A/N - Ooooo... only two to go...

Israel – Chapter Nineteen

Danny sat in his chair staring numbly at the game being played on the TV. He couldn't get worked up about it and what did it matter anyway? One team would win and one team would lose, or there would be a draw but life would go on, the outcome barely affecting him, sat in his apartment in his chair. Danny blinked as someone scored but he didn't know who. He wasn't really watching. He wasn't really doing much of anything at all. Suddenly a loud cry came over the baby monitor and Danny slowly turned his head to stare at it. Lindsay had said she wouldn't be long in the store with Lucy. She was supposed to be home any minute. Danny stared at the monitor. The baby was crying even louder. It probably needed to be changed or fed. Danny stared at the monitor. The TV buzzed with cheering as someone else scored an ineffectual and meaningless goal. Danny stared at the monitor. The baby was crying. Danny tilted his head. The baby was crying.

Danny slowly turned his head back again to look straight forward and set his hands on his wheels. He rolled himself down the hallway and in through the door to the nursery. The baby was screaming its head off. Danny watched it from a distance at the door. It needed to be comforted but he just couldn't bring himself to go anywhere near it. It didn't belong in this life. It didn't deserve to be here. Flack had died...Flack was dead and instead a disgusting and suffocating thing hadreplaced him. Danny glowered at the baby...at his baby. He hated it. God, he hated it so much. If it wasn't here then Flack would still be alive.

"Shut up!" Danny suddenly shouted, hands curling into fists.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he screamed, rage pouring from him.

He wheeled slightly nearer, though still keeping his distance.

"You're not Don! You're not Don!" he yelled angrily.

The baby wailed on, the screaming getting louder and louder.

"You're not Don! You're not Don! You're not Don!" he cried, rage blinding any compassion he once had.

"You're not Don! You're n..."

Lindsay rushed past him and picked the baby up out of the cot. She cradled it to her chest and began soothing it with her voice. She turned and Danny could see her glaring daggers at him. She looked disgusted with him. Danny couldn't bring himself to care. He felt empty, emotionless, blank. He turned and wheeled himself away from the scene. He didn't belong in there, not with his beautiful wife and the baby. He heard Lucy playing in her room, content without him. They didn't need him...or want him. Nobody did.

"Danny? What was that?" Lindsay asked furiously as she emerged from the nursery.

"What was what?" Danny muttered, not looking at her.

Lindsay paced round his chair and held onto it so he couldn't go anywhere. She looked directly into his eyes.

"Why did you scream at Donny?"

"He's not!" spat Danny.

"He's not what, Danny?" Lindsay cried. "He's not Flack?"

"Of course he's not Flack!" Danny yelled.

Lindsay shook her head at him and straightened up. "Do you even hear yourself? Flack's dead, Danny, I'm sorry but he is and there's nothing anyone can do about it, not me, not Mac and not you. And his passing has nothing to do with Donny. He's just a tiny baby, Danny. What did he ever do to you?"

"He's alive!" Danny shouted at her.

Lindsay froze in disgust at his vehemence towards his son, hating his existence for being just that, existing.

"You wanted him, Danny. You wanted a son. You were so happy," she said, tears in her eyes. "I don't even recognise you anymore. Flack would be ashamed."

"Don't you tell me what he'd be, you weren't his best friend, you didn't know him like I did..."

"No, but I was still his friend. And I may not have been as close to him as you, but I sure as hell know he'd never want you to hurt an innocent baby, to despise it claiming to do so in his memory!"

Danny stared bitterly at her and then turned himself away.

"No you don't, I'm not finished," Lindsay shouted and walked round him, blocking his path. "I need to know, Danny. It's been over two months now and nothing's changed. So I need to know if this is how it is, from now on. Is this all we can expect from you? Is this all Lucy and Donny can expect from you?"

Danny stared at her again. "This is what I am, Linds. A bitter and resentful cripple. So get used to it," he snarled.

Lindsay nodded her head and brushed her tears away, breathing deeply to calm herself.

"Then I don't think I can do this anymore between us, Danny," she said as calmly as she could muster.

Danny didn't even feel shocked. He knew this had been coming, that he was unnecessary to her happiness.

"Fine," he replied.

