"You've known for three years that a Marine was living on the streets, under my nose—and you didn't tell me?" he explodes, as soon as Jamie opens the door.
Jamie holds his hands up in surrender and walk back inside. "She made me promise not to tell anyone—especially you! And I really didn't want you exploding because I dared mention Fallujah!"
Danny slams the door. "Marines take care of our own, Jamie—you shoulda told me, especially once you found out she served with me!"
"And broken my promise, Danny? Jill was hanging on by a thread when I first met her, three years ago! If I'd broken my promise to her—I really think she would have OD'ed or…taken her own life," Jamie whispers.
Danny sinks into a chair, suddenly out of breath.
He hadn't thought of that. He'd been thinking of Jill as a homeless veteran, not as an addict. The addiction…put a whole new wrinkle in the situation.
"What was all that at dinner, about, 'wouldn't we have to know what the secret was to know whether or not it's important'?"
Jamie sighs. "Dad was…not pleased I didn't tell him who Jill was or how I knew her. Not as pissy as you are right now, but…almost."
He shakes his head—Danny hasn't seen him this angry since their Mother's Day fight over Joe years ago. "She saved your life, Danny! I couldn't break a promise to the woman who made sure you came home in one piece from Fallujah!"
Danny stares at his shoes and starts counting the scuffs and tears in them. That IED attack is the one incident he'd…blotted out. It doesn't even haunt his nightmares anymore.
But now, he can smell the burning rubber and burning flesh and…
"I'll see you at Sunday dinner," he says, and bolts.
He sits in his car for almost an hour. Jamie comes out and knocks on the window twice, but he ignores him.
He can't…
He has a backlog of paperwork to catch up on, so he goes to the precinct and gets started on it.
He calls Sean at 11 p.m. to say he's caught a case.
"I didn't know you were working nights…or Sundays. Are you going to be at family dinner?" Sean asks, and he sounds so young and so broken-hearted, it makes Danny waver for a brief second.
"I…don't think so, this…looks like it'll be a long one."
He hates lying to his son…he doesn't actually have a case, he's just doing paperwork and other stuff that he needs to catch up…but he…well, he can't name the reason even to himself.
When Lieutenant Gee orders him to go take a coffee break—it's 9 a.m., and he's been at his desk since 5 p.m. the night before, for no real reason other than he doesn't want to have time to think, or take a breath of fresh air, or face the nightmares—he pops over to the parish rectory, makes his confession to Padre Donovan, who's retired now, and receives Communion from him. "Sorry I can't stay for Mass; I caught a case," he says after a few brief prayers.
"Did you catch a case, Dan, or are you working so you don't have to think about something else?"
He slumps down onto the couch in the rectory. "I just found out my brother's been helping Jill Camaga—and I just got her settled in a drug rehab place yesterday."
Padre nods. "That was a bad day."
He chokes on the lump on his throat. "If she hadn't shoved me out of the way… Yesterday was the first day I'd seen her since then. And I…I don't think I said 'thank you.'"
"You did," Padre says.
He frowns. What the hell does the older man mean?
"Getting her to go to rehab…that was your way of saying 'thank you,' Dan. Now go home, have dinner with your family. We'll talk Thursday."
He nods, and takes the coffee and donuts the priest offers him, then goes back to the precinct to keep working.
A/N: I'm thinking 3 or 4 more chapters. One will be Danny picking Jill up from rehab in probably six months? What would y'all like to see?