A/N - Big thanks to reviewers - you have made this story!
Israel – Chapter Twenty
Danny wheeled his chair to the edge of the abyss and looked over. It would be so easy. So easy just to fling himself over. He wouldn't even feel it. Half his body was dead anyway. He was useless, pathetic, not needed. A hindrance to all those around him. To his family. Lindsay would get over him. She had left him anyway, two weeks and he'd not spoken a word to her. She'd find another man, a better man. A man who would make her happy. The kids would need a Dad who could walk, one who could play ball in the park with them, who could take them for walks, who could carry them on his shoulders. He was nothing. Nothing more than a barrier to his family's happiness. It would be so easy. Just a quick push out of his chair...and then nothing. Like him. Nothing.
"Don't do it, Danno."
Danny looked up and gasped. Flack was sat on the edge of the building, staring out at the horizon, his long legs dangling over the edge of the building and down towards the street below.
"You're not real...you can't be," Danny choked.
Flack didn't look at him.
"It's not your time yet, Danno."
Danny smirked in hatred and bitterness. "It's not your decision, Flack."
"Do not seek death, Danno. For death will find you when your time has come. I know that better than anyone."
"Death is not the greatest of evils; it is worse to want to die, and not be able to," Danny replied.
"Lindsay needs you," Flack murmured, ignoring the jibe.
Danny laughed. "She doesn't need me anymore than I need a bicycle."
"You undervalue yourself. You always have."
Flack's hair waved in the wind and Danny watched it, mesmerised.
"I'm nothing now. Nobody needs this."
"Lindsay does. So does Lucy. So does Don."
"Don's dead!" Danny screamed, tears pricking his eyes.
Flack didn't even bother to turn and look at him.
"Your son needs you, Danno. Someone has to teach him right from wrong. That there is more to this world than bitterness and resentment. It's so easy to get caught up in all the hate and evil that exists in the world. You love Lindsay and she loves you more than you'll ever realise. Teach Don to love, to appreciate all the good there is."
Danny felt tears falling down his face. "How can I do that, Flack? You more than anyone should know there's no good in this place."
"You're good, Danno. You've spent your entire life doing good, helping others, destroying the evil that exists. Without people like you evil would triumph."
"I can't, Flack. You don't understand. You're not here anymore. I can't...I can't do this...she needs something more than me. She needs someone who can truly be a father to her kids."
"And who better to do that than their father?"
Danny shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "I don't want to be here..."
"You have to fight, Danno. You're giving up too easily. Sometimes even to live is an act of courage."
"You don't understand..."
"You're right...I don't understand. I died that day. Life ended for me and I didn't have to live on to deal with the consequences of what happened."
"Flack, I..." Danny said in regret.
"What would I have done if I'd survived, Danno? What if you'd been the one to die and I had lived?"
Danny blinked as more tears rolled down his face. "You're stronger than me, Flack. You always were."
"I would have lived my life to the fullest. I would have lived for the both of us. I wanted children, Danno. I wanted marriage and love. I wanted you're life, I always did."
"You did, Flack. You had Mac..."
Flack's head looked down at the street. "I wasn't allowed, Danno. I would have been happy with Mac. I loved him like no other. I've never looked forward to anything more than our wedding, our future together. I imagined us adopting a boy. I always wanted a son."
"Oh, Flack..." Danny cried, his heart breaking.
"I wasn't allowed though. It wasn't God's plan for me to have that. But you do, Danno. Don't throw that away."
"How am I supposed to look after them like this?" Danny admitted helplessly.
"By living," Flack replied. He turned his head and smiled at Danny, blue eyes twinkling... before he fell.
"Flack!" Danny screamed...
He jolted awake in his bed, sweat dripping down his head and arms trembling.
"Flack?" he whispered out into the dark and he pushed himself up and turned on the bedside light.
"Oh God," he cried as he looked round at the empty room, devoid of any other person, of his wife. "What have I done?"