"Fine?" Lindsay said in amazement. "Six years of marriage and that's all you have to say?"

"What do you expect me to say, that I want you to stay? That I'll change?"

Lindsay held a hand to her face as she tried to think, emotion clouding her judgement.

"Can you ever love Donny, that's all I need to know?" she asked slowly.

Danny thought for a moment, glancing in the direction of the nursery before replying.

"No."

Lindsay nodded. "Then I need to put my children first. I need to put their happiness and safety first. I'm gonna take them to stay with Adam for a bit," she said.

Danny smirked and laughed. "Adam...I should have known. He's just been hankering for a chance to get in with you ever since I've known him."

"Adam got engaged to Michelle, Danny," Lindsay said coldly. "And you would know that if you were a good friend."

Then she turned and walked off to Lucy's room, well aware of the quiet snivels coming from the young girl's room, her daughter having clearly heard their every word.

Mac walked with the tall man to his front door, opening it for him and letting him out into the corridor. Since his chat with Stella and then his imaginary chat with Don he'd started seeing his friends again. Jo had been round and so had Sid and Hawkes. Stella was now back in New Orleans but he knew she'd left her key with Jo so that he was unable to shut himself off from them all again. Two days ago Sam had come round asking if she might look through her brother's belongings and asked if Henry might come around again too. Of course he had let her, and though he knew it would be hard to see Henry again, due to his likeness to Don, he'd told her that of course his twin could come round too. Sam had informed him Henry had accepted the job in the Bronx and his wife and daughter would be flying out next week to join him and Mac was pleased for the young man.

"Thanks again for this, Mac," Henry smiled at him and Mac nodded as he stared at that wonky grin.

"That's fine, Henry. If you want to come by again please do so."

"I might, I only have a few things of Donny's, mainly from when we were kids but nothing recent," Henry said sadly.

"Don would want you to have those things," Mac nodded. "No-one else I know supports the Jets, Yankees or Rangers so he'd be pleased they're going to a good home."

Henry had taken a lot of Don's old sporting memorabilia as Mac wasn't really into that himself and it's not like he could have given it to Danny now. No, Henry was the perfect one to take those things.

"Oh hey, I got something for you," Henry smiled as he put down his box and fished about in his bag. "Here."

Mac looked down at the old VHS tape that Henry shoved into his hands before he picked up the box again.

"What is it?" Mac asked.

"Fast forward to about one hour and fourteen minutes and you'll see," Henry laughed waggling his eyebrows before leaving.

Mac sighed and shut the door before going back into the lounge.

"I see you're getting rid of my stuff."

Mac looked up and saw Don sat on the windowsill looking sadly at the boxes that contained his life.

"Not that it matters because I have you to remind me you're still here," Mac stated, taping a finger to his temple.

"You're not crazy, Mac," Don informed him. "Maybe this is just your way of dealing with my passing."

Mac arched one eyebrow in thought. "It's possible," he agreed. "Except I don't think talking to yourself or having visions of your dead lover are classed as dealing with things."

"Why not?" Don asked. "Are you not feeling better?"

"I'm feeling better because of Stella," Mac stated. "Because she made me realise I couldn't shut myself away. "And talking with Henry and Sal and Jo... all these people have helped."

"I'll go then," Don murmured.

"No!"

Don smiled at Mac and then glanced towards the door. "Was Hen here?"

Mac nodded in confirmation. "Why did you never tell me about him?"

Don tilted his head at Mac. "He hurt me."

"No more than I did after the explosion or with Peyton and you forgave me," Mac stated.

"You were easy to forgive," Don stated.

"Seems like I may have forced you into forgiving me," Mac murmured, thinking back to another time.

Mac stared up into the sky as it started to rain, 'a sign from God' he thought. God had been with them a lot today. He and Don had got on well on this case, Don had even made a genuine joke about the 'nutters on the ark' and he'd laughed at that, even if he disagreed. What was it he'd said to Don? Oh yes.

'Maybe their personal belief is so strong it overrides their better judgement. After all faith is the foundation of religion.'

