Depression: A mental condition characterized by feelings of severe despondency and dejection, typically also with feelings of inadequacy and guilt, often accompanied by lack of energy and disturbance of appetite and sleep. [Oxford Dictionary]
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Today
"So you brought her to the shelter, and Ray is still so pissed after 19 years that he wanted to kill you?" Steve took a deep breath, not really convinced that this was the whole story. "What a psycho." He shot a sideway glance at Danny who shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"N-no," Danny finally confessed. "It's not that simple… as I said, I was young and hot headed and susceptible. Brooke didn't agree to come with me, at least not then. She said she would think about it, and when I left the library I had the feeling she really would consider it. I worked some day shifts for the next weeks, and although we met several times after work to talk about the shelter and a probable way to get her there safe, she never really gave me the green light." Danny scratched the back of his head and carefully smoothed his hair back down before he continued. "I got literally obsessed with the wish to help her. And the more I got to know her, the more I realized that she needed the help. She was such a fine, sensitive, intelligent and witty woman and deserved better than that alcoholic asshole-"
"Danny." Steve leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table and looked at his friend. "Did you fall in love with her?"
Danny swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with the motion. "I can't tell, Steve. I really can't tell. I definitely felt attracted to her, but love? I, I don't know. Perhaps, under different circumstances, we would have fallen in love with each other, but as it was... No, it was not love. God, I was so so young and so so stupid! When Brooke finally agreed to come with me to the shelter, she gave me a bag with clothes and stuff, things she hadn't worn in ages, so Ray wouldn't notice their absence in the closet. I planned to bring the bag to the shelter in advance, and fetch Brooke an hour or two later. She wanted to get some things settled in the house first, she said.
"When I came to the shelter, though, they told me they had to give the spare place I organized for Brooke to another woman who had needed it instantly, but that the next day a place would be free for Brooke. I hadn't even left the property of the shelter when Brooke called me, crying. Saying that Ray had noticed how nervous she was all day and had threatened her if she was up to something. She had told him that she wanted to visit her sister and be home later, and although he had accepted that, she knew she had to get to the shelter before he decided to call her sister or even show up at her door."
Rubbing a hand over his tired-looking face, Danny continued. "It was a catastrophe. I met Brooke at our venue, but when I had to tell her that the shelter was full, she started to cry all over again and wanted to get out of the car. I was able to soothe her and brought her to a motel in a suburb. I left her there, told her to lock the door and only open when she heard a certain knock." Unconsciously, Danny's left hand drummed a short rhythm on the table. "When I came back I brought something to eat with me, because, well, I don't know why I came back that night. I was so stupid, Steve, so damn stupid!"
Steve watched Danny silently. The words literally spilled out of him, and although Steve could see that the memory was painful, it also seemed cathartic for Danny to finally tell someone.
"She was still shy and silent, but something was different about her when she let me in and we ate the food. She had turned the radio on, and after a while, she could laugh, and she seemed to relax, and she was literally glowing with a newfound hope, Steve — she was so beautiful. Then there was this song on the radio. It was so infectious, and then... I — we — I can't tell who started it, but when I came back to my senses, I had lost my shirt. She was wearing just the top she had under her blouse, and her fingers were working on my belt to open it…" Danny gulped, shaking his head. "It was then that she stopped, too. We looked at each other, and everything was — was so weird. I mean, I never wanted to — she was my protege, how could I, and yet… So I just grabbed my shirt and said I had to go, that it would be a mistake to go further, and that I would come back tomorrow to bring her to the shelter… I don't know how long I have been driving around without a destination, but I ended up at Rick's house, and although it was pitch black Rick let me in and talked with me."
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19 years ago
Rick's hair was ruffled, and he already wore his pajamas, but he moved aside, so Danny could enter and closed the door carefully behind him. "Kim and Cole are asleep, come on." Motioning at Danny to follow him into the kitchen as if it was regular that Danny showed up at his doorstep at half past one at night, Rick trudged to the coffee machine and set it up before turning around. He leaned against the counter; arms crossed, and looked invitingly at Danny. "Okay, D., spill it. You don't show up at this time here if there's not something that preys on your mind. What's going on? No, wait. It's Brooke again, right?" A smile appeared on Rick's face, half sarcastic, half sympathetic.
