A/N: oh how the angst flows through me into the computer. feels kinda rushed, but meh, hope you likes anyway. huzzah for danny/flack. (and 'escape hatch' shall be updated by tomorrow night, i swears it.)

Don stood in his apartment doorway staring at the shivering man before him. Danny was standing hunched with his head ducked and his hands jammed deep in his jacket pockets. The jacket Don lent him two years ago and never got back, never bothered to get back because it actually looked better on the Messer than him. He’d missed it though, and the man wearing it.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Don finally asked quietly, breaking the heavy silence.

“I don’ know,” Danny muttered to the hall floor. “I wanted to come here.”

It’d been two months since Danny had wanted to be at Don’s apartment.

“Oh yeah, Messer? And why’s that?”

Danny met his gaze apprehensively from under heavy, red-rimmed lids. He had dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises pressing in on the bridge of his nose and his face was thinner.

“I just…I gotta talk to someone.”

Don clenched his jaw and looked distractedly up and down the empty hallway. Even when they’d sort of been together, back when they were the best of friends and as close as can be, Danny had never said anything like that to him.

“Fine,” Don said, hoping he sounded cold and diffident. “Come in. Get outta the goddamn hallway so I can close the fuckin door. Lettin’ all my heat out…”

Danny quickly darted into the dark apartment and toed off his shoes. He kept his jacket on though. Don closed and locked the door behind him. Despite the painful, gnawing ache in his gut at having Danny in his space wanting to talk and be helped, he gestured to the couch and offered the man a drink.

“No. Thanks.” He dropped heavily into the plushy cushions and sank into them with a groan of relief.

“…You okay?” Don asked reluctantly.

“I walked here.”

“Christ, that’s a twenty minutes subway ride.”

“Long walk…long walk,” Danny murmured, feeling the all too familiar sting behind his eyes. He’d missed being here. He’d missed how it was always warmer and quieter and calmer at Don’s place. He’d missed being alone in Don’s sturdy and comforting presence.

It’d been two months since he’d properly been here last. There’d been a fight, a really bad one, kick-started by another discussion about Louie and quickly progressing to Flack Senior, then to the tension with Mac, then to the deal with Lindsay. It’d ended with Don almost taking a swing at Danny, and Danny slamming his way out the door yelling promises of never coming back.

Both men had been handling each other at work alright, but both their outside lives were hell now. Neither knew it about the other, but Danny and Don were lonely, angry and hurt. Don was worried about Danny having a mental meltdown over all that happened in the spring, and Danny was making himself sick wondering if Don was still doing okay, even six months after the explosion. So far though, both had been too proud and stubborn to say or do anything. Until tonight.

Don had been halfheartedly watching some old Paul Newman movie when Danny had shown up at his door. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a thrill of excitement and relief along with the anger and bitterness at seeing who had buzzed his apartment. But now he was moving slowly and cautiously.

He sat down in his battered recliner chair and eyed Danny carefully from across the coffee table. Danny was slumped and slouched on the couch, staring blankly at nothing. He looked worn out and exhausted, but Don kept his mouth shut. Told himself that Danny Messer didn’t deserve his coddling or worry.

“So…I asked Lindsay out this afternoon.”

Don’s scowl could have bowled over an elephant. “Fuck would I wanna know that for, huhn, Messer?”

Danny tilted his head and squinted at his old friend. “Relax. She said no.”

Don’s scowl deepened even more and he shifted in his seat, clenching his fists and flexing his muscles furiously.

He did not want to know about this shit. But he had always been loyal to a fault, so he just nodded for Danny to continue.

“Said that she wasn’t interested in me. Which I can see, considerin’ how mental I’ve been this past little while. I mean, I haven’t screwed up too much at the lab, but, man, have I been weird.”

“You’ve always been weird, Dan.” There was more affection in that sentence than was intended, but Danny took no visible note of it.

He just heaved a sigh and said, “I’m so glad and relieved she turned me down, man. If she’d said yes, I’d’ve screwed it up so fuckin’ bad. I’d’ve hurt her, hurt the lab…hurt myself.”

Don nodded again, slowly, but said nothing.

“…I didn’t come back here to try and get you back,” Danny murmured, not meeting Don’s gaze. “I mean…that’d…I want that. So goddamn much. But I know I lost it and by my own devices, so don’t worry, okay? I won’t…I dunno. Beg or embarrass you or nothin’. I just…I just wanted to apologize. For hurtin’ you like I did. I was so fuckin mad at Louie for doin’ what he did to me – pushin’ me away and all – and I did the same to you. I shoulda been there for you. I wish I’d been there.”

Don stared at him for a minute, finding it difficult to breathe evenly. Then he said in a low tone, “I know. Don’ worry ‘bout it, awright? Just…don’t. It don’t matter, pal.”

Danny’s face was drawn and his eyes were wide and overly blue. “Yeah, it does fuckin’ to matter, Donnie. I fucked up. So lemme ‘pologize, awright? Christ.”