Mac hadn't been talking entirely about religion when he'd said that and he wondered if Don had noticed. He'd followed his better judgement and ended up with Peyton whom he loved very much. She was just like Claire, except something was missing and he couldn't put his finger on what exactly that was. But then, he had personal belief too, and it continually vied with his better judgement for controlling his actions. His belief was that despite how in love with Peyton he was, she'd never be Don. Why was it that whenever he thought he was doing the right thing about the people he cared for, he never seemed to be happy. And he could never get that tall, dark-haired detective off his mind. Not for the last five years had he managed to get him off his mind.

Mac took a cab to Don's apartment for the second time in so many weeks and trudged up the stairs to the right floor. He was sopping wet and his clothes felt heavy on him. As he banged on the door he wondered if Don recognised his knock by now. If he had, then it clearly hadn't put him off as the door opened and Don stood there in a pair of dark jeans and a grey sweater. He looked handsome without his suit on.

"I think I'm gonna have to move..." Don muttered as he saw who it was.

"I'm a cop, Don," Mac stated as he pushed into the apartment...

Don sighed irritably and followed Mac into his lounge. "So why are you here this time?"

Mac rubbed his hands over his face. He had no idea how to tell Don that he wanted him again. That he'd made a mistake again. Why on earth would Don believe him this time?

"I'm leaving Peyton, Don. I don't love her."

Don just stared at him blankly. "So?"

"So you know why I'm telling you this."

Don shook his head a laughed in disbelief. "Oh right. So I'm supposed to believe you this time. Take your word for it. Let me guess, you've made a mistake and finally seen the error of your ways so you want to make it up to me?"

Mac pursed his lips. He'd known this would happen.

"I'm not gonna let you use me again, Mac. You've hurt me too many times before. I deserve better."

"How can I prove to you I mean it?"

Don smiled sadly. "I...I don't think you can."

"I'll do anything. Just say it."

"Mac..." Don murmured and stepped towards the older man. "I want so much to believe you..."

"Then do, Don. Just do. I promise."

A tear appeared in Don's eye and he looked down.

"I've never stopped loving you," Mac said quietly.

Don looked up. "I'm scared, Mac. I'm scared you'll hurt me again. I can't... I just can't..."

"Shhshh, yes you can. You can, Don. I love you."

Mac moved closer so they were almost touching. His hand was so close to Don.

"Mac..." Don murmured and he sounded so small, so scared. Mac had never heard him like that.

"I'm here, Don. I always will be."

Don leant down onto Mac and slowly both men turned their head, lips getting closer and closer until they touched. Unlike the last time they got back together which was wanton and needy, this time it was softer, more gently, as if love were controlling their actions rather than desperation.

"I love you, Mac," Don said softly.

"I know you do. I love you too. I'm going to earn back your trust, Don. If it's the last thing I do..."

Don kissed him again.

"I'm sorry, Don" Mac mumbled. "For everything I did to you back then. For the way I treated you. The way I used you. I wanted Peyton but I wanted you and I couldn't decide. In the end I think I hurt both of you. She always knew there was something. Never what it was...but she wasn't stupid."

Don watched Mac carefully. "You never forced me, Mac. You may have hurt me but you never forced me. Every time we got back together I wanted it to. I loved you."

"Even the last time?" Mac said, unconvinced.

"The last time?" Don frowned.

Mac stared at him. "If you're supposedly real then tell me this...is what Danny said to me true? Did I force you into our relationship? Did I leave you no choice but to fall in love with me that last time?"

Don stared back at him. "Do you really not remember... or is this selective memory?"

"You're the memory," Mac scoffed.

Don shook his head and then stood up. "Who was it who instigated us getting back together, Mac? When we finally became a proper couple?"

Mac frowned as he remembered that day...that night when he'd been given another chance by Don.

He'd had been pissed. He'd been so fucking angry when he'd got Don's message that Raymond Harris had turned up at the precinct. He was messing with him, playing with him. He'd obviously remembered Don from the diner and had specifically targeted him to go to with his crap about being attacked. That had angered Mac more than anything else, almost more than him destroying the lab. At least then he'd only been after him and Bill, despite others being hurt. But then he'd specifically picked Don out of all the cops in New York. Mac had warned Don after Harris had left to be careful. He couldn't have lived with himself had anything happened to the younger detective.

