"Linda, babe, don't tell me nothing's wrong, because…you'd been crying when you picked the boys and me up yesterday, and…"
He winces when her foot jostles his bad ankle, then forgets the pain when she runs her finger along his Semper Fi tattoo. "You're always dead on your feet when you get home after a night shift, so the fact that you were jumping my bones when you get home…something's eating at you."
She kisses him, pushes the now-warm ice pack onto the floor. "I just…needed to know you were alive and well and okay."
"Well, my ankle's still swollen, and I still have knots everywhere from the crutches, but, yeah, I'm alive and…"
She sits up. "Roll over and let me rub the knots out."
He does as she asks, groaning in pain when she hits a particularly tight knot. "Mrs. Keenan took the boys to school. They have football practice…"
She kisses him. "We are not talking about the boys right now. Later, when we're downstairs, but not now, not here."
"Then are you gonna tell me what's wrong? You haven't been this…needy since I got hurt."
"Danny, you were in pain, and pain meds were making you all loopy—when you took them—and the rest of the time…"
"Linda, you're stalling. What's wrong?"
"I went to see Dr. Bennett yesterday. She was a bit…harsh, but sometimes…sometimes therapy is harsh. It took some hard questions from her, and some hard thinking from me, but I realized…"
He yelps when she presses on another knot. Even when he's fully weight-bearing—which is gonna be probably six weeks after this stupid sprain heals—he doesn't think he'll pass the physical fitness test to get back to full duty, his back and shoulders are so sore.
She kisses the knot she'd just rubbed out, says slowly, "When I left last week…I left because…I was afraid I might say something that would make you think I didn't want you anymore. Not want you like…this"—she kisses the back of his head—"but…want you alive. And so I ran. And I know that was incredibly selfish of me…but we…we haven't been in a good spot since…since I got shot."
Her voice breaks on the last word, and Danny rolls onto his back, pulls her close so he can kiss the scar on her side.
She gently pushes him away, apparently not done talking, and he lets her go, even though he can think of a lot more fun things to do than talk right now. She needs this, so he'll listen.
Linda chews her lip. "Even though Bennett's helping me…even though it did help when you told me how scared you were of losing me…I was afraid I'd say something I couldn't take back. So I ran. And Dr. Bennett…she…told me I can't run anymore. Just like you…promised you'd never leave leave again…I can't…leave you. Bennett wants me to…tell you that I need some space, and go somewhere else in the house—but not leave the house. And…I'm gonna try, Danny. I promise. Because…I haven't been the best version of me since you got hurt, and…I need to try better. You were a lot…gentler about me and my PTSD after admitting you were afraid of losing me, and I…I need to treat you the way you would if our roles were reversed."
He scrubs his face with his hand. "You think I wouldn't…have gotten frustrated if it were you with the broken ankle? Because I think I would have, babe. But…thank you for that promise."
She kisses him, and when they break for air, says, "Are you hungry?"
"Later. My ankle needs more….romping in the hay," he says, and pulls her close again.
She smirks. "Your ankle needs ice and elevation and immobilization, not another romp. But okay. I love you, Danny Fitzgerald."
"Love you more, Linda Rose."
"Love you most."