Saturday, after breakfast, he played a game of checkers with Sean. "Good game last night, kiddo. Wore you out, though." Sean had fallen asleep as soon as he got in the car.
The eleven-year-old nodded. "It was great!" He launched into an animated discussion of some very cool thing he had done on the field, which Danny had sorta noticed.
Sean jumped one of Danny's checkers. He cheered. "I'm gonna win!"
Danny cleared his throat. "Sean-O, do you ever wish I wasn't your dad?" He moved one of his checkers.
"That's a stupid question," the kid said. "Of course not." He kicked Danny's foot. "You're not paying attention, Dad, I just jumped two of your checkers."
Danny shook himself. "Sorry, kid." He moved another checker. "So…why do you like having me as your dad?"
Sean shrugged. "You're the only dad I've got. You come to all of my and Jack's games, unless you're working. And if you don't come, it's because you're keeping us safe, not sitting at home drinking beer. Not like my friend Nick's dad—he never comes to Nick's games."
"Sorry to hear about Nick, kid. Is he in your class?"
Sean nodded.
Danny jumped three of Sean's checkers. "Crown me, please."
Sean scowled at him and crowned his piece. "You're not asking me all these questions because you're, like, gonna try to kill yourself and actually do it this time, are you?"
The words hit him like an eleven-foot-wave.
He stood up, walked around the table, and pulled his younger boy into a hug. "No, Sean. I promise you, it's nothing like that. I'm making a list of reasons to help me stay alive, and you and your brother and your mom are at the top of that list of reasons. I promise you, Sean, I am not going to try to kill myself again. Right now I'm doing everything I can to stay alive. I promise."
Sean burst into tears, and Danny rubbed his back. "Shhh, kiddo, I'm not going anywhere, I promise you, Sean-o. Shhh."
When Sean had calmed down, they finished the game.
Sean won, and wandered off to play video games with Jack.
Danny put the game away, then sank into a chair at the kitchen table, leaned his head in his good hand.
He had really screwed up. His kids were always gonna live in fear now, waiting to see if he were going to try to kill himself again.
He almost wished they'd never told the boys what was wrong with him…
He jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder. "Easy, Dan."
"Dad. Thought you'd gone to brunch with Erin."
"She cancelled; Nikki's sick."
"That stinks. Before you ask, I'm fine, Dad."
The older Reagan sat down across from him. "That's not what I was going to ask. I was going to ask what you wanted to ask me last night before you bolted."
He sighed, shook his head. "Stupid shrink homework."
"You know I'm proud of you for seeing Dr. Dawson, Danny."
"Really, because years of 'Reagans don't do drugs' and 'Reagans don't do therapy' sorta says otherwise."
"Danny, I talked to someone. Briefly. After Joe died. When John McKenna was dying. I didn't have the tenacity that you have, or your willingness to be vulnerable, so it didn't work. What is it you need to ask me, son?"
Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Do we have to do this now?"
"No, but you're the one with homework and a doctor who won't be happy if you don't have it done by Monday."
He shook his head. "I can't do this now." He pushed his chair back and walked into the living room.
Linda was on the couch reading. He sat down next to her. "Talked to Sean."
"Good. How'd that go?"
He shrugged, winced. "I don't know. He cried. Now both of our kids are terrified that I'm going to kill myself. Did we really have to tell them the truth?"
Linda put her arm around his good shoulder. "Yes."
His shoulders slumped. "Thanks for…listening last night."
Sometime between 10:30 p.m. and 2 a.m., he had told her everything about that night two weeks ago.
"You're welcome. What are you doing in here instead of talking to your dad?"
He shook his head. "I couldn't…."
"Go take a walk with him. The sun's shining, the snow's supposed to hold off until tonight; the brisk air will do you good."
Their usual route for a walk was out; there was no way in hell Danny wanted to go anywhere near the pier where his dad fished. He hoped he hadn't ruined that spot for him now. He should have thought of that before he crashed the car there.
