Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-08-29 10:35 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-08-29 10:35 am
Flack/Stella - Come Clean
i originally wasn't going to use this for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
alphabetasoup but it just worked out so well when i was writing it.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Come Clean
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Don Flack/Stella Bonasera
alphabetasoup Prompt: G is for Grateful
Content Warning: Spoilers for everything from "Run Silent, Run Deep" on, just to cover my butt.
Summary: There was something amazingly cleansing about standing in the rain.
Author's Note: Written formyherodrowning. Also used prompt Don Flack Jr. / Stella Bonasera / in the rain. Post-"Charge of this Post."
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
There was something amazingly cleansing about standing in the rain. Despite the fact that the water was more polluted than it had been when the rain cycle had been originated in the dawn of time, but the idea, the symbol was still the same. The rain came to wash the world fresh and clean, to give the Earth a clean slate to start over fresh on. Stella didn’t see why it couldn’t do the same for her. Give her a good fresh start after every speed bump life threw her way. Hitting a dead end on a case. Fighting with Mac. Dealing with a suspect the wrong way. After things were resolved, go out, run in the rain, start fresh. A new beginning.
But this year’s speed bumps seemed slightly larger and more dangerous than the usual blips on her radar. Aiden’s issues. Danny’s brother. Frankie. Aiden again. Flack—
Flack in the bombing had hit her harder that she had anticipated. Flack was unfaltering. He was constant and steady and always there. He couldn’t be injured in the hospital. He couldn’t be out of it for weeks. Especially after he had pulled her through the entire trap of quicksand that had been Frankie’s case, Flack couldn’t be hurt like that. It wasn’t possible.
She hadn’t had time between blows to actually take the time to stand in the rain at let Mother Nature wash her clean. All the baggage had just built up one after the other, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to go and be a little kid and just run around in the rain. And one of her rare and fortunate nights off, it was raining bullets.
She decided to go for a walk.
She just walked through the streets of the city, letting the rain wash away the grief from Aiden’s passing, blur the scars from the situation with Frankie, ease the worry and fear from the mess with Flack. Once she finally felt clean again, felt like she could start fresh again, she decided to go deal with the one situation that wouldn’t require a séance.
***
When she walked into Flack’s room at Trinity General, she watched as he looked her up and down, before giving her a smirk, “Is it raining? I haven’t been out in a while.”
“Cute,” she laughed, before going to sit on the side of his bed.
“How you doing?”
“I’m thinking about quitting the force and taking up stand-up comedy,” he replied, a deadly serious look on his face.
“Really?” she replied, the grin on her face widening, “What brought you to this decision?”
“I’ve been bouncing some material off the nurses,” he replied, “They think I’m hysterical. I think I really could have a future here.”
“They’re just flirting with you,” Stella replied, “They do that with all the good-looking patients.”
“I don’t think so,” Flack nodded, “I think they’re really serious.”
“And what does your mother say?”
At that, his face fell and he shifted uncomfortably, “She smacked me upside the head, and told the nurses to lower the amount of morphine they were giving me.” Stella laughed, and Flack grinned with her. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in the longest time, and seeing it on her face was a comfort of some kind. But then the look on his face turned sober, and he gave her a look. “Is it really raining outside?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, “Pretty hard.”
He licked his lips and glanced around the closed in room, no windows. “Wanna go for a walk?”
She helped him into the wheelchair, and pushed him out into the hallway. He gave her directions, and lead her right to one of the empty, unoccupied rooms, with a small window in the corner.
“Can you open the window?” he asked, and as she did, he rolled himself over to the window as it rose off the ledge, and the cool, damp city air rushed to meet him, the smell of the rain lingering in the air. Stella watched him as he sat there, soaking in a pleasure he had so often taken for granted before. They just sat there in silence, him listening to the fall of the rain, and smelling the damp city air that came in to meet him, and her watching him, wondering how much like a prisoner he must feel.
“I’m guessing you probably already know this,” he said, a faint smile on his lips, “But you wouldn’t believe how incredibly refreshing it is to go running in the rain.” There was something in his voice, a faint longing of some kind for the life that he knew was going to change forever. God only knew when he was going to be able to run again, let alone go running in the rain. He had a long road ahead of him, and sitting here in a wheelchair listening to the rain outside wasn’t fixing anything or cleansing him of anything.
“Don?” she frowned, “You OK?”
He glanced up at her briefly, before nodding, “I’m fine. This was just a bad idea.” He started to roll his way to the door, and Stella jogged after him, catching him before he left the room. She gripped the handles of the wheelchair, and steered him in the direction of the elevator.
“I have a better one,” she replied, getting him into the sliding doors and hitting the button for the roof.
***
They only had one close encounter with one of the nurses, and Flack quickly charmed her into letting him continue. “She’s one of the ones who think I should do stand up comedy,” he had gloated to Stella later, and she rolled her eyes. That particular nurse she knew had a habit of flirting with patients, but she tended to be a stickler for what was best for the patient. If she was letting him go up to the roof, there wasn’t anything wrong with it.
She pushed him out onto the roof, rain drops smacking the tar of the helicopter pad as he took the wheels of the wheelchair and rolled himself to the middle of the roof, and just stopped, head back, letting the rain soak through the thin material of his shirt and sweats, soak his hair, run off his face, wash him clean. Once he had had his fill, he wheeled back to where Stella was standing at the door and gave her a nod, “Thanks, Stell. I needed that.”
