A Montana CSI Foresees Her Death

Chapter Nine

It felt as if she was sinking into the cotton. Starched sheets that rustled when she twitched, the smell of disinfectant again, but no blood, no vomit – just sharp, clean and clear bleach, soap on the sheets. The head ache had dimmed to a gentle contraction, a dull reminder of the trauma she was trying not to recall.

Danny was sitting in a plastic chair at her bedside, reading a newspaper.

She reached out with a finger, forced the joints to work. He was just within touching distance; enough for her to tap his shoulder, and make him jump out of his skin.

“Jesus Christ!”

She smiled at him, weakly. Danny would have glared, but he was too busy feeling overwhelmingly relieved. He dragged his seat closer and rested his elbows on the bed. “Hey,” he was gentle.

“Hey,” she cleared her throat, feeling odd; a little stiff and very lethargic.

He leaned forward, licked his lips, and thrust his glasses up his nose a little further, knotting his fingers tight, awkward and unsure. Lindsay blinked at him, her gaze a little glassy, but focused clear enough, travelling over his face expectantly. Danny laughed, nervously, and shook his head, “you scared the crap out of me, you know that?”

“Sorry,” she murmured. She had a tube up her nose and needle in her arm, a clamp on her finger and a hospital gown on – she looked way too similar to the typical rape victim or homicide survivor he collected evidence from nearly every day. Fortunately he’d been able to swab her head wound while she was unconscious.

“Ah, I’ll forgive you,” he shrugged and smiled.

Lindsay yawned, still watching him, and tried to lift a hand to rub her eyes, but found her arms suddenly had the same consistency as led weights, “how long was I out?” she mumbled, frowning.

“Couple of hours,” Danny shrugged again, “they’re uh… they’re gonna keep you in for a couple of days, for observation, you know… Good news is your skull seems pretty much to be in one piece. You just have one hell of a concussion.”

Lindsay closed her eyes, “you’re telling me…”

“Is the light too bright?” Danny asked, suddenly concerned, “’cause we can fix that.”

“I’m okay,” Lindsay replied, her voice still hoarse. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “sure you will, country girl.”

Lindsay smiled, but didn’t bother opening her eyes. There was a pause, which she was perfectly content to let hang – whatever pain-meds she was on were making her sleepy. Her thoughts were beginning to drift pleasantly apart at the seams.

Danny, however, was growing nervous again, “so, um… claustrophobic, huh?”

Lindsay opened one eye and looked him up and down, before clearing her throat to deadpan, “was it the hysterical screaming or the clawing at the door until my nails bled that gave me away?”

Danny grinned then grimaced, “sorry.”
Lindsay closed her eyes again, “I’ll forgive you.”

She might have fallen asleep again – she was never entirely sure. When she opened her eyes once more, Danny was leaning back in his chair, newspaper folded neatly on the floor, cleaning his glasses with a sleeve.

“Danny?”

“Hey,” he smiled, as if there’d never been a pause in the conversation.

Lindsay tugged her blanket up further over her shoulders, “how long do I have to stay here?”

“In the hospital?”

“Mm.”

Danny looked a little awkward, placing his glasses back onto his nose, deftly shunting them into place with a thumb, “I already told you that, Lindsay.”

Lindsay blinked at him in confusion, “You did?”

“Yeah…”

“I…” Lindsay frowned, “I don’t remember that…”

“It’s probably the meds,” Danny told her, sympathetically, “add that to the concussion and your mind’s probably not functioning quite like it should be right now.”

“Mm,” Lindsay sighed and scrunched her eyes shut, trying to recall the details of her conversation with Danny when she had first woken up, but drew only an unsettling blank, “could you tell me again?”

Danny smiled slightly, “sure. They’re uh… they’re gonna keep you in a couple of days, you know, observation and stuff. Till the meds wear off. And in case you do that whole ‘forgetting to breath’ thing again.”

Lindsay lifted her eyebrows, “what?”

“Yeah, you um…” Danny looked a little sheepish, “kinda stopped breathing for a couple of minutes – back in the lab. The doctors said it was shock or something. Scared the shit out of us. You uh… you should have seen Flack’s face.” He laughed, the sound distinctly strained

Lindsay closed her eyes, “Oh God…”

“You were okay though,” Danny pointed out, unnecessarily.

Lindsay wasn’t listening, “Oh, God, he nearly killed me, didn’t he?”

Danny scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. He didn’t know what to tell his colleague. Lindsay was sweet and tough and naïve – she’d been an easy mark, at first, and lately he’d been kinda charmed by her. But he didn’t know her well enough to be of any comfort.

Lindsay threw an arm up over her eyes and stared into the blank void her flesh provided. She felt ill again.

“You want some water… or something?” Danny asked, quietly.

Lindsay shook her head. Her throat was dry, but she doubted she’d be able to swallow anything.

Danny spread out his palm next to her hand, then, gently, lay his little finger over hers. Lindsay was already drifting back into unconsciousness.