He suddenly felt sick, he was losing Lindsay, he'd driven her away with his misery and bitterness. And yet...and yet he didn't want to lose her, not really. He loved her and he loved his daughter and Flack was right. He needed to try with his son, to love him for who he was, an individual and not a replacement for another life. He couldn't lose them, he realised that now. Flack was always right. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed swinging his legs over with his hands and then got into his chair. He needed to see her now before it was too late, before he lost her forever. He wheeled himself into the lounge and then paused. How the hell was he going to do this? He couldn't get out of his building let alone find his way over to Adam's by himself. He'd more than likely get mugged now that the sun was beginning its descent on the day and he was an easy target in his chair. Something caught his eye from outside and he wheeled himself over to window, pushing it open. Mr Woo was sat outside in his deckchair, staring up at the slowly darkening sky.
"Mr Woo!" Danny yelled waving his arms at him.
"Mister Danny, what the matter?" Mr Woo asked, looking over at the young man.
"I need your help, Mr Woo. I need to find my wife!"
"Ahh, spilt water is hard to retrieve," Mr Woo nodded.
"What?" Danny frowned, utterly confused. "Look, do you have a car? I need to get to my friend's apartment. It's an emergency."
"Yes, I have car," Mr Woo nodded. "You need drive find wife?"
"Err yeah," Danny agreed.
"Wait and I get you," Mr Woo smiled and then disappeared inside his house.
Danny hoped he hadn't been smoking too much pot that evening. He wheeled himself back towards the door and grabbed his keys before opening it and wheeling himself out into the hallway. He pulled it closed and then went over to the front door to the street. He got it open and went out onto the top step where he waited for Mr Woo. A minute later the elderly gentleman appeared, long robe flapping round his ankles and came up the steps.
"You need help, Mister Danny?"
"Yeah," Danny nodded, as if it wasn't obvious.
Mr Woo grinned and slowly helped him down the steps and then he turned and wheeled Danny round the corner to the most ridiculous looking car he'd ever seen. It was ancient and ramshackle, like it would be better suited to taking up permanent residence in a junkyard.
"Come on, Mister Danny, man who waits for roast duck to fly into mouth must wait very, very long time."
"What?" Danny gawped at him again but accepted Mr Woo's help to getting into the passenger seat and then Mr Woo folded up the chair and pushed it into the back before getting into the driver's seat.
"We go now," he grinned and then stepped on the accelerator. The car surged forward and Danny grabbed hold of the dash in front of him.
"You direct," Mr Woo stated as they drove at some speed through the streets.
Danny nodded and told Mr Woo where to go, the elderly man zooming up and down streets, not slowing for corners, the tyres screeching loudly, whizzing past the other cars, Danny holding on for dear life as he lost nearly twenty years off it all in the space of ten minutes.
"Slow down," he yelled at Mr Woo. "Where'd you learn to drive?"
"I not learn," Mr Woo exclaimed. "I not drive before."
Danny paled as he stared at Mr Woo. "Never?" he squeaked.
"Only once in tank."
Danny didn't even want to know what Mr Woo had been doing driving a tank and simply clung on as the car almost flew all the way to Adam's apartment block. Mr Woo pulled up to the curb and shut off the engine, helping Danny out into his chair and then wheeling him to the door. The buzzer for Adam's apartment was too high for him to reach so Mr Woo pressed it for him. No-one answered. Danny realised they were probably all having dinner at this time. Finally Adam's voice answered.
"Adam, it's Danny, let me in!" Danny shouted.
"Are you drunk?" Adam replied, he sounded irritated.
"No, but I just had an epiphany. Thank Flack. But I need to see Lindsay."
"Err...I think she's gone out..." Adam started to say and then there was a slight scuffle and murmuring before another voice came over the speaker.
"Danny?"
"Yeah, babe. It's me," Danny said excitedly.
"I'm kinda busy..."
"I don't care. I need to see you," Danny said hurriedly.
"Fine. Wait there I'll come down."
The intercom shut off and Danny wheeled himself a bit away from the door.
"I wait in car," Mr Woo stated and then turned back to the ramshackle vehicle. A moment later Lindsay appeared from the doorway.
"Danny, what are you doing here?" she sighed.
She looked tired and thin. She'd obviously been crying earlier and her eyes were still red. At once the excitement Danny had been feeling from his epiphany disappeared and he realised how deadly serious the situation was. It was make or break time.
"Linds," he said softly. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry."
Lindsay stared at him. "How do I even know you mean that?" she asked.
"I mean it, I do," Danny yelped. "Look..." he sighed as he tried to find the right words. "I know I've not been easy recently."
