Heartlines
Title: Heartlines
Author: somehowunbroken
Beta: shinysylver
Fandom: H50
Characters: Danny Williams and team
Word Count: 1,054
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for shoot_the_curl round two. My prompt: "Just keep following the heartlines on your hand" -Florence + the Machine, Heartlines
Summary: Danny shakes, after. Post-2x15.
Danny shakes, after.
He notices it when he’s sitting in the armchair in his hotel room, trying to breathe as he looks down at his clasped hands. His hands are shaking and his arms are shaking, and Danny wonders if he’ll shake clean apart, piece by piece.
The thing is, he can remember every detail in perfect clarity. Dave’s body covered in bright red, the anger and loss and devastation he’d felt when he’d called his family. Laura had broken down when he’d said the words, and he aches, aches for Dave’s family and the guys back in Newark and his own lost friendship. He remembers every tiny little fact about the call from Steve, the one where his heart had leapt into his throat, and then the call from Grace’s phone-
He’d been angry and hurting already, but that phone call, hearing Rick’s voice - the feeling ripping through him then had been terror, a fear so complete that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe it in words. He plays the moment over and over in his mind now, hears the way his voice shook, sees his hands grip the steering wheel. The memories fly by faster after that, driving up to the crater, Rick disabling the GPS, talking to Stan. He’s got Stan’s face in his mind, the tiny nod he’d given as Danny had aimed at him, the way he’d gone down, falling, falling, how Stan had looked up at him from the ground when Danny aimed next to his head-
Stan is in surgery now. He’ll need months of physical therapy, but his shoulder will be fine in time. Danny doesn’t want to think about Stan, doesn’t want to think about the look in Rachel’s eyes when the paramedics had loaded him into the ambulance, because anger and betrayal and hatred he could have dealt with, but the overwhelming gratitude that she’d let show instead is something he’s just not prepared to handle.
Danny knows that he’s thinking in circles, purposely avoiding letting his mind settle on the one thing that had scared him more than anything else today, but he can’t go there, can’t think about it while he’s alone and it’s dark, because if he’d made one wrong move, one misstep, Grace would be-
Grace could be-
Danny shivers and takes in a breath, unsurprised when he coughs and chokes on air. His chest is tight and his eyes are burning, and his fingers twitch to his phone. There’s a voicemail from Grace on there that he’s saved for years, his four-year-old daughter’s voice talking about her day and the view out the window and how Grandma is making cookies, and at the end, she says Gracie loves you, Danno. He listens to it on his bad days, after the tough cases, and it makes him feel better.
He’s heard it five times tonight, but it’s not doing the trick.
The knock at the door startles him more than it should, and it takes Danny a few moments to calm himself down enough to open it. Kono is standing in the hallway, and she throws her arms around Danny’s neck and holds on for dear life. He hugs her back, burying his face in her neck.
Lori hobbles into the room after Kono, hanging a little awkwardly near the doorway until Danny manages to break away and turn to her. “Hey,” she says, and her smile is a little wobbly as he gives her a hug that’s much gentler but no less heartfelt.
Steve and Chin turn up within minutes, and Steve has two giant bags of Chinese takeout that he sets on the table and doles out. Nobody argues when he hands Danny the entire container of sesame chicken and a fork, and soon they’re crammed into the living area of Danny’s hotel room, squashed in together as they eat and watch something mindless on television.
Chin starts talking after a while, telling stories about his family, everything from his cousin Leilani setting the drapes on fire when they were kids to his sister’s husband’s first encounter with a luau. It’s easy to listen to Chin, easy to follow the cadence of his voice and the pictures he paints, and Kono’s comments and Lori’s laughter help him stay grounded. Steve sits next to him, pressed right up against him, and every time Danny starts to drift into his what ifs, Steve nudges him or shifts or says something too loudly, and Danny jerks back into the here-and-now.
It had been dark before the team showed up; it’s nearly light by the time Chin helps Lori to Kono’s car. They’re all taking a few days off, and Danny smiles as they wave and leave. He turns to Steve when the sound of Chin’s bike dies away. “Thanks,” he offers.
Steve shrugs and tosses the last paper plate into the garbage. “I know what it’s like to play things over and over in your head, change all the details around.” He glances at Danny’s face quickly, too fast to see much of anything. “It doesn’t do any good to think about what could have been. Actually, it hurts like hell, so I figured, hey, maybe we can get Danny’s mind off of it-”
“Babe-”
“-at least for a little while,” Steve finishes, looking up to Danny’s face again. This time it’s not hard to see what he’s feeling, all of his emotions splashed across his features. Steve half-smiles. “So I called the gang up, and we came over.”
“Steve,” Danny starts, but there’s nowhere to go from there, no way to say thank you or I’m sorry your dad didn’t make it out like Grace did or please, please get it out of my head. “Steve,” he says again, and then Steve is in his space, strong arms wrapped around Danny’s shoulders, rocking back and forth on his feet. Danny grabs two handfuls of Steve’s tee and leans into him, and then he’s breathing, breathing, breathing.
Gracie loves you, Danno, he hears in his head, and he closes his eyes and thinks about tomorrow, about how he and Grace are going to spend the day together doing whatever she wants to do, and how he’ll tell her a hundred times, a thousand times, Danno loves you, baby.
This was originally posted at http://somehowunbroken.dreamwidth.org/170100.html, where it has
comments. Comment here or there.
