Author's Note: Standard disclaimers apply. Feedback is very welcome.

More than anything, he wanted to run. It was a feeling he'd known longer than he'd like to admit. But he'd never felt it in the middle of a show – that had always been the one place where he'd been safe. Even this past week, as he seemingly watched himself talk his way into isolation from his coworkers – his friends – he had felt okay, maybe not great, on air. And then he'd ruined that too. Big surprise.

Fight or flight, the classic response to fear. Flight, flight, flight had always been his way. Not now. He stared down at his desk, barely hearing Kelly Kirkpatrick review more Draft Day 2000 reports. Fight. Well, he'd already given that one a shot. Good job there, Danny. His hands were clasped together, and he focused on them. His knuckles were white, really white. That couldn't be good. Of course, that kind of response is to be expected after you humiliate your best friend on national television.

"...Back to you, Dan and Casey," he heard Kelly say, and he flipped the switch – he was ready with Sports Night's Dan Rydell, who was cool, collected, and ready to be adored by three million viewers. He wasn't on his best game, perhaps, but he was holding it together. Counting down the minutes til he could run. His on-air time was fast, blurry, but during the commercial breaks time seemed to freeze. He didn't say anything, even open his mouth, since he knew he could only say one thing: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He couldn't look up either; he could imagine the eyes of everyone in the control room – Dana, Natalie, Jeremy – on him, and he couldn't bear to imagine what they were thinking, what they were saying. So he continued to stare down at his knuckles. Just a little while longer.

Finally, finally, he heard Casey say the words he'd been waiting for: "You've been watching special Draft Day 2000 coverage on CSC. Good night." He smiled – more of a grimace, really – and held it 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Then he sprang out of his chair and raced across the studio. He wasn't sure if anyone tried to stop him. It seemed like an eternity before he could even tell if anyone had followed him. Then Jeremy walked into the men's room and found him curled up on the floor.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Dan said preemptively. He attempted to pull himself up, but as Jeremy faded into the bright spots before his eyes he gave up and slid back down again. God, his hands were shaking. He closed his eyes.

"Actually I think it's exactly as bad as it looks. And it was pretty bad out there, too." Jeremy paused. "Does this...happen often?"

Dan sighed, then felt dizzy and gulped for air again. "You don't have to worry about it. I know you're mad at me. I know everyone is mad at me. I know Casey...God, I don't even want to guess what Casey is thinking. I can crawl out of here on my own. I've done it before." He squinted, getting the room in focus.

Jeremy nodded slowly. "Well, here's the thing," he said. "I'm not going to deny that everyone is pretty upset. But that's about before, and this is now. So let's deal with the now, now and the before, later."

Dan thought it over. "Now, now; before, later; and later...?"

"Later is later too."

"Okay then."

"Let's get you up off the floor." Jeremy reached out and grabbed Dan's hand, giving it a pull as Dan steadied himself. "We'll get you to your office; you can lie down on the couch."

"No, the editing room," Dan said, averting his eyes briefly. "I don't want to bother Casey."

"Okay," said Jeremy, and guided Dan out.

Dan woozily walked toward the editing room, and vaguely realized that he must have been quite a sight. His skin was paler than usual, there were beads of sweat on his forehead, his tie was undone, his shirt was untucked – well, at least that last part was pretty standard. He knew the off-balance, hesitant steps he was making on his way down the hall could not go unnoticed, however. He could feel Jeremy's hand on his shoulder, gently keeping him on track. Or perhaps keeping him from running – it was hard to tell.

His head was down again, making it even harder to walk properly. But he couldn't bear the eyes, and he hated himself for that, too. You messed up, Danny, you deserve a few inquiring eyes. A few angry eyes. His head stayed down. Finally, the editing room. He fell onto the couch, closed his eyes, and ran both hands back through his hair. Jeremy closed the door behind him.

"Do you want something to drink?" Jeremy asked. "You could probably use a glass of water. Maybe some ginger ale."

"I'd like some water," Dan said, quietly. "Please. If you're going by craft services."