"That's one way to put it," Lindsay snarked.
Danny nodded, he deserved that. "Something happened tonight, Linds. Something that made me realise just how precious you are to me. Just how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I can't lose you, Linds, I just can't."
Lindsay sighed wearily and walked to the small wall outside the front of the building and sat on it, Danny wheeled himself over next to her.
"Danny...I'm not sure I can. The last few months...they've been so hard," she murmured with tears in her eyes. "I've felt like I've been stretched thin, recovering from giving birth, looking after Lucy, after Donny, after you and dealing with all the bills, attempting to get back to the lab so we have some money, organising someone to come and alter the apartment so things are easier for you..."
Danny felt a huge amount of guilt in his chest as he listened to her words. He'd been so wrapped up in his total self pity and obsession that it hadn't even occurred to him what she might have been going through.
"God I'm sorry Linds. I honestly had no idea...I know that's not an excuse and I don't mean it to be. I should have realised..."
"I understood, Danny. I knew it would be incredibly difficult for you to deal with being paralysed again and losing Flack at the same time. But I wasn't prepared for you to shut me out like you did and for you to blame our son."
Danny wiped his hands over his face as he felt himself start to cry. He hadn't cried in so long, like an unemotional block of wood but suddenly he felt he could.
"I love you, Linds. What can I do to stop me from losing you?" he asked quietly.
Lindsay looked at him. "Nothing."
Danny choked a sob and looked down at his hands.
"Nothing because you never lost me. I've hated these past two weeks, being without you. It was even worse than being with you and trying to deal with how you were. I don't ever want to split up from you again," she cried.
"Oh God," Danny sobbed in a high pitched tone. He gingerly stretched out an am and touched her cheek. "I love you, I love you...I'm so, so sorry."
Lindsay leant forward and held him against her, kissing his head.
"I just need you to promise you'll talk to me from now on," she murmured.
"Of course...anything..." he nodded.
He pulled his head away and stared into her eyes for a moment. Then he leant forward and gently kissed her.
"HHHHOOOONNNNKKKKK!"
They broke apart in shock and turned around. Mr Woo was pointing at them, laughing and waving from out of the car window.
"What the hell was that?"
They turned back to the building and saw Adam there with Donny in his arms, the baby was crying fiercely.
"Our neighbour," Danny muttered embarrassedly as Lindsay stood up. "He gave me a lift."
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't get him to stop, I think he wanted his Mummy," Adam said awkwardly.
"That's okay Adam," Lindsay smiled. "I'll take him."
"No!"
They both turned to look at Danny who wheeled himself nearer.
"I'll take him."
Lindsay smiled and then nodded to Adam who passed Donny to Danny.
"Hey little guy," Danny said softly as he held the baby in his arms. He began cradling it and softly rocking it back and forth.
"I'm your Daddy," he smiled and the baby blinked his bright blue eyes up at him. Slowly, it started to stop crying.
"How did you do that?" Adam muttered.
"Father's touch," Lindsay smiled happily.
Danny grinned at them and then looked back down at his son. He felt a warmth spread through him and suddenly he laughed, not loudly for fear of disturbing the baby but happily.
"I love him, Linds," Danny said as he looked up at her, tears of joy in his eyes. "I can feel I love him."
Lindsay placed a hand on his shoulder and cried happily. "Let's go home, Danny. I want to go home."
"Sure thing, though I suggest we call a cab," Danny laughed, looking back at Mr Woo who had started smoking his pipe in the car.
Just then Michelle appeared from the building holding Lucy's hand. "We were wondering where everyone had got to?" she smiled.
"Daddy!" Lucy squealed in excitement as she ran over to Danny.
"Hey, Lucylumpy," Danny grinned as he put an arm round her and she hugged into his side.
"I missed you, Daddy," she said quietly. "And I not a lumpy. Donny looks more like a lumpy than me."
All four adults laughed at her words, knowing that what she meant was kind of true. Lindsay smiled down at her husband, their two children wrapped tightly within his arms and felt happier than she had done in months.
Danny grinned up at his wife and then kissed the top of his daughter's head before looking back down at his son.
"I love you, Donny," he whispered.
