Sucker Punched

A WaT Fanfic by Smartybear

Setting: Season 6

Summary: Martin knows. Very short, One shot, M/D friendship, Martin Angst.


A whiff of stale smoke and the drone of muted conversations met Danny as he entered the bar. It was an odd place for Martin to call a meet given their common history of substance abuse. Obviously whatever Martin had wanted to talk about didn't fall under the category of coffee-shop bonding. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, it was easy enough to find Martin. He was sitting on a high stool at the counter, staring into a glass of scotch on the rocks, watching the ice clink against the sides of the glass.

Danny remembered the last time they had been at this particular dive. It had been when they were celebrating Vivian's supposed promotion… had it been that long ago? So much had happened since then. None was probably more changed than his friend at the counter, contemplating his drink.

"Hey, man." Danny tapped Martin's shoulder in greeting, and Martin turned to him with a wan smile.

"Hey. Thanks for coming."

"What are friends for?" Danny retorted, pulling a chair and sitting beside Martin. "I'm really just missing a really hot date with my really hot chica – Sophie. I was going to teach her to play poker tonight, but she understands I have to spread myself around."

"I'm sorry about that," Martin replied, his voice dull. Danny was worried when his friend could not even muster a smirk. "I tried calling Ed, but he's in Maine visiting his daughter in college, and you were the only other person I knew I could call."

"As I said, man, what are friends for," he said, frowning at the scotch in front of Martin thoughtfully. Martin had been the poster boy for clean for a year now, and the thought that he could have relapsed was breaking Danny's heart . "How many have you had?"

"None," Martin said curtly, drawing circles with the glass on the table as he watched the amber liquid swirling inside the glass. "None, but I sure as hell wish I could down this one right now. And a couple more after it."

"Martin…"

"Sam's pregnant."

The terse statement cut off whatever Danny was planning to say. After a long pause, he cautiously ventured, "She told you?"

"No," he bit out. A flash of temper crossed Martin's face, mingled with what was unmistakably misery. "I'm an FBI agent, Danny. I have eyes and, thankfully, despite everything I still have a pretty sharp brain in between my ears."

"How did you find out?"

"I figured it out for myself this morning, when Elena was on her case to stay away from the coffee pot – but there were so many other little things before that. Maybe I just didn't want to see it," Martin said. He took his hand away from the glass and pressed his fingers against closed eyelids. "Did she tell you?"

Danny slowly shook his head. "No… I guessed it after Elena reacted to a comment I made," he admitted. "I'm sorry, I wasn't sure if Sam was okay with letting people know."

At that Martin laughed, but it was tinged with bitterness. "You don't have to explain to me, man, I know all about Sam and her need for secrets."

Danny kept his silence, knowing that in situations like these it was better to just shut up and listen. But it didn't take much to tell that Martin was bleeding, even as he refused to meet Danny's eyes and kept them fixed on his one drink.

"The funny thing is this really isn't any of my business," Martin finally said with a sigh. "Hell, we were over a long time ago. And I'm telling myself over and over that this isn't worth tossing this drink down over, but, man – I really would give anything to have a good drunk right about now."

"If it's not supposed to be any of your business, why are we even here?" Danny asks wryly.

"Because I'm all kinds of fool rolled into one," Martin said softly, still avoiding his friend's gaze. After a long, awkward beat, he looked at Danny head on, and with an edge in his voice, he asked, "Whose is it? Did she tell you?"

Danny was surprised by Martin's intensity but was agent enough not to let it show. It made Danny wonder who it was Martin had feared fathered the baby and why it mattered so much. "Elena says it's no one we know."

"I see," Martin said slowly, some of the tension visibly seeping out of him. "Well, that's better than… never mind. It isn't any of my business anymore. But, hell, I didn't expect to feel this way."

"What way?" Danny asked, not bothering to point out to Martin that he wasn't making much sense. He just needed to get all of this out his system, and Danny had to get him out of here before he gave in to the urge to down his first drink.

"Suckerpunched," Martin said fiercely, frustration etched all over his features. "I feel goddamn suckerpunched."

"You said it, man, you were over years ago," Danny pointed out after a long, pregnant lull.

