Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-12-06 12:52 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-12-06 12:52 am
Another World (4/?)
i can already feel this swallowing my brain. i can't tell if that's a good thing or bad thing. all i know is that sometime this week, i have to take a break from this, and write my last ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
stagesoflove fic. but i'm not going to worry about that now.
Fandom: CSI/CSI: Miami/CSI:NY/Everworld
Title: Another World (4/?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Characters: Don Flack, Lindsay Monroe, Melinda Fitzgerald (OC)
100_prompts Prompt: 016. Guess
Content Warning: Spoilers up to and including "Run Silent, Run Deep."
Summary: Flack wakes up the next morning with a really bad headache.
Author's Note: REALLY REALLY AU. This is, after all, a crossover with a sci-fi/fantasy series. If you are curious and want to know more about Everworld, there are links to the reference posts in the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: If they're the characters of CSI:NY or listed here, I don't own it, and they belong to CBS or K. A. Applegate. However, if it's listed here, it is mine, so please don't use it without my permission.
His head really hurt when he woke up. He had just had one crazy ass dream, and his head really hurt.
He needed to lay off the alcohol a bit.
Flack blinked his eyes open and found himself on his stomach in his own bed. He was still dressed in his clothes from last night, so he figured that he must have been taken home and just passed out. But the thing was, he didn’t even remember going to the bar last night. He barely remembered leaving the house. Maka called him, asked him if he wanted to grab a beer. He left his apartment and—
—that’s when his night started to blend into his crazy ass dream, where he had met up with Danny and Lindsay in the park on the way to said bar, started to get into it with Danny over that damn stabbing victim again. Although this time he really started to get pissed. And then all of the sudden, Danny pulled a total about face, told them both to get out, and refused to give them a reason why. Then there was bright light, something that looked like a wolf, and he thought he heard Monroe screaming but he couldn’t really be sure. He’d never actually heard her scream before.
But that wasn’t the point. That portion of the evening, considering after that he remembered nothing, had to have been a dream. Because that didn’t happen in real life. Sci-fi movies maybe, but on the streets of New York City—not necessarily. So yes, that was definitely a crazy ass dream. But it sort of bugged him that he couldn’t remember what happened past him leaving the house.
He pulled himself to his feet, and started to stumble into his bathroom, searching for Tylenol for what he assumed was a hangover. As he stood at the sink, splashing his face with water a few times to wake himself up, and began to wonder if all that had ever happened. Maybe Maka didn’t even call him at all, and he had just passed out after a long day and dreamed the whole thing.
But how the hell did he get the hangover?
Stress headache. That Melinda Fitzgerald was going to drive him to an early grave, if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t even understand why the hell he cared so much, he didn’t even know the woman. But for some reason, he didn’t want to let this guy go. It must have happened while he was sitting with her, when he was trying to stop the bleeding.
“Go! Go!” she said, gesturing for him to run after the guy, seeing him hesitate in front of her, “I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t go, though, he shrugged off the jacket and held it against the stab wound in her side. He called for an ambulance, and waited for them to arrive.
“You really don’t have to stay with me,” she said softly, looking him in the eye, “I’ll be fine. Go get him.”
“No,” he shook his head, “You’re bleedin’ pretty bad. I’ll stay with you. We can get that guy later.”
“Look I appreciate this, I really do,” she said, maintaining the eye contact with him, and her hand sliding up to cover his own, “But I’ll be fine. Go! Chase him!”
“No,” he shook his head stubbornly, “You need me here.”
She seemed frustrated with him. Maybe almost confused. He wasn’t sure. And when did a complete about face and said she didn’t want to press charges, that only confused him even more. He didn’t know who she was, or what she did, but he just wanted to make sure the man who stabbed her paid for what he did. And then the fact that Danny was so blasé about it, and getting upset and protective like he usually did was only making things worse. But he was tired of thinking about it. It was only making his headache worse.
He trudged out of the bathroom and picked up his cell phone, seeing that he had a bunch of missed calls and a few voicemails. He didn’t even bother checking who had called, just went straight for those who had left a message.
