Title: Finding the Hope
By: Dacia
Pairing: gen
A/n this is my tribute to all those who died on 9/11 and their families. May all those who died rest in piece. I don’t own anything associated with CSI: NY. Isabell, Brandi, and Ryan are mine as is the poem that Isabell writes.
Summary: This is my tribute to 911. What if Mac wasn't the only one on the team who lost someone that day?

9/11 2006

Lindsay rubbed her eyes. It was going to be a long day. It was September 11 2006 and her mind was going through the memories of when she got the call that her brother had been killed in the World Trade Center leaving her seven year old niece Isabell and her mother Brandi to cope without him. Ryan was a fire fighter and had rushed into try and save others. Lindsay was standing in the break room with the rest of her team. Mac was looking from one team member to the next. He stopped when his glance fell on Lindsay. The look in her eyes reflected his sadness and anguish that this day brought back when he thought of his wife who was also in the Twin Towers. Mac made eye contact with Lindsay and she saw in that one look he understood completely what she was going through. She returned the look and gave him a small smile. Mac opened his mouth, preparing to hand out assignments. However, Lindsay’s cell phone rang. Lindsay gave Mac an apologetic look as she answered her phone.

“Monroe,” she said.

“Lindsay its Brandi, turn on the TV to NBC,” Brandi said. Lindsay could tell that Brandi was crying.

“Why what’s wrong, Brandi?” Lindsay asked.

“Just turn it on, please.”

“Ok, hold on,” Lindsay said.

“Hey, can you turn on the TV, Danny?” Lindsay requested.

“Sure I can. What channel?” Danny asked.

“NBC,” Lindsay replied as she turned back to the phone.

“Ok it’s on NBC, why did you want me to do that has something happened?” Lindsay asked worriedly.

“No they’re at Bell’s school just watch,” Brandi requested.

“Ok I will,” Lindsay said. She turned and focused on the TV along with the rest of the team wondering what was going to come next.

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The Principal of Fraser Middle School walked on to the stage and began to speak.

“Of course we all remember what today is and the devastating loss we all suffered. A classmate of yours has requested to read a poem to you about how it felt to lose her father. Please give a warm round of applause for Isabell Margaret Monroe,” The principal said as she stepped back and handed the microphone to a shaking Isabell. Lindsay’s eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. The rest of the team was frozen in shock. The little girl looked like an almost complete carbon copy of Lindsay.

“My Dad was a fire fighter and he died doing his job saving others. I wrote a poem about how I feel about that day and I’m going to try and read it to you now,” Isabell said softly.

“Take your time we’re all listening, sweetheart. You can start when you’re ready,” the principal reassured. Isabell nodded as she squared her shoulders, and prepared to speak.

“The deafening crash when the towers collapsed.

The anguished screams and cries.

They resonate with me every day.

I hear my Mama cry.

The billowing black smoke is burned into my memory.

The shattering silence and the empty hole are all that’s left of my dad but he will always live on in my heart. I will always love you, Daddy. Thank you,” Isabell said as she ran off the stage in tears amidst a standing ovation.

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Tears blurred Lindsay’s vision and the phone slipped from her hand as she stumbled. Mac ran over and caught her as the first sobs wracked her body. He pulled her into his arms and held on tight.

“It’s ok just cry, sweetheart. I understand what your feeling just let it out, Lindsay,” Mac whispered. The rest of the team surrounded them and turned the embrace into a group hug. Stella could see tears flowing down Mac’s cheeks as well. Everyone else in the room was also blinking back tears as they thought back on that tragic day.

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Brandi was at the back of the gym and held out her arms as her daughter ran into them.

“You did very well, sweetie. I love you, and I’m so proud of you, Bell,” her mother whispered.

“Thanks a lot, Mom. Can we go see Aunt Lindsay now?” Bell requested. Brandi looked over her daughters head at the principal who was standing behind her.

“Go ahead we’re allowing parents to pull their kids out of school for all or part of the day if they need to,” the principal reassured.

“Thank you,” Brandi said softly as she guided her daughter out of the gym and headed out to the car to head to the crime lab.

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Lindsay looked up as the door opened and she heard a small voice call her name.

“Aunt Lindsay?” Isabell asked quietly. Lindsay lifted her head from Mac’s chest and glanced to the door at the sound of her niece’s voice. As soon as Isabell caught sight of her aunt she ran over to her holding her arms out, in a silent request. Lindsay moved away from the group far enough to gather the young girl into her arms.

“That poem was beautiful, Bell. Your Dad would have been so proud I know I am,” Lindsay said quietly. Mac gave Brandi a small smile which she returned.

“We’re all very proud of your daughter,” Mac said.

“Thank you, Detective Taylor,” Brandi replied.

“Call me Mac, please.

“All right then thank you, Mac.”

“You’re quite welcome. It’s remarkable how much Bell looks like Lindsay,” Mac commented.

“Well Ryan and I were twins,” Lindsay explained as she gently rocked Bell as her sobs subsided to sniffles. Lindsay and Isabell broke apart and Bell stared around at the rest of the team. Mac walked over and placed his hand on Isabell’s shoulder.

“You did a very nice job today, young lady.”

“Thank you Mr. Taylor,” Isabel replied shyly.

“You’re very welcome. I lost my wife that day she was in the towers. Your poem reminded me of one very important thing,” Mac admitted.

“What was that?” Isabel asked.

“That no matter how much I miss her and no matter how much it hurts she’s always going to be in my heart,” Mac explained.

“Thank you I’m glad you liked it,” Bell replied quietly.

“I did more than just like it, I loved it. It made me see that there is still hope that in time the pain will fade, but the memories of our loved ones never will,” Mac whispered as everyone nodded in agreement. They all were finally able to see the beginnings of the hope that Bell had showed them in her poem.

Finished

A/n2 my deepest sympathies to all those who lost someone that tragic day. Forgive me if the poem isn’t that good poetry is not my strong point.