But it hadn't. Harris had been quite clear as to whom his intended targets had been and he'd got them. Bill now lay dead in the morgue...and Mac felt so angry, betrayed, sad, hurt... He also felt alone. Alone and unsure of himself. He'd looked up from Bill's dead body and seen Don there, the man he loved, the man he was...hell, he didn't know what he was doing with Don.

Mac stood from his couch and swayed as all the alcohol he'd consumed went to his head.

"Fuck!" he screamed and smashed his fist into the nearest wall. He screamed out in pain when it ached like a mother...

"Mac?" Don's voice shouted through the door as he banged on it. "Mac, are you okay?"

Mac stumbled to the door and flung it open without even greeting the younger man. He tripped back to his couch and fell down onto it. He heard the door close and then Don was standing over him.

"Mac, what happened?"

Don was kneeling at his side, examining his hand.

"Bill's dead..." Mac spat as he felt tears burn in his eyes.

"I know..." Don murmured as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a cloth.

"He fucking betrayed me, Don. He stole the money..."

Don glanced up at Mac worriedly as he wiped the blood from his hand.

"He wasn't a bad man, Mac," Don said.

"Harris blamed us. He knew Bill had killed Miranda..."

"Mac, it's not your fault."

"Don't fucking patronise me, Don," Mac snarled and pulled his hand away.

Don shook his head and disappeared again to get a bandage from Mac's bathroom. When he returned he knelt on the floor beside Mac and grabbed his hand again, starting to wrap it up.

"I wasn't patronising you, Mac. I know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you trust. Moran...Truby...believe me I understand."

Mac blinked and though his mind was fuzzy he realised that Don would indeed understand what he was going through more than anyone else.

"I'm sorry, Don," he muttered ashamedly.

"That's alright," Don smiled as he finished wrapping up Mac's knuckles. Mac looked down at his work and Don suddenly brought the hand up to his lips and placed a kiss over the bandage. Mac watched and then moved his hand to the back of Don's head and pulled him close, kissing him. It was the first time they'd kissed since the night they'd slept together after Andrew Bedford had been caught. Mac held on tightly to Don's head and pulled him nearer. He heard Don whimper as he pushed his tongue into his mouth.

"I fucking love you, Don, you know that right?" Mac murmured as he pulled back but still held Don close.

"I know," Don whispered back and then he kissed Mac. His arms wrapped around Mac's shoulders and pulled him tight to his body.

"God, I'm so glad you're here," Mac cried as they broke apart once more and Don's head dropped to rest on Mac's shoulder. Mac cradled him against his body, clinging desperately to him.

"I love you, Mac," Don whispered into his ear.

Mac turned his head and kissed whatever part of Don's face his lips could reach.

"Don't ever me leave again," Don cried softly.

"I won't. I promise. As long as you never leave me."

Don pulled his head up and stared Mac straight in the eye. "I want you tonight, Mac. I need you. And I know you need me too... I know you want me..."

Mac gulped and stared into the younger man's solemn, wide blue eyes. He'd waited so long to hear those words fall from Don's soft, pink lips. So fucking long. But his mind was swimming with alcohol tonight and he didn't want anything to happen that Don might regret. He loved him too much to do that to him again.

"Don..."

"I love you, Mac. I've been fighting with myself for so long to keep away from you...but I can't."

Mac stroked a hand down his cheek. "If you'd only known how long I've waited..."

Don pressed his lips into Mac's hand.

"But..." Mac murmured.

"No buts, Mac. Just fuck me," Don said sincerely. "Just fuck me."

"Come here," Mac murmured as he pulled Don in for another kiss, and this time he wouldn't let go.

"You..." Mac whispered, almost scared to voice the word in front of Don.

"Me," Don nodded. "Because I wanted to, because I'd never stopped loving you."

"But I made you wait...after that night...I made you..."

"You never made me do anything. I waited because I chose to...because I wanted to...because I loved you," Don said sincerely.

"But I wasted those four months...four months we could have..."

"Mac."

It was just one word whispered quietly but it stopped Mac in his tracks.

"You needed time to say goodbye to Claire. To gather yourself and I understood that. I still do."

"Why do I suddenly feel like I've become the pupil and you the teacher?" Mac asked.

"Maybe I was always cleverer than you gave me credit for," Don replied, smiling goofily just as Henry had done moments before.

"If you were so clever you'd have made up with your brother," Mac stated.

