They were crossing their fourth street and Danny was getting tired. He may have been a few years younger than the man he was following, but the latter was far more trained and physically fit. The fact that the New Yorker was a smoker didn't help him with his pursuit either.
He didn't know why he was doing this. He didn't know why the guy just bolted and ran away. He didn't know why he reacted the way he did. What he did know was that he needed to stop him, at least enough to calm him down to a slower pace.
This reminded him of one night back when he was still stationed in Al Amara, Iraq. His good friend and comrade, Pvt. Matthew Prew, were buddied up and checked what looked like at the time was an abandoned house. The fellow marine volunteered to walk in first thus was caught in the receiving end of a shower of bullets. Mac would be dead by now if it weren't for him. He didn't just take a bullet from him; he took a dozen and died in the brunette's arms.
The following morning he had to wrap his head around the fact that Prew died. He had to accept it. He had to suck it up. He had to get over it quick. He couldn't do what he was suppose to do if he was too busy mourning. He knew he needed to be ready. He had to be strong. He didn't talk about it, didn't feel like he could, not to anyone. So he did what he did best, he worked and worked some more. When he was told to take a break he reluctantly did, by running. He ran six miles that day, twelve if you consider his running back to camp before it got too dark. He just had to do something, any…
"What the… umph." His train of thought was broken when he found himself toppled over on the ground, with a familiar man down beside him gasping. He felt something tangled around his ankle. He looks to his feet and saw the other man's foot stepping on his own.
"You tripped me?" he asked in a confused and angry tone, finding his breath for his voice.
"Yes I did." He replied as victoriously as he could while taking quick deep breaths. Then he began to stand up.
"Why?" the marine asked, his tone not wavering, as he picked himself up.
"Because I ain't a big fan of running." He answered as he patted the dirt of his clothes.
"I wasn't running." He was quick to defend his pride.
"Fine." He sarcastically agreed. "You were speed walking."
They took their time. There was this tense pause in the cold night air between them. It took them a while to actually talk to each other again. The blue-eyed man waited for the clearly unstable and angry officer.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said in between deep breaths.
"I'm not asking you to," he said firmly, trying to catch his breath.
There was another pause, as if he needed the time to digest what he had just said.
"Why did you trip me?" he asked again, in the same tone.
"Because you were run-" he answered, just before he could finish what he was saying was quickly corrected by a furious glare from the other man. "Walk, you were walking to only God knows where in a neighborhood you've only known as long as me."
He let the words sink in before he replied. "Why is this any of your concern?"
The aquamarine eyed young man takes his time before answering his question. He looks at him, trying not to react to his first clear sight of the man's anger "Because it's no one else's." he answered in words he felt the man would have said to him if he asked the same question. He doesn't reply, but his face considerably softens. "The subway is just a couple of blocks away from here… Walk you there?" he asked carefully.
"I can manage." He replied, standing up straight.
"Don't even try to stop me," he quickly quipped. "You know for a fact I'm a stubborn son of a bitch."
It took a couple of seconds but the stubborn New Yorker was replied by a small nod of blatant acceptance to his second offer of guidance. The emerald-eyed man let out his hand to the direction of the city sidewalk as if to sarcastically say 'lead the way'. He doesn't react, but only starts to walk, slowly and easily, down the street.
They weren't talking. Who could blame them? The New Yorker felt he had to keep his mouth shut and just wait for him to break the silence, only if and when he wanted to, until they reached that familiar sunken staircase that leads into the depths of the city.
Like he said, he didn't want to talk about it, but now he felt regret for saying that so harshly, not just to Danny but for himself. He normally wouldn't talk, not about this and not to just anyone, but now he wanted to. He felt that he needed to, but he could be so hardheaded. He just needed to say something, anything.
"What time is it?" he couldn't think of anything else.
He didn't turn to answer him, but the brunette could picture that one brow up curiously. "4:20." He replied.
He only nodded. 'What now?' he asked himself a question only he could answer. He finally mustered up the courage and swallowed his pride. "I'm sorry Dan." He whispered "I didn't mean to be like that. I wasn't mad at you."
"That's what I get for tripping a U.S. marine." He joked, which actually made the other man smile, and they were left in a comfortable pause, which did not last. "You want to know what I think?" he asked cautiously, still not making eye contact.
"I'm sure you still will even if I told you I didn't." he quipped back. "But sure, what do you think?"
"When someone asks themselves 'what was I thinking?' It normally involves some sort of revelation." He explains "You realized something, something you're ashamed of… what was it?"
He thinks of what was being asked of him. He remembers what he was thinking at the first sight of Andrew and his foster family. "I wasn't thinking about Andrew." He answered, like it was a shameful and stupid oversight.
The younger man felt this was Mac's turn to talk about his sad life story, at least a portion of it. He knew it would take some time. He gave the other man some space and chose to lean back on the nearest street light. The brunette chose to hide in someway opting to lean back onto the brick wall across the other man, where the light only exposed his profile.
"I was so stupid." He said with spite. "I was so busy thinking of how all of this would change things for me and Claire. I was thinking of what I had to do and how much work I had to put into this so that he won't feel bad, so he wouldn't have a hard time getting along with Claire." He breaks his eye contact, searching for the words he tries to say, the looks back. "What I didn't consider was what he might want. I failed to question if Andrew would accept Claire and me at all. What would I be doing to him? Would I be reuniting him with his biological mother? Or would I only destroy the only family he's ever known." He explained. "I was so busy thinking about what this could do to me. I wasn't thinking of what this could do to him."
"That's not why you came here." The blue eyed young man tries to console him. "You didn't come all the way here to destroy this kids childhood."
"But I could have." He replied angrily, finally moving closer into the light, exposing his tear stained face. "I came this close-" He held his right hand up with his index and thumb fingers mere centimeters from each other. "-This close to ruining a 6 yr. Olds' life. You saw how happy they were. I could have ruined that"
"But you didn't" he cut him off. "You had good control and you didn't hurt anyone. Everything's fine." He repeated the older man's words back to him.
"He," he actually laughed a little. He smiled at how those words could easily lighten his mood. He's been putting himself under a lot of pressure. He's been stressing about this ever since he got the address. He was actually surprised that he found himself eating, when Danny took him to 'Carmine's'. He just realized how desperate he's been for a good laugh.
The blonde closed the space between them and reached to the other man's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. He smiles at him and said. "Mac, your reasons for coming were all well and good. You wanted to invite a son back into his real mother's life. It wasn't to do anything bad. You had good intentions and your heart is in the right place." He reminded him. "And before anything could've happen, before you might have hurt someone you stopped yourself. Nothing happened. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't ruin anybody's life. You didn't destroy his family."
"But-" he was about to disagree.
"No, not buts." He cut him off. "Stop beating yourself up for something you didn't do."
They were quiet again. The green eyed man only shrugged and nodded, slowly accepting what he was told as it began to sink in. He finally looks at the other man and was greeted with a soft and encouraging smirk, the type that said 'everything's alright.' And he believed it.
"Thanks Dan," he sincerely told him.
"No problem." He replied. "Lets get you home." Then with an arm around the other man's shoulder began to continue their walk to the subway station..