They ambled over to a local park, sat down on a bench.
Danny pulled his coat more tightly about him. "You can't stay away from the office forever, Dad."
"I'm not; I go in for a couple hours each day; Garrett and Baker and the rest of my team take care of the things that don't need me personally. Right now, you're my top priority, Danny. Now, what's on your mind, son?"
He wanted to bolt.
He stared at his hands. "Doc wants me to make a list of reasons to keep living."
That sounded a little less stupid out loud than it had in his head.
He took a shaky breath, winced. "My family is at the top of that list. But I…I'm having a hard time seeing why any of you want me around, so Doc…"
He sighed, shook his head.
"Doc wants me to ask each of you: What…what positive things…do…do I bring to your life?"
That sounded more stupid than it had in his head.
Next to him, his father sighed. "Danny, look at me."
He couldn't.
"Danny."
He shook his head. "I know, it's a stupid question."
"No, it's not. Not if it could save your life. Look at me, son. Please."
Now he really wanted to bolt.
He glanced at his dad out of the corner of his eye.
The older Reagan's face was impassive, but his eyes were filled with more love and anguish and respect than Danny remembered seeing…possibly ever.
"Danny…you're my son. That makes me immensely proud of you. That's the number one positive thing you bring to my life."
He rolled his eyes. "O come on, Dad. Cut the sentimental crap."
"It's neither sentiment nor crap, Danny. It's the honest truth."
He scoffed. "Come on, I know I disappoint you. I'm just a grunt, I cross the line at work, I'm a blight on the Reagan name."
"None of those things is true, Danny. You don't cross the line; you walk on the line. You have never disappointed me a day in your life. Made me angry, yes; disappointed me, never."
He kicked at a rock with his shoe. He wished he could believe his father.
"I tried to kill myself twice, Dad; are you honestly gonna tell me that didn't disappoint you?"
"Yes, I am. It made me very sad that you were in so much pain you thought ending your life was the only solution; but I was not disappointed in you."
Danny cursed. "There's no way in hell you're going to sit there and tell me you're still proud of me, not after…"
He pressed his hand to his eyes. This conversation was making his head hurt.
"Danny, against all odds, you are still alive. And what makes me proud right now is that you are trying to stay alive. The fact that you are sitting here talking about this with me, when I know you would rather be shot, makes me very proud of you."
He stood up, walked over to the slide, leaned on the ladder. "I wish I could believe you, Dad."
"Do you really think I would lie to you?"
He shook his head. "No, it…it's not that. It's…it's me, Dad. I've had this conversation with Jack, Linda, and Sean, and I'm not sure I believe anything they've said, either."
"Can you at least try, because you know none of us would lie to you?"
He nodded, cursed. Now the jackhammers had started up again in his head.
"Come on, son, let's go home, get you warmed up and get some pain meds in you."
They walked home quietly.
He really wanted to walk up the stairs to his old bedroom, crawl under the covers, and fall asleep; but he wasn't supposed to be napping during the daytime.
So he put one foot in front of the other and walked into the living room.
He sat down on the couch, closed his eyes.
He'd definitely overdone it on that walk.
His head was pounding, his arm was on fire and each breath stabbed like a knife.
"Let me get you a pain pill," Linda whispered.
He swallowed it with the glass of milk she pressed into his hand.
Linda sat down next to him, rubbed his shoulders. "You and your dad talk?"
"Yeah." He started to nod, then stopped. Not a good idea if he wanted to keep his breakfast where it belonged. "I'm all talked-out. Can't handle another difficult conversation. I'm going to go stir-crazy, Linda. I can't drive, I can't play darts, I already played checkers and went for a walk and it's only 10 a.m."
"Close your eyes and get some rest, Danny."
"Not supposed to be napping."
"Doc just doesn't want you spending the whole day in bed. Rest, and let the pain medication do its job."
He stretched out on the couch and fell asleep with Linda rubbing his back.