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After she practically threw Cassidy in the car, she went back up to get Danny. Jackie couldn't remember if she had ever seen her partner cry. He seemed so... unbreakable. She took out her phone and stared at it, wondering if she should call the one person who could make Danny feel better.
Jackie decided she would call, and she ended that call just as the elevator came to the tenth floor. Cautiously, she walked back to where her partner had been. He was still there, staring out the window, breath heavy and shaky.
She cleared her throat, "I got Cassidy in the car."
Danny took a deep breath and blew it out hard, nodding. "Okay. Okay." He sniffed and turned around, not looking at her. "Let's lock up that animal."
It was painfully quiet on the elevator; when they got to the third floor, Jackie started her... what was it? A pep talk? "I don't think less of you for... you know. Back there."
"Jackie..."
"I just thought you should know."
He rubbed his heart again, like he had been doing the entire case. Barely audibly, he whispered, "thanks."
"Are you okay? What's with your heart?" She motioned to his hand.
The elevator dinged, signaling they had arrived. The doors opened, and Danny walked out. He paused before getting in the car, Jackie waiting for what he'd do. "It's a tattoo. Semper Fi. It...." He sighed, watched his breath freeze in the cold January air. "I don't know. It's like my wife playing with her rings. Nervous habit? Calms me down? I don't know. It's just something I do."
And he truly didn't know why. Maybe it was to remind him to always be faithful. Maybe it was a message to his fallen brothers that he'd always remember them. No matter what.
*********
When Danny saw Linda at his desk, he looked to Jackie. She only shrugged, "I thought you might need her. Go home with your wife. I'll process all this."
"No, I—"
"Go. I'll deal with it. Gormley too."
He relented, "thanks, Jack. I owe you one."
"Put it on my tab," she joked with a smile. Then she patted Danny's shoulder, "good work, partner."
"You too."
She gave him one more smile before slinking off somewhere, away from Danny and Linda.
Danny walked up to his wife, "hey."
Linda looked up and immediately stood, throwing her arms around him. "I was so worried when Jackie called." It sounded like she had been crying.
"I'm okay."
"Are you though?" Linda pulled back to look at him. He was still bloody from the fist fight.
"Let's go home."
She nodded, took his hand, and steered him out of the crowded precinct and into her car. She put the radio on the easy listening station, hoping that might calm Danny's nerves.
It didn't.
*********
It was quiet, dreadfully quiet, as Linda cleaned Danny's cuts. She wiped his knuckles, tossed the warm, wet towel down. "How do they feel?"
"Sore."
"Anything broken?" She pressed on his knuckles; hard enough for him to feel it, but gently at the same time. It amazed him how she could do that.
"No." He had only said monosyllabic words to her.
She nodded, then brought his hand up to her lips. Silently, she kissed every red knuckle, never breaking eye contact with him. She dropped his hand, but he held on. Okay, she thought, giving him a small smile. She could clean the cuts on his face with one hand; they didn't look to deep.
Finally, while she was wiping the blood from under his nose, he asked a question that had more than one syllable. "Are you mad at me?"
Linda studied his face; he looked like he was ashamed of something. "You alive and breathing?"
"Last I checked." He had almost said barely, but he bit that back.
"Then I'm not mad. I'm worried, but I'm not mad."
"I'm okay," Danny reassured her.
Linda knew that was the biggest lie of his life. But she didn't say anything. She only cleaned the cut beneath his eye. "These are all superficial. You don't need stitches."
He grabbed her hand with his free hand, turned it over, and brought it to his lips. He pressed his lips against her wrist in such a way that he could smell her perfume there. "I'm gonna go to his funeral."
"Okay. Do you want me there?"
Yes, he desperately did, but for some stupid reason, he said no. "You don't have to come."
She debated on arguing, but ultimately decided against it. "Let's take a bath. Okay?"
He sniffed, "okay."
********
It wasn't until after the bath that Danny let it all out. He told Linda all about Micheal, all about Cassidy. He told her how all of it made him feel.
"I don't really know what I would've done if I hadn't... collapsed like that."
"You think you would've killed him?" Linda asked after a moment. She held her breath, hoping the answer wasn't yes.
Danny was quiet for a long moment before whispering, "I don't know."
And that scared her. That scared the shit out of her. She didn't know what to say to that, because what she wanted to say would make him bristle and shut down completely. What she wanted to say was:
"You need to see a psychologist, Danny. I don't care what you say. Not knowing if you'd actually kill a man.... You need to go, for your own safety."
Instead of telling him— which was what she really should have done— she started to cry.
“You’re crying,” Danny stated the obvious. “Why?”
“I’m sad for you,” she sniffed. “Sad that… that you had to go through that.”
He was too. A lot of times he wished he hadn’t enlisted, but other times he was so glad he did. He couldn’t tell her that though, so he told her a different truth instead. “I have you, and Jack, and Sean. And you three are all I need. Truthfully.”
“Are you sure?”
“Would I lie to you about something like this?”
Linda wiggled out of Danny’s arms and sat on her knees so he could see her face. “I love you.”
He put his hand on her cheek, “I love you most.” He pulled her back down to his chest, inhaling her shampoo and perfume. He really hadn’t been lying. If he was with his family, and they were alive and well, then he would be just fine. He’d be the happiest man in the world.