Danny sighed and took two mugs out of the cupboard next to Rick's head. "I, well… I… yeah, it's because of Brooke," he then gave in, fixating the coffee machine and waiting until it was done. "I brought her to a safe place. Away from Ray."
Rick frowned, and then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Daniel Williams, knight in a shining armor, huh? So you wore her down, as you always do with me, yeah?" He shook his head. "I hope you made it clear that it's not just about leaving. It's also about staying away."
"Yes, of course." Danny poured some coffee into the mugs and handed one over to Rick. He sipped from the hot brew, the small sip helping to clear his agitated mind. "And I promised her I'll be there along the way. Getting out was only the first-"
"You what?!" Rick winced when he heard how loud his own voice sounded in the otherwise silent house. He paused, listened, but no sound from above was heard, indicating that his wife or son had woken up from the noise. He breathed in, slow, deep, clearly trying to rein himself in. "You promised her? D., what have you gotten yourself into? We are cops. We never promise anything to people! Especially not when it's out of our responsibility! We have to stay neutral!"
"Yeah, right. Like you did with Eric?" Danny put the mug down, angry now.
"Eric is family, Danny, your family. There's a difference!"
"Really, Rick? You're pulling this card now? Well, Brooke doesn't have a family, so-"
"So you jumped in and took that part over, huh? Oh, D. …" As fast as he had gotten louder, again, Rick calmed down. "Okay, okay. So Brooke means something to you, I take it? I can tell you, it won't work. It cannot work."
Danny stared at Rick. "Oh, yeah, because why, Rick, huh? Huh? Because she's married and off the market? Well, she's going to file for divorce, and once all is over, she'll be free!"
Rick emptied his mug, putting it aside. He reached out and squeezed Danny's shoulder, shook him lightly. "D., D. … You're already deeper in than I thought. Okay. Listen to me. I've never given you bad advice, right? I've seen this before. It never works. Believe me, please! She will never be free of Ray. Not as long as he's not rotting in prison or dead. And even then there's no guarantee she can move on and get rid of what he did to her."
"Well, I'm willing to give it a try." Danny set his jaw.
Rick sighed and put his other hand on Danny's shoulder, thus forcing him gently to look into his eyes. "I know you are. And you know I'll always be there for you when something happens, right? We're partners, D., and although I disagree with you here, that won't change." He patted Danny's cheek and moved a step backward when Danny's phone rang, to give him some space to pull the device out of his pants pocket.
"Williams here. Brooke? What — WHAT?! Why? Oh, sh-... no, stay put, stay where you are, I'm calling an ambulance, I'm already on my way! Just don't move, it's okay, I'm coming!"
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Today
They had gotten up quite some time ago; Steve had noticed how restless and anxious Danny became, the further he went on with his story, and had moved toward the beach, Danny following suit.
Now, Danny took another step forward and watched as the ocean nipped at his bare toes, pulled back and surged forward again with the next wave. Steve was standing a few steps behind him, hands tucked away into his board shorts' pockets. His fingers itched; hell, his whole body itched to move and just do something, anything. Pulling Danny into a fierce hug and trying to protect him from the memories that haunted him; trying to protect him like he always tried to do, and yet seemed to fail so miserably recently.
Or pulling Ray out of his stretcher in the morgue would be a good start; reviving him with Hawaiian magic and then killing him again suddenly sounded like a feasible and very satisfying goal. And maybe reviving and killing him two, three more times, just for good measure. It was not only because the psycho had wanted and almost succeeded to kill Danny; no, it was more because of the way that man had influenced the lives of so many other people in such a negative manner that almost got them killed, and still had blamed all responsibility on the others. The eternal victim.
"Ray had called her sister some hours after she left. I remember, while I drove back to the motel together with Rick, that I wished that Ray would have called the sister sooner and would have shown up at the motel when I still was there. I had promised her to protect her, and then I hadn't been there." Danny shook his head, continued without turning to Steve, knowing the other man was right there, right behind him and listening.
"He beat her up pretty bad. She was so hurt! Her face was bloody and swollen, and he cracked some ribs, broke her wrist, her nose… They loaded her into the ambulance, and then Rick took me aside. He was shocked too, of course, and there was something in his eyes… He told me he would accompany Brooke to the hospital and make sure that she would get protection there. And said that there was a way to stop Ray, to stop him and to put him away, without me ending up in a trial for murdering him."