Mac watched as the digital numbers flickered before his eyes and yawned. It was exactly three months to the day since Don had been murdered. If he was honest he'd felt like holing up in his apartment and never leaving it ever again but instead he'd decided to be brave. He'd gone back to work instead, his first proper day back. Three months was enough time to mourn, he'd told Sinclair, leaving out the bit where he still had visions of his dead lover. They were, however, getting less and less and Mac supposed it was because he was on the mend. Stella had made him see sense that he couldn't recover by himself and he needed the support of his friends around him. Sal had made him see that if others could move on, despite suffering things even worse than he had, then he could move on too. Henry had been supportive too, he'd felt almost the same, guilty for hurting Don while at the same time a huge sense of loss at losing a part of himself. He and Mac had spent some time together, sharing their memories of Don and over that time Mac had come to realise how very different the two Flack twins actually were. They may have looked the same, sounded the same and walked the same but they were almost complete opposites in some ways and Mac found knowing that made it easier for him to be around Henry. Finally, the image of Don that he'd been seeing, while it may not have been real, had still helped him to get over the guilt he felt at Don's death and be assured that their relationship hadn't been a lie.
Mac blinked and paused the tape. One hour and fourteen minutes, that was what Henry had said. Mac went back to the sofa and pressed play. Immediately a view of a school auditorium came up where a group of small girls in tutus were dancing about on the stage. Mac frowned and forwarded the tape through their dance until they went off. The camera zoomed in on a piano that was rolled onto the stage and then suddenly a boy Mac had no trouble in recognising came on and sat down behind it. Don. He was so tall and gangly, Mac laughed, and his hair was huge and fluffy. Don started to play a tune and Mac smiled as he watched. 'Claude Debussy; Arabesque I' if he was not mistaken. It was once again beautiful...so Don had always been talented in this way. Mac felt pleased he could share memories of Don's later life with Henry and that in return Henry was able to give him moments like this, moments of the Don he never really knew.
"I told you not to watch that."
Mac smiled and turned to the young man beside him.
"I thought you'd gone," Mac replied.
Don shrugged. "I'm only here when you want me to be."
"I guess I was missing you," Mac mused, watching the young Don on the screen.
"My hair was so bad back then," Don smiled.
"It was bad when I first met you," Mac laughed.
"I like to think I had some style," Don replied.
Mac laughed again. It felt good to do so. "Were you always that good at playing the piano?"
"Maybe," Don said shyly.
"You know what I think?" Mac said sternly. "I think that whole Nutcracker story you told me was made up. I think really you actually liked Classical music, all of it but you just were too embarrassed to tell me."
"Guess you'll never really know," Don replied quizzically.
The tune ended and Don stood and bowed to the clapping audience before walking off stage and Mac turned off the tape.
"I'll be watching that again later on," he teased.
"You seem happier," Don replied, turning to look at him.
"I am," Mac nodded. "Talking with my friends helped...and talking with you."
"I'm glad I could help."
"I think you were right," Mac frowned. "My mind was trying to help me but didn't know how. Conjuring you up was its way of making me face my own fears...my own guilt...and making me deal with it."
Don blinked and smiled softly at Mac. "Guess you won't be seeing me around again then."
Mac sighed and moved his hand closer to Don but just out of reach.
"Part of me never wants you to go. But I know that to live in a world of imagination is to not really live at all. I need to get back to reality. I went back to work today."
"How was it?" Don asked.
"The usual," Mac nodded. "A basketball player had been killed."
Don frowned in thought. "Like the Chopper Tevis case," he replied. "Do you remember it?"
"Of course I remember that case," Mac said softly. "How could I forget?"
"I never forgot either," Don said solemnly.
Mac knew of course what he meant. The case seven years ago where Chopper Tevis had been found dead on a basketball court had been the first time Mac had ever told Don he loved him. Yet it had been difficult, Don had hated him so much during that case, but Mac had persevered, never wanting to lose the man he truly loved.
As Mac left Kendra Tevis' apartment with Don the woman's words echoed round his head.
"He wanted to get back together, another chance but I said 'hell, no!' I'd already let him go."
Mac watched as Don strode away from him down the corridor to the stairs. Normally they'd be walking side by side, discussing the case but ever since Don had returned to work the young man had pretty much ignored him unless he had to speak to him about a case. Even then he was cold and blank unless one of the others was with them, then it was almost as if he was trying a little too hard, every word out of his mouth a witty comment or sarcastic remark.
