. “I was scared.”
“Of what?” Lindsay scoffed. “That I would slap your face in the middle of the restaurant?”
“No, that you would kiss me back.”
Lindsay laughed. “Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?”
Danny just looked at his lap. “If you liked me back, then you would have to know about me, and then you wouldn’t like me back.”
Lindsay screwed up her forehead in confusion. “I think that made sense.” She leant over and turned his face to meet hers. “Danny, we all have skeletons in our closet. Even me.” She pressed her lips against his. “I’m not going anywhere,” she giggled. “Except maybe my apartment.” Danny’s eyes lit up. Lindsay, in turn, smacked him upside the head. “That wasn’t an invitation to jump into bed with me, Messer.”
Danny smirked, “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“You want to come up?” Danny arched his eyebrows. “That wasn’t an invitation to jump into bed with me, either.”
Danny smirked again, “Pah, give me time.”
Monday, November 1st, 00:23
Taylor awoke, stiff from the uncomfortable position she had fallen asleep in. She started to stretch, but stopped suddenly when she realised that Flack was holding onto her hand, not letting go.
“Flack?” she asked softly. “Don?”
The sleeping detective showed no sign of hearing her.
Taylor looked up to the seats. Stella had left when Frankie picked her up a few hours ago, and by the looks of things, Mac had left whilst she had been sleeping. She yawned and settled back down. And then she felt his hand spasm. Her head shot back up.
“Don?”
Nothing.
“Don. Can hear me?” Taylor bit her lip. “Squeeze my hand. Squeeze my hand, Don.” She sat there staring at him, and then there was pressure applied to her fingers – he was squeezing her hand. “Thank you,” Taylor whispered. “Oh, God, thank you.”
Originally posted 26/07/2006