"Hey Danno, you in there?"
Danny leans against his car. He is both blessed and cursed with a cop's eye. Blessed because they help save lives and take dangerous criminals off the street. Cursed because he sees everything, even things he doesn't want to see.
"C'mon, open the door."
He watches as a large and expensive vehicle pulls up at the car park and eases into an empty slot. The engine cuts and a door swings open. A little girl bounds out, her his blonde hair tied into two neat pigtails. Two other doors swing open and out step a Stan and Rachel. This is Danny's worse nightmare come to life.
"You've been missing for days."
The couple steps towards the backseat of the car and Rachel pulls out a picnic basket. The little girl reaches in and pulls out a pail filled with spades and moulds meant for her to play in the sand with. Stan walks over to the little girl who slips her hand in his. Danny closes his eyes. He does not realize that he is trembling.
"We've been scared shitless."
The little girl Grace smiles up at the man, trust in her eyes. She flashes him a brilliant grin that reaches her eyes and he smiles back at her. Danny feels something in him shrivel. He takes a step forward, tears tracking themselves involuntarily down his face. This is what he always wanted. Grace was happy. Grace was safe. But why did it hurt so much?
"I don't know what's going on, but you gotta talk to me, Danno."
Danny falls back against his car and runs a shaking hand down his face. He feels like the world is off-kilter, like he is moving through a fog. He watches always only watching as Grace breaks away from Stan and wanders down the beach, calling for her parents to hurry. He is not a permanent fixture in her life. He never was. His job was too dangerous, his need to serve and protect too overpowering.
"Is it about Grace? Something's been eating at you since she was taken."
Everything was about Grace.
"I'm gonna kick down the door if you don't let me in."
He was standing on the outside again, watching, watching, as his Grace was taken from him. She no longer needed him. He could not protect her, not the way he wanted to.
"Danny, please. Grace needs her Danno. She's desperate to see you."
Danny snaps out of it.
He blinks and takes in his surroundings. He is in a sprawled out on the bed in a tiny motel room, a warm bottle of beer dangling from his loose grasp. The smell of alcohol and vomit is thick in the air. He is staring up at the ceiling fan, tracing its lazy spirals with eyes that can barely focus. He groans as he sits up and drops his beer. His head is swimming, the buzz of too much alcohol dulling his senses and causing his stomach to churn. He swings his legs off the bed and is vaguely aware of the clink of too many bottles strewn across the floor.
"Grace," he whispers hoarsely as he propels himself to his feet and slams bodily into the door. The wood rattles but does not give.
"Danno?" came a voice from the other side. Danny fumbles with the door knob, twisting it this way and that before realizing that is was locked. His clumsy fingers feel fat and bloated as he pries the bolt back. The door almost smacks into his face as it swings open. Danny stumbles backwards and crashes into the bed.
Steve is standing there in all his SEAL glory, face pinched with worry and anger. It melts away into sadness and concern when he takes in the mess.
"Oh Danno," he says. He steps forward and hauls his best friend up and onto the bed.
"S'eve?" Danny slurs as he squints at Steve's face.
"Yeah," Steve replies as he collects Danny's tie from where he had tossed it on the floor.
"Whatcha doin' here?"
Steve folds the tie neatly and sticks it into one of his many pockets.
"Taking you home. C'mon."
Danny curls in on himself and presses back into the bed.
"Don't wanna," he mutters. "Grace doesn't need me."
Steve's brow furrows as he reaches forward and bodily drags his partner to his feet.
"Grace will always need you," Steve says fiercely. "Not now, I suppose, when you've gotten yourself into this mess."
Danny closes his eyes.
"She's safer without me."
Steve drapes one of Danny's arms over his shoulders and slowly maneuvers them towards the door.
"You know that's not true," he says, huffing a little under Danny's weight.
"It is," Danny insists.
Steve sighs.
"We'll figure it out when we get home, buddy. I promise you."
Danny says nothing. Steve loads Danny into the truck and locks the door before jogging over to the office. He apologizes profusely for the mess, pays for the room and throws in more than extra for the clean-up. When he returns to the truck, Danny is passed out in passenger seat, the picture of Grace from his wallet clasped loosely in his hands.
Steve runs a hand down his face.
Grace's kidnapping is still raw in his mind, Danny's worry and anxiety rubbing off on him. For a week and a half after she'd been taken and rescued, Danny couldn't sit still, couldn't do anything without making a mistake or another. Then, a phone call from Grace came and Danny was off the radar for three days.
Steve slips into the driver's seat and closes the door. He sticks the key into the ignition and turns. He does not know what he is going to do next to help his best friend, but he vows to make it better nonetheless.
After all, Danny deserves his Grace as much as everyone else deserves theirs.