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Title: Always Had Been
Author” Bluehaven4220
Pairing: Flack/OC
Summary: Madeleine Harper had fallen once before, into the arms of one Detective Don Flack. Was she prepared to do it again? Would she be able to accept him for what he'd always been?
Archive: Sure, as long as you ask me first
Reviews: Yes please, I LOVE reviews
As she rung out her hair, she walked from the bathroom to the front door and opened said door. Lo and behold, there stood Detective Don Flack. Looking at him, she saw that his eyes were red and bloodshot, his tie loosened, his hair tossled.
“Don, you look terrible, what happened?” she moved behind the door and stuck her head around to look at him.
“Can I come in? Tell you the whole story?” he asked.
“Don, I'd let you in but I'm really not dressed,” she told him.
“I'm not worried,” he answered. “Believe me, Maddie, I'm not worried about it.”
“Don, it will only take a minute. Just let me...”
“No,” he reached out and grabbed her naked bicep. Turning her head to look at him, she knew something wasn't right.
Something about him had changed drastically. Instead of the jacket he usually wore to work, he had on a windbreaker. Instead of his usual black pants, he looked like he was drowning in his sweat pants. His eyes were not only red and bloodshot, but haunted.
She moved out of the way and waited until he stepped inside, closing the front door behind him. His strong, calloused hands gripped her forearms as she stared back at him.
“Don, what happened?” she asked.
He couldn't speak.
“I need to know, Don...” she ran her index finger down his jawline. “Please Don... what happened?”
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, touched his forehead to her shoulder, and the first of his tears fell.
Madeleine ran her fingers through his dark hair and her fingers moved around to his cheeks. Gingerly, she cupped his face and quietly touched her lips to his.
Upon breaking apart, she took his hand and led him inside.
Untangling himself from the blanket, he slowly but surely made his way to the bathroom once again. Turning on the faucet, he splashed water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He'd used Maddie last night. His partner Dean Truby had gone down as a dirty cop, thanks to Don handing his memo book over to Mac, and Don had found solace with Maddie.
He and Maddie had broken up over a year ago, and now here he was, back in her arms. This was meaningless; he had used her friendship to gain what he wanted.
Upon showering, he got dressed and looked in on her through her bedroom door,sleeping peacefully, her red-brown hair splayed across the pillow, her sillouette still painted across the twilight entering the room. Her chest gently heaved up and down as her eyelids twitched. He watched as she rolled over, her hand hitting the empty pillow beside her, his hand on the doorknob.
Once he saw her head lift from the pillow, he slipped out and gently closed the door. He straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and walked down the hallway toward the street. It didn't take him long to get back to his own place. It was less than four blocks away. As soon as he was inside his apartment, he stripped and stepped into the shower once again.
The water running over his back, he mulled over what had happened. He'd walked around the precinct numb after Mac had taken Truby down. He hadn't even gone home, he'd gone wherever his body had taken him; and it had taken him to Maddie's. He was hurting; he just wanted the pain to stop.
Now here he was. He'd go in to work today and face the officers remaining. He knew that every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the precinct would be branding him a cad; you don't turn your back on your officers, you just don't do it. He knew that every drug dealer, rapist, and child molester Truby had put behind bars would be screaming for an appeal now that his credibility was in question, he knew that this was going to come back and bite him in the ass somehow.
Getting out of the shower, he shut the water off and got dressed as quickly as he could. Before leaving, he checked his cell phone. Eight new messages.
Perfect. Just absolutely fucking perfect! Who the hell would call eight times in the time he had taken to walk home from Maddie's and gotten into the shower? Shaking his head, he accessed his voice mail and listened.
BEEP
“Hey Don, it's me. Just calling to ask what time you left this morning. Call me soon.”
That was Maddie.
BEEP
“Donnie, it's your mother. Change that God foresaken voicemail message or I'll come and box your ears. Anyway, I want you over for dinner this Saturday, and if you're not there you better have a damn good reason.”
When had his mother ever used the words “God foresaken” or “damn good” in the same sentence?
BEEP
“You're probably in the shower, but I need you to call me.”
Maddie again.
BEEP
“Flack, it's Danny. Where the hell are ya, man? How you holding up?”
BEEP
“Don, it's Stella. How are you holding up? Anyway, call if you need anything, okay?”
