A/N: I've had writer's block on this story, plus a couple other stories have taken over all my brain space.
Thanks to visionsofdazzlingrooms for inspiring me to get back to this story!
Italicized words are from Linda's pep talk to Danny at the end of chapter 35. This chapter, proper, starts, around 48, or 49, after Danny has come home from the psych ward after his suicide attempt.
This is probably crappy, and a lot of it is taken from the original "Drowning," so sorry if it sucks.
She's on her third night of no sleep when they finally hear that Danny's being transferred to the psych ward—meaning he's stable enough to be moved. They don't think he's going to die.
She goes up to his old room, finds his old USMC hoodie—it still smells like him—and buries her face in it and cries.
She wants to see him. The nurse in her knows this is protocol, but it's been three days and she needs to see him. Seeing him lying unconscious on the gurney, f-g handcuffed to the bed, had about killed her.
It's another week before he comes home, and it's not until Thursday night that they actually talk—he's taking fewer pain meds, so he's not falling asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.
She's holding him as tightly as she can without hurting him, between his broken arm and ribs.
"How mad are you?" he whispers.
"Mad? I'm not mad! I'm pissed! That you actually f-g tried to kill yourself! You drove your car into a concrete barrier, Danny! You were ready to DIE!"
He pulls away from her, and she can feel the sadness. "Babe, what is it?"
"I was gonna ask you something, but if you're that mad, I guess I won't."
Now she's worried… She reaches for him, pulls him back to rest his head on her breast. "Danny, what were you gonna ask me, babe? I'm not mad at you, really, just really, really scared about having to live without you because you killed yourself," she sniffles.
He takes a shaky, pained breath—she can hear the groan he tries to hide. "Do you…do you remember…what you said to me a couple weeks ago? That pep talk? Can you…tell me again?"
She kisses the top of his head gently. "Yeah. But I want you to sit up and look at me."
He sits up slowly, and she turns the light on. He won't look her in the eyes.
She remembers what she said—she'd said the words like a prayer every night he was in the hospital—but she's worried that just repeating the words, won't have the effect he needs. So she takes his good hand in hers, kisses his bruised face.
"I love you, Daniel Fitzgerald Reagan. So, so much. If you need me to remind you that you are loved and that you are lovable…I'm sitting here next to you as proof of that. If you need me to be your strength, all you gotta do is ask."
"I do," he whispers. "I can't…I'm so tired, Linda, I need…I need somebody to lean on."
"I'm right here, babe. We promised 'In good times and in bad,' and maybe these are the bad, but I'm not going anywhere, Danny."
"But none of this is fair to you, babe. You didn't sign up for this when you married me…watching me spend ten days in the freaking psych ward! I…I don't wanna pull you under with me," he whispers.
She wipes a tear from his face. "Danny, I'm safe on dry land. And I will throw you a life-jacket and a rope to pull you to shore. And I promise you, you won't pull me under with you."
He looks away, but his face says clear as day what he's thinking: Because you're stronger than me.
She pulls him back to face her, kisses him. "It's not because I'm stronger than you, Danny. It's because I can see the goodness and the beauty and the future and the joy that are still ahead of you and that you will find your way back to. Right now, you're having a hard time seeing all this…but it's there, I promise."
He shakes his head. "I…I don't know, Linda. I tried to kill myself. I don't wanna die anymore, but…I just don't know how I'm gonna get out from under this…f-g crushing wave of…"
"Do you trust me, Danny?"
He nods, his pale face turning red.
"Then I need you to come to me when you start thinking like that. You can't freak out and run, like you did on that Friday. You have to talk to me. I know you've got Doc, but you have to come to talk to me. Aren't you always saying I'm your better half?"
He nods, a half-smile twisting his face, and clings to her.
A few days later she's sorting laundry—Sean had dumped all of his in with Frank's, and it was a mess—when Danny walks into the laundry room. She'd gotten up early, hoping to get the laundry done before church. "Linda, can you…I need you?"
She turns to look at him. He's obviously just woken up; his hair's tousled, sleep pants twisted, face red; she can practically see his heart racing. "Danny, what's wrong?"
He shakes his head and starts to slide down the wall, then bangs his cast against the wall.
He gasps; his face turns ashen, and his knees buckle, and she catches him. "Danny? Danny! Breathe, babe, just breathe with me! The pain'll ease. Keep breathing, babe. In through your nose, come on, deep breath for me!"
This isn't the first time he's self-inflicted pain as some sort of gating mechanism to distract himself from a flashback or something, but this is definitely the worst. His arm had been broken in like two places; she's surprised he didn't faint from the pain.
She rubs his back and keeps coaching him to breathe, but it's ten minutes before he can talk. "I can't…I can't handle all the thoughts in my head."
"What thoughts, Danny?"
"Dark, ugly ones that you don't wanna hear."
"I do wanna hear them. Please, babe, tell me. it'll make it easier for you."
"That I wish I'd died in the crash. That I'm a failure because I couldn't even kill myself properly."
She flinches. They'd had a group meeting with Doc, and she had thought they had gotten past that point. One step forward, ten steps back, she guesses.
"Those thoughts are lies, Danny. You need to tell them to go to hell where they belong."
He shakes his head. "I can't. I…that's why I came and got you, like you said."
He sounds so absolutely broken, she wants to cry. "Look at me, Danny."
He twists around to look at her without moving from her arms.
"I love you. You're not a failure—you're the strongest person I know. I need you to stay alive. I… can't be a widow, Danny. I need you to find something to live for, something to fight for."
"I have…it's you and the boys…I'm just scared it won't be enough."
"What do you mean, you're scared?"
"I'm scared I'll get overwhelmed and try again…"
"And what are you gonna do if you get overwhelmed, Danny?"
"Come…come to you and ask for a life-jacket?"
"Exactly—and I will fight heaven and hell to hold you up above the waves."
He nods, and lets her help him back to bed.