“Everyone needs a chance to come clean,” she replied, before ushering him back into the elevator and back to his room.
alphabetasoup but it just worked out so well when i was writing it.Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Come Clean
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Pairing: Don Flack/Stella Bonasera
alphabetasoup Prompt: G is for Grateful Content Warning: Spoilers for everything from "Run Silent, Run Deep" on, just to cover my butt.
Summary: There was something amazingly cleansing about standing in the rain.
Author's Note: Written for
myherodrowning. Also used prompt Don Flack Jr. / Stella Bonasera / in the rain. Post-"Charge of this Post." Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
There was something amazingly cleansing about standing in the rain. Despite the fact that the water was more polluted than it had been when the rain cycle had been originated in the dawn of time, but the idea, the symbol was still the same. The rain came to wash the world fresh and clean, to give the Earth a clean slate to start over fresh on. Stella didn’t see why it couldn’t do the same for her. Give her a good fresh start after every speed bump life threw her way. Hitting a dead end on a case. Fighting with Mac. Dealing with a suspect the wrong way. After things were resolved, go out, run in the rain, start fresh. A new beginning.
But this year’s speed bumps seemed slightly larger and more dangerous than the usual blips on her radar. Aiden’s issues. Danny’s brother. Frankie. Aiden again. Flack—
Flack in the bombing had hit her harder that she had anticipated. Flack was unfaltering. He was constant and steady and always there. He couldn’t be injured in the hospital. He couldn’t be out of it for weeks. Especially after he had pulled her through the entire trap of quicksand that had been Frankie’s case, Flack couldn’t be hurt like that. It wasn’t possible.
She hadn’t had time between blows to actually take the time to stand in the rain at let Mother Nature wash her clean. All the baggage had just built up one after the other, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to go and be a little kid and just run around in the rain. And one of her rare and fortunate nights off, it was raining bullets.
She decided to go for a walk.
She just walked through the streets of the city, letting the rain wash away the grief from Aiden’s passing, blur the scars from the situation with Frankie, ease the worry and fear from the mess with Flack. Once she finally felt clean again, felt like she could start fresh again, she decided to go deal with the one situation that wouldn’t require a séance.
***
When she walked into Flack’s room at Trinity General, she watched as he looked her up and down, before giving her a smirk, “Is it raining? I haven’t been out in a while.”
“Cute,” she laughed, before going to sit on the side of his bed.
“How you doing?”
“I’m thinking about quitting the force and taking up stand-up comedy,” he replied, a deadly serious look on his face.
“Really?” she replied, the grin on her face widening, “What brought you to this decision?”
“I’ve been bouncing some material off the nurses,” he replied, “They think I’m hysterical. I think I really could have a future here.”
“They’re just flirting with you,” Stella replied, “They do that with all the good-looking patients.”
“I don’t think so,” Flack nodded, “I think they’re really serious.”
“And what does your mother say?”
At that, his face fell and he shifted uncomfortably, “She smacked me upside the head, and told the nurses to lower the amount of morphine they were giving me.” Stella laughed, and Flack grinned with her. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in the longest time, and seeing it on her face was a comfort of some kind. But then the look on his face turned sober, and he gave her a look. “Is it really raining outside?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, “Pretty hard.”
He licked his lips and glanced around the closed in room, no windows. “Wanna go for a walk?”
She helped him into the wheelchair, and pushed him out into the hallway. He gave her directions, and lead her right to one of the empty, unoccupied rooms, with a small window in the corner.
“Can you open the window?” he asked, and as she did, he rolled himself over to the window as it rose off the ledge, and the cool, damp city air rushed to meet him, the smell of the rain lingering in the air. Stella watched him as he sat there, soaking in a pleasure he had so often taken for granted before. They just sat there in silence, him listening to the fall of the rain, and smelling the damp city air that came in to meet him, and her watching him, wondering how much like a prisoner he must feel.
“I’m guessing you probably already know this,” he said, a faint smile on his lips, “But you wouldn’t believe how incredibly refreshing it is to go running in the rain.” There was something in his voice, a faint longing of some kind for the life that he knew was going to change forever. God only knew when he was going to be able to run again, let alone go running in the rain. He had a long road ahead of him, and sitting here in a wheelchair listening to the rain outside wasn’t fixing anything or cleansing him of anything.
“Don?” she frowned, “You OK?”
He glanced up at her briefly, before nodding, “I’m fine. This was just a bad idea.” He started to roll his way to the door, and Stella jogged after him, catching him before he left the room. She gripped the handles of the wheelchair, and steered him in the direction of the elevator.
“I have a better one,” she replied, getting him into the sliding doors and hitting the button for the roof.
***
They only had one close encounter with one of the nurses, and Flack quickly charmed her into letting him continue. “She’s one of the ones who think I should do stand up comedy,” he had gloated to Stella later, and she rolled her eyes. That particular nurse she knew had a habit of flirting with patients, but she tended to be a stickler for what was best for the patient. If she was letting him go up to the roof, there wasn’t anything wrong with it.
She pushed him out onto the roof, rain drops smacking the tar of the helicopter pad as he took the wheels of the wheelchair and rolled himself to the middle of the roof, and just stopped, head back, letting the rain soak through the thin material of his shirt and sweats, soak his hair, run off his face, wash him clean. Once he had had his fill, he wheeled back to where Stella was standing at the door and gave her a nod, “Thanks, Stell. I needed that.”
“Everyone needs a chance to come clean,” she replied, before ushering him back into the elevator and back to his room.
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