“Hey, Flack, where are you? It doesn’t take you a half an hour to get to Sullivan’s. Look, if you knew you couldn’t make it, you could have just said so, alright? Just give me a call and let me know if you’re still coming out not.”
He was really not looking forward to work now. He didn’t like getting chewed out by anyone, let alone Maka, and he really had every intention of meeting her last night. Why he didn’t make it, he didn’t know, but he was going to have to make it up to her later, and in a pretty big way. And have a damn good excuse. There were a few more messages from Maka with increasing levels of anger and alcohol before he finally reached the last message which, to his surprise, wasn’t from Maka.
“Hey, Flack—uhh—it’s Lindsay. Look, last night, I had this really weird dream about you, me and Danny in Central Park, and—well, it really creeped me so I called Danny and—he wasn’t picking up his phone, everything just went straight to voicemail, so I figured I’d call you and see if it was just me losing my mind, or something might have actually happened, and—I guess—I just—God, I don’t even know what I’m doing. You probably think I need to have my head checked or something. And I probably do. OK, I’m going to stop rambling to your machine now.”
Flack froze staring at his phone, before ending the call to voicemail, and calling Danny’s cell phone. If this was Monroe’s idea of a joke—
“You’ve reached Danny. Can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll call you back.”
He hung up. He then dialed his land line, seeing if he would have better luck.
“You’ve reached Danny Messer. I’m not home right now, so you can either try me on my cell, or leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”
BEEP!
“Hey, Danny, it’s Flack. Look, Monroe’s just creepin’ me out, and if you could give me a call, let me know you’re still alive, that would be great, alright? I’ll see you later.”
He hung up again, before heading back into the bedroom to take a quick shower and get dressed for work. He had to be quick though, if he wanted to make it over to Danny’s before he had to report to the crimelab.
***
Melinda was locking Danny’s apartment behind her when Flack arrived. When she saw him, she shook her head, turning back to the door, “If you’re here to pressure me into pressing charges, you can just take it and—”
“Actually, no, it’s not always about you,” Flack replied giving her a look, “I’m looking for Danny.”
“Well, considering that you called about a half-hour ago, and he didn’t answer,” Melinda began, “You’d think a bright detective such as yourself would figure out that he’s probably not home.” She knew she was being pissy with him, and she normally wasn’t, but she really didn’t feel like dealing with the events of last night any more than she had to. And the attitude he tended to take with her really put her in the wrong kind of mood.
“Yeah, well, his cell wasn’t on either, so I figured he was—” he hesitated, looking at her slightly uncomfortably for a second, “—preoccupied.”
Melinda wasn’t sure exactly what he was implying, but she could take a pretty good guess, “You think I’m sleeping with Messer?”
“It crossed my mind once or twice, yes,” he replied, and she shook her head at him again.
“I’m not,” she sighed, “Danny’s a nice guy, but he’s not my type.” She ran a hand through her hair before continuing, the attitude gone from her voice, “Look, Danny hasn’t been all night, practically. He left around ten-ish. He thought I was asleep, so he didn’t tell me where he was going, but he never came back. I tried him a few times on his cell, because he was supposed to give me a ride home today, but as you undoubtedly know, his phone is turned off.”
She watched as an uncomfortable look crossed his face, and he shifted slightly, before heading away from her towards the door. She frowned at him, before heading after him, “Hey, wait. Do you know something about where he is?”
No! No, you don’t! It was just a fuckin’ dream! “I—I don’t know,” he stammered. He felt her catch his wrist and she turned him to face her, studying his face for a second, her voice low and soothing, just like it had been in the alleyway.
“It’s OK,” she sighed, stroking the inside of his wrist lightly, softly. It was somewhat comforting, and he looked at her, and she gave him a small smile, “You can tell me. I won’t bite.”
He looked at her, concern clouding his face, “I can’t. You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“I’ve heard a lot of crazy things in my lifetime,” she sighed, “After all, I do teach college students.” He smirked at that, and she took that as a sign to move closer, taking his hand with her other one as well, stroking it lightly, “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
He looked at her seriously for a second, preparing himself slowly to speak—
—when he felt the air get forced from his lungs by the weight landing down on his chest. He doubled up around the weight, coughing suddenly and gasping for air.
