Mercy

Forgive me. After watching Brian's Song where Scott's father, James Caan, starred as a dying Brian Piccolo, it inspired another deathfic. I hope I'm forgiven and that you enjoy the story nonetheless. My apologies for any medical inaccuracies in the pursuit of literary license.

Steve walked into the hospital hallway, his body shaking with trepidation. He had never felt so afraid in his life. It's not like he hadn't ever lost someone. Fellow soldiers, those who were his equal and those he had commanded, his mother, and his father most recently. He even cradled some of his men in his arms as they died. Though he felt their loss, he had been able to rationalize the loss as part of the risk and life of a soldier in battle. It was not like he had never seen death look him in the eye through the eyes of someone else who was dying, but this was different. Though he had lost his parents, he hadn't been there when their lives had ended. The closest he had come was the crack of a gunshot over a phone line, thousands of miles away, knowing that his father had been killed, but mercifully, in many ways, he hadn't watched him die. He only identified his body and buried him.

This, though, this he couldn't escape, this, he would not be spared from and couldn't and wouldn't run away from because the man who was dying deserved to meet death with someone who had been by his side when fate had decided to rob him of anymore time in the act of giving HIM more time on this earth. The heroic act was not lost on Steve and the man deserved his presence.

Steve was angry too. Angry at a God who would rob this man of watching his daughter grow up, to fall in love, to walk her down the aisle arm in arm. Angry that she would be without him when she went on her first date, to college, to seeing her children play with their grandfather. Angry at Danny for risking his life, sacrificing it to save his. He was angry, yes, but more at himself for not saving him. It was irrational, he knew that, but it was there nonetheless. He allowed himself the self-pity only for now. When it was all over, he would honor the man's memory by letting that anger go and live the life he had given him and more importantly, live it as honorably as Danny had. Steve would act as a poor surrogate to the daughter Danny loved with every fiber of his being and be her protector, but he would never seek to replace her father. That would be impossible and in his eyes completely unacceptable. She would only have one father.

As Steve took each step towards the room, he found his throat clog up with emotion. He found his legs trembling beneath him as if they would give under him with each step. He felt his eyes filling with tears. Pain radiated in his chest as if a vice were tightening around him, his breathing becoming difficult. When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment. A moment of cowardice gripped him, as it never had before. He didn't know if he could this, to watch a partner, a friend die, to say good-bye.

Danny had been shot 3 times in the torso. He had been without his vest because he had seen the danger Steve had been walking into and had acted first, ignoring his own safety. Steve heard Danny yell at him then the thump-thump-thump of bullets hitting a human body. It had been surreal and paralyzing at first, but Steve managed to recover enough to pull his gun and end the shooter with maximum prejudice. His hands shook as they never had holding any weapon. It had felt like he wasn't in his own body. He watched Danny crumble to the ground, arching in pain, denied merciful unconsciousness. Steve rushed over to him and heard himself scream for someone, anyone to call 911. He looked down and saw the growing blood stains on Danny's button down shirt and tie. He felt bile rise up and had to fight to keep it down. He had remembered telling Danny to stay still that help was on the way and Danny nodding, blood coming out of his mouth.

Steve took in a deep breath and willed himself to walk through the door.

Danny was hooked up to monitors and I.V.s. Oxygen was being pumped through a tube into his nostrils. Steve heard Danny's ragged breathing, punctuated with soft groans of struggle. Steve had been told that, knowing his fate, Danny had requested not to be heavily sedated or medicated. He had only wanted just enough to take the edge off the pain so that he could be lucid enough to talk and to think as clearly as possible. The doctors advised him that as his condition deteriorated, so would the pain increase. Danny understood, but felt that he could endure and if it became too much for him, he would give them the go ahead to alleviate it. It was important to him that he have the ability to control his fate and the doctors reluctantly agreed.

Steve walked over to his bedside. Danny looked ashen, his eyes bleary, his face showing the war he was waging against the pain.

"Hey," Steve said, feeling completely embarrassed at the lack of erudition in the greeting.

"Hey," Danny said back, swallowing with difficulty. "Are you okay?"

Steve couldn't believe his ears. It was because of Danny he was even alive and yet Danny had asked if he was okay, worrying that maybe Steve might have been injured in some way.

"Yeh, yeh, I'm okay. Thanks to you."

"Go ahead."

"Go ahead, what?" Steve asked puzzled at the question.

"Go…ahead…and…lecture...me…about…not…wearing a vest. I know you want to," Danny teased, breathing out each word through the pain.

Steve couldn't help, but smile for a second, but lost it immediately in the image of seeing Danny falling to the ground. Danny noticed.

"S'okay…not…your…fault…you know that, right?" Danny said.

"Danny…" Steve said his head bowed down, unable to meet Danny's eyes.

"Hey! Not…your…fault…" Danny emphasized, his face firm with conviction. "Okay?"

"Okay," Steve said softly.

Danny squeezed his eyes closed and groaned.

"Let me get the doctor, you don't have to be a tough guy –"

Danny grabbed Steve's arm weakly and shook his head.

"Not trying to be tough. Leave that stuff…to you…" Danny teased again. "Have…to…be clear-headed."

"Why?" Steve said, almost sounding like he was pleading.

"To say what needs to be said…" Danny said with a smile. "You know how I love to talk."

Again, Steve felt himself smile in spite of himself, but lost it again.

"There's nothing to say…"

"Yeh, there is. Like thanks," Danny said.

"For what?"

"For hijacking me against my will into the task force," Danny said, breathing shallowly. "Best work I've ever done…best people I've ever worked with…"

Steve was speechless.

"Also to say, I'm sorry," Danny said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone has to say they're sorry –" Steve started saying.

"Thought we covered that. Not…Your…Fault." Danny repeated. "No regrets. Wouldn't take it back if I could…part of the job. No, I'm not sorry for that, but I am sorry for driving you crazy with my rants…"

"You had cause."

"Maybe…" Danny smiled then wiped it away with another groan. "I'm also sorry for asking you for a favor…"

"Danny…" Steve tried again to protest.

"No…no…I need to say this…take care of Grace…"

"You don't have to ask, you know I will. I'll never let her forget her father."

"I'm asking you to be her father…"

Steve went wide-eyed with shock.

"No, no, Danny, you're her father…"

"Not anymore…least not where it counts…being a memory won't help her pick the right guy, won't help her get into college…won't walk her down the aisle. I don't want Stan to be her father, Steve…I need to know that she'll be loved by someone who knew me…who I'll know will fight for her, keep her from harm."

Steve saw Danny's eyes begging him and he couldn't deny him.

"Okay, Danny. I'll do those things for Grace, but I will always remind her that she had the best father."

Danny could only nod then cried out softly in pain.

"I think I need the doctor now."

"I'll get him –" Steve said.

"Steve…remember…no regrets, okay? You didn't make me stay…wanted to make a difference…you did that for me…I'm…grateful…"

"No regrets," Steve said back.

Danny closed his eyes and his breathing sputtered, wheezed then stopped. Steve watched the monitors go flat line and froze in place for a second. He stared at the peace on Danny's face for a moment then moved to a chair in the room. He sat in it and with nothing to hold them back, he allowed himself to sob. He had never sobbed for anyone. Not even for his father. And now, he couldn't stop sobbing. Maybe it was a culmination of all of those losses where he stood stoic, but he knew better. It was all for one man. A man who stood above the rest and who had taught him life lessons he hadn't learned any other way. He had taught him how to live.

FIN. Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading it in spite of it being a deathfic.