IV

Danny awoke with a yelp. He let a groan follow when he realised he had just dreamt and was now sitting bolt upright in his bed at four a.m., wide awake of course

Great, another freakin' nightmare.

He'd had so many of them since that night he'd lost count a long time ago. They'd become a little less frequent about a week after the ambush, but still they kept haunting him every other night, sometimes more often. And they always contained pictures of a wounded Martin bleeding to death on a cold street, always leaving Danny to wake up, feeling helpless and so, so angry.

He didn't even know for sure who or what caused the anger – but like always the by now well-known furiousness crept into his body and mind once again, making it impossible to get back to sleep.

So with another groan he finally got up, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and walked into his tiny living-room to sit on the couch and turn on the TV.

He briefly thought about the last day; the dead man at the morgue, his embarrassing reaction to that sight, the unpleasant conversation he'd had with Jack, Detective Rush…

Hell, no! No thinking about her now!

After their visit at Mrs Guerin's they'd both decided to call it a day and she'd let him get off the car at the next subway station so he could make his way home and they'd agreed to meet in the morning around eight, at the office. By the time they'd parted the atmosphere between them had been icy, and Danny had been happy to get away from her. She was making him angry, too.

Most things seemed to make him angry lately.

When he'd got home he'd decided to get an early night and had gone straight to bed. He should have known it wasn't a good idea, because he'd wake up early, but he spent most of the last night up, working on his team's last case and therefore, he'd been pretty tired by the time he'd arrived at his apartment.

His team.

He wondered for how long there would be his team. Lately, the team just seemed to be falling apart. He had no idea whether they were or were not going to make it through these hard times. Especially Martin.

Martin.

Guilt rose up inside Danny. He thought of how he'd called off the meeting with his friend. It had been set for a week, and he'd really meant to go! After all, he knew from what Sam had said that Martin kept asking about him.

He's worried about you Danny.

He had actually no idea why Martin would be worried about him but he'd set his mind on showing his friend that there was no need to worry. And then again, he'd found another excuse to put it off. Not even a good one, either…

The truth was, he'd been too afraid to go, still vividly remembering the last time he'd gone to see Martin, how seeing him in the hospital had caused Danny to feel guilty… for not having ended up the same way, for not having been able to help him any better, for not…just for everything he had not done.

And yet, now he now felt guilty for not going.

It seemed he could only do wrong, whatever he decided to do.

Reaching for the remote control Danny started to flip through the channels to try and find something that could distract him from his dark thoughts for a while. When he found a channel where there was some cheap porn on, he put the remote back on the table and watched for a while, hoping this would maybe help him loose his tenseness – but he quickly realised that what once he may have liked watching now seemed all silly and embarrassing to him.

So after staring at the screen for a while without any reaction whatsoever, he turned the TV off with a sigh. The anger was still there inside him, and maybe some physical exercise might help to get rid of it. He could go for a nice long run, spent all of this angry energy – he'd done it before, actually quite often lately, and in most cases it worked – and afterwards he could get ready to go to work early. After all, he still had that report to write.

Nodding in agreement with himself Danny rose from the couch, seen as now he at least had a plan.

………………

When Special Agent Samantha Spade got out of her car, she was sure she'd for once be the first to arrive at work; it was only about a quarter past seven and usually everybody was due in at eight. But Sam hadn't slept well and had finally got up at six. She hadn't been able to shake the memories of that last evening; Martin had called her. He'd sounded worried, but knowing him well enough, Sam had also detected hints of sadness in his still weak voice as he spoke.

"How's Danny? He okay?"

Sam didn't really understand why Martin was so concerned. Sure, Danny had been in that car, too – but to Sam he'd always appeared to be somebody who wouldn't let himself get unsettled by this kind of thing so easily. And apart from that incident at the morgue the previous day – and there could have been any reason for that – and being a bit tired from time to time when he hadn't slept well, Danny seemed quite fine to Sam.

As she rode up the elevator she checked the time again. 7.26. Sam snorted at her watch. This was way too early. She wasn't in a good mood. But she guessed that waking up early after a night like she'd just had could do that to a woman. Giving its stupid 'pling!' the elevator arrived at the desired floor and Sam stepped out of it and walked down the corridor.

