Israel - Chapter Three
That night there was a thunderstorm; deep clouds rolled in from the East and swept over the city, covering it in a blanket of mist. The temperature dropped, despite spring having already arrived and the skies opened, rain falling thickly over the streets. Danny sloshed through the puddles as he made his way blindly up the street to his building. The cab had dropped him off at the corner, unable to get up the street due to the large amount of water settling over it. He'd pulled the hood of his hoodie over his dripping hair but the rain blew into his eyes and he gasped in icy breaths, trying not to choke. There hadn't been a storm this bad in a long time. Lightning flashed overhead and Danny shivered again. The water on the ground had soaked up his trousers and into his skin, not to mention the rain flying at him, landing on him like tiny, icy pinpricks of pain. He had to turn back to find the steps up to his home, walking right past them as the mist swirled around and made it impossible to see. He clambered up, slipping twice before he made it to the top and unlocked the door with a trembling hand. His red fingers curled in of themselves and froze in that position, aching painfully against the heat of the building as he entered. The door slammed closed behind him of its own accord and he stayed there, shivering for a moment, every joint tensed with pain as he lost himself in numb thought.
His heart ached. It ached with pain and pity and hatred of what the human race could do to itself. It ached more than his frozen body did. That young girl's face, her tears, her heartfelt sobs of pure anguish would never leave him for the rest of his life. If Hawkes hadn't been standing next to him as he'd watched through the glass he would have broken down right there. But he hadn't. He'd kept it together until this very moment. That beautiful little girl. Bright blue eyes, golden locks that hung down her back, a shy smile as Flack had offered her some hot chocolate earlier in the day. But that had been destroyed, as so much had been today. Four people's lives ruined by the actions of one man. And nothing would ever be the same again for that little girl. Only five years old. Danny's face burnt as tears rolled down it, thawing trails on his skin too quickly and burning through the ice. She hadn't understood. Perhaps she'd been too young...or simply in denial but she hadn't understood when the social worker had explained her parents were never coming back. Mother lying in the morgue, only twenty four years of age, barely grown up herself. Similar to her daughter in every way; blue eyes, blonde hair but no shy smile. Of course, there had been no smile at all as half her face was smashed in by a baseball bat. Body black and blue with bruises, most of them caked with dry blood, all the bones in her fingers broken, jaw hanging loose and ribs snapped at such an angle they'd punctured a lung. A slow and painful death. A quick and senseless beating.
Danny's sobs filled the lobby as he slid to the floor and broke. It had been Sid who'd first told him. Sid who'd discovered the truth. So many things they couldn't tell without the autopsy, such a necessary part of the process, such an unwelcome mass of information. The unborn child safe within her body, protected from the world outside, secure in its own universe and free to grow and live. The unborn child now dead within her body, vulnerable to the man outside, killed too soon before it had the chance to live and grow. Danny cried until his eyes were sore and his heart ached for the injustice of the world. How could a man do that? How could a human being do that? Love was a good thing, pure and yet it caused too much evil. That man had taken up the bat without a second thought, mind fuelled by rage, intentions of the worst. He'd cried as he'd confessed, wept his tears over the table, regret strong in his mind as he recalled his actions. Danny had no sympathy for a man like that, and neither had Flack sat beside him or Hawkes watching through the glass. Now that little girl, Arabella...that was her name, now she was parentless, left alone with a dead mother, dead unborn sister and incarcerated father who'd be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again. She'd disappear into the system and come out a very different person one day in the future.
Danny wiped his tears away and tried to ignore the nausea that permeated his body. He had such a beautiful wife, so perfect and far too good for him. She always had been and always would be. But he'd spend the rest of his life trying to be good enough for her. He had his beautiful little princess, four and a half years old and already so grown up. And then there was his unborn child, his son who would be perfect, just like the rest of his family. Danny couldn't imagine ever being mad enough to commit the abhorrent crime that man had, he couldn't ever imagine losing them, living his life without them by his side. He jumped as the loud rumble of thunder rolled through the air. He choked as he imagined either himself or Lindsay alone, or Lucy, having to grow up without her parents with her. They both did such a dangerous job, so often faced with unstable suspects and weapons. It wouldn't take much for one or both of them to end up...Danny couldn't think of it. There had been the time at the bar shooting, they could have easily both been killed. Who would have explained to Lucy that neither of them were coming back? He guessed his friends would have taken care of her and she was probably too young at the time to have understood anyway. But now, she was getting older and with the new one on the way...
"Danny?"
Danny coughed, gasped and looked up to see his wife standing in front of him.