“Fine, go ahead.”

“…I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I swear on my mother, I wish I could take it back, all the stupid asshole shit I said and did. All of it.”

Don swallowed painfully and croaked out, “S’okay. S’okay, Messer. I forgive you. Really.”

Danny suddenly stood and strode towards the apartment door. He had his shoes back on and was reaching for the door bolts before Don could catch up with him and say gently, “Dan, c’mon, man. You’re about to hit the floor. Stay. Stay the night. Crash on my pull-out, get some decent sleep – I know I have way better heating than you – and in the mornin’, you can have a good long shower and I’ll take you to breakfast, awright? We can talk things out. We gotta talk things out, pal, seriously. You take that walk home and you’ll pass out before you reach the bridge.”

Danny’s face tightened into an anguished scowl as he turned to face Don. “Fuck, man! Why you always gotta do that, huhn? Always make me sleep and eat and be fuckin’ nice to me? Stop takin’ care of me! You’re not supposed to!”

“Danny-”

“NO!” Danny practically screamed. All of a sudden he was nearing hysterics and sobbing desperately between angry words. “Everythin’ in my life has been entirely fucked! And then you come along and screw it up by bein’ nice and makin’ me let my guard down. Nobody’s supposed to be nice to me. Not to me!” Danny slumped against the wall and slid down to crouch and tremble on the floor. “Why you always gotta do that, huhn, Donnie?”

Don gritted his teeth, reached down, caught hold of the lapels of that jacket, and yanked him to his feet. Propping Danny back up against the wall, he said firmly but gently, “Knock it off, Danny. Just knock it off, awright? Whatsa matter with you, huhn? Tell me.”

“I wish I could take everythin’ back,” he admitted miserably. “I wish – I wish I could go somewhere where nobody knows me.”

Don sighed and starting using the sleeve cuffs of his sweatshirt to wipe away the tears. “I know you do. I wish I could too. But where could we go?”

Danny shrugged listlessly, calmed down now, and unconsciously leaned into Don a little. “Nowhere, I guess…Why you bein’ nice to me again, huhn, Flackie?”

“’Cause I’m your best fuckin’ friend, you douchebag.”

“Wuh-what?”

“I’m your friend. Even if you do act and talk like an asshole sometimes and call me friggin’ Flackie. Got it?”

Danny rubbed harshly at his eyes and cheeks, making them even redder, and sniffed. His hands were shaking, his limbs felt weak and leaden, and his head was killing him, but he was so glad that Don wasn’t beating the shit out of him or screaming or anything else his overactive imagination had come up with at visualizing this visit, that he just did not care.

“Fuck is with you all of a sudden, huhn?” he asked not unkindly. “You-you like me again?” He paused only for half a beat. “As a friend?”

Don shrugged, faking nonchalance. “You’ll always be my friend. Even if you take off and leave me in the dust to go hang out with some yokel from Montana.”

Danny groaned and ducked his head. “Aw fuck, man. What was I thinkin’ goin’ after her? Thank God she turned me down. Fuck.”

“Yeah…Thank God.”

csinycsinycsiny

Danny ended up crashing not on the couch, but beside Don in the bed. This had been agreed to only after Don firmly set down the rule of no kissing, inappropriate touching, or otherwise of the like, and that full length pajamas were to be worn. Danny had readily agreed. He needed a warm body tonight. Not for sex (though he’d been dying for Don for the past eight weeks) but for warmth. Even though it was almost November, Danny’s landlord still hadn’t booted up the radiators yet.

So Danny climbed in gingerly and settled on his back to him at the edge of the mattress. His muscles screamed with relief at the comfort after two months of lying in bed alone or with stranger and therefore never quite settling, the long and punishing hours of being a New York City detective, and the cold trek from his place to here. He pulled the lovely flannel blankets and quilts up to his chin and let his sore eyes slide shut, reveling in the feel of Don climbing into bed next to him.

Don lay down uncertainly, wondering if this was a rush forward – he really had no idea what the fuck he was doing, letting the man who broke his heart back into his bed, but it felt right, so it couldn’t be entirely wrong – but then he looked over at the Messer and felt himself ease a little. Danny was a fuck-up, but he was Don’s fuck-up.

He hit the light and draped an arm across Danny’s sternum and ribs. He didn’t hold on, shift closer or pull the smaller man to him, just lay close with that arm settled heavily over Danny.

Danny’s eyes flew open and he held his breathe at the gesture, but nothing more happened and he could hear Don’s breathing starting to slow. He relaxed and closed his eyes again, sliding a hand up to encircled Don’s wrist with loose fingers.

“Hey, Don?” he ventured after a minute, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Mm.”

“I, uh, I know I said I wouldn’t beg or embarrass you or nothin’, but, um, what do you think the odds of you takin’ me back are? Like, actually takin’ me back. As a boyfriend?”

