Set After: 'Shadows' Season 2
Okay, this piece came about because I spent the whole episode waiting for even a glimpse of Danny, never mind him turning up (on horseback if possible) as a white knight to sweep Martin off his feet and save him from tragedy and heartbreak.
As always, the shows are not mine
I've Got You
Sam wrapped her arms around Martin, feeling him collapse on her shoulder. It was 1am on an Intensive Care ward and all she could think about was whether she could risk kissing him; under the circumstances.
She was still in the process of deciding when Martin sat back up, wiped a hand over his tired face and asked her if there was any possibility she could drop him off at Danny's apartment.
He insisted that she go home and get some sleep and, after watching him disappear up the stairs, she drove off a little forlornly; wondering why he had called her in the first place if he was now turning to someone else.
Martin was wondering the same thing as he rang the doorbell, for the second Sam had held him he had known that all he wanted was Danny.
Which was disturbing but he didn't care.
Danny opened the door, a little sleepy in his eyes, stripped down to his long pyjama bottoms. His face washed over with concern when he saw the state of Martin, but Martin's features visibly relaxed as he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around the other man's waist and rested his head on his shoulder. It didn't take long for Danny to realise his skin was wet with tears.
Awkwardly wrapping one arm around Martin's shoulder, he used the other hand to push the door back closed. Martin was trembling and Danny pushed him away just far enough to see the other man's face.
Then briefly, but concisely, Martin told him the whole story about his favourite Aunt who had gone missing and was now in ICU dying from cancer. Instinctively Danny pulled him back towards himself and held him tighter.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I called Sam." If Danny was surprised by how much this upset him he didn't show it.
"You need some sleep," He said, eyeing the dark circles under Martin's eyes. "But first, I think, a hot bath." Martin half smiled at the thought of Danny looking after him but nevertheless allowed himself to be steered in the direction of the bathroom.
Martin sat down on the lid of the toilet seat and watched as Danny turned on the taps and poured in half a bottle of shower gel – it wasn't quite bubble bath but it did the trick.
Danny checked the temperature of the water and then turned to leave, but Martin grabbed hold of his wrist.
"Stay," He said vulnerably.
"Let me just get you a towel and you can borrow a t-shirt and some pants," Danny said as an excuse to leave the room quickly.
He stood outside the door and leant his head back against the wall. Sure things tended to hit Martin pretty bad, but this was the worst he had ever seen him.
In the bathroom Martin slipped himself into the water – the heat undoing all the knots that had formed in his muscles over the last few hours. There was a knock at the door.
"Yeah," He invited, checking first there were copious amounts of bubbles.
Danny abandoned his pile of cotton on the floor and, deciding the toilet seat would be too high of a viewpoint, slouched down on the tiles to join them. He half leant against the tub, opposite end to Martin, his interrupted sleep beginning to catch up with him. Martin spread his arms out along the top sides of the bath and Danny clasped the hand nearest to him, beginning to drift off with the combination of steam and comfortable silence.
"Can I stay here?" Martin's voice broke through the mist, "Just for one night?" He avoided Danny's eyes and instead looked down at where his fingers were interlinked with his own, and then clasped them tightly. "I don't think I can face going back to that hospital just yet and I really don't want to go home to an empty house." Tears were again forming in his tired blue eyes.
"I'll make up the sofa bed," Danny said by way of a reply, dragging his fingers away before exiting the bathroom for the cool of the flat.
He pulled out the sofa and made it up with sheets in a familiar fashion, having been used to taking care of himself when he was younger. He perched on the edge of it, his head in his hands, wondering what he could possibly do to make things easier for his friend. He was just beginning to nod off when Martin padded into the room, Danny's clothes hanging loosely on his smaller frame. Danny glanced up worryingly at him.
"Don't panic; I'm not going to cry again. I think I've run out of tears." He sat down next to Danny and lightly rested his head onto the other's shoulder. Danny slipped one arm around him and pulled him closer to plant a gentle kiss on Martin's forehead, enjoying the feeling of the man's breath across the skin of his bare chest.
He stood up carefully and laid Martin down onto the mattress, swinging his legs up and under the sheets, before creeping over to the door and flicking off the light switch.
He stood against the doorframe a moment watching the New York City lights bathe Martin in orange as he slipped into a restless sleep: Danny could see him shaking beneath the covers.
Making a decision, he muttered to himself, "This has to be the most stupid thing I have ever done," before pushing himself from the doorway and walking round to the other side of the bed.
Feeling a dip in the mattress beside him, Martin over into the crook of Danny and let himself be held as he drifted off again. Danny ran a hand through Martin's hair and again placed his lips down to the man's forehead.
"I've got you," He said reassuringly, "I've got you." It was 4am.