BEEP
“Don, it's Hawkes. How are ya holding up?”
BEEP
“Don, it's Lindsay. I heard from Stella what happened. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help, but you're in my thoughts. How are you holding up?”
BEEP
“Don, call me please. We need to talk about what happened last night...”
Maddie again.
Midway through knotting his tie again, he realized that he had a day off. It was his first day off in more than three weeks. Besides, being a cop meant being on call all hours of the day, but today it didn't matter. He didn't want to talk about Truby or what he'd done, he didn't want to step foot in the precinct, he didn't want to look at or talk to Mac, he just wanted...
Maddie.
What was it about Maddie that had him so enthralled?
Enthralled? What the hell did that mean? For one thing, where had he heard it before? And another thing, what the hell was he doing, using a word like enthralled?
Picking up his keys and locking the door behind him, he almost flew down the stairs from his fourth floor apartment and down the sidewalk back to Maddie's apartment complex.
He buzzed her apartment.
“Harper...” she answered.
“Maddie, it's me. You wanted to talk?” he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Come on up,” he could hear the flat tone in her voice as the door unlocked and he walked up the stairs to her apartment on the seventh floor.
Knocking on her door, she opened it and stared at him with her hand on her hip.
“Yes I wanted to talk,” she let him in and closed the door. He sat down on the couch without invitation. “I wanted to know what happened last night when you ended up on my doorstep.”
“I know, and it shouldn't have happened, but it did.”
“Don, what makes you think...”
“I used you, Maddie,” Don stopped her, taking her hand. “I was in pain and I wanted it to stop. I wasn't even thinking about where I was going... I didn't even go home. I decided to go wherever my body took me, and I ended up here. Believe me, you're the one person I trust completely, but what I did last night wasn't right.”
“Hey,” she put a hand on his cheek and looked him in the eyes. “It wasn't wrong.”
“I used you, Maddie.”
“By coming to my apartment and asking to crash on my couch?”
He nodded.
“That's not using me," she told him. "That's asking for help.”
He smiled.
“We may have broken up, Don, but I'm glad you came to me last night,” she insisted. “I would rather that happen than you ending up int he bar and then attempting to drive home.”
She had a point.
“Now,” she took his hand. “I'm going to get us some coffee and you and I are going to talk about why you ended up in my apartment last night.”
He watched her as she got up and went to the kitchen. She reappeared less than a minute later with two steaming mugs. Handing one to him, she sat back down on the couch.
“So, what happened?”
Don hung his head, and then looked up at her, tiny tears rimming his eyelids. “You remember Dean Truby?”
“Somewhat. Why?”
“Me and the narco squad were in on a drug bust, and when we raided the apartment Truby came to me with 50 kilos of coke. Alright, fine, I wrote down 50 kilos, cause that's what Truby said he'd found. I trusted him to tell the truth.” He took a gulp of coffee; it burned on the way down. “Later, a coupla days ago, actually, Mac and me were investigating a paintball shooter who'd been shot in the back.”
“Rather ironic way to die,” Maddie mused, taking a sip of her own beverage.
“You're telling me. Anyway, when our M.E. took a look at the entrance wound she said there was something odd 'bout it, like someone had removed the bullet.”
She nodded. “Uh huh, go on.”
“What was...” he gulped on his emotions. “What was even more odd about it was that the wound had traces of black cocaine around it.”
“Black cocaine?”
“Turns out it was the same stuff Truby and I had busted outta that apartment earlier,” he told her, biting his lip. “I went to the dealer, who's doin' a dime in Sing Sing for it, and I asked him how many kilos he'd kept in that apartment.” He gulped his coffee again. “He told me he had 53 kilos.”
“53?” Maddie repeated, setting her coffee mug on the table. “But that means...”
“3 kilos were missing,” Don finished her thought. “And Mac found out that Truby had stolen it and shot this paintballer and then retrived the bullet to keep it covered. He needed my memo book to prove it.”
“And you gave it to him?”
“He was gonna get a warrant if I didn't. Mac can be an absolute prick when he wants to be.” Don set his coffee cup down and took her other hand. “I co-operated willingly, because I guess somewhere deep down I was doin' the right thing.”
“And you did, but you still haven't told me why you ended up here.”