“Look at that,” an unfamiliar voice sneered from above him, “The whelp does live. Get ‘im to his feet.”
He felt two hands grab him by the shoulders and pull him up, holding him still so that he didn’t run. He was now eye-level with the man in front of him. He was covered in dirt and grime from head to foot. He was wearing heavy furs and what reminded him of knight’s armor on his body, followed by heavy, thigh high leather boots, which had been what had made contact with Flack’s breastbone. He also had various swords and knives strapped around his body and Flack glanced around, seeing that the men with him were dressed similarly as well. Flack watched him as the man who had stomped on him, obviously the leader, pulled out a dagger to pick his teeth as he slowly circled him, studying him carefully.
“Too tall,” the man commented, “But he’ll do otherwise. Load ‘im in the cart with the girl, and tie ‘im up.” Flack followed his eyes when he saw him cast a lecherous look in Lindsay’s direction, who was sitting on the cart in question, arms bound behind her back and ankles tied together. “Don’t want ‘im ruinin’ the merchandise before we even get ‘er to market.”
The rest of the men laughed at this but Flack was too confused to process it all. One minute he was talking to Melinda in the hallway, and the next he was standing in a—was it a forest? There were a lot of trees and foliage, but he wasn’t sure if that still constituted ‘forest’ wherever they were. He was confused, and worried, and too dazed to really struggle with them as they tied his hands behind his back, and tossed him onto the hay filled cart.
“Are you OK?” Lindsay asked, once the men had left them alone, and she felt the cart start to bounce to life. He nodded, and then looked around them again.
“Lindsay?”
“Yeah?”
“Where the hell are we?” he said, the look on his face a mix of confusion and fear.
“I wish I knew,” Lindsay shook her head, “I really wish I knew.”
stagesoflove fic. but i'm not going to worry about that now.Fandom: CSI/CSI: Miami/CSI:NY/Everworld
Title: Another World (4/?)
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Characters: Don Flack, Lindsay Monroe, Melinda Fitzgerald (OC)
100_prompts Prompt: 016. GuessContent Warning: Spoilers up to and including "Run Silent, Run Deep."
Summary: Flack wakes up the next morning with a really bad headache.
Author's Note: REALLY REALLY AU. This is, after all, a crossover with a sci-fi/fantasy series. If you are curious and want to know more about Everworld, there are links to the reference posts in the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: If they're the characters of CSI:NY or listed here, I don't own it, and they belong to CBS or K. A. Applegate. However, if it's listed here, it is mine, so please don't use it without my permission.
His head really hurt when he woke up. He had just had one crazy ass dream, and his head really hurt.
He needed to lay off the alcohol a bit.
Flack blinked his eyes open and found himself on his stomach in his own bed. He was still dressed in his clothes from last night, so he figured that he must have been taken home and just passed out. But the thing was, he didn’t even remember going to the bar last night. He barely remembered leaving the house. Maka called him, asked him if he wanted to grab a beer. He left his apartment and—
—that’s when his night started to blend into his crazy ass dream, where he had met up with Danny and Lindsay in the park on the way to said bar, started to get into it with Danny over that damn stabbing victim again. Although this time he really started to get pissed. And then all of the sudden, Danny pulled a total about face, told them both to get out, and refused to give them a reason why. Then there was bright light, something that looked like a wolf, and he thought he heard Monroe screaming but he couldn’t really be sure. He’d never actually heard her scream before.
But that wasn’t the point. That portion of the evening, considering after that he remembered nothing, had to have been a dream. Because that didn’t happen in real life. Sci-fi movies maybe, but on the streets of New York City—not necessarily. So yes, that was definitely a crazy ass dream. But it sort of bugged him that he couldn’t remember what happened past him leaving the house.
