A/N: The scars that are mentioned as being below Danny's "Semper Fi" tattoo can be seen in Season 2, Episode 5, "A Night on the Town," at 39:42.
He jumped when a hand shook his shoulder. "Danny!" Linda sounded worried.
He blinked. They were in the car, and it wasn't moving. They were sitting in the driveway.
Somehow, he had missed the entire drive home.
He turned to Linda but couldn't find any words. She squeezed his hand, then got out of the car.
She unlocked the door, let the boys in, and then stood there waiting for him.
He undid his seat-belt, got out of the car, and walked into the house.
Everything looked fuzzy, sounded far-off. Was he having a flashback…?
He was shaking with exhaustion by the time he got to the top of the stairs, and he showered and changed on auto-pilot.
He sat down on the bed, jumped when Linda put her arms around him. "Easy, Danny, it's just me."
"Sorry," he whispered, and picked up the bottle of Zoloft from his bedside table, dry-swallowed one.
"It's okay, you're safe, Danny. Whatever you're remembering isn't real."
He nodded shakily.
He felt hot, dry, like he'd been wandering around the desert towns of Fallujah for the past six months.
But he was in his room…he could see the closet, and Linda, and feel his bed underneath him.
He was safe.
From everything except the memories inside his head.
His hand went to his tattoo, and the scars just below it. His heart was trying to fight its way out of his chest, and his scars were throbbing in unison. He cursed. He didn't have to be a shrink to know his scars only hurt like that when he'd been thinking about Fallujah.
"Are the boys okay?"
"The boys are fine. Right now, you're the one I'm worried about. You haven't said a word since I walked into Dawson's office."
"Sorry." He reached for her, and buried his face in her shoulder. He was shaking…this was shock, he'd felt it after each close call in Fallujah…and he cursed under his breath, flinched when her arms came around him.
"Shhh, Danny… I know it hurts, I know. I've got you, babe. I'm here."
Snap out of it, Marine! he told himself. But he couldn't snap out of it, he couldn't make the tears stop, and he clung to her. "I…I can't…"
"Shhh…it's okay, Danny. It's okay."
He shook his head…it wasn't okay…and gave in to the tears and the suffocating waves.
When he could breathe again, he lifted his head, swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Doc told me I had to…face the pain, if I wanted to get better. I told him I'd rather not. But now, I…I can't get away from it. It hurts, Linda."
She rubbed his back. "I know, Danny, I know. You've kept everything from Iraq bottled up for so long…Doc said you told him everything. I can't imagine how much that hurt."
He scoffed. "Everything? I wish. I just told him some of the worst things that happened. It'd probably take a year of sessions—twice a week—to tell him everything."
He let out a shaky breath. "There's something…I need to tell you, babe. I haven't thought about this in years…until tonight. But I need you to hear me out…promise me you won't say a word until I'm done."
"I promise. I'm listening, Danny."
He cleared his throat. Damn, this was hard. "While I was…trying to talk John Russell down…one of the things I told him was that…I'd been where he was. I…I didn't make that up."
She gasped but didn't say anything.
He swallowed hard. "About two months after I got home, you called me to tell me Sean had a 101˚ fever. Remember that day?"
Her head nodded against his shoulder.
He slipped his arm around her shoulders, needing to feel her close. "Your call…saved my life. I'd just spent twenty minutes sitting in my car with my service weapon at my head, because I…I couldn't handle the memories anymore. I never told you because…I thought you'd think I was a coward. I'm sorry," he said, and cursed when his voice cracked.
She gasped, and then hugged him so hard his ribs throbbed.
"You are not a coward, Danny. How…how did you keep going?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. I realized…you and the boys needed me. So I shoved everything else down. Sheer Irish stubbornness, I guess."
She kissed him gently. "The boys and I still need you just as much as we did then. Jack wants to talk to you before he goes to bed."
He nodded, pulled on his bathrobe, swiped at his eyes, and walked down to his older son's room. Jack was reading Lord of the Rings, his latest favorite. "Hey, kiddo, how come you aren't asleep?"
Jack shrugged. "You looked really sad when we picked you up earlier. Are you okay, Dad? You… you've been crying."
He nodded, sat down on the bed next to his boy. "I will be, kiddo. I…just…remembering stuff that happened in Iraq makes me really sad. But I'll be okay." He ruffled Jack's hair. "School tomorrow, so you need to get some sleep. Maybe we'll do something fun on Saturday, okay?"
Jack nodded, tackled him in a bear-hug. "'Night, Dad."
"'Night, kiddo; love you."
Back in their bedroom, he shucked off his bathrobe, lay down. Linda snuggled up to him, laid her head over his heart. "You gonna be able to sleep?"
He shrugged, ran his fingers through her hair. "I…I don't know. I wish this blasted pill did something for nightmares." He let out a shaky breath. "Love you."
"Love you more."
He took a shaky, shuddery breath. "Love you most."