“I'm gettin' there,” he nodded. “Well, Truby is my friend, not just my co-worker. It hurt me because I trusted him. He was a good cop, everything he'd ever done had been by the book. Now there's gonna be screams for appeals from every drug dealer and rapist and child molester he ever put away.” He looked at her, a single tear running down his cheek. “It hurt because...”
“You felt betrayed,” she nodded knowingly, taking him in her arms. “Of course you would feel betrayed, Don. Truby was your friend. I can understand.”
He pulled away from her. “Even if I felt betrayed, Maddie, there are other ways to deal with it. I shouldn't have been here last night.”
“But you were,” she slowly slid her hand up his shirt and gently pushed him down on to his back."And I'm glad you were. I want only good things for you, and if you were here because you needed a friend, that's fine.”
He smiled to himself. He was only the man he was now because of Maddie. Before her, he had known nothing but work. He hadn't cared about anything other than catching the perp, getting home, and going to sleep, rousing at any and all hours when the next call came in. When he had met Maddie everything had changed.
She had made him slow down and appreciate what he had. For their first date he had cooked her the most delicious Irish stew and soda bread she'd ever had and had read to her from “The Iliad”, which, in her opinion, had to be the most beautiful Greek poem she had ever read. She'd watched his lips as he read the first paragraph:
“Rage-- Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighter's souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, Agamemmon lord of men and brilliant Achilles.”
They hadn't even finished the first page before she had leaned forward and kissed him. The book had fallen to the floor as the kiss had quickly turned to more. They hadn't slept together that night, but they had sure come close.
Don had called her the next night and had asked her to go skating.
She'd never been on skates before. Just the mere thought of getting on skates was trying in itself.
“I'll hold your hands, I promise,” he smiled as he helped her lace up her skates.
The two of them skated around the ice together, more like he was physically holding her up and coaxing her into taking tiny steps. It had taken them over three hours to get around the rink more than six times, but she didn't think she'd done half badly.
When he'd dropped her off at home that night, he smiled and promised something even better the next time they went out. A surprise, he'd said.
Maddie loved surprises.
Of course, they'd spent the better part of a year getting to know each other before Don took her to the NYPD Christmas party that year. As soon as she stepped in the door and accepted Don's help with her coat, she immediately felt out of place.
“Don, why did you bring me? I have no standing with the NYPD...”
“Maddie, this is the Christmas party. Officers are permitted to bring a guest. Don't worry about it, my old friend Stella is going to love you.”
“No she won't Don.”
“Oh, you wait and see,” he winked and kissed her cheek. He offered her his arm and walked her into the hall, a small smile spread across her lips. Immediately, she saw a tall, curly-haired woman walking toward them.
“Don, look at you, all cleaned up!” the woman smiled and kissed his cheek, then the other.
How European.
“Stell, this is...” Don held her out as though presenting her to the Academy.
“I'm Madeleine. Madeleine Harper,” she held out her hand.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Stella smiled, “now come with me, sweetie, you have to meet everyone!” She shook Maddie's hand and lead her over to where the rest of what she assumed where the rest of the CSI team Don had told her about. Stella introduced her to Mac, Danny, Lindsay, and Sheldon. Just as Maddie was settling into conversation with Lindsay, Don came over and rested his chin upon her shoulder.
“Good to see you again,” he whispered, quietly kissing her cheek.
“You too,” she whispered and pulled his ear closer to her mouth. “You were right, Stella really is a nice young woman."
"What'd I tell you?" he smiled, taking her hand.
Madeleine Harper was the best thing to have ever happened to him, and he knew it. What he hadn't expected was that she would change his life as much as she had. When they had ended their relationship it had torn him apart. He'd gone to work, sure, but he was like an empty shell. There were some days where he could barely get out of bed, but he did. Work was work, your personal life was your personal life.
When Truby had been arrested the first thing that had crossed his mind was not “Get home”, it had been “Find Maddie”, and found Maddie he had. She had accepted him as he was. Her questions had not gone beyond “What happened”, and when she had brought him into her apartment and stayed up half the night to let him cry on her shoulder she had given him solace, she was everything he wanted.
As the two of them walked into the kitchen to put the mugs in the sink, her hand accidently passed over his abdomen.
He tensed.
“What?” she looked up.