"Dan, do we need to review the now/before/later thing again?" He didn't say anything about the way Dan's arms had crossed reflexively across his chest, the way his hands grabbed his shoulders.

"I've got it," said Dan, and he smiled that horrible, crumpled smile again, that poor imitation of the smile Jeremy remembered – well, from too long ago. "Do you think if I stay here for a while, maybe no one will notice me?" Dan asked.

"Honestly, I don't know," said Jeremy with a trace of sadness in his voice. He gestured toward the door. "Let me go get you that water."

Jeremy exited the editing room and almost immediately fell into step with Natalie, who had been waiting outside.

"You know I hate you, Jeremy," said Natalie, "but I need to know what's going on."

Jeremy smiled. "Nice to see you, too." Natalie shot him an impatient look. "Okay, Dan's in editing, as I guess you noticed. He's having some sort of nervous...thing."

"A nervous thing, Jeremy?"

"Well, I don't want to call it a breakdown, per se, but it's definitely something."

"It's not about golf?"

"It's not about golf."

"Okay, we need to meet in Isaac's office. He and Dana are waiting."

"I told Dan I'd get him a glass of water."

"I'll do that. You go tell them what you told me."

Dan heard a tentative knock on the door, and then Natalie entered the editing room.

"I'm really sorry, Natalie," Dan said, speaking quickly. "I was mad at Casey – I was mad at everyone, really." He sat up as he kept speaking, as he felt ridiculous apologizing while sprawled out on the couch. "I wanted to...hurt him. And then I did. And then, of course, I realized how stupid I was. How quickly I'm able to ruin good things. And I can't even begin..."

Natalie interrupted him. "Jeremy said you could use some water." She handed it over and gave him an appraising look. "You look like hell, Danny."

Dan gave a short, mirthless little laugh. "Yeah. Thanks. But you shouldn't be taking care of me, you know? I've been acting like a total jackass. I think I may be, in fact, a total jackass. I'll have to run that theory by my therapist." He paused. "They're having a meeting, right, everyone's having a meeting. The 'What The Hell Are We Going To Do With Danny?' meeting. He fought to keep the bitterness out of his voice – he knew everyone had heard enough of that – but without the anger his voice sounded sad, desperate. "You should go to that, you should leave me. I'll take a nap. I think I'll just sleep it all off." The thought of Casey immediately popped into his head, the problem that was going to take a great deal more than a good night's sleep to resolve. His head began to pound, and he lay back on the couch. "I'm just going to do that right now. You'll come back and tell me if I'm fired, right?" He gave a tight smile.

"What are you doing?" Natalie asked.

"What?"

"What are you doing with your mouth?"

"I'm...smiling."

Natalie gave him another once-over. "It needs work." She sat down on one of the chairs. "Jeremy has this way he deals with things, in situations like this. You can't change what happened in the studio, so focus on the now, now..."

"And the before, later. And the later, later still. He explained it to me."

"Well, it doesn't seem like you were listening. Drink your water and see if you can sit up for more than a minute, okay Dan?"

"I'll do my best."

"Good. Someone'll come check on you in a few." She stood up. She was glad he had closed his eyes again. She couldn't remember if she'd ever seen that much pain in someone's face.

Everything was quiet in Isaac's office when Natalie entered. Isaac was sitting behind his desk, and Dana was standing beside him. Jeremy was sitting in one of the chairs in front of Isaac's desk, and Natalie seated herself in the other. Casey was perched near the window, looking out onto the city lights. Everyone seemed lost in thought, so Natalie broke the silence.

"I just brought him a glass of water."

"What, no chicken soup?" asked Casey sarcastically.

"Casey, I..." Natalie started.

"Casey, Dan is not well," Jeremy said simultaneously. "This is not just some hissy fit about golf."

"I know it's not just about golf, Jeremy," Casey said. "I've known Dan for more than ten years and in that time I've found him to be a pretty moody guy. He has his problems, so do we all. But he knows better than to behave as childishly as he did this evening, and I think it's ridiculous that he's being coddled instead of joining us in this meeting like an adult."

