Goddamn Lonely Love
Disclaimer – no, I don't own any of the characters, blah blah blah. Song lyrics taken from 'Goddamn Lonely Love' by Drive-By Truckers who rock. Enjoy.
Don Flack inhaled deeply, sucking in cigarette smoke like it was the last of the oxygen before his ship went down. He was sitting in a bar; a new bar he had never visited before.
Over the past month it had become his routine to seek out a different bar every night.
One where he wasn't known, where he would never run into a brother officer.
After a day of wearing his 'tough cop' façade and trying to suppress his increasingly troubling feelings, the last thing he wanted to do was spend the evening in a similar fashion, but with friends asking awkward questions and alcohol loosening his tongue.
The truth was, when Officer Rodney Minhas was shot dead in the subway, it wasn't just Danny Messer's life that changed. That day marked a watershed in Don's life too.
Somewhere amidst the confusion that followed - Danny's inability to explain what had happened, the potentially damning evidence, the IAB investigation, Danny's job in jeopardy- Don realised that he had feelings for Danny. Sure, all of Danny's colleagues and friends had worked desperately to clear his name, but underlying Don's part in the investigation was a tide of new, unfamiliar feelings for his friend. Feelings that were stronger and far more terrifying than anything he had ever experienced.
In the days and weeks that followed, while Danny's life seemed to get back on track, Don found himself more lost and confused with every day that passed. Stuck between wrestling with his new feelings and trying to suppress them, Don had gradually withdrawn from the company of his friends and colleagues- declining requests to meet up after work, eating lunch alone in his car.
Every day was slow torture. Seeing Danny too little, seeing him too much- each had its perils. Constantly fearful of revealing his secret, Don had trouble meeting the eyes of his colleagues. He knew they could see the change in him and knew that if one of them asked him how he was, he might burst into tears and confess. Terrified of being exposed, Don had shut off completely and felt more depressed and isolated every day.
Being home wasn't much better. Scared of what he felt, he could scarcely allow himself to think about Danny at all. But when he did, for those few minutes he felt free; imagining being alone with Danny- laughing with him, holding him, kissing him—no- Don had to stop himself there. The few times he had permitted his thoughts to wander down that road he had felt momentarily weightless, until his mind brought him back to reality. How could he think these thoughts, imagine these scenarios? Surely that wasn't who he was?
He waved to the barman for another beer, then proceeded to light a new cigarette from the old one. He had come to depend on this time to help him survive.
While he was still stubbing out the spent cigarette, Don heard the barstool next to him draw back, and became aware that someone had sat down next to him. A moment of silence, then the all too familiar voice:
'Did they learn to swim yet?'
Danny. Startled, Don turned his head to face him.
'Wha-?'
Danny smiled back gently.
'Your sorrows. Did they learn to swim yet, or does drowning them still work?'
Danny was still smiling, but there was a look of concern in his eyes, matching the tone of his voice.
Don was blindsided- a wave of shock and anxiety went through him, his stomach knotting, his chest tightening. Seconds passed before he could think lucidly enough to form a sentence.
'How did you find me?'
'I've been watchin' you. Every day you choose the next bar along the block. It's hardly the devious planof a master criminal'.
Danny laughed a little, but Don could not relax. He was at his most vulnerable and could not afford to give anything away. He took a swig of beer and glanced at Danny, eyes wide open, and waited for Danny to speak.
'Tough case?' Danny signalled the bartender for a beer.
'Uh, yeah, I guess…' Sleep-deprived, nervous and at his wits' end, for a moment Don could not even recall which case he had been working on that day.
'You musta had a lot of tough cases lately,' Danny fixed his eyes on Don's, almost all the humour gone from his voice.
Don swallowed nervously. 'Huh'.
'I've watched you working your way through every bar on the street.'
Danny was totally serious now. Don could see where this was going. He felt his heart rate increase and glanced around the room, eyeing the exits in case he felt the need to bail.
'You gonna tell me what's going on with you?'
Danny leant closer to Don, his voice soft and low.
'What happened to Flack? Where'd he go?'
Don's mouth was dry and half of him wanted to turn and bolt out of the door. His hands were shaking as he tried desperately to think of something to say.
Couldn't he just tell Danny? Wouldn't it be easier just to blurt the words out and be rid of this cancerous secret?
Danny sat silently, looking into Don's eyes as he struggled to speak. Don's face was flushed, his mouth half open, grasping for words. As he tried to say something, a single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped onto his thigh.
Danny watched this happen, a grave look now on his face. He reached forwards and gently grasped Don's wrist, his eyes never leaving Don's.
'We need to get out of here.'