Don's smile disappeared and he nodded thoughtfully.

"You always were the cleverest, Mac," he murmured as he walked towards the door to the hallway. "And don't ever watch that," he added, nodding to the tape still in Mac's hand. Then he was gone.

Mac took a deep breath and sighed. He always felt saddened and alone when his vision of Don had gone. But at least he knew now he hadn't forced Don into anything. And that meant more than the world to him.

Lindsay had left four hours ago and Danny was now sat alone in the quiet lounge. The TV was off for once, he was so sick of the shows it had to offer and he felt numbed to her leaving. There was no patter of his daughter's footsteps, no crying of the baby, no warm feeling of Lindsay being close. He was alone now, and for the first time he thought of Mac. How Mac must be feeling being alone, having lost Flack. Maybe he'd been wrong to shout at Mac, the guy was probably feeling guilty enough without him adding to it...but then...he had killed Flack. Danny sighed, it would have been better if he'd died himself instead. Lindsay didn't need him anyway.

He rolled himself over to the counter and glanced at the pile of post she'd placed there this morning and had not had time to open. He pulled down the top letter and ripped it open, feeling slightly satisfied with the action. It was a letter for Lindsay about a job offer at Flack's YMCA. Danny skimmed through it, it basically said that there were no administrative positions available for her at that time and then listed the current vacancies they did have. Danny laughed, it wasn't like she needed a job there now anyway, she was going back to the lab and replacing him. He was just a useless piece of crap, unable to support his family, to work, to look after Lucy and Lindsay...he couldn't even love his own child. Suddenly something caught his eye and he frowned, reading the letter more closely. His heart jumped a little and suddenly he felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe he should call Lindsay. A loud knock on the door distracted him before he had a chance to. He wheeled himself over and opened it. Adam was there and he pushed past to get inside and then turned to face him.

"What the hell do you want?" Danny scowled.

"I want to try and knock some sense into you," Adam stated his face quite serious.

Danny sniggered at him. "Get out of here," he muttered and wheeled himself away from Adam.

"No!" Adam said bravely, still somewhat scared of the man he was facing.

"What?!" Danny snapped.

"I said no," Adam repeated. "I'm not going anywhere until you see what you're doing is wrong."

"Oh what I'm doing is wrong?" Danny muttered sarcastically. "I'm not the one shacking up with someone else's wife and kids," he spat.

Adam shook his head sadly at the man Danny was fast becoming. "I'm engaged to Michelle, Danny. Lindsay is like a sister to me and I don't want her to get hurt."

"Oh, come on," Danny said menacingly. "You expect me to believe that? I know you've always had a thing for my wife. You just couldn't wait for us to have a fight and then in you swoop like some sort of human vulture!"

Adam didn't rise to it, he knew he was better than that. "Believe what you want about me, Danny, but know that you're only hurting Lindsay and she doesn't deserve it."

"If she didn't want to hurt she should have stayed by my side!" Danny yelled.

"Why?" Adam shouted back, though in a much softer tone than Danny was using. "Why should she stay somewhere she isn't appreciated, and somewhere that makes her scared for her children's lives?"

Danny's jaw dropped open and he stuttered for a moment. "I would never hurt my kids," he ground out.

"Even Donny?" Adam retorted.

Danny looked away, unable to say anything. It was true, he hadn't made any effort with Donny, not that he would ever have hurt him.

"You weren't the only one who lost a friend, Danny," Adam said softly. "I miss Flack too...but if you blow your family than he will have died in vain. Mac chose you because you were the one with the family, the one who had others who needed you. If you throw that all away, then Flack's death was pointless."

Danny pursed his lips, knowing Adam was right.

"Lindsay doesn't want me anymore, Adam. I'm pathetic. She needs to move on from me, find someone who can support her and love the kids...both of them."

"Won't you give it a try at least?" Adam said sadly. "She's in tears right now back at my place being comforted by Michelle."

"She deserves better, she always had," Danny muttered and then wheeled himself over to the cabinet and took out a bottle of vodka. "Tell her she's made the right decision," Danny said over his shoulder as he poured himself a glass.

Adam stared at him and felt his heart break at the broken life of his friend.

