A/N -A love story with a little drama.

Rated for swearing - f-word and s-word.

Chapter One

It was winter. Of that much Flack was well aware as he plodded his way down Center Boulevard in Queens. It was a quiet night, a rarity in New York but then that was why he had come over to Queens, his birthplace, his home. His little part of New York City that would always and forever be his. Because this was where he'd been born and this was no doubt where he would...

Flack frowned, how damn cynical he was being that evening.

He crossed the road and stared up at the unnecessarily large buildings across the river. He liked it when he could see the city from a distance. Not too far though, he would never stray too far from his home. It was such a small place in the grand scheme of things, considering all the land that made up the Earth, and yet millions of humans had all crammed themselves into tiny, overpriced apartments and for what? For a view of other tiny, overpriced apartments. Flack snorted derisively as he thought of himself. He was just the same, one of them and yet he loved it.

Flack walked down a few stone steps and made his way towards a low stone wall. His gloved hand brushed the snow from it and then he sat down on the cleared spot.

"Argh!" he yelped as his ass got a freezing from the icy coldness of the wall.

"Darn it," he muttered and then gave up. He could already feel his jeans becoming wet from the melting snow. The trip back home would be an unpleasant one now.

Flack sighed and then looked back across at all the tiny golden lights that lit up the city. People in their homes, enjoying their evenings...or knowing his job...probably not. He smirked to himself wryly and then looked up as two teenagers appeared out of nowhere... from the black of the night. Flack's eyes narrowed. They were just kids, should be in bed at this time. He glanced down at his watch. Christ, it was only ten. Since when had he become such an old grouch? Flack chuckled to himself. His thirty-five years on the planet had sincerely wisened him up to life. He didn't profess to be the most knowledgeable man about town and by no means was he an intellectual. But he could damn well read people, and situations. Not once had anyone got the better of him for his inability to read the subtext of a person or situation.

Flack grinned, feeling rather pleased with himself. Yes, he was damn good at his job and he knew it. He was the go-to guy, the one the others all came to with their problems, the one Sam now came to if she had a problem. His smiled faded slightly as he thought of his sister. For so long he had been angry at her, it had almost split them apart for good. The damage irreparable for her being so...so...so unreliable and for him being so judgemental.

Flack shook his head at himself. Judgemental. He was God damn judgemental and he always had been. Of Sam, of Henry, of Danny and the rest of them. Of everyone, every single victim or suspect that crossed his desk. He had no right to be. Flack clenched his hands in his gloves. He had committed the worst sin there was, gone against everything he had been raised to believe in. Raised as a cop, to bring justice down upon those who deserved it, and raised as a Catholic, a man of God. Flack closed his eyes, his breathing a little louder, a little struggled as an image flashed across his mind. A man. A man down on the ground. An innocent no matter what he'd done. At that moment, in that very second of time, he was an innocent at Flack's mercy and he had judged. He had taken power into his own hands, he had performed justice that should be left only for God and the law to decide.

Flack's eyes blinked open against the bitter cold of the night. He'd stopped wearing his cross after that day. The others, Mac certainly, thought it was because he'd stopped believing in God. That the death of Jess had caused his belief to die along with her. But that was not true. Now more than ever he clung to the hope that God existed, that he guarded the Earth and the souls that lived within it, with a safe hand and just mind. But he was a hypocrite to wear a cross now. He had murdered a man, broken one of the Ten Commandments. And for that he knew he would burn in hell once his time was up, it was only what he deserved.

Flack gently placed his clothed hands together in submission to a higher power. His eyes fluttered closed again and his lips moved soundlessly through the cold air of the night. He murmured a silent prayer, a prayer of repentance and hoped that someone, something above him would hear and would forgive. He just sat, frozen in time like a statue and felt the flecks of cold hit his face. It had begun to snow again. His tongue darted out and tasted the fresh, crisp air. Licked icy lips, the heat burning through them like the sting of fire.

