Title : Why Should We Care
Rated: R, for language
Notes: Snippet of a scene, set just after Draft Day 2000 part 2, wherein Dan has a third grade meltdown on the air. Dana's pissed, and she's not going anywhere till she gets some answers.
"... We're out."
"I'm gonna kill him," Dana said, throwing off her headset.
"Dana," Natalie said, reaching out to touch her arm.
"No, Natalie," Dana said, glaring at her and walking around the desk. "I'm gonna kill him."
"Dana!"
"Danny," she yelled, walking across the studio quickly towards him. She didn't even look up as Casey walked right past her, a mask of fury on his face.
"Dana," Dan said, his face frozen in fear.
"My office," she said, standing with a hand on her hip, pointing towards her office. "Now, Danny!"
Dan nodded slowly, standing up and faltering for a moment, grabbing the desk for support. "Dana I'm sorry..."
"MY OFFICE, DANNY," she yelled, turning around briskly and walking back into the control room.
"Dana, maybe you should wait till you cool off is all I'm saying" Natalie said, following her as she walked through the newsroom.
"Natalie, I say this with nothing but love," Dana said curtly, not even facing her. "But shut it."
"Okay," Natalie said, sounding surprised and turning on her heel to go back to her desk.
"Casey," she barked, walking into the office and watching him angrily gather up his briefcase and coat. "Don't tell me it's okay if it's not okay!"
"Dana," he said, sounding tired and on edge.
"Don't tell me it's *okay* if it's *not* okay!"
"Dana, God Damnit," Casey yelled, stepping closer to her. "I had no idea he was going to do *that*, Dana! No idea!"
"I know," she said, stamping her foot down, unsure of what to do or say next. "Casey, what's going *on* with him?"
"I don't know, Dana," Casey said, shoving his arms into his coat and facing her angrily. "And right now, I don't give a shit."
She turned, frowning as he brushed past her and headed towards the elevator. She sat down on the couch for a moment, trying to control her breathing. After about a minute she stood up, no less angry than she had been, and walked towards her office. She peered through the window in her door into her office and watched as Dan sat on her couch with his head in his hands, sitting perfectly still. He sat perfectly still, like a statue. Frighteningly still.
Opening the door she took a deep breath, closing the door behind her. "Well," she said, facing him with a stony face.
"Dana," he said, his eyes wide and his face positively crumbled. "Dana, God..."
"Why should we *care*, Danny?" She stood before him, her hands on her hips, not caring that she looked just like her mother at that very moment. "Why should we *care*?!"
"Dana, I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft and strained. "I don't know..."
"Danny... what the *hell*, Danny?!"
"I don't..."
"No, seriously, Danny," she said, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "Danny, what the *hell* were you thinking?"
"I don't know," he whispered again, hanging his head. His elbows are pressing into his knees, his hands hanging limply between his legs. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Dana," he said helplessly.
"Tell me, Casey, why should we care, he says," she said, sitting down in the chair opposite him. She mimicked his position and leaned forward, glaring at him, daring him to meet her gaze. "Why should we care."
"Dana, please," he said, his voice barely audible.
She frowned, sitting back in her chair. "Dan, this is a *sports show*. This is *my* sports show. This is *our* sports show..."
"Dana," he said a little louder. "I *know*."
"No, Danny, I don't think you do know," she said, sitting forward again, anger propelling her. "Cause I think if you knew you'd have known that what you did tonight was a flagrant..."
"Dana," he grunted out, looking up at he and his eyes flashing. "Believe me... I *know*."
"*What* has gotten *into* you lately, Danny," she mused, her tone bewildered. "You used to like it here, and you haven't in quite a while..."
"Dana, I don't..."
"You used to love it, as a matter of fact. You and me, Danny, the both of us, *lived* from 11 o'clock til midnight. Casey, he loves it too, but not like us, Danny. Not like us," she said, shaking her head. "Eleven o'clock would hit and you'd light up like a firecracker..."
"Dana..."
