A/N: Another story! I don't own Without a Trace etc, if I did it would still be on air. I don't profit from this, I merely do it to make my public transport adventure/torture/ride to work (delete as appropriate) more bearable.
A/N 2: I am working on Deception. I will finish it, hopefully soon (i.e. in a few months).
Danny paced up and down. What the hell was taking them so long? Why the hell did they need to run more tests?! He knew he was exhausted; he didn't need a doctor, or a million different tests to tell him that. He had fallen asleep on a beach that was all. After the last few months, who could blame him? As usual it seemed like every single person of New York had decided to go missing, he had forgotten the last full weekend he had off. Then Viv's heart condition had happened, and the team had been reduced to four. The same number of people continued to go missing, but there were less people investigating. Then Rafi, he sat down and rubbed his face with his hands, vaguely noting how callus they felt. Despite everything he had managed to get Rafi six months in a prison upstate. The place was renown for its treatment program. He just hoped Rafi didn't feel too pressured and succumb to his addiction when he left. He had been visiting Silva, Rafi's wife, most nights he just checked on them. He sometimes babysat when Silva couldn't get someone for her night shifts. He shuddered on occasions he couldn't remember driving there, nor the drive back to work after reviewing Rafi's case for most of the night.
He closed his eyes. He wanted to curl into a ball, or maybe scream and smash the room up, but he knew they were watching. Then Martin has been shot, at first he thought he would die. There were moments when he has been kneeing on that wet tarmac, trying to stop Martin's life from leaving him, that he has thought Martin has died. He had thrown himself into finding Dornvald, knowing he would crack if he didn't keep busy. After the case he was just too tired to visit him, well that's what he told himself anyway. But those hours turned into days, and the days into weeks.
Now it has been six weeks, and Martin's return to work was just around the corner. He guessed that's why he had asked for time off. Well he presumed he couldn't remember asking for it, what else would explain why he has woken up on a beach in Hawaii?
He heard the door opening and looked up. He prepared himself for another argument with the doctor. He frowned, "Jack?" Jack looked different from when he had seen him on Friday, slightly more grey hairs, but less haggard and slightly trimmer, but there was something in his eyes he couldn't quite read.
Danny frowned again. Jack's tone mirrored his body language; hesitated, unsure, almost as if he was afraid. "Jack, can you tell these doctors I'm fine, I just fell asleep that's all!"
Sure," Jack replied in the same lost tone.
"Please!" Danny pleaded, watching Jack slowly step forward and touch his shoulders as though he was checking he was real. "They've had me here for hours and run god knows how many tests. I'm just tired that's all, and after the last few months can you blame me!"
"Danny sit down."
"Jack?" Jack's tone had a little more strengthen this time, but it still held the uncertainly. "Jack, what's going on? Why are they running all of these tests? Oh god, please don't say I've been drinking!"
"No, they ran a full tox screen when you came in, you're clean."
"Then what?" Danny exclaimed, becoming more and more agitated. He felt Jack's hand is shoulder, it felt strangely comforting, as though he has somehow being missing human contact.
"What's the date?"
"The date? September 12th 2009," Danny replied. He watched Jack look away for moment. "Okay, I'm a couple of days out, but, well you know."
"Danny, it's November 14th 2014, you've been missing for over 5 years."