"Or hey, I have an idea, Casey," Jeremy said, his frustration quickly mounting. "Maybe we should have had this meeting in the men's room, considering that's where I found Dan about ten minutes ago, lying on the floor on the verge of passing out. But I'm sure he was just being a baby about it."

Casey gave Jeremy a dark look, but said nothing. Instead it was Dana who spoke up. "Is that true Jeremy? That's not exactly how you put it before."

"I was trying to spare Dan a little bit of dignity, but apparently that's not going to work."

"He can barely sit up, Dana," said Natalie.

Isaac had been watching this exchange intently, his face grave. "As difficult as it might be to believe," he finally said, "I have always been under the impression that what is going on in the personal lives of this staff should stay out of the studio. It certainly should not be broadcast on our show. I don't know what you and Dan have been fighting about, Casey, and I don't want to know. But if you, especially, have anything constructive to offer to resolve this situation, I'm all ears."

Casey sighed. "I don't know. He doesn't tell me very much, not nearly as much as you might think. Especially recently. A year ago, no one would have had to tell him that the show is more important than a golf game. He was the one lecturing me about the importance of teamwork, after everything that was going on with Lisa. So, in short – no, I don't know. I do know that I'm tired, we're all tired, and I think we should get him in here and see what he intends to do about his attitude."

"He's in therapy, Casey," said Dana.

"And what, so then it's okay to let him hijack the show so that he can punish me? I can't believe you're going to excuse that, Dana."

"I'm not just going to excuse that, Casey, so don't presume you know what I'm thinking," Dana snapped. "We all get a breather tomorrow, and I think we should look into getting a sub for Monday night." She turned to Isaac. "Does that sound like a good start?"

"Yes, I think that will help. But I think Casey's right, too, in that if I know Daniel, he's going to want to start apologizing. He already seems to feel guilty most of the time anyway," he mused. "But I digress. Jeremy, go check on him, see if he can come see us."

Jeremy nodded, then stood up and left.

"Natalie, try getting Bobbi Bernstein on the phone for Monday night, okay?" Dana asked.

"I'm on it," said Natalie, and headed out to her desk.

Isaac got up to pour himself a drink, and Dana walked over to Casey.

"Casey," Dana said quietly, "When Dan gets in here, I think it would be useful to remind yourself of all the shows he carried you through last year. I know that was a tough time for you – it was a tough time for me, too, because of the network, but Dan really stepped up to the plate."

"I may have been a little out of it, Dana, but I never did anything like Dan did tonight."

"I know, Casey, just...keep it in mind, will you?"

Casey didn't reply, and the room lapsed into quiet once more.

When Jeremy entered the editing room, Dan had his eyes closed, but he was singing under his breath. The song trailed off as Jeremy walked over to sit in the chair that Natalie had abandoned earlier. "Tom Waits?" he asked.

Dan opened his eyes, and Jeremy saw the slightest hint of mischief in them. "Everyone always assumes I'm singing Tom Waits. I'm familiar with other artists, you know. I actually have quite a broad knowledge of music, popular and otherwise."

"So who was that?" Jeremy asked.

"That was Mr. Tom Waits."

"Ah," said Jeremy. A pause.

"Say, Jeremy," Dan began, looking up at the ceiling. "When you found me earlier, you asked...if this sort of thing happened often." He rested his eyes on Jeremy again. "What made you think that?"

Jeremy thought for a second. "I guess it was mostly the Yevgeny Kafelnikov thing."

"Ah, yes. Good old Yg- Yg-... I really can't say that man's name right now."

"It's a tough name," Jeremy said. "The way you left the room that day, you looked the same way you did when you left the studio tonight. You looked anxious. Panicky. It reminded me of a more extreme version of how I used to get before debate tournaments in high school. You know, butterflies in the stomach. Pacing. That sort of thing. Except you actually ran."

Dan nodded. "I do that sometimes." He paused. "Is it time to face the music?"

"If you're up for it."