"Danny, what are you doing here? I heard you come in ten minutes ago." she asked worriedly, going to his side and touching his face gently with a hand. "God, you're freezing. What's happened?"
"I love you so much," Danny whispered and leant his head into her neck. She was warm.
"Danny...I? What's... I love you too, you know I do...but you're freezing, come inside and get out of these wet clothes."
"I'd never hurt you, you know that? I'd never do anything to hurt you or Luce or the baby."
"Danny, of course I know that," Lindsay said in concern, a tear dripped down her cheek as he clung to her and her heart clenched with worry.
"I just...I can't stand the thought of you being alone. Of Luce being alone...or the baby."
Lindsay blinked away her tears. She had to remain strong for her husband in his moment of need. "Danny, we're not alone, we have you...we have each other."
"But what if something happens, Linds? Another bar shooting or another Shane Casey or just some lunatic with a gun? I...I can't stand it...and with the baby..."
Lindsay pulled him against her as he lost himself with emotion and sobbed the rest of his sentence out. She held him close, one hand around his back while the other held the back of his head. She rarely ever saw Danny like this, he was always so happy, so supportive of her – usually the needy, emotional one – Danny rarely ever let anything bad get to him. Something must have happened today, and she had a funny feeling whatever it was that was hurting him, was much bigger than his case.
"You're worried about work, aren't you?" she murmured softly, not letting him go. She could feel the cold of his clothes seeping into her own but right at that moment she didn't care. He was shaking against her and she knew he'd been keeping this inside far too long.
"We can't stay like this, Linds...not with the new baby coming..." he cried.
"You don't have to worry about this," she murmured, kissing the top of his head.
"Linds...of course I do. I'm the man, it's my job to look after my family..."
"Danny..." she said quietly, taking a deep breath for courage. "I'm going to give up work."
Danny pulled away from her and stared up into her eyes. "What?"
"I'm going to give up work. I'll find something else, something safer with better hours."
"But...I don't understand...we haven't even discussed this..."
"We're discussing it now," she smiled sadly. "I've been thinking about this ever since I found out about this baby. Your Ma is getting old, Danny, she can't look after two small kids. They need to have at least one parent who'll be able to take them to school and pick them up, go to matches and recitals. At the moment we barely do anything with Lucy and I feel bad about that all the time."
"So do I," agreed Danny, calming slightly at her words.
"Children need stability. They need a family unit and right now it doesn't feel very much like we have one. This way I get more time to spend with Lucy and the baby and also with you when we're not at work."
"I like you being at work with me," Danny mumbled. "You're so much braver than me, Linds."
"No, I'm just more sensible. For instance I wouldn't sit in the lobby, freezing cold and in sopping wet clothes."
Danny let out a breath in amusement and then placed a hand over hers. "God, I love you."
"I love you too," Lindsay replied. "I love our family. Now come on, let's get you inside and out of these clothes."
"I'm sorry, Linds."
"It's okay. Sometimes you just need to let it all out. Come on..."
She took his hand and they stood up together. Then she led him into their apartment and closed the door against the outside world. Just the four of them, safe in their own little world and nothing could break that. Nothing ever would break that.
Mac finally got home at two in the morning. The rain had stopped a little over an hour ago and the sky was slowly clearing. He hadn't really planned to come back at all but Don had said he'd be there and Mac wanted to see the young detective whom he'd missed all day. He slipped off his shoes and jacket as he got in, tidying them away before proceeding into his lounge. The lights were off but the room was lit by the TV which was now showing a teleshopping show and the grinning presenter was demonstrating how to use some useless kitchen machine. He smiled as his eyes went straight to the tall detective asleep on the couch. Don had managed to cram his entire body between the two armrests despite the couch being at least four inches shorter than he was and his head was bent in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable angle. Mac was getting neck ache just looking at him. He went over and perched on the armrest nearest to his head. He felt guilty for staying so late at the office, he knew Don had finished around 9pm and had obviously waited up for him, despite being on an early shift tomorrow.
"Don?" Mac murmured.
The detective stirred but didn't wake.
"Don?" Mac said again louder.
Don let out a soft noise and one of his arms moved to cover his face but he still didn't wake, Mac quietly laughed and shook his head. Don was beautiful when he slept, so at peace with the world and Mac had always been jealous of that. Despite his recent happiness, Mac hadn't slept well since Claire died all those years ago. And anyone who could sleep through a thunderstorm as loud as the one that had raged that evening was high on Mac's jealously list. He watched as Don stirred again and debated about whether or not he should wake him. Despite how uncomfortable he looked the detective was obviously deep in the realms of sleep and Mac hadn't the heart to rouse him from his dreams. And yet, the only reason he had even returned home was to see Don, to speak with him, to bask in the younger man's company. Mac knew he was lucky to have him, knew that on many an occasion he'd been close to losing the one thing he treasured more than anything else. He closed his eyes as a memory assaulted him, drawn forth from the deepest recesses of his mind.
