on the corner of main street, just trying to keep it in line. (csi: new york)
flack/danny; angst; meme response
Don knows this city, knows what it can do to a man
written for melliyna. title from the killers' read my mind. no copyright infringement intended.
--
what ravages of spirit conjured this tempestuous rage
created you a monster broken by the rules of love?
and fate has led you through it, you do what you have to do
I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go
--
Don knows this city, knows what it can do to a man, and he's tired of watching people fall apart around him. It's the height of the buildings, he thinks, the lack of light on the sidewalks, and the straight, straight roads that promise simplicity and deliver suffocating order. The order is illusory, of course, organised chaos. But what can he do? He loves this city. Danny loves this city.
It's a downwards spiral. Danny gets up, gets knocked down, gets up again for the next hit. One thing after the next, with no relief in sight. Don wants to shake him head to foot, wants to throw him up against a wall and smack him back into focus. But there he is, eyes glazed and angry, so aimlessly angry, and he's shaking, too, with too much drink and too little sleep or food. He raises his fists, his voice; he trips over himself, and Don has to catch him, push him upright again.
Come on, he says, time to go home, come on, and Danny grips his arm with surprising force as the two of them make to stand like one man. That's going to bruise, Don thinks, and, goddamn, Danny, what the hell, and they grapple like that, struggling to the door, all body and no comfort.
end.