[TM] 309 - Forgotten
[Danny referred to here is 3packof-bvds and is mine to do whatever I want with. Flack referred to here is and-dontgetcute and isn't even in this prompt, since his dumb ass was too wrapped up in his own guilt to even call her.]
They say no news is good news, but Elle had pushed past that aspect of her day. Fred hadn't eaten anything out of his bowl, and she could honestly admit that it was most likely because she hadn't eaten either. The knot in her stomach far too tense to allow her to want to eat anything, let alone manage to do so. Every time she shifted on the couch, Fred's little head would lift off of his front paws to see if she was going to move. He'd been her watcher now, and she was grateful for his constant nudges at her feet.
He hadn't come home the night before, and now it was morning and she assumed he'd just clean up at work and head onto the scene. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before. Granted, a Knicks game always made more sense for crashing on Danny's couch and being a guy with the guys, more than this had become. It hadn't been something she could just forget about. She couldn't notice the mornings he slept in later, didn't have time to shave, barely made it out the door on time. She couldn't just ignore the silence from his side of the bed, or the distance she felt.
Some days were better than others, and other days were worse than they had been in a while. Trying to keep up some sort of semblance of normalcy was what she strived for, but most of the time she felt she was barely able to deal with her own monsters. The darkness that she knew she had in her, was a far cry from the sort of girl that should be with one of New York's finest.
He hadn't called though, and what made it worse was that other people were calling. Danny and Mac both tried to reach him, and that meant the no news she had, was not good news at all. It also meant there was nothing she could do. Part of her wanted to call Molly. To use whatever resources she could get her hands on to find him, but the thought quickly slipped away as Danny came to the house to check in on her. She knew the truth though, and as soon as she let him in she handed over his service revolver.
"He didn't take it with him," Elle quickly defended him. It was easy, and it was simple to do. Danny just nodded and placed a hand to her shoulder trying to give her some level of comfort. Fred was mostly happy to smell another dog on Danny's jeans. Her hands went to the back pockets of her jeans, watching Danny move through the apartment, sifting through things, trying to see if there was something that she didn't notice. If he had found anything, even something small she would hate herself for not knowing the man she had been living with well enough. Elle knew he still had his ankle holster, but there was something more automatic about that, versus his revolver. Maybe she'd regret it, but she was keeping that to herself. Swallowing hard, she heard Danny finish up in the den and return to trying to comfort her.
"Hey, look, this sort'a thing happens. He's got to blow off some steam, sort things out a bit, maybe. This'll be done soon and you'll hear from him."
It was a small comfort, only smaller because Elle knew how bad things could actually get. She knew that things could shift suddenly, that one minute you could have a partner in crime, and the next he'd be pinning you to the sand trying to slice your head open. Nodding, Elle remained silent, as Danny gave her a hug. Her hands stayed wrapped around herself, even as he rubbed her back. Giving into that would mean she would be accepting that she needed that level of comfort. This wasn't that time yet.
Danny moved toward the door and hesitated, "If I hear anything, I'll call."
She knew that he was trying to infer that if she heard from him, she'd do the same. At this point though, all she could manage to do was nod. As the door shut she shook her head, a light laugh coming up from somewhere deep. The laugh broke sharply, as she sunk back onto the couch, picking up her phone, trying his number again. If he called Danny, or Mac, before he called her, he'd have some serious explaining to do.
In reality though she knew, if he managed to walk in that door alive, she'd be willing to forget it all, if he needed her to.
They say no news is good news, but Elle had pushed past that aspect of her day. Fred hadn't eaten anything out of his bowl, and she could honestly admit that it was most likely because she hadn't eaten either. The knot in her stomach far too tense to allow her to want to eat anything, let alone manage to do so. Every time she shifted on the couch, Fred's little head would lift off of his front paws to see if she was going to move. He'd been her watcher now, and she was grateful for his constant nudges at her feet.
He hadn't come home the night before, and now it was morning and she assumed he'd just clean up at work and head onto the scene. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before. Granted, a Knicks game always made more sense for crashing on Danny's couch and being a guy with the guys, more than this had become. It hadn't been something she could just forget about. She couldn't notice the mornings he slept in later, didn't have time to shave, barely made it out the door on time. She couldn't just ignore the silence from his side of the bed, or the distance she felt.
Some days were better than others, and other days were worse than they had been in a while. Trying to keep up some sort of semblance of normalcy was what she strived for, but most of the time she felt she was barely able to deal with her own monsters. The darkness that she knew she had in her, was a far cry from the sort of girl that should be with one of New York's finest.
He hadn't called though, and what made it worse was that other people were calling. Danny and Mac both tried to reach him, and that meant the no news she had, was not good news at all. It also meant there was nothing she could do. Part of her wanted to call Molly. To use whatever resources she could get her hands on to find him, but the thought quickly slipped away as Danny came to the house to check in on her. She knew the truth though, and as soon as she let him in she handed over his service revolver.
"He didn't take it with him," Elle quickly defended him. It was easy, and it was simple to do. Danny just nodded and placed a hand to her shoulder trying to give her some level of comfort. Fred was mostly happy to smell another dog on Danny's jeans. Her hands went to the back pockets of her jeans, watching Danny move through the apartment, sifting through things, trying to see if there was something that she didn't notice. If he had found anything, even something small she would hate herself for not knowing the man she had been living with well enough. Elle knew he still had his ankle holster, but there was something more automatic about that, versus his revolver. Maybe she'd regret it, but she was keeping that to herself. Swallowing hard, she heard Danny finish up in the den and return to trying to comfort her.
"Hey, look, this sort'a thing happens. He's got to blow off some steam, sort things out a bit, maybe. This'll be done soon and you'll hear from him."
It was a small comfort, only smaller because Elle knew how bad things could actually get. She knew that things could shift suddenly, that one minute you could have a partner in crime, and the next he'd be pinning you to the sand trying to slice your head open. Nodding, Elle remained silent, as Danny gave her a hug. Her hands stayed wrapped around herself, even as he rubbed her back. Giving into that would mean she would be accepting that she needed that level of comfort. This wasn't that time yet.
Danny moved toward the door and hesitated, "If I hear anything, I'll call."
She knew that he was trying to infer that if she heard from him, she'd do the same. At this point though, all she could manage to do was nod. As the door shut she shook her head, a light laugh coming up from somewhere deep. The laugh broke sharply, as she sunk back onto the couch, picking up her phone, trying his number again. If he called Danny, or Mac, before he called her, he'd have some serious explaining to do.
In reality though she knew, if he managed to walk in that door alive, she'd be willing to forget it all, if he needed her to.