Steve nodded, although Danny couldn't see it. When Danny now told him what he had done, how he had set up Ray and had let himself get beaten black and blue, his fingers itched again to reach out to Danny and just hold him. Ray Gardner had injured Danny twice, and Steve hoped that his soul rotted in the deepest, darkest hell.
"The trial against Ray Gardner for battery against a police officer and for assault and battery against his wife was about three, four months later. They were pretty fast on this one. Most certainly, because Rick had pulled some strings and found two former girlfriends of Ray who also testified against him. Seemed as if they only waited for someone to speak up for them to come out and tell what he had done to them. The judge was assured by Ray's history and the fact that he had attacked me, although he knew I was a police officer, that he had to be put away for a long time to secure public tranquility. He was sentenced to 15 years in prison and had to undergo some measures during that time to learn anti-aggressive behavior."
"Well, that didn't really work out." Steve huffed and moved forward until he stood next to Danny.
"No." Danny chuckled. "Not really, no. As I found out today, Ray had lost everything. Brooke sold the house soon after the trial and the speed-divorce, and moved to the West Coast. I've never heard of her again, and he obviously neither. When he was released from prison four years ago, he didn't get a job, a house, nothing… lived from welfare and handouts. Guess that cemented in his head that he was a victim of Brooke, of the other girls and me. Oh, no…" Danny turned to Steve, an alarmed look in his eyes. "Steve, I think we need to find out if he harmed or even killed the others, too! Brooke is okay, she'll be here in a few days to decide what shall happen with Ray's body. I contacted her after you were called to the Governor. But the other two…"
"I'll inform NYPD tomorrow, they'll know where to find them. Or if anything has happened to them." Steve threw a glance at Danny. "You want me to be there, too? When Brooke comes?"
Danny smiled, and for the first time since he had started to talk about what had happened, it was a genuine one. "No, thanks, babe. I can handle this alone."
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19 years ago
"Hey."
"Hey. Come in." Brooke opened the door further to let Danny in and stepped aside, but didn't reciprocate his wide smile. He shrugged and went straight through to the living room, arms full of unfolded moving boxes. She followed slower, staying in the doorframe. Danny put the boxes down and methodically started to bend them until they were set up. When Brooke still didn't move, Danny paused and looked up to her from his crouched position.
"Okay. What's wrong, Brooke?"
She made a step forward, hesitated, moved another step and then hesitated again. "I — it's just. I, I'm not sure I can do this." She crumpled on the couch.
Danny frowned. "Why, there's enough time, I'm just the vanguard, my siblings will be here in about an hour, and-"
"No, not, not this. This." She gestured around, encompassing the whole living room, the whole house.
It took Danny another moment to understand. He sat back and pulled his knees up, hands resting lightly on the kneecaps. "Ray won't come back," he finally said, repeating what he had told her over and over again in the last months. Even when she had decided to leave, to move somewhere else and start anew, he hadn't stopped to reaffirm it. "You are free, Brooke. You are allowed to sell the house because it's yours! You got it from your parents. You can do whatever you want to do." He smiled, hoping it was an encouraging one.
She stared at her fingers, scratching off the rest of the polish from a nail. "He has to go to prison because of me, Danny. I've destroyed his life! And mine, and yours! And I'm not sure I can go on with that knowledge, I don't know what to do! There has always been someone to tell me what to do, I just, I can't."
Danny blinked and stood up, moved closer to her, slowly, carefully. "Brooke, first of all, no. You did not destroy his life. He destroyed yours. Stop blaming yourself for things that were not your fault."
She sighed soundless, her shoulders going up and down. "But if I hadn't been that clumsy or annoying, he never would have had to raise his hand. Or… or if I'd had the guts to leave him before it came to all this…" She was crying now, a silent, desperate, hopeless weeping.
"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, no." Danny sat down next to her and, after a short moment of hesitation, pulled her into his arms. It was the second time he was touching her at all in all those months since he had stepped up to her and Ray's door in the middle of the night, and this time there was no misguided and impulsive reason behind it. She needed support; the helping arms of a friend who was nothing more than this: a friend, giving in to her need of physical contact. "Forget about all those ifs and whens, Brooke. You did leave him, and he will no longer be a part of your life. And about what to do, what about you start to tell me what to put into which box, mhm?"
When she finally stopped crying and moved a bit so he knew he could release her, she wiped away the tears and succeeded to produce a shaky smile. "Thank you, Danny. Thank you for everything."