A/N — a while back a reader asked me for Danny's perspective on a few chapters. Since Once in Forever is completely from Kara's perspective, I am adding those scenes here. This falls just after Danny and Kara's "date" to the cabin. Trigger warning for discussion of suicide. xoxo — tmtcltb
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Danny sat at the hightop, tallboy before him, fiddling with his phone. Overhead, the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim — a name that Frankie used to mock unmercifully — were kicking the Red Sox's ass, but Danny found himself watching indifferently. Unable to focus on the game. Not after what Kara told him earlier today.
Danny knew that Debbie wasn't an ideal mother. Although it took Kara time to start opening up during those long-ago days in the Arctic, once she did, Kara didn't hide the fact that Debbie was an alcoholic. Danny even knew that Kara's pre-virus efforts to bring Debbie to Norfolk were, in large part, a last-ditch effort to give the woman a fresh start. But, Danny now realized, he never experienced that side of Debbie. The Debbie that he knew was a warm and big-hearted woman who spent her time helping others, while dotting on her only child. Today, he had gotten a glimpse of a very different Debbie. It had been eye-opening — and not in a good way.
Inevitably, any reference to suicide made Danny think of Frankie Benz. That last image he had of Benz, Frankie holding his gun to his head as the two of them yelled at each other, was burned into Danny's brain. An instant later, Frankie had pulled the trigger and Danny's last memory of Frankie before they slipped him into the body bag was his friend on the ground, blood everywhere.
And that was how Kara saw Debbie.
Sure, there were differences. Debbie lived, for one. And from what Kara said, Debbie slashed her wrists so the damage was less ... extreme. But Kara was only six. A child. Danny pictured his own mother. A small-town girl from Massachusetts, she met his father when he was interning at a nuclear power plant in New Hampshire. They dated for a year until his father graduated from college with a degree in electrical engineering, got a job at the US Naval Submarine Base New London, and then his parents got married. Ten months later, Zack was born and twelve months after that, Danny arrived. Things weren't perfect, but there had never been a single moment when Danny wondered whether his mother would still be alive when he got home from school.
Kara didn't have that luxury.
Danny long ago made what peace he could with Frankie's suicide, but some small part of him would always feel responsible — the if-onlys never entirely going away. Just as a part of him remained angry at Frankie for pulling the trigger and leaving Danny behind, even if Danny understood the reasons behind the choice on an objective level. He wondered if, had Frankie miraculously survived, he would ever have completely trusted him again.
He wasn't sure he would have.
No wonder Kara kept space between herself and her mother. Obviously, Kara loved Debbie and, if asked, Danny felt certain that Kara would say she forgave Debbie long ago — although he also suspected that Kara would argue there was nothing to forgive. Trust, however, was something very different.
Trust, it turns out, was far more fragile than love.
Again Danny picked up his phone, before setting it down. Because the only person he wanted to talk to right now was Kara, but she was also the one person he didn't trust himself to call. Taking her home, leaving her at her door with only a goodnight kiss, turning down the invitation to come inside, had taken every ounce of his self-control. If he went over there now, or even invited Kara here, Danny knew exactly what would happen — they would end up having sex. And as much as that appealed on multiple levels — damn Brazil seemed a long time ago — he wasn't going to blow things now. He was going to stick to the plan.
Even if it killed him.
Years of ingrained training had Danny's hand moving before his mind registered that someone was attempting to slip the wallet from his pocket. He didn't bother looking to see who it was. There was only one person who would be stupid enough to try to pick his pocket, and stealthy enough to almost get the drop on him. "Un-funny Reyes."
Tex's voice, however, was a surprise. "Damn, I could have sworn you told me that your last name was Shemanski."
Danny spun, eyes darting between Pablo and Tex. "Since when do the two of you hang out together?" A beat later, he threw up his hands. "Never mind, I don't want to know."
But it was too late, as the two men climbed onto the empty stools at the hightop. Pablo glanced at the television and then at Tex, eyes narrowing. "You better not have lied about being a Red Sox fan."
"Probably the only true thing he's ever told you," Danny muttered. "Has he mentioned that he has a kid?"
"Two, actually," Pablo replied. Without warning, he reached out, taking a swig of Danny's beer. Ignoring Danny's protest, he turned to Tex. "Beer is untouched and warm. Pretzel bowl is still full. Think she dumped him on his ass?"
