I couldn't resist. Last night's episode was soooooooooooo good, so I wrote a tag. So, spoilers ahead, and a hell of a lot of Danno angst. I love Danno angst :D
So, please enjoy, drop a comment if you can, and I own nothing.
P.S. I wasn't sure if he found a place to live, yet. Just letting you know now.
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Danny let himself into his 'home of the week,' tossing his keys onto the counter. He was surprised he even made it home, let alone through the front door. The day's events replayed through his mind-over and over again-making him feel sick to his stomach. He had nearly lost Grace, she could have died, and it would have been his fault.
He stumbled towards the kitchen, digging in one of the drawers for some aspirin, hoping to staunch the headache he had been fighting since they found Grace. He tried opening the bottle, remembering how his daughter had looked when they found her tied up in that storage unit. He shook his head, his hand slightly shaking hand slipping on the lid.
He never wanted to see that look in her eyes again. He never, ever wanted to be the cause of that look. He may not have taken her, but Peterson snatched her because he was mad at Danny. Grace was almost killed because Rick was convinced Danny had wronged him.
The lid stayed stubbornly on the pill bottle, and Williams slammed it into the counter. Pain shot through his hand and he whispered, "Shit." He shook his aching hand, bunching it up into a fist.
He was doing his job; he saw a dirty cop and he did what was necessary. Why did he have to be punished for doing what was right? Why did Grace have to suffer because he was a good cop? Yeah, he made some mistakes, but nothing to warrant what happened to his little girl.
None of it should have happened. Dave shouldn't have been killed, Grace shouldn't have been taken, Stan should never have been shot, and Rachel. Rachel should never have gone through that. No one knew desperation until they got that phone call telling them their child was missing.
And it was all because he made one stupid phone call, during a moment of weakness, months ago. He had been drunk; he didn't know what he was saying. He never should have made the call. Why did he make that fucking call?
Danny finally managed to get the cap off the bottle. He shook three pills into his hand, filled the coffee mug sitting on his counter with water, and downed all three pills.
He knew it wasn't because of the phone call. Peterson would have found another way to get to Danny. He was deranged enough, and he wanted revenge. Though, Williams had to give him one thing. He didn't kill Grace when he first grabbed her. Rick could have shot her after she spoke to Danny and kept up the charade that she was alive, but he didn't. As much as Williams hated the rotten bastard, Peterson did keep Grace alive.
He ran a hand across his mouth, moving towards his kitchen table. He thought about the trip to the hospital after they had found Grace. Rachel wouldn't speak to him, Grace was too scared to utter a word, and Stan was too drugged up to say anything.
Danny couldn't blame Rachel for avoiding him. He did shoot her husband. He was responsible for her daughter getting taken. It didn't matter if he had good intentions; Peterson did all this because of Danny. Besides, wasn't the road to Hell paved with good intentions?
He buried his face in his hands. The whole time he had been following Peterson's instructions, doing as that psycho asked, he had been hoping it was all a nightmare. That he would wake up, call Grace, and find her safe and sound at one of her pointless tennis lessons.
His phone rang, knocking Danny back to reality. He dug it out of his pocket-where he had stuck it after retrieving it from HPD-and checked the screen. Superman flashed back at him, and for once in his life Danny ignored Steve's call.
He tossed the phone onto his table, getting to his feet. He needed a drink, badly. Danny walked towards his fridge, pulling the door open to snatch a beer from the door. As he closed the door, he remembered what Steve had said to him back at the hospital, 'This isn't your fault, Danno.'
Yeah, not his fault; Steve knew what he was talking about. He had his fair share of crazies. But the amount of times the SEAL attracted crazies to their team; his had never snatched Grace.
Danny popped the cap off his beer, taking a swig. He shouldn't be drinking, he knew beer and pills didn't mix, but he didn't care. He just wanted to forget, even for a night. So, he drank. Steve could keep calling, he could break into Danny's place, he could be the nuisance that he was, but Williams wasn't going to stop drinking. He couldn't stop, not until he forgot.
Danny thought about that quote again: 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.' Danny had testified against Peterson and had sent him to jail. Dave had died to warn Danny that Rick was coming for him. Danny had shot Stan to save Grace: Danny, Danny, Danny.
It was times like these when Williams wondered why he even became a cop. Was it worth it? Putting the bad guys away just so they could get free and come after him and everyone he loved?
"To the road to Hell," Danny muttered lifting his bottle before taking another sip of beer. If the road to hell was indeed full of good intentions, Danny should have been there a long time ago. And if he hadn't made it there then, he definitely was heading there now.