“My... my scar...”
He saw her eyebrow raise.
“What scar?” she asked.
She didn't know? Surely she would have known about the explosion last May. Either she had been out of state or living under a rock when it had happened. He remembered that they had broken things off by then, and she had family in Vermont... it was entirely possible that she knew nothing of this scar, maybe she was off in Vermont.
Now curious, she very gently lifted his shirt, only to have his hand grip her wrist.
“Don't... don't want you to see it,” he insisted.
“Why?”
“Makes... makes me uncomfortable.” He answered, turning away and running the water in the kitchen sink.
“Don,” she kissed his cheek. “Scars aren't anything to be ashamed of. If nothing else, they're badges of experience.” Her hand gently gripped his wrist. “I promise I'm not going to gawk, I just want to see what happened. It's part of you, Donald Flack.”
He gave up trying to hide it and lifted the shirt up to reveal a long, pale scar running from his chest to his abdomen.
“Oh my...” she gasped. “Don, why are you concealing this? This is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Too difficult...” he answered.
“What's too difficult?” she walked back to the living room, Don following close behind. “The fact that you have this scar, or the fact that I've now seen it?”
He grit his teeth. “Both...”
She nodded. “I think scars tell stories more than anything."
He smiled at her. “I'm not proud of it."
“Don, you shouldn't be ashamed. That scar will carry through with you for the rest of your life.”
“That's what I'm worried about.”
“But you're alive,” she told him. “ For someone who's been betrayed and had their chest ripped open you're alive, and that's what matters.”
“Nothing matters if I don't have you,” he muttered.
Had he just said what she thought he said?
“What?”
“It was a mistake to let you go, Maddie,” he confessed. “Everything I've done since you left, it's all been empty... because you haven't been there. I need you, Madeleine Harper. You're my best friend.”
“Well, I...”
He put a finger to her lips, silencing her. “Shhh,” he whispered. "I'm telling the truth."
She smiled, small tears forming. "You know what I'd like?"
"What's that?"
“I'd like,” she rolled over to face him, her hand resting under her head. “To be able to go outside and breathe the fresh air, to be able to sit with you and be able to look you in the eye and tell you everything I've always wanted to say. I want to be able to fall into your arms and cry hysterically and know that the reason I'm crying is because you love me...”
She saw his eyes widen.
“The truth is,” she continued. “I love you, Don, and I've never stopped loving you.”
He still couldn't speak.
“You meant everything to me,” her hand reached his cheek. “I wanted to marry you.”
“I, uh...” he stumbled. “Maddie, I don't know what to say to that.”
“Tell me you felt the same way.”
Don stumbled. It was true; he had fallen in love with Maddie the first time he'd met her. She'd changed everything about him. The way he walked, the way he did his job, absolutely everything. She had always been different, and he liked it that way.
“Yes...” he admitted.
She knew it.
An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them. All they could do was stare at each other, waiting for one to say something to the other. When nothing was said, their prayers were answered when Don's voice mail alerted him that he'd missed a call.
Groaning, he walked over to the table and answered said voice mail.
“Your phone's off,” came the curt reply.
“Uh, sorry Stella,” he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.
“There's a body dump in Queens, we need you there.”
“No way I can get there in less than half an hour,” he answered. “Actually, why are you calling me? It's my day off.”
“You're on call!”
“That doesn't mean I'm gonna answer it,” he bit his lip to keep from shouting, seeing Maddie move to his bookcase as he spoke. “Is there no one else that can take the scene?”
“I could probably get Kailie to do it, just wanted to call you first.”
Don shook his head. “Then if she can't do it, call me, alright?” It wasn't that he was angry with Stella, it was more that he had been hoping that he wouldn't have to go in and face the brunt of the memo book.
“Look, I know that you're hurting, but please, don't shut me out.”
“Okay, Stell, I gotta go,” he placed the phone back in its cradle and turned back to Maddie, who had changed into a sleek sun dress (from sleeping in her clothes from the day before) and had gone back to pursuing a book on the shelf.
“What'cha looking at?” he asked, quickly getting dressed.
“Photo album,” she brought it down and set it down on the couch. “Come sit with me?”
He smiled, settling in on the couch beside the woman he loved. Now, and forever, he would be hers.
Always had been...
Always would be.