Mac smiled at the young man sat next to him. He was having a good time, grinning up at the screen and shouting loudly at his team to 'move there asses'.
Mac found it rather funny and waited until the match had finished before trying to talk about anything serious with Don. Fortunately his team had won which had put him in a very good mood. It was exactly what he needed after the day he'd had.
"Another?" Don asked merrily as he signalled at the barman.
"Why not?" smiled Mac and drained the rest of his glass.
It was nice to be out with Don again. They'd not done this in a very long time. Not because there was any sort of awkwardness between them. But Mac supposed he'd tried to keep at least some distance from the younger man, wanting to give him enough room to get over him. That had been hard. Mac still cared deeply for the younger detective. He'd not dated anyone since Don and Peyton and he wanted to keep it that way. Not that he expected to ever have a relationship with Don again. On a personal level there probably wasn't much trust left between them, he'd seen to that. But at least they could hang out together and not feel any awkwardness. That was all Mac could ask for really.
"Here ya go," Don grinned and slid a pint along the bar to Mac.
"Cheers," Mac said, nodding and raising his glass.
"Cheers," Don replied. He drank almost half his pint in one go and Mac could see the detective slowly getting tipsy.
"Thanks for this, Mac. It's just what I needed."
"No problem."
"And thanks for today. For never doubting me. It was nice to know there was at least one person who had my back."
"I'll always have your back," Mac murmured and he and Don locked eyes for a moment before turning back to their drinks.
"Felt like everyone was out to get me," Don muttered.
"Not everyone," Mac stated solidly and he briefly touched Don on the arm.
Don stared at the spot on his arm that had come in to contact with Mac's hand.
"I'm seeing Angell, Mac."
Mac nodded and looked down at his drink. He knew this would happen one day. That Don would move on and start dating seriously again. Jessica Angell was a kind and generous person, a clever detective and very beautiful too. She was perfect for Don and Mac was happy for him, he genuinely was, despite wishing he'd perhaps appreciated what he'd had while it had still been his.
"Does she make you happy?" Mac asked after a moment.
Don smiled and Mac recognised it as the one that had once been reserved only for his eyes.
"Yeah. Yeah she does," he said happily. "I think I might be falling in love."
Mac swallowed and felt something of a pain in his chest which he ignored. He had no right to feel like that.
"I'm pleased for you, Don," Mac finally said.
Don looked at him and Mac nodded.
"Mac," Don said in surprise, face breaking out into that wonky grin.
Mac opened his eyes and saw that the young detective had woken from his slumber, blinking up at him wearily.
"You seem surprised to see me in my own home," Mac said smirking, amused at the younger man.
Don stretched again and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "I didn't expect you back. Thought you'd sleep over at the office."
"I said I'd be back," Mac pointed out.
"Yeah, but isn't it kinda late? I waited up but guess I must have fallen asleep," Don said regretfully.
"It's 2am, Don. You should have gone to be hours ago," Mac said severely.
"2am? Why the hell are you so late?" Don scolded as he stood up and rubbed his hands over his face.
"I had work to finish," Mac replied, bemused that Don was telling him off.
"Well you should have left it until tomorrow...or today, as it were," Don stated as he turned off the TV, chucking the remote onto the couch and then heading out of the room.
Mac sighed and picked up the remote placing it back on the coffee table in a parallel line to the edge. Then he followed Don into the kitchen where he was getting a drink of water.
"Is this how it's going to be then?" Mac asked as he leant against the doorframe, arms crossing against his chest.
"Is this how what's going to be?" asked Don, filling his glass up for a second drink.
"You...ordering me about. I'm the boss at work but you're the boss at home is it?"
Don laughed loudly and put the glass on the side. "I think you'll always be the big bad boss, Mac. I won't try and crash your party."
Mac rolled his eyes and laughed. "You need to get to bed."
"See," Don grinned and pushed past Mac out of the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"That's not bossy, it's just good sense," Mac mumbled to himself as he quickly washed the glass and placed it on the drainer before turning out the lights and following Don into the bedroom.
"What took you?" Don asked, pulling his shirt off over his head without undoing it.
"Just tidying up after my mess."
