A/N: somehow managed to delete this becuase i'm a putz. just a re-post.

Danny was studying Flack thoroughly, trying to engrave each tiny little detail into his mind’s eye. He wanted to be able to remember him like this later tonight, peacefully asleep and breathing steadily. But he knew that when he got home and finally closed his eyes to sleep himself, his buzzing brain would mix things up. He’d jumble the positions of lacerations between Aiden, Louie and Flack. He’d put the bruises on Louie’s knuckles on Flack’s clean hands, he’d accentuate the smell of singed hair. He’d forget that he hadn’t yet seen Flack awake since yesterday morning, that he hadn’t seen if his eyebrows still went up crookedly when he was trying not to laugh, even with the bandages and gauze wrapped around his skull and covering one side of his forehead. Everything was getting jumbled in Danny’s head already.

In actuality, Flack didn’t look so bad, considering. He had that bandage on his head, for a six inch gash that ran along the side of his head towards his right temple. Danny hadn’t even wanted to hear how many stitches that took to close up. It was going to be a bitching scar. He wondered idly if Flack would find it embarrassing and grow his hair back out or leave it and pretend to try and pick up chicks with it. His chest and right shoulder were thickly wrapped in gauze too. His left leg was propped up on cushions and encased in plaster up to his knee. His left hand and forearm too. There were three tubes running out of him; two in his left hand poking under from under the edge of the cast for antibiotics and pain killers, and one in the crook of his left elbow for blood transfusion. He was covered in hundreds of little slices and scrapes from flying glass and debris. The man was damn lucky there was no damage to his eyes.

In fact, according to the doctors, Flack was pretty damn lucky in general. Danny had heard the doctor’s evaluation from Stella. Apparently the head wound was a fucker to take care of because of the blood loss and serious concussion. And Flack had suffered some fairly serious burns and internal bleeding. Broke his leg in two places, his wrist in four…He was banged up pretty good. Kinda expected though, when you get blown up and all. But he was still one of the lucky ones.

Danny shifted uncomfortably in the stiff hospital chair and let out a shaky sigh. He spent way too much time here. At least Flack’s hospital room faced a different direction than Louie’s, he thought to himself miserably. Hurrah for variety.

He really should have gone straight home from work. Mac had told him that he was under no circumstance to return to work for at least a whole week. Something about stress recovery and grievance leave. Stella had been given the same orders. Mac, Hawkes and Monroe would handle things with help from Adam, Jane and any volunteers from the swing and nightshifts. Normally Danny would have argued and bitched till he was blue in the face and Mac was red, but considering the past month…His brother had been beaten within an inch of his life and was now in a coma three floors up. His co-worker and mentor had gotten the shit smacked out of by her boyfriend then killed said boyfriend in self-defense. His best friend and ex-partner had been raped and murdered, left to burn in her own car. And his lover and other best friend had been caught in an explosion yesterday. Taking a couple days to just chill sounded okay.

Danny sighed again and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bed and taking hold of Flack’s good hand. He decided he really hoped Flack didn’t scar at all. A couple of Danny’s own didn’t receive touch as well as unmarked skin. He didn’t want Flack to know what it was like not to be able to feel. Thankfully the doctor thought he’d be fine, except for the head wound and maybe a slight limp for a while.

He thought briefly of trying to talk to Flack despite his unconsciousness, but pushed the idea away. It was too much like talking to Louie, who’d never wake up again and talk back.

Instead he just rubbed his knuckles into his sore eye, held Flack’s hand and stretched his back every now and then. Sitting next to the one person left who loved him the same way Danny loved them, but not able to do anything but wait…man, it was lonely. Danny wished so badly that Aiden was sitting in the empty chair on Flack’s other side, distracting him with crude jokes, basketball trash talk and subtle comfort.

Tears burned suddenly in his eyes and he found he was too weary to try and hold them back. They fell quick and hot, but he didn’t sob or moan. Just pressed his face against Flack’s side and pushed past the stink of hospital and surgery to the wonderfully familiar smell of Don’s soap and coffee and cleanness.

When the tears had slowed, Danny lifted his head to look at Flack’s face again. He almost jumped out of his skin when he found a pair of clear, if sleepy, blue eyes staring back at him.

“Donnie?”

“You got me wet,” Flack rasped out, giving Danny’s hand a weak squeeze.

Danny let out a disbelieving laugh. It sounded more like a sob to his ears.

“Fuck you, man. You’re the asshole wearin’ a gown.”

Flack closed his eyes and smiled. But then the smile faded and he looked at Danny with a sad, serious expression on his face.

“How ya holdin’ up?”

Danny almost started crying again. Every time something went bad, Flack would ask that question in the exact same way. In a low, gentle voice that was full of concern but unwilling to accept a bullshit answer. Just those words could make Danny feel better. Safer. Like Flack had his back.

“I dunno. Whaddabout you? You got blown up.”

“I gotta headache, my ears are ringing still,” Flack admitted. From his tone, Danny could tell that wasn’t the only thing bothering him.