"I'll give it a try." He got up to his feet and almost fell down again. "Still a little lightheaded, I guess." He let Jeremy steady him again, and they slowly made their way to Isaac's office. Dan made an effort to look up. It didn't hurt that there was hardly anyone to meet his eyes this time around.
They arrived at Isaac's office. Jeremy put his hand on the door, but Dan stopped him.

"I'm guessing people in there aren't working on the 'now, now' theory, are they?"

"Somewhat yes, somewhat no. Casey definitely is not."

"I like it – 'now, now.' It's soothing, you know?"

"I know," said Jeremy, and opened the door.

Jeremy guided Dan to a chair, and both Dana and Isaac watched with concern in their eyes. Casey was gazing out the window again, and didn't acknowledge Dan and Jeremy's entrance.

"Jeremy, why don't you go help Natalie?" Isaac suggested. Jeremy knew Natalie didn't really need any help, nor did he desire to spend much time with her right now because of the Jenny situation that afternoon. He did, however, welcome the opportunity to excuse himself from what was obviously going to be a tense meeting.

He nodded. "I'll see you all...later," he added, lamely. The door was shut again. Silence.

"Dan, you look like a mess," Isaac said. "When were you planning on telling us that you're not up to doing the show?"

"I'm okay to do the show," Dan said quietly, but even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"That was not in evidence tonight, Daniel."

"I'll be fine," Dan said, quieter still. Dana looked at him thoughtfully.

"Oh yeah, just fine, Danny," said Casey sharply. "It's clear everything is just ship-shape in your head."

Dana looked at Casey beseechingly. All she needed was for her anchors to go at it again. When she looked back at Dan, he looked as though he had just had the wind knocked out of him. She almost couldn't bear to meet his dark eyes. When Dan spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion, just the way it had sounded in her headset when he had first apologized to Casey earlier that evening.

"I'm sorry, Casey. I know it's not enough, but I'm really, truly, sorry." Dana noticed the way his hands were trembling in his lap. Dan caught her stare and moved his hands to grip the arms of his chair. "And I'm sorry for how my actions tonight affected everyone. I was unprofessional and, worse still, I betrayed your trust. When you hired me," he said, looking to Isaac, "You were hiring someone who was reliable, who was responsible, and who cared about Sports Night. I haven't done a very good job of being that person lately. I've been a real jerk, and I understand if you want to suspend me." His voice had been steady, but there was a catch in it as he finished.

"We're not suspending you, Dan," said Dana, "though we think you could use a little time to collect yourself. We're trying to get Bobbi Bernstein for Monday; that would give you two days to rest up." Her voice became a bit more authoritative. "But you understand, Dan, that I don't care what it takes, this absolutely cannot happen again. We simply can't afford it – not ever, and especially not now." Dan nodded soberly. "Anyone else have anything to add," Dana asked. Casey didn't react.

"I'm going to call Jeremy to have him take you home," said Isaac.

"I can get home, Isaac," Dan said, the tight smile on his lips not reaching his eyes. "I might go take a nap first," he added.

"Take a nap at home, Daniel. I'm calling Jeremy."

This time Dan didn't argue, just listened as Isaac made arrangements for Jeremy to come back to his office. Not thirty seconds later, Jeremy arrived bearing Dan's jacket.

"It's chilly out," he said, as he handed it to Dan. "We've got Bobbi for Monday," he said to everyone else. Dana nodded.

"Ready, Dan?" asked Jeremy. "I'll even spring for a cab." He was relieved when Dan acknowledged the gesture with a small, careful smile.

Dan stood up, and both Dana and Isaac noticed that he didn't seem much steadier. Thank God for Bobbi Bernstein, Dana thought.

With some care, Dan put on his jacket. "See you Tuesday," he said awkwardly. He was speaking to everyone, but looking only at Casey. The only one who didn't reply. Dan began his hesitant walk again, and he and Jeremy left the office.

Casey was in his office – their office – gathering up his things to go home when Dana walked in. She sat down in Dan's chair, but didn't say anything.

"What's going on, Dana?" he asked.

