A /N - Just want to say that this and the other FE fic was wriitten before we had decided on a name for Maden, however that's changed since then.
He would often lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and counting the minutes as they passed by. Maden would be asleep by then, his arms wrapped around Dan and drawing him into a safe, warm embrace. Those arms were his only refuge but sometimes not even they were enough to ward off his demons. Those were the nights when Dan would be awake, his body tensing at every noise and eyes darting around the room until he was sure there was nothing there.
Eventually he'll gently break away from Maden, on occasion placing a kiss on the doctor's forehead if he thinks about it, then he'll slip off into the hallway. There he would stand silently for a few moments, watching a spot by the bathroom door before walking into their living room. He would sit on the couch; his hands folded in front of him and stay there for hours. His voice would echo softly against the walls, the name of the son that had never been and the wife who had so suddenly left, spilling freely from his lips as he chatted with the air beside him.
He would mutter out apologies to them both, saying that it was his fault, that he could have been stronger for Diana, done something for Gabriel. Sometimes the focus was the sleeping doctor in the other room, why was he still there, did Dan love him more than he loved Diana or Gabriel? The topics of conversation varied but the conversations themselves were always one-sided.
In the end Dan would wind up talking the night away, forcing himself to move from the couch only because he was sure that something needed cleaning. The voices would follow, whispering in his ear all the things he did wrong, all the things he could be doing, all the reasons why he didn't deserve anything at all. Then things would change, they would say how much they loved him, how much they missed him, how good and kind he was. It was then that Dan would clean. He would clean so much that he wouldn't sleep for days. His fingers would become raw and bloody from scrubbing and scraping at this or that and his body would tremble in the way that could only be brought on by sheer exhaustion.
Dan would be doing something normal, making coffee, straightening the bookshelf, and he would fall. Sometimes it would be a faint, his body finally giving in and letting him get rest, and sometimes it would be tears. They would flow freely at that point, his defenses worn down to nothing by that point. Maden or Natalie would find him then, curled up on the kitchen floor or carpet. They would try and pull him away, sometimes noting that he felt lighter, because on these days it was rare that Dan would allow himself to eat anything, and into a bed.
There he would stay for the rest of the day, sometimes sleeping a fitful and frightening sleep but other times he'd just lie in bed, staring at the ceiling and counting the minutes as the passed by.