Flack's eyes opened and his gaze turned heavenward, towards the sky high above him. It was clouded; a mystical grey had fallen over Queens and shrouded the place he sat in a slight mist. He looked out across the river towards the city. Over there it was still clear, the cloud had not quite reached it yet. The moon and stars were still visible above it and Flack's breath hitched as he watched them, enchanted by their power. Space had always filled him with wonder... and trepidation. It was so vast, made him feel so inhumanly small and insignificant. And he was, he guessed. The world would still carry on without him if he died. Sam would mourn, so would the team, but they would all move on eventually. Just like they all had when they'd lost members before.

Mac was now happily married, Flack never thought he would see the day, but Christine seemed to have completed the empty life he had been existing in since losing Claire. Jo had her two children, both of whom she loved more than life itself. Danny and Lindsay would always have each other and little Lucy, and their newborn who was to arrive any day now. Adam was with Michelle, punching way above his weight in Flack's opinion, the lucky bastard. And Hawkes had proposed to Camille last month... about time too really. Sid...now Sid was a puzzle. He had his two beautiful girls, almost grown up and adults themselves now. But he was often distant nowadays and Flack couldn't work out why. Jo would probably know, she and Sid were always close.

Flack sighed as he thought of his team and how happy they all seemed to be to his knowledge. He had thought that a relationship would make him happy, would make him feel as complete as all the others seemed to be. Jamie was everything he thought he'd ever wanted in life. She was kind, beautiful, savvy and tough. But there was one essential detail that she lacked, that she always would and he wasn't being fair to her, or to himself, if he ever really thought they could work out. She was Jamie Lovato, that was her name, no-one else and nothing she could do could change that. And nothing he could do could change the past and its events. Life had moved on, the way it always did, and he had moved on with it. A broken man in a broken city.

Flack gulped and looked around, falling out of his stupor. The cloud had now swept across the river and over the city too. It was coming down in thick billows and swirling into a fog that clouded over everything. Flack shivered and felt uneasy. The view in front of him was slowly becoming shrouded by the mist and disappearing into the grey. He turned his head and looked behind him but nothing was there. Just the grey swirls of fog and an icy wind that blew around him, freezing him to the stone wall he sat on. He knew he should really get up and go home. The snow was falling more heavily now and he had work in the morning. Yet...his legs didn't seem to want to work. He was perfectly happy sitting where he was, looking at not much at all anymore. But he enjoyed just taking a moment to mull things over, to contemplate life. He wasn't nearly as shallow as some of the others thought he was. Mind you, Jess' death had changed that in him. A lot of him had changed that day. Flack's eyes closed again as an imaged flashed before him of a man on the ground.

"No..." he murmured and felt the sting of a trail down his ice cold cheek.

No-one would ever understand. No-one would ever know. Not Jamie, not Danny and certainly not Mac. Although Flack knew he had his suspicions about what had happened in that basement. He was best off alone. The one woman in the whole world he loved now gone. The one person who would have understood why he'd done it... dead many years now. And life had moved on. It was another time. Flack swallowed and then opened his eyes once more. There was nothing. He was in the midst of nothingness. Just a grey and black nothing surrounding him and he wondered if he was still awake, or dreaming. Perhaps he had died, frozen in place from the cold as he thought of a lost love. A lost chance. Those three words he had failed to say to her when she'd still been alive. He could still remember every inch of her face, every detail, every freckle and mark.

A trail burnt down his other cheek as he thought of her face. Those shining dark eyes, long dark tresses that swept down her back. The perfection of beauty. Flack felt his heart screaming out in his chest and he had to hold a hand to it. He felt it bleed for his loss, the one he had never recovered from, as tears fell down his face. No...no, he was still alive. The pain he felt was all too real. Though perhaps this was his hell, his punishment for becoming a murderer. He was to always feel the guilt, the loss, the loneliness of his life forever more. He was to exist as a solitary soul on the horizon of life for the rest of time.

Flack coughed as it got too much for him and gasped in the frozen air. It hit his lungs with a vengeance and pain shot through his body making him cough even more. He needed to get out of there. He needed to move and get back home. Sitting and dwelling on his past was no good. He'd prayed for forgiveness too many times already. All he could do was to hope that maybe one day he would receive that forgiveness he so desperately seeked, and that some ounce of happiness would go with it. That maybe one day... one day he would be at peace.