Don seriously thought about it for a few still moments. He’d missed Danny so much. He loved the man, and not like as a close friend or brother, but really loved him. He was difficult and all, but that was what made him Danny. And again, he was Don’s. And this felt pretty right and okay to him, just lying there, sharing a bed and whispering together, even with the weight of the past two months hanging over them.

“You still houndin’ after Monroe?”

“No. I don’ know what that was. Panic, maybe? Whatever it was, I’m done now.”

“You gonna act like a four-year-old whenever you lose an argument and storm outta here?”

“…Probably. But I’ll back next time. I swear, I will. And not after two fuckin months. Two hours, tops.”

Don smirked briefly despite himself. He’d missed Danny’s smart-ass, jerk-off sense of humour.

“Awright…you gotta a sixty percent chance of gettin’ back in this bed properly. How’s that sound?”

Danny let out a slow, even breath and said softly, “That sounds like a bet I’d take.”

“Mind that other forty percent though, Dan.”

“I will. I will.”

csinycsinycsiny

Three days later, Danny had edged his chances up to seventy percent. He treading carefully and working hard to gain Don’s trust again, and Don had been keeping him updated with where he stood, which he was grateful for. For once his scientific brain was beating out his over-emotional heart and he was trusting numbers rather than his own instincts.

He was sitting in the break room picking at his lunch and flipping back and forth between a case file and the most recent issue of Spin when Lindsay came in. Danny glanced up, saw who it was, and dropped his gaze back down. They hadn’t had any contact since his failed attempt to ask her out, and he really would have preferred to keep his distance for a while, at least until his embarrassment eased a little.

She got a bottle of water and was about to walk out of the break room without noticing him, but then suddenly glanced over and saw him. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then steel herself and stride over to his table in the corner.

She sat opposite him and smiled. “Hey, Danny.”

“Hi,” he said shortly, pointedly keeping his gaze on a review of the recent Who world tour.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

The corners of Danny’s mouth turned down in distaste, but his lifted his head and shrugged at her. “Yeah, I guess. What’s up?”

Lindsay’s smile broadened and she leaned forward on her elbows, as if about to share some juicy gossip.

“I thought about what happened on Tuesday between us and I’ve come to a decision.”

“Uh, look, Lin-”

“I’ve changed my mind.” She leaned even closer. “I do want to act on the chemistry between us.”

Danny licked his lips nervously and started drumming his fingers on the tabletop, not quite meeting her gaze anymore. “I, uh, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I don’t think I ever really could. It-it’s not you – and I know how cliché that sounds but it’s true – it’s me. I’m mental. And – I kinda got someone else that I-”

“You already have someone else you like? Jesus, Messer, what’s wrong with you?” Lindsay asked angrily, staring at him disbelievingly.

Danny winced and shook his head. “No. No, you don’t get it. I – I’m not doin’ this very well. Look, I was in a relationship until a little while ago that was incredibly important to me. But I screwed it up. And now it…there’s a chance I might be able to fix it, and get it back.”

“If it meant so much to you, then why’d you ask me out?”

Danny turned his head and bared his fangs at the tile floor. Then he shoved away his pride and said, “I’ve been dealin’ with depression. Maybe some post-trauma too. Like I’m tryna tell you, I asked you out for the wrong reasons. I’ve been upset over breaking up with the person I love and the other day I just…freaked. So, I’m sorry you had to be on the receivin’ end of that, but it was nothin’, really.”

Lindsay continued to stare at him in anger and disbelief. Danny felt bad for her; it sucked hard to hang yourself out on a ledge only to be shut down. He knew from experience. But he had to tell her the whole and honest truth, and make a clean break.

“You are mental.”

“…Thanks.”

She pushed away from the table, made it six steps, then stopped and turned on him again. “What about the chemistry?”

“I…I’m sorry.”

She made that puppy-dog face that she always got when she was upset, and shook her head. “You asshole. You know what? Whatever. Maybe I’ll go talk to Flack or Hawkes, instead, huhn? Then you can find out how it feels.”

Lindsay left quickly, saying over her shoulder, “And don’t you ever fucking call me ‘Montana’ again, you hear me?”

“No, okay, I won’t,” Danny called out in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. He really did feel crappy about how he’d treated her.

“Eighty.”

Danny jumped and looked to the door on the other side of the room that led to the locker room. Don was standing there, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised.

“Jeez, man. Scared the piss outta me. How long you been there, hahn?”

Don’s face creased into a broad smile. “Long enough to decide to up your odds to eighty percent.”

Danny couldn’t help grinning goofily. His odds had been rising in single digits up to this point, and never anything higher than five or six.

“I’m so gonna win,” he informed Don cockily.

“This ain’t contest, Messer,” Don replied, sounding amused. “It’s not like you got any competition.”

“Sure, I do. My own asshole self. But I’m gonna win, believe me.”

Don sighed and rolled his eyes impatiently. “I know, Dan. I always believe you.”