Considering the time she'd arrived she was actually surprised to find that Danny was already there – sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on his computer screen.

She briefly wondered if he had slept any better than her; he didn't look like he had – in fact he looked like he hadn't slept at all – but no matter for how long she watched him; pity just wouldn't come. She was too angry with him to feel sorry.

Despite knowing better she walked over to him.

"Morning." She couldn't help her voice sounding cold.

"Morning…" He didn't avert his eyes from the computer.

He obviously expected that if he didn't make any conversation she would leave again, but she remained standing where she was until, finally, she gathered the wanted attention; Danny turned away from the computer and looked up into her eyes, his eyebrows arched up. "Is there anything I can help you with?" He sounded annoyed.

"I just wanted to tell you Martin says hi."

Sam could have sworn that the expression in Danny's eyes changed for a split second, to looking hurt and guilty at the same time, but before Sam could make out if that was really the case, he had lost that look again and she could feel her anger rise once more. "You know, he was pretty down last night about you cancelling your visit."

"I'm sorry about that." Danny had continued to type and stare at the computer. "How's he doing?"

"Getting better. Not thanks to you, though."

"Well, I'm not a damn doctor, am I?" He didn't even look at her as they were speaking!

"That's not what I meant, Danny."

No reaction.

"You could at least have made the effort to show up at his place once. He says he hasn't seen you in two weeks. And he's worried about you."

"Tell him not to be."

"You should tell him yourself."

Again – no reaction. Sam could feel her patience wear out. "I can't understand why you're so selfish."

Now he did look up at her again, eyes wide open: "Look who's talking, Sam. You should be the last person telling me about selfishness, given how you've treated him beforeit."

"Well, at least I've visited him in the hospital and at home and…" She did have more to say, but was interrupted by the noise of Danny's cell phone ringing.

He answered the call and she listened to what he was saying: "Taylor… Detective Rush, hi… okay…? No, it's no problem, I'm here already, anyways… no, I haven't eaten, yet, either… yeah, that's a good idea. I'll be there in ten. Bye." He shut down the computer and rose from his chair, grabbing his coat which he'd obviously tossed carelessly on his desk earlier. "Look, Sam, as much as I've enjoyed our little morning chat, I gotta go now." Without another word he walked out, leaving a perplex Sam behind watching him leave.

………………

Lilly bit heartily into her doughnut and enjoyed its taste for a moment before swilling it down with a sip of her strong black coffee. Amused, she watched Danny Taylor who was sitting in the booth opposite her, crumbling his dry bagel into pieces, every now and then putting a piece into his mouth and chewing on it considerably long. He looked a bit exhausted this morning and she wondered if he was ok.

"Seems, you're not a man of great appetite, Agent Taylor", she finally remarked.

His eyes met hers as his looked up from his plate and he suddenly grinned. "Well, you've met me at a bad time to prove you that I actually am."

Lilly grinned back. They'd spent the first five minutes of their morning meeting apologizing to eachother for their behaviour the last day, as none of the seemed willing to work another whole day in this icy atmosphere. Then they'd got themselves some breakfast, and now Lilly couldn't wait any longer.

Taylor obviously had noticed because he looked at her expectantly. "So… what's the big news?"

"I got a call this morning from my partner; they disinterred Dina Larstrom's body – or rather what's left of it – for an autopsy."

"Great, that's improving my appetite", Taylor joked but got serious again very quickly. "So what?"

"Well, Scotty – that's my partner…"

"So I gathered."

"Will you let me finish? Scottys says that the bones reveal that Mrs Larstrom must have broken her collar bone when she was still alive. It healed but one could still tell it was once broken."

"So?"

"When Scotty spoke with Mrs Larstrom mother he mentioned it. By coincidence, actually. But it turns out the mother says that it was impossible, because Dina had never broken a bone at all. So Scotty and the guys started to investigate further and got her complete case history from her doctor and…"

"Let me guess – there was never a broken collar bone."

Lilly nodded. "So, either she did brake her it and didn't have it treated – which I find hard to believe or…"

"… or it wasn't Mrs. Larstrom who got buried in that grave", Taylor finished the sentence for her, fully alert now and his dark eyes were sparkling, eagerly.