A/N: Thank you all for sticking by this story! I hope you all are still enjoying it. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you guys enjoy this one, and please review. :)

Chapter Twenty-Five

After the boys had settled into bed for the night, Linda found Danny sitting in the living room, holding a bottle of beer in his hand. She made her way over to sit next to him, saying nothing for the moment.

"He's not good," he told her quietly.

Linda nodded, knowing exactly who he was. "You didn't expect him to be," she reminded him.

"I know."

"You just hoped it wasn't as bad as you were thinking?"

He nodded solemnly.

"And I'm guessing he's worse than you thought."

Danny nodded again, drinking from his beer.

"What did he say that's got you reachin' for the beer?"

Danny scoffed lightly. "He wanted to die," he said quietly.

Linda inhaled slowly, closing her eyes.

"Said he kept thinkin', though, that he couldn't let us all lose another family member. That kept him goin'."

She frowned, thinking about her brother-in-laws. The fact that Jamie acknowledged Joe's loss as his reason for fighting to survive wasn't shocking to her. She'd figured as much from seeing him in the hospital. Knowing there was a point that Jamie had wanted to give up and not make it out of there… that he had even considered that… it wasn't that it was a surprise to her, as she figured most people would think that if there were no other option.

Knowing it was possible didn't make it easier to hear that it was true, though.

"He blames himself for this," Danny continued. "For this, and for Vinny's death."

Linda sighed softly.

Danny shook his head sadly. "I don't know how to help him, Linda," he said quietly.

"Sometimes, the best thing you can do is just listen and say nothing," she told him.

He snorted slightly. "Easier said than done. The kid's hurting, Lin. I can't do nothin' to make it better. I'm just hopin' he doesn't do somethin' stupid."

"I doubt Jamie's going to kill himself, if that's what you're worried about. He's got a lot on his plate right now, and he doesn't know which end is up. But suicide? No way."

"He's havin' a helluva year."

"I know."

Danny sighed heavily.

"But Jamie's not gonna commit suicide," she said. "Not after fightin' to get out of there."

"I'm not sure he wanted to get out of there alive," Danny replied. "I think he just managed to make it out. Honor let him go."

"He still ran five miles with a broken leg. He didn't have to even leave just because Honor let him go. He did, and he ran. He survived."

"He's hidin' somethin'."

Linda furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

Danny shook his head slowly. "I don't know. I just feel like there's somethin' he's holdin' back, somethin' he's afraid of saying."

"Did the evidence back up his statement?"

Danny shrugged slightly. "For the most part," he replied.

"What stood out?" she asked.

"He never talked about Honor hurtin' him. How Honor got her hands on him. Where her fingernail marks came in, the bruises her hands made on him. He made her out to be innocent, having done nothin'."

"But she let him go."

Danny tilted his head to the side. "So he said."

"You don't believe him," Linda noted.

"I have doubts," Danny clarified.

She shrugged slightly. "So, ask him about it."

"What have you seen?"

Linda shifted. "I think you need to talk to Jamie about this," she told him.

"Which means, you have seen something," Danny replied.

"Nothin' the rest of you guys haven't seen, but you're the one who took his statement. I wasn't there with you, so I don't know what he said."

"What did he tell the psychiatrist at the hospital?"

"I can't tell you that, Danny, even if I did know that," she said.

"This is my brother, Lin," Danny said.

"And he was still a patient at the hospital. Just because he's discharged doesn't mean I can tell you anythin' that may or may not be in his record."

Danny sighed softly. "I don't think he'll talk to me any more than he already has."

"You never know. He might surprise you. He opened up today. That's a start."

Danny nodded quietly, taking a drink from his beer.

Linda rubbed Danny's shoulder gently. "He'll be okay," she told him softly.

"Yeah," Danny breathed. "I hope so."

"He will be," Linda emphasized again. "But you need to talk to him. Figure out what happened between the lines. Make your own assessment."

"I just hope he'll let us."

Linda didn't reply, but she didn't need to. Because she was thinking the same thing.