He pulled himself to his feet, and started to stumble into his bathroom, searching for Tylenol for what he assumed was a hangover. As he stood at the sink, splashing his face with water a few times to wake himself up, and began to wonder if all that had ever happened. Maybe Maka didn’t even call him at all, and he had just passed out after a long day and dreamed the whole thing.
But how the hell did he get the hangover?
Stress headache. That Melinda Fitzgerald was going to drive him to an early grave, if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t even understand why the hell he cared so much, he didn’t even know the woman. But for some reason, he didn’t want to let this guy go. It must have happened while he was sitting with her, when he was trying to stop the bleeding.
“Go! Go!” she said, gesturing for him to run after the guy, seeing him hesitate in front of her, “I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t go, though, he shrugged off the jacket and held it against the stab wound in her side. He called for an ambulance, and waited for them to arrive.
“You really don’t have to stay with me,” she said softly, looking him in the eye, “I’ll be fine. Go get him.”
“No,” he shook his head, “You’re bleedin’ pretty bad. I’ll stay with you. We can get that guy later.”
“Look I appreciate this, I really do,” she said, maintaining the eye contact with him, and her hand sliding up to cover his own, “But I’ll be fine. Go! Chase him!”
“No,” he shook his head stubbornly, “You need me here.”
She seemed frustrated with him. Maybe almost confused. He wasn’t sure. And when did a complete about face and said she didn’t want to press charges, that only confused him even more. He didn’t know who she was, or what she did, but he just wanted to make sure the man who stabbed her paid for what he did. And then the fact that Danny was so blasé about it, and getting upset and protective like he usually did was only making things worse. But he was tired of thinking about it. It was only making his headache worse.
He trudged out of the bathroom and picked up his cell phone, seeing that he had a bunch of missed calls and a few voicemails. He didn’t even bother checking who had called, just went straight for those who had left a message.
“Hey, Flack, where are you? It doesn’t take you a half an hour to get to Sullivan’s. Look, if you knew you couldn’t make it, you could have just said so, alright? Just give me a call and let me know if you’re still coming out not.”
He was really not looking forward to work now. He didn’t like getting chewed out by anyone, let alone Maka, and he really had every intention of meeting her last night. Why he didn’t make it, he didn’t know, but he was going to have to make it up to her later, and in a pretty big way. And have a damn good excuse. There were a few more messages from Maka with increasing levels of anger and alcohol before he finally reached the last message which, to his surprise, wasn’t from Maka.
“Hey, Flack—uhh—it’s Lindsay. Look, last night, I had this really weird dream about you, me and Danny in Central Park, and—well, it really creeped me so I called Danny and—he wasn’t picking up his phone, everything just went straight to voicemail, so I figured I’d call you and see if it was just me losing my mind, or something might have actually happened, and—I guess—I just—God, I don’t even know what I’m doing. You probably think I need to have my head checked or something. And I probably do. OK, I’m going to stop rambling to your machine now.”
Flack froze staring at his phone, before ending the call to voicemail, and calling Danny’s cell phone. If this was Monroe’s idea of a joke—
“You’ve reached Danny. Can’t come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll call you back.”
He hung up. He then dialed his land line, seeing if he would have better luck.
“You’ve reached Danny Messer. I’m not home right now, so you can either try me on my cell, or leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”
BEEP!
“Hey, Danny, it’s Flack. Look, Monroe’s just creepin’ me out, and if you could give me a call, let me know you’re still alive, that would be great, alright? I’ll see you later.”
He hung up again, before heading back into the bedroom to take a quick shower and get dressed for work. He had to be quick though, if he wanted to make it over to Danny’s before he had to report to the crimelab.
***
Melinda was locking Danny’s apartment behind her when Flack arrived. When she saw him, she shook her head, turning back to the door, “If you’re here to pressure me into pressing charges, you can just take it and—”
“Actually, no, it’s not always about you,” Flack replied giving her a look, “I’m looking for Danny.”
“Well, considering that you called about a half-hour ago, and he didn’t answer,” Melinda began, “You’d think a bright detective such as yourself would figure out that he’s probably not home.” She knew she was being pissy with him, and she normally wasn’t, but she really didn’t feel like dealing with the events of last night any more than she had to. And the attitude he tended to take with her really put her in the wrong kind of mood.