Ever so slowly Flack moved his arms and started to push himself up. His limbs screamed out in protestation at the movement but Flack fought with them and won. He stood, on shaky legs and turned to try and find his way home. The fog was thicker than ever, not even the streetlights punctuated through it as a helpful guide. Flack frowned grouchily. He needed to get back. Tomorrow was just another day; another death would be waiting for him no doubt. Mac would be there with his ever so serious face, the man hadn't even broken out into a single smile at his own wedding. Danny would be there bouncing jovially on his toes, excited about the birth of his son. Hawkes would then bore them to death with some minute detail of science that really wasn't important. Sometimes Flack even wished he could swap places with the corpse when Hawkes started off on one. Jo would make some 'Dear Lord' or 'God darn it' Southern comment that would make him smirk.

Flack chuckled. Maybe life wasn't so bad. He loved these people. Each and every single one of them. Even creepy Sid who he never really saw that much but still considered to be a good friend. And little Adam, on his way to becoming a CSI and getting serious with his girl. Flack remembered the first time he had met the lab rat; they had become fast friends quickly and had often hung out playing xbox or playstation at each other's apartments. He had helped teach Adam how to pick up girls and be more confident around them and in return Adam had secretly helped him to understand the terminology often used by their friends at the lab. It was their little secret. Yes, Adam had always been one of his best friends, long before even Danny, Hawkes and Lindsay had decided they'd liked him. They'd simply found him strange and irritating to start with. Perhaps that was why he and Adam had got on so well so fast. They'd not spent so much time together at work. But now Adam had surpassed him, doing well both personally and professionally.

Flack sighed as he slowly trudged into the nothing, his feet becoming heavy and ladened with snow. He turned as he thought he heard a noise somewhere around him in the swirling mist. He was lost. He hadn't walked further than a few feet but had no idea where to go next. He hoped he didn't walk right on into the river. He turned and swiftly banged into something hard and most likely a wall or tree.

"Ow!" he cursed loudly as he stumbled back and fell into the snow.

He could feel warm liquid falling from his nose and knew it was blood. Flack lay there in the snow and gently picked up a handful of it to place on his nose. He grinned as he thought of the irony that he happened to be surrounded by such a useful thing when he hurt himself, despite being irritated by the snow to begin with. His knees felt sore and Flack guessed they might be cut up too. He groaned as he wondered how he would get home. The snow felt so comfortable and light. He could feel it falling down on top of him and covering him. If he could just stay there... Suddenly he heard something to his right. Feet, feet trudging out of the mist. Two sets. It was those two kids again.

"I told you he was still 'ere..." one of them muttered as he bent down.

"Get his wallet, quick..." the other hissed as he shifted nervously.

Flack groaned and tried to roll away as one kid bent over him and started patting him down for a wallet.

"Get off me, kid. I'm a cop," Flack growled as he moved sluggishly away and uncovered the badge he still wore on his jeans.

"Shit, a cop," the kid started as he jumped back.

"Fucking pig," the other kid muttered. "They did my ol' man in, ya know? Set 'im up good an' proper."

"Pig," the other kid repeated as he spat on Flack.

"Hey!" Flack grunted as he sat himself up.

Everything in his body screamed at him to stop moving. His legs and arms moved in agony and his muscles fought with him. His knees were still aching, as was his face. Flack realised that being sat unmoving in the icy air and snow for so long had stiffened him up and he was moving too slowly to protect himself.

"Bastard," the other kid shouted as he raised a foot and kicked Flack hard in the face.

"Argh!" Flack cried as he fell back into the snow and lay there, nose definitely broken.

He could hear scuffling around him, perhaps a struggle but no-one else tried to hit him again and he was grateful for whatever had distracted the kids. Perhaps some rescuer had chanced upon them and was chasing them away. He didn't really care. He felt cold, too cold. How he wished for even a cup of precinct-sludge coffee right at that moment to warm him up. All of a sudden something appeared over him in the mist. A person. His saviour.

"You alright there, buddy?" said a calm voice.

A face loomed out of the darkness above him and stared down through the nothing at him.

Flack blinked his eyes in shock and then tried to scuffle back in the snow as his heart hammered violently inside him.

"You?!" he cried in disbelief.