"Earlier this evening," she said, "when Dan – when it first happened...you knew how to comfort him, you got him up to speed in thirty. And I know he hurt you, Casey, I know he hurt you badly. But you were still ready to help him." She stopped to collect her thoughts. "And I just found it so remarkable, you know, that you knew what to do – what was best for Dan, what was best for the show. That's very important, Casey." Another pause – a longer one. "Remember what you told me when Kyle was in trouble? About being a sister? I think Dan needs you to be his friend. What he's dealing with is bigger than you or what happened tonight. He needs you to be his friend, as soon as you can." She stood up. "That's all," she said, and moved to leave.

"Dana," Casey said. "It's going to take a little time."

"I know. But you're going to be watching out for him, right?"

"Yeah." Casey nodded. "Yeah."

Dan stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, watching as his breath hit the cold air. Jeremy was attempting to hail a cab, but had hit a streak of bad luck.

"Everyone needs a cab tonight, apparently," Jeremy said. He looked over at Dan. "Aren't you important enough to get a car from the network?"

There it was again, the good smile – small, but true. "I'm not terribly well-liked, you know," Dan said wryly.

Jeremy gave a short laugh. "Right."

"Dan, Jeremy," Dana said, approaching them from the building. "I have something for you, Dan. It's not quite wine and spackle, but..." She handed him an 'I Survived Draft Day' t-shirt.

"Dana, I should be the one giving peace offerings." He took the shirt. "I'm really sorry about what I said earlier. This is a very nice shirt." He rubbed his fingers on it. "Very soft."

"I know!" said Dana brightly. Then her tone turned slightly more serious. "Take care of yourself, Dan. You better be looking like a million bucks on Tuesday. We can't afford to pay Alyson overtime."

"I'm going to do better – to be better, Dana. I am."

"I have faith in you, Dan. It'll be okay." She looked at Jeremy's outstretched hand. "Can't two guys – one a producer on the third-ranked 11 o'clock sports show in the country, for crying out loud – get a lousy cab?" She stepped out on the curb and put her hand out alongside Jeremy's. As if by magic, a cab pulled in front of the building seconds later.

Dana smiled. "There you go, boys. Get him home safely, Jeremy."

"Will do," said Jeremy, and gave a little salute. Dana waved, and her smile faded as they drove off. She touched the bandage on her face absentmindedly. She couldn't imagine why she'd been so stressed. She turned and walked slowly back to the building.

Dan was lying in his bed. He was sleepier than he might have expected, considering how early it was. His mind was wandering. He thought back to the bed he'd had when he was a little boy, the one with the baseball-patterned sheets. He used to have nightmares sometimes – not infrequently, really. He'd try to be brave when he woke up. After all, he was a big brother and he didn't want to look like a wimp. But sometimes it was too much for him, and he'd race down the hall until he reached his parents' room. The he'd stand on his mom's side of the bed, nudging her gently until she woke up.

Dan's mom would always lead him back to his bedroom and tuck him back in. Sometimes she'd sing lullabies. And she would always stroke his head, smoothing down his hair as she comforted him: "Now, now, Daniel. There, there. It was just a bad dream."

The night of Sam's funeral, Dan was back in his old bed – having just left for college, and back home much sooner than he had expected. He had hoped that his mother would have sensed how much he needed someone that night, would have come in and treated it just like she used to treat his nightmares. Of course, it wasn't just a bad dream this time. She never came. Dan wasn't sure if she hadn't wanted to see him or if it simply didn't occur to her that her grown-up son wanted to be tucked in. Either way, he didn't blame her.

He felt that way again tonight. He just needed someone to tell him it was all going to be okay. He wished he could call his mom, but he knew his dad already thought he was a head case as it was. Tonight he was going to have to be brave again. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought about tennis and rainy days, golf and Tom Waits , and football and soft t-shirts. He thought about more days ahead with Natalie and Jeremy, Dana and Isaac, Kim and Elliott, Will, Chris, and Dave. With Casey. It was all going to be okay. Now, now. There, there.