“Yeah, well, his cell wasn’t on either, so I figured he was—” he hesitated, looking at her slightly uncomfortably for a second, “—preoccupied.”
Melinda wasn’t sure exactly what he was implying, but she could take a pretty good guess, “You think I’m sleeping with Messer?”
“It crossed my mind once or twice, yes,” he replied, and she shook her head at him again.
“I’m not,” she sighed, “Danny’s a nice guy, but he’s not my type.” She ran a hand through her hair before continuing, the attitude gone from her voice, “Look, Danny hasn’t been all night, practically. He left around ten-ish. He thought I was asleep, so he didn’t tell me where he was going, but he never came back. I tried him a few times on his cell, because he was supposed to give me a ride home today, but as you undoubtedly know, his phone is turned off.”
She watched as an uncomfortable look crossed his face, and he shifted slightly, before heading away from her towards the door. She frowned at him, before heading after him, “Hey, wait. Do you know something about where he is?”
No! No, you don’t! It was just a fuckin’ dream! “I—I don’t know,” he stammered. He felt her catch his wrist and she turned him to face her, studying his face for a second, her voice low and soothing, just like it had been in the alleyway.
“It’s OK,” she sighed, stroking the inside of his wrist lightly, softly. It was somewhat comforting, and he looked at her, and she gave him a small smile, “You can tell me. I won’t bite.”
He looked at her, concern clouding his face, “I can’t. You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“I’ve heard a lot of crazy things in my lifetime,” she sighed, “After all, I do teach college students.” He smirked at that, and she took that as a sign to move closer, taking his hand with her other one as well, stroking it lightly, “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
He looked at her seriously for a second, preparing himself slowly to speak—
—when he felt the air get forced from his lungs by the weight landing down on his chest. He doubled up around the weight, coughing suddenly and gasping for air.
“Look at that,” an unfamiliar voice sneered from above him, “The whelp does live. Get ‘im to his feet.”
He felt two hands grab him by the shoulders and pull him up, holding him still so that he didn’t run. He was now eye-level with the man in front of him. He was covered in dirt and grime from head to foot. He was wearing heavy furs and what reminded him of knight’s armor on his body, followed by heavy, thigh high leather boots, which had been what had made contact with Flack’s breastbone. He also had various swords and knives strapped around his body and Flack glanced around, seeing that the men with him were dressed similarly as well. Flack watched him as the man who had stomped on him, obviously the leader, pulled out a dagger to pick his teeth as he slowly circled him, studying him carefully.
“Too tall,” the man commented, “But he’ll do otherwise. Load ‘im in the cart with the girl, and tie ‘im up.” Flack followed his eyes when he saw him cast a lecherous look in Lindsay’s direction, who was sitting on the cart in question, arms bound behind her back and ankles tied together. “Don’t want ‘im ruinin’ the merchandise before we even get ‘er to market.”
The rest of the men laughed at this but Flack was too confused to process it all. One minute he was talking to Melinda in the hallway, and the next he was standing in a—was it a forest? There were a lot of trees and foliage, but he wasn’t sure if that still constituted ‘forest’ wherever they were. He was confused, and worried, and too dazed to really struggle with them as they tied his hands behind his back, and tossed him onto the hay filled cart.
“Are you OK?” Lindsay asked, once the men had left them alone, and she felt the cart start to bounce to life. He nodded, and then looked around them again.
“Lindsay?”
“Yeah?”
“Where the hell are we?” he said, the look on his face a mix of confusion and fear.
“I wish I knew,” Lindsay shook her head, “I really wish I knew.”
no subject
Anyways, please update the story, if you leave it I'm not sure what I'd do.
no subject
i'm glad you're enjoying it so far though.
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'if you could give me a call, let me know you’re still alive, that would be great, alright?'
So Flack.
This is crazy and and fascinating and fabulous!
(And I mean crazy in a good way.)
no subject
and yay! i'm glad you're intrigued.