"Your mess?" exclaimed Don feigning hurt. "Is that what I am to you?"
"Well you are messy," reasoned Mac, staring at the pile of clothes on the floor that Don had just disregarded as he got into bed.
"Well you better start getting used to it," grinned Don, plumping up the pillows before collapsing back against them.
"Does that mean you want to move in here?" Mac asked as he removed his own clothes.
Don watched Mac for a moment mulling it over before replying. "I thought it was easiest. Most of my stuff is here anyway and you don't like my place."
"I never said that," Mac said, one eyebrow raised. "In fact as I recall, it was you who said you didn't like your place."
"It's cold there," Don moaned defensively.
"Because you're never there," chuckled Mac.
Don hummed and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't you want me here then?"
"Of course I do," Mac replied, removing his pants. "I just thought we might choose a place together."
Don stared back at him. "Get somewhere together?" he murmured, somewhat shocked.
Mac laughed. "We are getting married, in case you'd forgotten."
"No...I mean, of course not," Don made a stupid face at Mac. "It's just I didn't even think of that. I don't even know if I've got the money."
Mac climbed into bed next to Don. "Well, move in here then. And when we have enough we can start looking. I think it would be nice to have somewhere that is ours together."
Don nodded in agreement and grinned at Mac, leaning against his shoulder. Mac placed an arm around him.
"So are you going to tell me how it went today with Hatcher?"
"Urgh" Don moaned. "As well as can be expected. He was shocked, really shocked and said to expect trouble."
"You worried," Mac asked quietly, gently stroking his fingers across Don's shoulder.
"Nah. Most of the guys are pretty good fellas and we've known each other for such a long time I don't think they'll be bothered."
"Well just take care," Mac warned.
"I always do. It was only Lovato who was all up in my face about it."
"You used to like her," Mac reminded him.
"Yeah well now I don't. And I've apologised a million times for almost kissing her so don't keep on. It was a mistake and I..."
"Don!" Mac almost shouted, trying to be heard over the detective's rant. "I didn't mean it like that. I was only saying that she used to be your friend and now that she's dating Hawkes you should probably try to be nice to her. And I know it was a mistake. I've forgiven you so stop worrying. We all make mistakes."
Don pursed his lips as he sullenly agreed with what Mac was saying. Lovato had been a good friend when she'd first come to the precinct and he'd been quite taken with her, she looked so much like Jess. Mac had known, he always knew. So perceptive of everyone, knowing their thoughts and feelings before they even knew themselves. He'd warned him about her the day he returned from San Francisco, warned him just to take care but had he listened? No. He'd gone round to her apartment weeks later with the Chinese, intent on making nice but instead almost kissed her. She'd thought he'd been jealous about the case but that wasn't it. He cared for her, that was all. Yes, she was pretty and she did look like Jess. But the more he got to know her, the more he realised how different she was. She could never be Jess...or Mac. He'd never felt so much guilt as he had when he'd gone to Mac and admitted what had happened, convinced the older man would leave him immediately. But Mac hadn't done that. They were stronger than that, and Mac had said he trusted him. Don smiled as he recalled that memory. Mac trusted him and he trusted Mac. No more lies. No more deceit.
Don snuggled against the older man. "So what happened with Sinclair?" he asked, changing the subject.
"It went surprising well, actually," Mac smiled. "He didn't think it would be a problem as long as we don't work cases together. We work in different departments and so on and so forth..."
"So I won't be expecting IA to be sitting on my desk in the morning," Don growled.
"Of course not," Mac laughed. Don did like his flair for the dramatic sometimes.
"Good," Don grumbled while Mac continued to laugh and kissed the side of his head.
"By the way, I had an idea for the wedding and wanted to run it past you," Mac smiled.
"Hmmm? What?" Don hummed.
"I think Danny should be best man."
Don turned his head and watched Mac carefully. "Don't you have anyone else you'd rather ask? I mean, I thought you'd want to ask one of your Marine pals or something."
Mac shook his head. "No, I want Danny. He's your best friend and he means such a lot to both of us. It feels right to have someone we both care for."
Don smiled and then nodded his head. "Agreed. I can ask him when we play hoops next week?"
"Good idea," Mac nodded. "And now I think it's time you got some sleep."
"Fine," Don replied, leaning up to give Mac a quick kiss before snuggling down under the covers.
Mac turned off the light and joined him, closing his eyes exhaustedly.
Sleep crept over them, pulling them from the land of consciousness and for a brief moment, a spot on the long stretch of life, they were at peace.
A/N – Flashback from 5x13
