OK, guys, I'm done! I think. If there's anything that didn't get cleared up, let me know (I'm rather forgetful) and I'll do a quick little chapter to clear it up. Thanks for reading, and thanks for whatever you've written back!

"Did you …" Mrs. Ryan gulped loudly, "did he say anything about us?"

Lindsay knew she shouldn't lie. She knew that the truth always came out, no matter how imperfect the situation. Her fingers fluttered over her round stomach, and she knew that she had to.

"Yes, he did." She wished Danny were there. If Danny were there, he'd tell the truth. He'd have the strength to tell them that their son had felt completely alone, despite all attempts to convince him otherwise.

Mr. and Mrs. Ryan sagged in the couch. Their hands were gripped so tightly together that Lindsay could see whiteness accumulating on each of their knuckles. She could see a vein pulsing in the hand of Mr. Ryan, and a blotchy bruise beginning to form on Calista Ryan's middle finger.

"Did he seem at peace? Did he suffer?" Kevin Ryan asked.

"He died instantly," Lindsay said truthfully. She couldn't possibly begin to tell them of Jessie's screams and hoarse shouts as his eyes darted back and forth. He'd died conflicted, torn, and scared. And alone.

Why the hell did I come in today? she screamed in her head, This is payback. This is karma for not being on bed rest like I should, and taking care of my child. I'm already a bad mother, and this is how I'm being punished.

"What did he say about us?" Calista asked.

Lindsay felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to find Danny. She was immensely grateful for his presence, considering she was three seconds from breaking into tears, and she didn't deem it appropriate in front of two grieving parents.

Danny cleared his throat. "Hey, I'm Detective Messer. I was with Detective Monroe at the scene."

They nodded their hellos. Lindsay saw the jumble of joined hands shake slightly.

"He told us to tell you that he loved you, both of you," Danny lied.

"Stupid fuck," Mr. Ryan said thickly, breaking his wife's grasp.

"Kev-" Calista started.

"NO, Callie, we can't do this. The kid was always yammering for attention. He wanted us to pay for this. He wanted make us feel like he was some kinda saint. Well, I ain't buyin' it. The kid was a needy little wuss. He shoulda manned up and taken it!" Kevin took a few heavy breaths before motioning to his wife and slamming his way out the door.

Danny had pushed his way in front of Lindsay, and stood, his brow furrowed, in front of her chair with his hands up.

Calista looked jerkily around the room. She stood and threw them a sketchy smile. "They were never close."

"Yeah," Danny grunted.

She turned on her heel and scurried off after her husband. Danny turned to find Lindsay with tears pouring from her eyes.

"Sweetheart, what's –"

"I'm fine," she said shrilly, "It's just a hormones thing, really. I'm fine." He wrapped his arms around her and tugged her to him. She buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed openly.

"I know, babe. I know."

"I shouldn't have lied." She moaned into his shoulder, "They wouldn't have been mad if I'd told the truth."

"Hey." She lifted her head and looked at him. "Don't. I would have lied, too."

"Then why –"

"They're jerks."

And she took his logic. It wasn't the smartest, it wasn't entirely logical, but she accepted it for what it was. Besides, what kind of father calls his dead son a wuss?

Danny kissed the top of her head. He'd come to the lab prepared to yell at her for disregarding her bed rest, despite her well-meaning actions. When he'd found out that Jessie's parents were in Mac's office, he'd known where she'd be. He deeply regretted not informing her of the six domestic disturbance calls that had come from the Ryan residence in the past 16 years.

Once he filled her in about Mr. Ryan, she nodded and sniffed loudly. He helped her wipe her face.

"OK." She said, and he pulled her up.

"I'm gonna take you home, alright Montana? You should be resting."

"Fine. But we're getting ice cream first."

He laughed and twined his fingers with hers, strolling down the hall.

"I'm feeling …" she rubbed her stomach absentmindedly, "Chocolate chip cookie dough. With sprinkles. Do you think they'll have rainbow sprinkles? I hate those chocolate ones…"

"I'm sure they do."

"Good," she said cheerfully. She tucked Jessie into the back of her mind, folding the memory of his fire-centered rage for his life and placing it on a shelf. She missed him though she'd never met him. She knew Danny was taking it pretty hard, too. She'd seen the victims of his guilt – a broken plate, an extra beer bottle the night after they'd come home from the hospital, the little worry lines that had only just faded. But he was gone, and she knew she couldn't do much about it.

She licked her spoon pensively, catching the plastic in her teeth and sucking as she saw Jessie in his last moments, waving one hand at the exit door, the other clutching the activator for the bomb.

She blinked to clear her vision and caught Danny with his mouth open, staring at her spoon. He was practically drooling.

She giggled, waking him from his trance.

"Sorry," he muttered, and closed his mouth firmly.

"Do you think that if I wasn't pregnant, we wouldn't have run?"

"We woulda run."

"You don't know that."

"I know we woulda. The kid was gonna do it no matter what. 'Sides, we did run. That's all there is. We have the baby, and I have you, and that's it." He kissed her neck and pulled her closer on the vinyl booth.

She smiled. "I believe you."

"Ya better."

She took another spoonful of her ice cream, sliding it into her mouth. This time she was aware of his eyes. She sucked the spoon clean and half-closed her eyes.

"Mmm… it's so-o-o good, Danny," she breathed. She sucked the spoon for good measure.

It only took him a second to slide out of the booth, grabbing her hand and dragging her out with him.

"Where're we going?" She asked innocently.

"Bed." He grunted, throwing money on the table for the tip and jogging out of the ice cream parlor, Lindsay's hand grasped tightly in his.