“I meant emotionally,” Danny told him.

“…I’ll show you mine, you show me yours.”

“Dammit. Talk ‘bout your all-time backfires,” he muttered, regretting pushing it. He should have known Flack wouldn’t let him get away with his usual ‘I’m fine, don’t worry about me’ devil may care bullshit. “I dunno how I feel. Honest. I don’t-I dunno…it’s too much. I’m just…overwhelmed right now. And so I’m kinda…numb. Or somethin’.”

Flack grimaced and nodded slightly. His eyes were overly bright, whether from the pain, drugs or something else wasn’t clear. “Me too. It’s…too much.”

Danny let out a shaky laugh. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. The next shoe to drop. It’s…one thing after another and I-I dunno how long I can keep up with it, Don.”

Staring at him wide-eyed and suspicious, Flack asked slowly, “What d’you mean, Messer?”

“Huh?” Danny looked bewildered, then started and shook his head. “No, no. I just…I’m just tired is all. I need a break. Some sleep.” His voice broke with these last words and he looked away, ashamed. Yeah, some really terrible things had happened in the past month, but at least he could still walk. At least he wasn’t laid up in some hospital bed covered in bruises and gauze with no less than three tubes running out of him…At least he wasn’t Aiden. He was alive, wasn’t he?

“I hate this fuckin’ shit,” Flack said suddenly, sounding harsh and strong despite his bodily weakness.

Danny lifted his head and stared at him. Usually when Flack got upset or angry he remained tightly in control. He might swear a blue streak or yell to raise to dead or take a swing or two, but he always seemed in control of even his highest emotions and reactions. But right now…Well, Danny had never seen such an ugly, twisted and vicious look on his friend’s face. He actually dropped Flack’s hand and leaned back from him.

“Don, what’re y-”

“This is bullshit! Stella’s the strongest woman I know and she gets her ass kicked by her fuckin’ boyfriend? Aiden gets fuckin’ raped and murdered and let to burn in her own car! And you-” Flack turned his glare on Danny, who recoiled from the look apprehensively, “And you’re goin’ off the friggin’ deep end! You’re brother gets hurt and suddenly you’re back to your touchy, belligerent self, like you were when we first met or last year with Minhas. What’sa matter with you, huhn?”

Danny stared at Flack in shock. Sure they fought and bitched each other out all the time, but his friend had never attacked him like this. He’d never seen the man so out of control and hysterical. He was surprised there weren’t nurses busting into the room to see what the hell was going on. He supposed this was what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of tantrums. After Aiden died they’d spent a whole hour yelling at each other, but they hadn’t actually been mad at each other. They vented, but they never hurt each other on purpose.

“Close your eyes,” Danny said in a low, dangerous voice. “Close your eyes and go to sleep and come back when you’re you again. ‘Cause I need you here with me. Whether you end bein’ the strong one or I somehow do. Tough kid, sissy kid, kid who climbs rocks, I don’t care which one you are. I need you really badly right now. If I can make an attempt to keep my shit together so can you, Flackie.”

Flack’s face suddenly went slack and tears welled up in his eyes. He closed them and one tear dripped down his cheek.

“’M sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m-I’m just…tired too.”

“I know.” Danny said in his best comforting voice, feeling his throat tighten up and his eyes itch with tears too. “S’okay. Don’t worry ‘bout.”

Flack nodded and sighed, sounding exhausted. “And m’sore. Everythin’ aches. My head feels split in two. Maybe ‘cause it was…”

Danny slipped his hand back into Flack’s. “I know. You wanna sleep, Donnie?”

“I think I could do that.”

“Okay. I’ll…I’ll be here. ‘Kay?”

Flack gave him a look that was a ghost of his usual ‘better listen to me, pal’ frown and said, “You should go home, Messer.”

Danny scowled at him. “To what? You’re here, Louie’s here, Aiden’s…Aiden’s dead...” He trailed off and shook his head slowly. “You’re here, Don. I got nothin’ at home but a case of beer and a cold bed. I don’t wanna be there. You’re here, so I’m here.”

Flack pulled his hand from Danny’s and held it out, palm up. “Gimme your cell phone.”

“Th’ fuck?”

“Just do it, you little bastard.”

Danny frowned, saying even as he handed it over, “You’re not supposed to use cells in the hospital. Fucks with the machinery or somethin’.”

“Oh, now you’re Mister I Follow the Rules? Thank you,” Flack grumbled, blearily squinting at the screen as he scrolled through the directory. He hit a couple more buttons, then held the cell to his ear.

“What’re you doin’? Orderin’ a pizza?”

“I still can’t believe you have Ray’s on speed dial, Danny…Hey, Stel, it’s Flack…Of course, I’m still in the hospital…Well, I wish I was unconscious…No, he’s still here, which is actually what I’m callin’ for. If he takes a cab from here and shows up on your doorstep, can you…well, can you keep on eye on him for me?...Yeah, I heard…I don’t think so…Kiddin’? I got so many meds in me right now, I could sleep till fuckin’ doomsday and not get a hard-on…Great. Thanks, Stel…Sure, tomorrow. Sounds good.” Flack hung and looked at Danny, who was staring at him with hurt and bewilderment written all over his face.

