STUDIO 60: Would've, Could've, Should've
Title: Would've, Could've, Should've
Characters/Pairing: Matt/Danny
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG
Summary: Matt's across the country for a few days, and there's only one way Danny knows how to cope with a rough weekend.
Notes: Written for thisbemadness challenge #5.
Disclaimer: I am not Aaron Sorkin. No, I swear. If I were, I'd have more important things to do. Like, say, writing the actual show.
Danny never came down from a high slowly or gently - he plummeted like a rock. It wasn't even crash and burn, just the crash, so hard it seemed the impact had to be audible for a mile around and there he was on the ground, the breath knocked out of him, shattered.
Funny, how eleven years could make you forget things like that.
He didn't move when his cell phone rang, just buried his face into his pillow, although the phone was sitting on the dresser right beside his bed, right there. It seemed like too much effort to pick it up, and now that he thought about it, that ring was annoying, the music from that Gilbert and Sullivan show Danny could never remember the name of and Matt always did and why didn't phones ever just ring anymore instead of playing some inane song and...
Slowly it dawned on him just what that that particular song meant. Matt. Shit.
He reached out without thinking, ignoring the heaviness in his arms, the fatigue that had settled on him, snatched the phone off the dresser and flipped it open. "Yeah?"
There was a pause, and then Matt commented with what sounded like surprise, "What are you doing picking up your phone at four in the morning?"
"What are you doing calling at four in the morning?" Danny asked, trying to keep the fogginess out of his voice and only partially succeeding - there were reasons he wasn't an actor.
"If I'd thought you would've picked up, I wouldn't have called."
"Thanks..."
"It's seven AM here."
"This is important why?"
He could imagine Matt's expression perfectly as he answered, "It explains why I called at four in the morning. Are you alright?"
Danny grimaced and rubbed at his face with his free hand. "Yeah, why?"
"You don't sound okay."
"I'm fine. Look, is there a reason you called?"
"I honestly can't remember."
"Great. I'm hanging up now." But he didn't, not for a minute or two, and Matt stayed on the line, waiting. Matt learned everything about him sooner or later, he should let him know... "You're coming home soon, right?"
"In two days. Do I need to come back sooner? Did something happen?" If he'd had the energy, Danny would have smiled at the worry in Matt's voice. Just slightly neurotic. Not enough that anyone but Danny ever saw it.
"No. It's fine. Enjoy your trip."
He hung up, and let his hand fall to his side, closing his eyes once more and just lying there. Keeping up the pretense of being fine was too exhausting just now, and it was all he could do for a moment to lie there and muster the energy to remember to breathe. He should have told him. Matt would find out eventually, always did. But for now... all he could do was lay there. Breathe. And think, distantly, in the back of his mind in a not-quite-conscious way he wouldn't acknowledge, that this wouldn't have happened if Matt weren't across the country.
Would've, could've, should've. He rolled over, slowly, onto his side, and set the phone back down on the dresser. He could deal with thinking, and worrying, and telling Matt, in the morning.
Characters/Pairing: Matt/Danny
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG
Summary: Matt's across the country for a few days, and there's only one way Danny knows how to cope with a rough weekend.
Notes: Written for thisbemadness challenge #5.
Disclaimer: I am not Aaron Sorkin. No, I swear. If I were, I'd have more important things to do. Like, say, writing the actual show.
Danny never came down from a high slowly or gently - he plummeted like a rock. It wasn't even crash and burn, just the crash, so hard it seemed the impact had to be audible for a mile around and there he was on the ground, the breath knocked out of him, shattered.
Funny, how eleven years could make you forget things like that.
He didn't move when his cell phone rang, just buried his face into his pillow, although the phone was sitting on the dresser right beside his bed, right there. It seemed like too much effort to pick it up, and now that he thought about it, that ring was annoying, the music from that Gilbert and Sullivan show Danny could never remember the name of and Matt always did and why didn't phones ever just ring anymore instead of playing some inane song and...
Slowly it dawned on him just what that that particular song meant. Matt. Shit.
He reached out without thinking, ignoring the heaviness in his arms, the fatigue that had settled on him, snatched the phone off the dresser and flipped it open. "Yeah?"
There was a pause, and then Matt commented with what sounded like surprise, "What are you doing picking up your phone at four in the morning?"
"What are you doing calling at four in the morning?" Danny asked, trying to keep the fogginess out of his voice and only partially succeeding - there were reasons he wasn't an actor.
"If I'd thought you would've picked up, I wouldn't have called."
"Thanks..."
"It's seven AM here."
"This is important why?"
He could imagine Matt's expression perfectly as he answered, "It explains why I called at four in the morning. Are you alright?"
Danny grimaced and rubbed at his face with his free hand. "Yeah, why?"
"You don't sound okay."
"I'm fine. Look, is there a reason you called?"
"I honestly can't remember."
"Great. I'm hanging up now." But he didn't, not for a minute or two, and Matt stayed on the line, waiting. Matt learned everything about him sooner or later, he should let him know... "You're coming home soon, right?"
"In two days. Do I need to come back sooner? Did something happen?" If he'd had the energy, Danny would have smiled at the worry in Matt's voice. Just slightly neurotic. Not enough that anyone but Danny ever saw it.
"No. It's fine. Enjoy your trip."
He hung up, and let his hand fall to his side, closing his eyes once more and just lying there. Keeping up the pretense of being fine was too exhausting just now, and it was all he could do for a moment to lie there and muster the energy to remember to breathe. He should have told him. Matt would find out eventually, always did. But for now... all he could do was lay there. Breathe. And think, distantly, in the back of his mind in a not-quite-conscious way he wouldn't acknowledge, that this wouldn't have happened if Matt weren't across the country.
Would've, could've, should've. He rolled over, slowly, onto his side, and set the phone back down on the dresser. He could deal with thinking, and worrying, and telling Matt, in the morning.