Henry plodded his way through the damp grass to where he knew his family lay, he hadn't been there in years but knew he had to see his father, his mother and now his little brother, all of whom had been buried without his knowledge. He'd been to the cemetery as a small boy with Donny and they'd played under the trees whilst their father had whispered silently to a stone he now realised was the grave of his grandfather. He paused as the stones came into view, a whole long line of Flacks now. He knew Grams often paid her husband and son a visit here and that Sammie occasionally would come by to see their mother. How awful for them now, Sammie had been so close to Donny before his death and Grams had now buried a husband, a son and a grandson. Henry sighed and made his way over.

"Hey Gramps, Dad, Mum...Donny," He murmured as he knelt down, ignoring the damp that soaked into his trouser legs. "You remember me? It's Henry. I've come home..."

Henry sighed again and fiddled with his hands. This was hard.

"I'm sorry we argued Dad and Mum, I'm sorry I broke your hearts by leaving...I never meant to...I just needed to follow my path. I wanted to help people...and I did. I think you'd be proud. I helped a lot of people, a lot of people much worse off than anything I'd ever imagined."

Henry smiled and then his gaze drifted to the stone on the end of the row, the stone so new it was still spotlessly clean in comparison to the others. Henry stood and moved across to stand before it and then knelt down again.

"Hey Donny," he sniffed and felt tears spike in his eyes. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with his brother lying in the ground. He'd never imagined in a thousand years that this would happen.

"It's me...it's Hen. I've moved back Donny, I got a job in the Bronx and I'm staying in New York."

Henry paused as he felt the full force of his tears overwhelm him. His little brother was dead, little Donny, his twin, his partner, his identical.

"I'm so sorry I never came back before. I wanted to so much..." he stopped talking, unable to continue through his tears.

"So why didn't you?"

Henry looked up and saw Don standing just behind his gravestone. He didn't gasp in shock at the apparition or feel scared or stupid for seeing his dead brother. It never entered his mind that this was a memory or the result of an overactive imagination or even his mind playing tricks on him. He was a man of God and the spiritual world was something he devoutly believed in.

"Donny?" he murmured.

"I told you, it's Don now," Don stated.

"You'll always be Donny to me," Henry smiled.

"Why didn't you come back?" Don asked. "Or at least contact me...anything to let me know you were alive?"

"I don't know...I was angry. I was upset at not having any of you accept me for who I was. I loved being Africa, I loved my job and to have you all turn away from me hurt me, Donny," Henry murmured.

"I didn't want you to go," Don replied.

"I wouldn't have," Henry stated. "If you'd stuck up for me I would have taken a position somewhere in the city."

"I couldn't, Hen," Don muttered sadly. "I needed to stick by Mum and Dad. They were never the same after you left. Neither was I. We lost a part of us that day."

"Then you should have stood by me, Donny. I stood by you, I never once judged you for being gay, for sneaking Eric into your bedroom when you thought no-one knew."

"You knew about Eric?" Don asked, smiling shyly.

"Course I did. I knew everything about you. You were my other half, Donny."

"Did you feel as empty as I did when you left?" Don asked quietly.

"I felt like part of me had died. Like I'd lost myself. It took me a long time to get settled again," Henry replied.

"Me too," Don nodded.

"Why didn't you look for me?" Henry asked. "You were a cop..."

"I did," Don replied, shocking Henry. "I found you, Hen. I wrote a letter but..."

"But what?" Henry asked.

"I never sent it. I was a coward. I thought you hated me, and being unsure of that fact was better than knowing it to be true."

"I never hated you, Donny," Henry stated, getting up. "I thought you hated me."

"I was upset but I never hated you, I just felt lonely."

"I'm sorry, Donny," Henry said earnestly.

"I'm sorry too, Hen," Don replied.

"I wish..." Henry sighed. "I wish we could have made up before...before..."

Don smiled sympathetically. "Me too."

"I'm married now, Donny," Henry smiled. "I have a daughter too."

"I wish I could have married," Don murmured.

Henry stood up and came forward towards Don, only the gravestone separating the twins, like a border between two realms.

"I love you, Don," Henry said solemnly, tears falling down his cheeks.

"I love you too, Henry," Don replied. "And I'm proud of you. Just like I know Dad would have been too."

A/N – Flashbacks from 3x17 and 7x21