"Do you think I don't know that? I didn't know I could still hurt this way because of her," Martin said. The motion of the glass stopped abruptly, and some of the amber liquid splashed on his hand. The stench of the spilled alcohol permeated the space between them, the bittersweet smell a counterpoint to Martin's obvious pain.

"When I realized this morning that she was carrying some other man's child, I felt like something big and hard had hit me right in the gut, and that feeling hasn't gone away."

"You were the one who ended it with her," Danny said softly.

"I couldn't end something that never began in the first place," Martin said wearily as he cradled his head between his hands. "She never let it. I was so fucking in love with her. I thought she was the one, but she always held me an arm's length away. I had to end it or risk losing my sanity."

Danny said nothing. In all these years, neither Sam nor Martin had ever told the rest of the team the reason behind their break up. It was a relief to all of them that after the first few weeks of awkwardness, after Martin had come back from the shooting, they had eventually found their footing around one another. Apparently, Martin's feelings for Sam had run much deeper than any of them had guessed. And judging by his reaction to the news, those feelings didn't run that far beneath the surface.

"God, I could really use this drink right now."

"And then what?" Danny asked, taking hold of the glass and drawing it away from Martin. "You take this drink and the next and the next until you're drunk enough to forget, but you wake up tomorrow, nothing is going to be different. Are you going to spend the next few days in a swimming in Scotch until the pain goes away? Because it's not going to go away that way, man."

Martin kept his head cradled between his hands in defeat, staring at the circles of water he had made on the countertop. "You're right," he finally said, his voice so soft Danny almost didn't hear him above the din. "Nothing can make the pain go away if I don't deal with it head on."

Danny waved to the bartender and pulled a bill from his wallet to cover the Scotch. "Tell you what, I'll call Elena and let her know I'm coming to dinner after all – and that you're coming with me," he said, clambering off the barstool. "Sophie will get a kick out of having you over to help her with her homework in the study – and I will get a kick out of sparking with Sophie's mama on the couch."

When Martin didn't reply at once, Danny thought he wasn't going for the idea - but Danny had no plans on leaving him alone in this state. He took it as a good sign that Martin hadn't reach for his drink again. Still, it felt like a terribly long time before he spoke again as he silently struggled with his demons. The bartender had come and gone with Danny's change before Martin finally met Danny's eyes with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, a dark, stormy blue.

"Maybe that's not such a bad idea. Only… maybe you should help with the homework and I should do the sparking on the couch?"

Danny raised one supercilious brow in response, while sighing inwardly with relief that he had won - for the moment. "Bro, you're my friend, but you're not that good a friend of mine," Danny replied dryly, drawing a reluctant grin from his teammate. "Good try, though. Couldn't have done it better myself."

Danny placed the call to Elena before Martin could change his mind, and she was more than happy to have the two of them come to supper. He watched as Martin picked up his jacket from the stool next to him and shrugged it on. "So, Marty," Danny asked cautiously as they walked through the bar, "What are you going to do now? Are you going to let her know you know?"

Danny thought that Martin hadn't heard his question, when Martin suddenly replied, "No, I'm not." His tone was self-depreciating and held a tinge of bitterness.

As they emerged from the bar unto the sidewalk, Danny saw Martin pause and look around him. He had a wistful look on his face, as if he were reliving a distant memory. After the few moments it took to pull himself away from his thoughts, he met Danny's curious eyes and Danny caught one last glimpse of his sadness there before his face became shuttered and closed.

"I'm going to feign ignorance and pretend that I don't see. And when I 'know' I'm going to pretend it doesn't matter. After all these years, I've become a master in pretending."

Danny shook his head, hurting for him but not quite knowing how to comfort him. He knew that had their places been reversed, he would be reeling too. "You know, man, you never have to pretend around me," Danny said.

After a long pause, Martin nodded curtly. "I know."

"Good. Come on, then, let's have dinner."

But as they walked in heavy silence the few blocks to Elena's, Danny couldn't help but worry that he had only averted disaster temporarily. There would be difficult days for Martin ahead, and it was likely to get much worse before it got better for him. He could only hope he was not right.

- end -