"And you haven't lit up in months," she said, her tone still completely mystified.
"I don't know, Dana, I don't," he said, looking at her. "I just... I don't..."
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes then. She'd always been mystified by his eyes, always reveled in the fact that you always knew what was going on behind Danny's eyes. Since she's known him, she'd never seen that kind of raw unadulterated pain in them as she saw at this moment.
"I don't know what's wrong with me, Dana," he said, his voice catching. "And I'm so sorry... God, you have no idea, Dana, how sorry... I'm so fucking sorry..."
"Danny," she said, her voice finally soft as she reached over and grabbed his hand. "Danny, what's going *on*?"
"It's never been this bad, Dana," he said softly, unable to look at her. "I've always been able to reign it in... but today... tonight... on the *air* Dana... on the *air*..."
"Danny..."
"I just.... It all caught up, Dana... I couldn't..." He faded off as his voice caught. His head pitched forward suddenly as a hand went to his mouth, balling into a fist. "I..."
"Oh, Danny," Dana said softly, getting up and sliding next to him on the couch. "Hey," she said, running her hand through his hair lightly. "Hey, come on," she said, touching him on the cheek. "What's going on?"
"I thought I'd learned how to... how to keep it at bay," he said, shaking his head and letting out a rueful laugh. "I thought I'd learned, and I thought I'd dealt with it.... but then... and Abby..."
"Abby's the therapist," she asked softly, running he hand down his back softly.
He nodded his head, pressing his fists into his eyes and letting out a groan. "It's like she broke the damn... I think that's what she called it... she broke the damn, and now all this fucking water..."
"Yeah," she said, nodding her head and looking at him worriedly. "I know."
"I should just..." He paused, sighing, rubbing at his face. "I should just stop seeing her..." He laughed, glancing quickly at Dana's concerned face and wringing his hands. "She's messing with the show..."
"Danny, fuck the show," Dana said, leaning forward and looking at him.
He looked at her, frowning. "Fuck the show?"
"Danny, you know I love you, don't you," she asked, touching his cheek again.
He looked at her, his eyes clouding over with unshed tears. "Yeah," he whispered.
"Then fuck the show," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Danny... are you gonna be alright?"
He sighed, looking down at his hands. "Usually I say I'm fine," he said, sighing. "Usually say I'm fine, and I'll be fine, and everything's fine."
"But maybe not so much," she said, running her hand down his arm, patting at his hand.
"Yeah," he said, laughing again lightly and looking at her. "Maybe not so much this time."
"Listen, Danny," she said, looking at him and smiling. "Whatever you need, okay? Whatever you need, if I can give it to you, all you have to do is ask."
"Okay," he said, nodding quickly, looking away and out of the window.
"No," she said, raising her hand and grasping his chin, turning him to face her. "Seriously Danny. Anything."
He smiled, nodding. "Thanks," he said.
"And Danny?"
His smile broadened slightly and he raised an eyebrow. "Not during your show?"
She laughed, nodding her head. "Not during my show. If you need time off, you got it. If you need to talk before the show, you got it. If you need a shoulder to cry on..."
"Dana, I got it...."
"Anything you need, Danny," she said, patting his knee again. "Just not during my *show*."
"Thank you," he whispered, trying to blink back the tears threatening to come out. "Dana... I don't know how to tell you..."
"Then don't," she said, smiling and leaning forward, grasping his face in her hands and placing a quick kiss to his lips. "You're welcome."
She stood up and walked over to her desk, starting to pick up her papers and put them in her carrying case. "Dana?"
"Yeah," she asked, looking at him and smiling.
"You think he'll ever forgive me for that," he asked, and she hated the way his lip quivered after that.
"Yeah, Danny," she said, nodding her head confidently. "He'll forgive you. He's pissed at you, and he might hold it in for awhile, but... he'll forgive you."
"Yeah," he asked hopefully, standing up, smoothing his pants.
She smiled, nodding again. "Yeah, Danny. He'll forgive you."