Tex shook his head at Danny mournfully. "Told you that no woman enjoys going to the shooting range on a date, even the fair Captain. Who, I would have you know," Tex added, an aside to Pablo, "is a better shot than Mr. Navy SEAL over there." Tex leaned back in his chair, studying Danny, then popped another pretzel into his mouth. "Given that you don't have any obvious bullet holes, I'll assume you got away with a hand slap."
"We didn't go to the range," Danny replied, sighing. "I got takeout and we took the boat out at Lex's cabin."
"Limp dick?" Pablo asked, his posture almost identical to Tex, and Danny cursed his luck in somehow managing to pick the bar where the two of them were having some sort of clandestine meeting. Hell, running into Rick and Courtney and dealing with them chatting about the baby incessantly would have been preferable to this. "I've heard enough stories about Captain Foster to understand she's not one to tolerate failure."
Danny glared but didn't bother responding to Pablo's juvenile attempt to rile him up.
Tex crossed his arms over his chest, studying Danny, before shaking his head. "Come on, Connecticut, talk to Papa Nolan."
Damn. Danny hadn't realized until this moment how much he did want to talk to someone. But he was fairly certain that Kara would kill both him and Pablo if he shared anything about her or Debbie with him. "I'm just here to watch the game."
"So, who's winning?" Tex asked.
Danny forced himself not to look at the screen. "The Angels are killing it. Now, shut up so I can enjoy my evening."
Tex raised a hand, stroking his currently non-existent beard, turning in Pablo's direction. "Piss-ass mood. Not watching the game. Either Cooper is sending him out of the country..."
"Unlikely," Pablo responded.
"Or he's getting himself all in a duff over something she said but is just smart enough to know that tattling is a bad plan," Tex continued.
Danny grunted. "Fuck off."
"Yup, he's sulking," Pablo replied, lifting a hand to knock knuckles with Tex. "Emotional range of a three-year-old."
"You're both assholes. And you owe me a beer, Reyes."
"Fine," Pablo said, rolling his eyes. "I'll get a round. But you better drop this Reyes business before I get back."
As Pablo disappeared, Tex crossed his arms over his chest. "He's gone. Spill."
It was clear that Tex wasn't going to let this go and, having been on the receiving end of Tex's grilling before, Danny knew that the man was like a dog with a bone. He sighed, weighing what he could say without betraying Kara's trust.
"Kara told me something about her childhood. It got me thinking about Benz." Danny nodded towards the television. "He was from LA, you know. An Angels fan."
Tex took another pretzel, chewing slowly before responding. "I spent some time with Debbie and Peter when y'all shipped out that first time. It started because I was keeping an eye on your girl for you, but Peter and me got friendly. Debbie has what a guy might call a lot of baggage."
"How do you and Andrea manage it?" Danny blurted, realizing even as he said the words that he was crossing a line by asking about the man's personal life. "All I want to do is take care of Kara. But she doesn't need my help."
"Oh Danny-boy," Tex shook his head. "Red doesn't need me. She wants me. That's what matters."
Danny scowled. "If you aren't going to take this seriously..."
"And Cooper claims that I have the dirty mind," Tex scoffed. "Not in the sack, although we certainly don't have any problems in that area." Tex winked at Danny, who rolled his eyes. "Here's the deal, Connecticut. It doesn't matter whether Kara needs you around if she wants you around. Red doesn't need me to hang her pictures or pick up dinner when she's stuck late at work, but she likes it when I do that shit. And when Red wants to do something completely messed up like fly to Rota with a six-weeks who screams like a banshee from takeoff to landing, I try to remember that she usually has a good reason for doing something nutty."
Danny stared at Tex. "You make it sound so simple."
"Simple, yes. Easy no."
Just then Pablo returned with three fresh beers, glancing between Danny and Tex. "You two done with the private time or should I go back to the bar?"
"Thanks." Danny gazed at the foam on his beer, smiling slightly as a memory surfaced. "Remember the time Benz fell off that second floor hotel balcony trying to juggle those beer bottles?"
Pablo shot a look at Tex who, to Danny's immense relief, didn't so much as blink at the change in topic. Tex took a swig of his own beer. "This is a night of discovery, Mr. Reyes. I take it that you also knew Lieutenant Benz?"
Somewhat to Danny's surprise, Pablo slid onto a stool. No comment on Tex's use of the last name that, as far as Danny knew, didn't even show up on Pablo's official record.
"Benz." Pablo swirled his drink. "God, that kid was trouble. I thought the manager was going to shit a brick when he saw the hole in the hedge."
"I never met the guy myself but he sounds like my kind of man," Tex lifted his glass. "To Frankie Benz."
Danny nodded to Tex, an acknowledgment and a thank you. "To Benz."