Author: somehowunbroken
Beta: shinysylver
Fandom: H50
Characters: Danny Williams and team
Word Count: 1,054
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for shoot_the_curl round two. My prompt: "Just keep following the heartlines on your hand" -Florence + the Machine, Heartlines
Summary: Danny shakes, after. Post-2x15.
Danny shakes, after.
He notices it when he’s sitting in the armchair in his hotel room, trying to breathe as he looks down at his clasped hands. His hands are shaking and his arms are shaking, and Danny wonders if he’ll shake clean apart, piece by piece.
The thing is, he can remember every detail in perfect clarity. Dave’s body covered in bright red, the anger and loss and devastation he’d felt when he’d called his family. Laura had broken down when he’d said the words, and he aches, aches for Dave’s family and the guys back in Newark and his own lost friendship. He remembers every tiny little fact about the call from Steve, the one where his heart had leapt into his throat, and then the call from Grace’s phone-
He’d been angry and hurting already, but that phone call, hearing Rick’s voice - the feeling ripping through him then had been terror, a fear so complete that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe it in words. He plays the moment over and over in his mind now, hears the way his voice shook, sees his hands grip the steering wheel. The memories fly by faster after that, driving up to the crater, Rick disabling the GPS, talking to Stan. He’s got Stan’s face in his mind, the tiny nod he’d given as Danny had aimed at him, the way he’d gone down, falling, falling, how Stan had looked up at him from the ground when Danny aimed next to his head-
Stan is in surgery now. He’ll need months of physical therapy, but his shoulder will be fine in time. Danny doesn’t want to think about Stan, doesn’t want to think about the look in Rachel’s eyes when the paramedics had loaded him into the ambulance, because anger and betrayal and hatred he could have dealt with, but the overwhelming gratitude that she’d let show instead is something he’s just not prepared to handle.
Danny knows that he’s thinking in circles, purposely avoiding letting his mind settle on the one thing that had scared him more than anything else today, but he can’t go there, can’t think about it while he’s alone and it’s dark, because if he’d made one wrong move, one misstep, Grace would be-
Grace could be-
Danny shivers and takes in a breath, unsurprised when he coughs and chokes on air. His chest is tight and his eyes are burning, and his fingers twitch to his phone. There’s a voicemail from Grace on there that he’s saved for years, his four-year-old daughter’s voice talking about her day and the view out the window and how Grandma is making cookies, and at the end, she says Gracie loves you, Danno. He listens to it on his bad days, after the tough cases, and it makes him feel better.
He’s heard it five times tonight, but it’s not doing the trick.
The knock at the door startles him more than it should, and it takes Danny a few moments to calm himself down enough to open it. Kono is standing in the hallway, and she throws her arms around Danny’s neck and holds on for dear life. He hugs her back, burying his face in her neck.
Lori hobbles into the room after Kono, hanging a little awkwardly near the doorway until Danny manages to break away and turn to her. “Hey,” she says, and her smile is a little wobbly as he gives her a hug that’s much gentler but no less heartfelt.
Steve and Chin turn up within minutes, and Steve has two giant bags of Chinese takeout that he sets on the table and doles out. Nobody argues when he hands Danny the entire container of sesame chicken and a fork, and soon they’re crammed into the living area of Danny’s hotel room, squashed in together as they eat and watch something mindless on television.
Chin starts talking after a while, telling stories about his family, everything from his cousin Leilani setting the drapes on fire when they were kids to his sister’s husband’s first encounter with a luau. It’s easy to listen to Chin, easy to follow the cadence of his voice and the pictures he paints, and Kono’s comments and Lori’s laughter help him stay grounded. Steve sits next to him, pressed right up against him, and every time Danny starts to drift into his what ifs, Steve nudges him or shifts or says something too loudly, and Danny jerks back into the here-and-now.
It had been dark before the team showed up; it’s nearly light by the time Chin helps Lori to Kono’s car. They’re all taking a few days off, and Danny smiles as they wave and leave. He turns to Steve when the sound of Chin’s bike dies away. “Thanks,” he offers.
Steve shrugs and tosses the last paper plate into the garbage. “I know what it’s like to play things over and over in your head, change all the details around.” He glances at Danny’s face quickly, too fast to see much of anything. “It doesn’t do any good to think about what could have been. Actually, it hurts like hell, so I figured, hey, maybe we can get Danny’s mind off of it-”
“Babe-”
“-at least for a little while,” Steve finishes, looking up to Danny’s face again. This time it’s not hard to see what he’s feeling, all of his emotions splashed across his features. Steve half-smiles. “So I called the gang up, and we came over.”
“Steve,” Danny starts, but there’s nowhere to go from there, no way to say thank you or I’m sorry your dad didn’t make it out like Grace did or please, please get it out of my head. “Steve,” he says again, and then Steve is in his space, strong arms wrapped around Danny’s shoulders, rocking back and forth on his feet. Danny grabs two handfuls of Steve’s tee and leans into him, and then he’s breathing, breathing, breathing.
Gracie loves you, Danno, he hears in his head, and he closes his eyes and thinks about tomorrow, about how he and Grace are going to spend the day together doing whatever she wants to do, and how he’ll tell her a hundred times, a thousand times, Danno loves you, baby.
This was originally posted at http://somehowunbroken.dreamwidth.org/170100.html, where it has
comments. Comment here or there.