Danny's head wouldn't stop pounding. He groaned, burying himself under the covers as he tried to go back to sleep. But the pounding continued, making him want to scream in frustration.
It was just as the noise stopped that Danny realized he hadn't had anything to drink the night before, which meant that he couldn't be hungover, and there was no reason for his head to be pounding. Frowning, he slowly opened his eyes and looked around.
"Get up."
Danny reached over to his nightstand, fumbling until he finally found his glasses. When he got them on, his frown deepened as he realized that Flack was standing in his bedroom.
"What the hell?" he mumbled.
"Get up."
"What the hell for?"
Don sighed. "We're going running."
Danny stared at him in disbelief for a minute before shaking his head and burrowing back under the covers, his glasses tossed back onto the nightstand. "Like hell we are," he muttered.
Flack glared at his friend for a few moments. Then he reached down and yanked the covers off of him.
"Get your lazy ass out of bed, Messer," he said, raising his voice. "Or I'll tip the mattress and dump ya out."
Danny looked over at the clock. "It's fuckin' five in the morning, Flack! I don't know about you, but I happen to like my bed!"
"Messer, I swear to God I will drag you outside kicking and screaming. So get up and put some fucking clothes on."
Danny wanted to keep arguing, but there was something in Flack's tone that made him keep his mouth shut. Wiping the rest of the sleep out of his eyes, he got out of bed, grabbing some clothes out of his dresser before stumbling into the bathroom.
While he was gone, Flack moved through the apartment slowly. He saw, with a hint of disgust and sympathy, that Danny's place was trashed. Empty take-out containers and beer bottles littered the table and counter, and clothes were strewn everywhere. Don sighed - he had had enough breakdowns of his own to recognize a downward spiral when he saw one.
The door behind him opened, and he turned to see Danny coming down the hall. He was wearing shorts and a long-sleeved t-shirt, along with a wary expression on his face.
"Alright, I'm dressed. Ya happy now, ya sleep nazi?"
Flack rolled his eyes. "Let's go."
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"It's fuckin' cold out," Danny complained.
"Cry me a river."
"What the hell is your problem, man?"
"You are?"
"Me? What did I do?"
Flack increased their pace slightly, forcing Danny to keep up with him if he wanted to hear his answer. He also took some satisfaction from the pained expression on his friend's face, and the way his breathing became more labored.
"You're fucking up, Messer," he finally said. "And you're doin' it in a big way."
Watching him out fo the corner of his eye, Don saw the C.S.I.s expression tighten."
"I don't know what you're talkin' about."
"Like hell, Messer. Ever since the Sandavall kid died, you been pullin' away, keepin' everybody at a distance."
"I'm dealin -"
Flack shook his head. "No, Danny. You're doin' a lot of things, but dealin' ain't one of 'em."
"So that's what this is, then?" Danny asked. "You wanted to tell me what a big fuck-up I am?"
"That," Don agreed. "And to ask ya how long you're gonna keep this shit up. 'Cause if ya do it long enough, you're gonna be single again."
Danny stopped suddenly, staring at his friend. Flack stopped too, wondering if his words might actually be getting through.
"What the hell does that mean?" Danny asked.
"You know what I'm talkin' about, Dan. How long do you expect Lindsay to stay when ya barely talk to her? Even Mac's startin' to ask questions. Because that light in her eyes, that thing that we all love about Monroe, is almost gone. You're killin' her, Danny."
"That's exactly why she should get out now!" he exclaimed, his lip quivering and his eyes full of pain. "Before I can drag her down with all of my shit! She could never understand -"
Flack's eyes narrowed just before his fist lashed out, popping Danny in the jaw. The C.S.I. fell back onto the ground, his hand flying to his mouth.
"Is that what this is Messer!?" Don yelled. "You think Monroe deserves better, so you're just gonna fuck up until she walks away? You're a fuckin' idiot!" He breathed deeply, pointing his finger at his friend. "And what exactly wouldn't she understand? Feeling responsible for the death of someone she cared about? Feeling guilty? Wishing she could die instead of them? Right - she's never gone through anything like that." Shaking his head in disgust, he stared at Danny for a moment before reaching down a hand. "C'mon, get up."
Still holding his jaw, Danny took the hand and stood up. He and Flack locked gazes, and Don wondered if the other man was going to hit him back. Instead, Danny turned and started to jog again.
They ran for a long time in silence. Don had already said everything he'd meant to. He supposed he could threaten his friend, but he wanted Messer to stop being an ass for a reason other than the threat of violence.
"Rikki tried to kiss me."
This time it was Flack who stopped dead in his tracks. Danny stopped as well, and the detective stared at him warily.
"Excuse me?"
Danny looked down at the ground. "You heard me, Flack. Don't make me say it again."
"You said she tried. How far did she get?"
He shrugged uncomfortably. "Her lips touched mine."
Flack hissed. "Is that all that touched?"
Danny's head snapped up, and he thrust his finger into his friend's chest. "Hey! I put a stop to it right then and there! I haven't said a word to her since. I'm not that fuckin' stupid, Flack."
Don watched him closely, as though trying to gauge his level of honesty. Then he turned and started running again, leaving Danny no choice but to follow. They went for another ten minutes without speaking, until Danny suddenly realized where they were. Slowing down, he stared around in confusion.
"Hey. What're we doin' at Montana's?"
Flack slowed to a walk, and then turned to face him. "What day is it?"
Danny frowned. "Day? It's Tuesday -" His eyes narrowed. "You bastard! I have today off!"
Don smirked. "So does Monroe. So why don't you go on upstairs and beg her to let ya back in her bed?"
Danny's anger dissipated, and he looked scared. "What if I'm too late?" he asked quietly.
"You're close, but ya still got a change. Now get up there before I kick your ass and tell Monroe that she shouldn't even give ya the time of day."
Danny nodded, moving towards the door. "Thanks, Flack."
"Hey Danny!" When the C.S.I. stopped, he looked at him seriously. "You have to move out of there. If you want things to work with Lindsay, you can't be anywhere near Ruben's mom."
Slowly, Danny nodded. "I know. Don't suppose you know of any good apartments for rent?"
Don smiled, pulling a card out of the pocket of his shorts. "It's a block away from here. Told 'em you'd call this afternoon."
Danny took the card, staring at it. Then he looked up at his friend, extending his right hand. "Thanks, Don."
He shook his hand before starting his jog again. "Go sleep with your girlfriend, Messer! I'll be back at five tomorrow to wake your ass up again!" he called over his shoulder.
Danny nodded his agreement and then turned back to the building in front of him. Without looking back, he walked up the steps, pressing the buzzer for Lindsay's apartment.