Mac had thought he could handle it, working with Don again, seeing him again every day. He realised now he'd been naive to think that. He'd been on the verge of falling in love with the young detective and it was only now that Mac realised how far past that point he actually was. He still loved Don very much, deep within his heart, despite his relationship with Peyton. It had been easy at first. Don was away, still recovering and Mac hadn't had to see him. Don's absence had done wonders for Mac to get over him and he'd found himself a sensible partner and moved on. Everything had been going so well. Then Don returned and little by little, Mac's defences had broken down. Each glance, each spoken word, each brush...every time he saw him, every time he smelt him, every time he longed to taste him again. It was killing Mac.
"He wanted to get back together, another chance but I said 'hell, no!' I'd already let him go."
Kendra's words stabbed him like a knife. What if it was too late for him as well? He cared very much for Peyton, she was clever, beautiful, funny...but she wasn't Don. But what exactly did Don think now? Would he even want him back? Had he moved on too? Let him go?
"Don?" Mac called.
The tall detective paused and gave a visible sigh. He turned and stared coldly at Mac.
"What?" he snapped.
"I...err...I was wondering how you were?" Mac asked. It was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever said.
Don stared at him even more coldly, if that was possible. His look said it all.
"I..." Mac started.
Don was giving off no tell-tale signs. A blank canvas.
"I...um," Mac really had no idea what to say.
Something snapped.
"What? What do you want, Mac? Cos it's clearly not me!" Don snarled.
"Look, I hate this awkwardness between us."
"Not my problem," Don snapped.
"Don, please. I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry for what I did...I never should have..."
"Can't change the past Mac. So just deal with it. I have."
"Despite what you think, I did it for you, Don. It felt like I was taking advantage of someone who was young and too inexperienced to know what he wanted. You would have lost your job, your family, possibly friends too. You're entire life would have been gone, everything you ever hoped for..."
"Stop it!" grinded Don, his lower lip trembling. "Just stop it. You may think you have your reasons for what you did, excuses...and I hope they convince you that you did the right thing, I really do. But you forgot about the one thing that should have been the biggest part of your decision...me. Everything you're saying is about me and yet you never asked...never...I..."
Don took a deep breath to calm himself.
"I know about Peyton, Mac."
Mac stared at him in dread. He'd missed his chance. Don was slowly disappearing from his grasp. Don stared at him for a moment more, hoping for a response of any kind but Mac continued to stare dumbly at him. Don shook his head in disgust and left. Mac watched him go.
Mac shook his head as he remembered that look in Don's eyes, that look of utter hurt and betrayal and he had been the one to cause it. It had taken every ounce of his strength back then to go and see Don later on to try and win him round.
Mac took a deep breath and then banged on the door before he chickened out and ran from the place. He waited for roughly two minutes before banging again. Maybe no-one was in? Just as he was considering leaving he heard the lock slide back and then the door was opened. A sleepy looking, tousle-haired Don was standing there in just a black vest and boxers. Mac suddenly realised that it must be very late, or early, depending on how you looked at it. He'd stayed late at the lab with Stella putting away the evidence and talking over the case. She'd mentioned that Don had taken rather a beating when he'd chased a suspect and Mac had been worried. He'd gone home and poured himself a strong drink, mulling over the day's events. He had an incredible urge to go and see Don to check he was okay. Peyton had called twice but Mac had let the machine pick up. He couldn't face talking to her today. After another drink for Dutch courage he'd put his coat back on and taken a cab to Don's apartment. And here he was.
Don's eyes widened when he saw Mac standing at his door.
"Mac? What the hell? It's 1am!" Don said sleepily. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
"I need to come in," Mac stated and then pushed past Don without waiting for an answer.
He heard the door close behind him and then turned back to the detective who was looking much more awake now. Mac noticed the two large bruises on his cheek and forehead, the result of the beating Stella had mentioned.
"Why are you here, Mac?" Don asked. He didn't sound angry. Maybe he was still half asleep. Or maybe he was just tired of going over this again.
"We need to talk."
"I have nothing else to say to you."
"Fine. Then I'll talk. You listen."
Don pursed his lips and looked reluctant. He glanced back at the front door and then sighed.