Rated: R, for language
Notes: Snippet of a scene, set just after Draft Day 2000 part 2, wherein Dan has a third grade meltdown on the air. Dana's pissed, and she's not going anywhere till she gets some answers.
"... We're out."
"I'm gonna kill him," Dana said, throwing off her headset.
"Dana," Natalie said, reaching out to touch her arm.
"No, Natalie," Dana said, glaring at her and walking around the desk. "I'm gonna kill him."
"Dana!"
"Danny," she yelled, walking across the studio quickly towards him. She didn't even look up as Casey walked right past her, a mask of fury on his face.
"Dana," Dan said, his face frozen in fear.
"My office," she said, standing with a hand on her hip, pointing towards her office. "Now, Danny!"
Dan nodded slowly, standing up and faltering for a moment, grabbing the desk for support. "Dana I'm sorry..."
"MY OFFICE, DANNY," she yelled, turning around briskly and walking back into the control room.
"Dana, maybe you should wait till you cool off is all I'm saying" Natalie said, following her as she walked through the newsroom.
"Natalie, I say this with nothing but love," Dana said curtly, not even facing her. "But shut it."
"Okay," Natalie said, sounding surprised and turning on her heel to go back to her desk.
"Casey," she barked, walking into the office and watching him angrily gather up his briefcase and coat. "Don't tell me it's okay if it's not okay!"
"Dana," he said, sounding tired and on edge.
"Don't tell me it's *okay* if it's *not* okay!"
"Dana, God Damnit," Casey yelled, stepping closer to her. "I had no idea he was going to do *that*, Dana! No idea!"
"I know," she said, stamping her foot down, unsure of what to do or say next. "Casey, what's going *on* with him?"
"I don't know, Dana," Casey said, shoving his arms into his coat and facing her angrily. "And right now, I don't give a shit."
She turned, frowning as he brushed past her and headed towards the elevator. She sat down on the couch for a moment, trying to control her breathing. After about a minute she stood up, no less angry than she had been, and walked towards her office. She peered through the window in her door into her office and watched as Dan sat on her couch with his head in his hands, sitting perfectly still. He sat perfectly still, like a statue. Frighteningly still.
Opening the door she took a deep breath, closing the door behind her. "Well," she said, facing him with a stony face.
"Dana," he said, his eyes wide and his face positively crumbled. "Dana, God..."
"Why should we *care*, Danny?" She stood before him, her hands on her hips, not caring that she looked just like her mother at that very moment. "Why should we *care*?!"
"Dana, I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft and strained. "I don't know..."
"Danny... what the *hell*, Danny?!"
"I don't..."
"No, seriously, Danny," she said, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "Danny, what the *hell* were you thinking?"
"I don't know," he whispered again, hanging his head. His elbows are pressing into his knees, his hands hanging limply between his legs. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Dana," he said helplessly.
"Tell me, Casey, why should we care, he says," she said, sitting down in the chair opposite him. She mimicked his position and leaned forward, glaring at him, daring him to meet her gaze. "Why should we care."
"Dana, please," he said, his voice barely audible.
She frowned, sitting back in her chair. "Dan, this is a *sports show*. This is *my* sports show. This is *our* sports show..."
"Dana," he said a little louder. "I *know*."
"No, Danny, I don't think you do know," she said, sitting forward again, anger propelling her. "Cause I think if you knew you'd have known that what you did tonight was a flagrant..."
"Dana," he grunted out, looking up at he and his eyes flashing. "Believe me... I *know*."
"*What* has gotten *into* you lately, Danny," she mused, her tone bewildered. "You used to like it here, and you haven't in quite a while..."
"Dana, I don't..."
"You used to love it, as a matter of fact. You and me, Danny, the both of us, *lived* from 11 o'clock til midnight. Casey, he loves it too, but not like us, Danny. Not like us," she said, shaking her head. "Eleven o'clock would hit and you'd light up like a firecracker..."
"Dana..."
