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.ficlet: Walking, Wounded - D/M 1.1
Written in about 10 minutes to get this out of my system long enough to concentrate on translation. Hate Friday seminars, because they mess up my weekly night off. *grumble*
Title: Walking, Wounded
By: HF
Email: aesc36 @gmail.com
Pairing: Danny/Martin
Rating/Warnings: PG. Angst.
Disclaimer: Without a Trace belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS, and very likely many other people.
Advertisements: Companion for 4.02 "Safe."
Notes:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lillyjk wrote some marvelous Danny introspection. And this is my crack at Martin.
WALKING, WOUNDED
When the doctor gives him the cane, Martin’s first promise to himself is to stuff the thing into his closet and never look at it again. Because he doesn’t need it, doesn’t want it, this reminder of how he tires so easily, how his heart pounds and his breath comes short and tight in his chest.
By the time he gets home, he’s relieved that his building has an elevator that works and his next-door neighbor has volunteered to go to the store for him.
By the end of the first week he wonders how he ever managed to walk around the corner to the convenience store for Snickers bars whenever he’d felt like it, much less run for miles.
He gives the cane a reprieve. Three weeks, he tells it, and then you’re history.
Sometime between the third and fourth week he realizes that his fingers have made impressions in the foam rubber.
Four days into week five he manages to walk to the store without it.
He does not manage to walk back. Rob, his neighbor, has to come and get him.
At the end of week five, he gets the all-clear from Jack. He can start on desk duty in a week. Desk being the operative word, but Martin’s so relieved that he can be out of his apartment that he doesn’t care if Jack chains him in the file room.
On the ride up to the twelfth floor he has to lean against the elevator wall, and he’s suddenly terrified, because he has his cane and he still has to lean on it, and he moves so slowly, and he has no idea what people will see when they watch him make his slow, painful way down the hall.
Everything’s changed, he realizes. Someone’s messed with his desk and he’ll have to put everything back to The Way It Was, even though he knows that’s impossible.
Viv and Sam are still here, and Jack’s concern still confuses him, and that’s comforting, sort of.
But Danny… Oh, God, Danny.
He wonders if it’s the wound in his chest acting up, or if it’s something else – heart failure, maybe, standing here with Danny, both of them trying to tell the other it’s okay, it’s all okay, when it’s clearly so very not. Because the cut on Danny’s head is gone, but the look on his face is like he’s bleeding – bleeding out fear, desperation, guilt, more that Martin can’t begin to understand and can’t articulate even though he senses the same things in himself, close beneath the surface, a wound ready to break open, and he wishes he could say them but he can't.
Wordless after one last reassurance that goes unheard, he watches Danny go and is grateful for the cane and the wall, the two last things in the world to hold him up.
Title: Walking, Wounded
By: HF
Email: aesc36 @gmail.com
Pairing: Danny/Martin
Rating/Warnings: PG. Angst.
Disclaimer: Without a Trace belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS, and very likely many other people.
Advertisements: Companion for 4.02 "Safe."
Notes:
lillyjk wrote some marvelous Danny introspection. And this is my crack at Martin.WALKING, WOUNDED
When the doctor gives him the cane, Martin’s first promise to himself is to stuff the thing into his closet and never look at it again. Because he doesn’t need it, doesn’t want it, this reminder of how he tires so easily, how his heart pounds and his breath comes short and tight in his chest.
By the time he gets home, he’s relieved that his building has an elevator that works and his next-door neighbor has volunteered to go to the store for him.
By the end of the first week he wonders how he ever managed to walk around the corner to the convenience store for Snickers bars whenever he’d felt like it, much less run for miles.
He gives the cane a reprieve. Three weeks, he tells it, and then you’re history.
Sometime between the third and fourth week he realizes that his fingers have made impressions in the foam rubber.
Four days into week five he manages to walk to the store without it.
He does not manage to walk back. Rob, his neighbor, has to come and get him.
At the end of week five, he gets the all-clear from Jack. He can start on desk duty in a week. Desk being the operative word, but Martin’s so relieved that he can be out of his apartment that he doesn’t care if Jack chains him in the file room.
On the ride up to the twelfth floor he has to lean against the elevator wall, and he’s suddenly terrified, because he has his cane and he still has to lean on it, and he moves so slowly, and he has no idea what people will see when they watch him make his slow, painful way down the hall.
Everything’s changed, he realizes. Someone’s messed with his desk and he’ll have to put everything back to The Way It Was, even though he knows that’s impossible.
Viv and Sam are still here, and Jack’s concern still confuses him, and that’s comforting, sort of.
But Danny… Oh, God, Danny.
He wonders if it’s the wound in his chest acting up, or if it’s something else – heart failure, maybe, standing here with Danny, both of them trying to tell the other it’s okay, it’s all okay, when it’s clearly so very not. Because the cut on Danny’s head is gone, but the look on his face is like he’s bleeding – bleeding out fear, desperation, guilt, more that Martin can’t begin to understand and can’t articulate even though he senses the same things in himself, close beneath the surface, a wound ready to break open, and he wishes he could say them but he can't.
Wordless after one last reassurance that goes unheard, he watches Danny go and is grateful for the cane and the wall, the two last things in the world to hold him up.
no subject
That's what I'm sayin' :) I might as well wallow in it while I can!
But still... *pets Martin and Danny* Poor boys.