“What the hell was that, man?” He asked softly.

Flack settled back against the pillows and looked at Danny through half-closed eyes. “I want you to be somewhere safe tonight. Somewhere you can get some decent sleep. We both need it. Stella sounds like she could use some company anyway.”

“Since when do you decide what I do and don’t do? Where I go, where I sleep, huhn?” Danny demanded, trying really hard to sound forceful. Instead he sounded like a little kid trying to get another hour of TV before bed.

“I just want you safe. These past couple weeks…I’d sleep so much easier if I knew you were safe, Dan. Please. Go to Stella’s. Sleep on her couch and come back with her in the mornin’, okay?”

“I can’t believe you’re sendin’ me away.”

Flack groaned and closed his eyes completely. “Danny, please. I’m not sendin’ you away, man. I can’t control you, but I don’t want you fightin’ me on this. What I want is for you to be safe and okay. Look, d’you know how terrible it is to be jacked up on drugs and immobile in a hospital bed, scared shitless ‘bout someone you love?”

Danny bit his bottom lip and looked away. Of course he knew. He knew from both sides of the situation very well.

“Besides,” Flack went on, a small smile on his tired, cut up face, “I don’t want you catchin’ somethin’ ‘cause you’re hangin’ ‘round here twenty-four-seven, and then gettin’ all whiny on me ‘cause you’re sick.”

Danny cracked a weak grin and rolled his eyes. “Everyone on this floor is suffering from bodily harm. Broken legs and dislocated shoulders ain’t contagious, dumbass.”

“Bitch.”

“…Touché.”

Flack held out his good hand uncertainly and visibly relaxed when Danny didn’t hesitate in taking it. Both of their hands were warm, strong and rough. It was comforting, for both of them.

With his other hand, Danny reached into his shirt and pulled out his chain. Dangling from it were dog tags and a saints pennant. He took them off over his head and momentarily let go of Flack’s hand.

“Here,” he said quietly, standing up and leaning over Flack as he undid the clasp. “I’m lending you these, ‘kay?”

He slipped his hands under Flack’s head, mindful of the little cuts and scratches and re-clasped the chain around his neck. Then he settled his hands on the man’s jaw, bent, and pressed a kiss to his chapped lips. Flack used his good hand to pull Danny closer and into a tight hug.

“Don, no – I don’t wanna hurt you.” Danny tried to brace himself on the bed and keep his weight off his friend, but he was so tired and Flack was warm and still pretty strong even in his weakened state. He continued to protest feebly, but dropped his head to Flack’s shoulder and let himself be held tight and close.

Flack ignored him for another few seconds, and then released him slowly.

Danny gave him two more chaste kisses on the mouth then straightened, feeling the creak in his back go. He wasn’t sure how comfortable Stella’s couch was going to be to sleep on, but it had to be better than the stupid hospital chair. He didn’t particularly like the idea of leaving Flack’s side, even if it was for Stella’s, but he wasn’t sure he quite hated it either.

“Guess I’ll go now,” Danny murmured, dawdling.

Flack smiled sleepily and gave a vague wave towards the door. “So go, Messer.”

Danny flipped him off and slowed started to leave. When he got halfway out the door though, Flack said, “Hey, how bad do I look?”

Danny turned around and paused before saying, “You look like Wily E. Coyote after one of his fuck-ups. But you look okay too, y’know? Or like you’re gonna be okay.”

Closing his heavy eyelids and letting out a slow breathe, Flack said, “Thanks, Dan. Seriously.”

“You want me to bring anythin’ tomorrow? Books or food or somethin’?”

“Uh, sure. The navy blue zip-up hoodie? The one with that says ‘Bronx’ on the back.” He sounded mostly asleep already.

Danny paused. That sweatshirt was his own. Louie had given him some clothes before he took off two years earlier, just like when they were kids and Danny got his brother’s oversized hand-me-downs, and the Bronx hoodie had been a prize in the box of threadbare t-shirts and too long jeans. Since it had been Louie’s first, it fit Flack better. Only reason Danny had never given him the sweatshirt was because in the most vulnerable part of his brain, it kept Flack coming back to him.

But now Flack needed it and Danny was not about to refuse him. “Course. That all?”

“That really Ray’s Pizza set to speed-dial six?”

“Yeah. I’d’ve put in at one, but Mac woulda gotten all ‘sort out your priorities’ on my ass.” Danny only half-kidded.

“Then we’re set.”

“Yeah, sure. Okay, I’ll be back in the mornin’.”

“Mm-hm.”

Danny licked his lips and wondered if he should try and say something more. Something like ‘you scared the shit outta me’ or ‘I’m so relieved you’re okay’. Or ‘I love you’. But he just turned and left. With Flack asleep, anything he said would have just felt like ‘goodbye’, just like with Louie.