"And you haven't lit up in months," she said, her tone still completely mystified.
"I don't know, Dana, I don't," he said, looking at her. "I just... I don't..."
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes then. She'd always been mystified by his eyes, always reveled in the fact that you always knew what was going on behind Danny's eyes. Since she's known him, she'd never seen that kind of raw unadulterated pain in them as she saw at this moment.
"I don't know what's wrong with me, Dana," he said, his voice catching. "And I'm so sorry... God, you have no idea, Dana, how sorry... I'm so fucking sorry..."
"Danny," she said, her voice finally soft as she reached over and grabbed his hand. "Danny, what's going *on*?"
"It's never been this bad, Dana," he said softly, unable to look at her. "I've always been able to reign it in... but today... tonight... on the *air* Dana... on the *air*..."
"Danny..."
"I just.... It all caught up, Dana... I couldn't..." He faded off as his voice caught. His head pitched forward suddenly as a hand went to his mouth, balling into a fist. "I..."
"Oh, Danny," Dana said softly, getting up and sliding next to him on the couch. "Hey," she said, running her hand through his hair lightly. "Hey, come on," she said, touching him on the cheek. "What's going on?"
"I thought I'd learned how to... how to keep it at bay," he said, shaking his head and letting out a rueful laugh. "I thought I'd learned, and I thought I'd dealt with it.... but then... and Abby..."
"Abby's the therapist," she asked softly, running he hand down his back softly.
He nodded his head, pressing his fists into his eyes and letting out a groan. "It's like she broke the damn... I think that's what she called it... she broke the damn, and now all this fucking water..."
"Yeah," she said, nodding her head and looking at him worriedly. "I know."
"I should just..." He paused, sighing, rubbing at his face. "I should just stop seeing her..." He laughed, glancing quickly at Dana's concerned face and wringing his hands. "She's messing with the show..."
"Danny, fuck the show," Dana said, leaning forward and looking at him.
He looked at her, frowning. "Fuck the show?"
"Danny, you know I love you, don't you," she asked, touching his cheek again.
He looked at her, his eyes clouding over with unshed tears. "Yeah," he whispered.
"Then fuck the show," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Danny... are you gonna be alright?"
He sighed, looking down at his hands. "Usually I say I'm fine," he said, sighing. "Usually say I'm fine, and I'll be fine, and everything's fine."
"But maybe not so much," she said, running her hand down his arm, patting at his hand.
"Yeah," he said, laughing again lightly and looking at her. "Maybe not so much this time."
"Listen, Danny," she said, looking at him and smiling. "Whatever you need, okay? Whatever you need, if I can give it to you, all you have to do is ask."
"Okay," he said, nodding quickly, looking away and out of the window.
"No," she said, raising her hand and grasping his chin, turning him to face her. "Seriously Danny. Anything."
He smiled, nodding. "Thanks," he said.
"And Danny?"
His smile broadened slightly and he raised an eyebrow. "Not during your show?"
She laughed, nodding her head. "Not during my show. If you need time off, you got it. If you need to talk before the show, you got it. If you need a shoulder to cry on..."
"Dana, I got it...."
"Anything you need, Danny," she said, patting his knee again. "Just not during my *show*."
"Thank you," he whispered, trying to blink back the tears threatening to come out. "Dana... I don't know how to tell you..."
"Then don't," she said, smiling and leaning forward, grasping his face in her hands and placing a quick kiss to his lips. "You're welcome."
She stood up and walked over to her desk, starting to pick up her papers and put them in her carrying case. "Dana?"
"Yeah," she asked, looking at him and smiling.
"You think he'll ever forgive me for that," he asked, and she hated the way his lip quivered after that.
"Yeah, Danny," she said, nodding her head confidently. "He'll forgive you. He's pissed at you, and he might hold it in for awhile, but... he'll forgive you."
"Yeah," he asked hopefully, standing up, smoothing his pants.
She smiled, nodding again. "Yeah, Danny. He'll forgive you."