"Whatever."
He padded to his kitchen and turned on the cold tap. Then he took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with the cool liquid. He didn't offer Mac anything. He turned off the tap and then leant against the side without turning around to look at Mac.
"Thought you were talking?" Don muttered as sipped his drink.
"Chopper made a mistake, Don," Mac stated. "He made a mistake and it changed his life forever. He was trying to put it right, trying to do right by those he loved, even if they didn't want him back. It's a tragedy that his life was taken before he could fix things. He was a good man, Don. He just made a mistake, one that he regretted till the day he died."
Mac saw Don's back tense and wondered what the younger man was thinking. He wished he'd turn around.
"People make mistakes all the time, it's what makes us human. And they have to live with them, deal with the consequences for the rest of their lives."
Don placed his glass on the surface and it made a loud noise.
"I made a mistake, Don. And it's one I'll live with for the rest of my life. One I'll always regret."
A shudder ran down Don's back and Mac stepped closer.
"Knowing that I might have lost you is one of the most painful things I've ever experienced, Don."
Mac took another step closer to Don.
"I know I have a lot to make up for. A lot I need to put right with you."
Mac took one more step and then he was standing directly behind Don.
"I love you, Don..."
Mac heard Don whimper and he gently leant forward until he was touching Don's back.
"Can you ever forgive me?"
He felt another shudder run down Don's spine and he gently stroked the fingertips of his right hand over Don's hipbone. He leant his head closer and softly nuzzled into the back of Don's neck. He could hear the younger man gasping for breath, choking on the suffocating atmosphere between them.
"Please...Please forgive me, Don. I love you so much..."
Don released a cry and leant back into Mac, needing the support, needing Mac.
"I got you," Mac murmured and wound his arms around Don's waist, holding him close, tight.
"Mac..." Don said quietly.
"I'm never letting go, Don," Mac said softly.
Don slowly turned and Mac cried out when he saw the detective's face was stained with tears. He reached up and wiped them off his cheeks.
"I'll never hurt you again, I promise."
Don stared at him with wide eyes and then he suddenly kissed Mac. It was desperate, wanton and Mac quickly responded, returning the kiss with just as much need as the younger man.
Neither of them spoke again that night. They hadn't even made it to the bedroom before Mac was removing Don's vest while the younger man pulled off his coat and jacket. The sex had been just as needy and desperate as the kiss, as though both men had been denying their craving for each other for so long it had become unbearable. The next morning Mac had promised Don he'd leave Peyton, as soon as it was suitable, he'd tell her it was over and then he and Don could truly be a couple once again.
"I treated you so badly back then," Mac said in disgrace.
Don nodded a little sadly. "I know we had our ups and downs, that you broke my heart, then mended it, then broke it again and then mended it so firm that it was stronger than ever, stronger than before. I don't regret one minute of our time together, Mac," he said
"Nothing?" Mac murmured.
"You loved me Mac, despite hurting me, you always loved me. And because of that I always knew we'd be together," Don smiled. "In the end."
"But it's not the end," Mac replied.
"It is for me," Don whispered as he stood up.
"I won't see you again, will I?" Mac asked as he looked up at him.
"If you look hard enough," Don smiled. He walked to the door of the lounge and paused. "Mac?"
"Yes?" Mac replied.
"You should make up with Danny. Go and see him. He still loves you and he needs you now more than ever."
Mac watched as Don walked through the doorway and then he sighed. He knew he should go and see Danny; it was the one last thing that he had to do on his path to recovery. Mac stretched out his back and then stood and walked to the hallway to grab his coat.
Danny was sitting in his chair watching TV with his wife. They'd arrived home about an hour ago and the two kids had been so sleepy that they'd put them straight to bed. Danny couldn't stop grinning, as though he had only just cottoned onto the idea that he had a son. Lindsay couldn't stop grinning because Danny couldn't.
"I'm glad you're here" Danny smiled at her.
"I'm glad you are," she said softly and they both knew what she meant.
"I can't believe I was so stupid," Danny said in disbelief.
"What was it that made you realise?" Lindsay asked in interest.
Danny smiled at her quite shyly. "It was Flack."
"What?" Lindsay frowned.
"Flack," Danny repeated. "I dreamt of him. He told me that my family needed me...that you still loved me...that I needed to live for you."
Lindsay moved to the edge of the couch and touched his hand.
"Sounds dumb, doesn't it?" Danny shrugged.
"No, no it doesn't," Lindsay replied. "It sounds like he's still got your back, even from beyond the grave."
"You think it was really him?" Danny asked.
Lindsay smiled in thought. "I think whatever it was, it was what you needed to hear, and who better to tell you the flat out truth than Flack?"
Danny exhaled in amusement. "Yeah, he was always good at that...no tact..."
"I love you, Danny," Lindsay said sincerely and then leant forward and kissed him. As they broke apart a beautiful tune was playing from the TV...Fred Astaire.
Heaven, I'm in heaven...
"Dance with me," Lindsay asked as she stood and held a hand out.
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak...
"Linds..." Danny muttered helplessly. "I can't..."
And I seem to find the happiness I seek...
"Yes you can," she laughed as she grabbed hold of his chair and spun him round as she danced beside him.
When were out together dancing cheek to cheek.
Danny laughed loudly and held his hands onto his wife's waist.
From across the alley Mr Woo watched them from his window and smiled to himself; better to light a candle than to curse the darkness, he thought.
The dancing couple were interrupted by a knock to their door and Lindsay went over to answer it, still laughing.
"Mac," she said in shock as she opened it.
Mac was stood at their door, a cardboard box in his hands. He coughed and cleared his throat.
"I was wondering if I might speak to Danny?" he asked severely.
"Mac," Danny said as he wheeled himself to the door and Lindsay stepped back. "Yeah, come on in."
Mac nodded and walked in while Danny pushed the door shut.
"I brought you some of Don's things I thought you might want," Mac said quietly.
"Thanks, Mac," Lindsay smiled. "Let me take them from you."
She took the box and then looked between the two men. "I'll just go and check on Donny. You guys talk in the lounge."
Mac smiled at her in thanks and walked to the couch to sit down. Danny followed him over and stopped nearby.
"Danny..." Mac started.
"No, Mac. I think I should go first," Danny interrupted.
Mac looked surprised but let the younger man continue.
"I've been such a jerk these past few months, not just to you, but to everyone. I was so bitter about being back in this chair...and losing Flack...losing Don was hard," he sniffed.
"It was," Mac agreed quietly.
"You know, I miss him so much," Danny said, trying hard not to cry as he thought of his lost friend.
"I know," Mac nodded.
"But it's no excuse. Flack was such a hero, such a good guy and..." Danny sighed tiredly. "And he would have been ashamed to call me a friend the way I've been acting... the way I treated you."
"I understood your pain, Danny. I didn't blame you for shouting at me."
"No, Mac. That was wrong. It wasn't your fault any of this happened and I hope you know that."
"I do," Mac nodded. "It took me a very long time to accept it, but I finally know that."
"Good," Danny smiled. He took in a breath and looked round his lounge, thinking of all the times Flack had been there with them.
"You think he's in a good place?" he asked quietly.
"Without a doubt," Mac murmured. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Danny."
Danny looked back at Mac. "But I'm okay now, Mac. And I have a wonderful wife and daughter and son. And hopefully I still have you?"
Mac smiled at the man he thought of as a son. "Of course you do."
"I love you, Mac," Danny murmured.
"I love you too, Danny," Mac replied.
"You want to meet my son?" Danny asked.
Mac smiled. "I'd love to."
The two men went into the bedroom and saw Lindsay leaning into the cot where Donny lay.
"Oh, Mac..." she said embarrassedly. "I'm so sorry. I was just looking through the box you brought and he grabbed it off me. He won't let it go."
Mac and Danny exchanged a frown and then they both went over and looked into the cot. Donny was lying there, Don's flat cap in his hands, chewing on one side of it happily.
"It's okay, Lindsay," Mac smiled.
"He really is a little Don," Danny laughed.
"Sure is," Mac agreed. "No one else ever liked that hat."
All three of them laughed and baby Don giggled in his pram.
"He's never giggled before," Lindsay told them.
"Don had that affect on people," Mac stated.
Silently, the other two agreed with his words.
A/N – Both flashbacks from 3x05.
Thanks to Dag Hammarskjold, Sophocles and Seneca for three quotations used in this chapter.