Title: A Man in Crisis
Author: stellaluna_
Rating: R
Pairing: Mac/Danny
Summary: It's time for a little truth-telling. Danny/Mac. Set approximately two years in the future, with spoilers for "Run Silent, Run Deep".
Disclaimer: None of these are mine. Characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS, and Alliance Atlantis.
Notes: Thanks to scarletts_awry for talking me down. gin200168 suggested a line of dialogue. For coclaim100 (Prompt 025: Truth), and for fanfic100 (Prompt 074: Dark).

***

Mac is still awake when Danny lets himself into the apartment, and he lies there listening to him move around the living room. He hadn't been sure if Danny would come over tonight or just go crash at his own place, but he hadn't been able to get to sleep either way.

After a minute or two, Danny comes into the bedroom and starts to undress without turning on the light. "Danny," Mac says in a low voice.

"Yeah. Hey," Danny says. Mac can't tell anything from the neutral tone of his voice. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," Mac says. "You can turn on the light if you need it."

"I'm fine." Danny doesn't say anything else, just goes on undressing. Mac wishes that he would turn on the light so that he could see his face, but he doesn't mention this.

Danny crawls into bed and then lies there on the far side of the mattress. Mac reaches out in the dark and touches his back. It's stiff beneath his fingers, the muscles knotted and tense, and Danny doesn't move, doesn't react at all.

"How did it go?" Mac asks.

"Same as always," Danny says. "You expect anything different?"

"I suppose not."

"It was an improvement over last time, though," Danny says. "At least this time he didn't start cursing me out so loud the guards had to come drag him away."

Mac rubs his shoulder blade in a slow circle. Danny doesn't relax into it, but he doesn't pull away, either. "Maybe that's progress."

"Yeah." Danny lets out a little sound that's not quite a laugh. "This time we just sat and stared at each other through the glass. We got through a whole fifteen minutes of bullshit conversation before Louie asked to be taken back."

"You'll talk more one day," Mac says, wondering if it's true. "In time."

"Assuming I keep going." Danny is silent for a minute. When he goes on, his voice is deep and nearly choked with bitterness. "I fucking hate it. The second I walk in there, it's like I'm going to prison myself. I hear the door close, that big heavy door, and my throat just closes up like I can't even breathe anymore. I want to run like hell before someone decides to lock me up, too. I sign in with the guards and I show them my ID, right, and I get afraid every time they're just gonna decide to keep it, keep me there instead of buzzing me out again."

"Louie's the one who's locked up," Mac says. "Not you."

"You think I don't know that?" Danny says. "Yeah, I got that part, but I...I take the train up, and it goes along the Hudson for part of the way. It's so fucking gorgeous this time of year. I keep thinking of those painters. That guy, Thomas, what is it?"

"Thomas Cole. The Hudson River School."

"Yeah. And it's so beautiful, so peaceful, and I'm just sick to my stomach the whole way. I keep thinking it's a trap. It's a fucking trap, don't trust it." Danny sighs. "I don't know what I'm saying. It sucked, big fucking surprise."

Mac presses his fingers harder into the unyielding muscles, trying to relieve some of the tension. "I'm sorry," he says.

"Why?" Danny says in a flat voice.

"I just..." Mac pauses. "I know how hard it is for you."

Danny gives another of those not-quite laughs. "No, you don't."

"I do. I -- "

"No, you don't," Danny says, pulling away from Mac's hand. "How could you, you don't have a brother."

Mac stares at Danny in the dark. "Maybe I -- "

"Or maybe you do," Danny goes on. "Hell if I know, you never tell me a goddamn thing about your family. For all I know, you got a whole pack of brothers and sisters, and you're a fucking triplet or some damn thing."

Mac collects himself before he answers. Danny's had a difficult day, he thinks. This has nothing to do with him, not really. "Danny, if I've offended you -- "

"Oh, shut up with that," Danny says. "It's not about offense, Jesus. Leave me alone, okay? It's been a long fucking day and I just want to sleep."

Danny is breathing hard now, in agitated gasps, and Mac lies still, biting his lip. He doesn't try to touch Danny again, doesn't dare reach out. He thinks of the sleepless night that's probably ahead of both of them now, how they'll lie here in charged silence unless he tells Danny to just go home, or Danny decides that on his own. Or unless he can bring himself to say something.

"I don't," he says at last.

"Don't what?"

"Have a brother. Or a sister. I'm an only child." And my father is dead. He doesn't add this last part; a lot of people are dead.

And I wouldn't know how to start telling you about what it was like where I grew up. He doesn't say this, either.

Danny rolls over onto his back and sighs again. This time it sounds resigned. "Yeah, why doesn't that surprise me?" he says.

"I thought you knew."

"How would I?" Danny asks. His voice is tight with anger, and right now Mac is glad it's too dark to see his face. "I'm not a fucking mind reader, and it's not like you ever talk about it."

"It didn't occur to me that you'd be interested." Mac is aware even as he says it that this isn't the whole truth.

"Just seems wrong, you know?" Danny says. "I sleep with someone I'm -- with someone on a fairly regular basis, whatever, I should know a little more about them than name, rank, and serial number."

Mac considers this, and then, before he can think better of it, decides to tell Danny the truth. The darkness lets him say it. "You probably know more about me than just about anyone else except Stella."

Danny is silent for a long time, so long that Mac begins to think that he's overstepped the boundaries of this ill-defined thing between them, or that Danny has fallen asleep after all, even though his breathing hasn't changed. Mac counts his own heartbeats, waiting.

"Louie is Louie," Danny says at last. "It never fucking changes. I'll be sixty, and if he's not locked up again, I'll still be spending most of the year wondering where he is and what the hell he's getting himself into. And then he'll call and I'll want to hang up as soon as I hear his voice, because him calling will just mean he's in some kind of trouble again and I'll have to go try to bail him out."

Danny raises his hands and presses them to his face. Mac can see that much, even in the dark. "Or he'll want to make nice," Danny goes on, "and I'll go even though I know better, and it'll be the same old bullshit."

"You think it's not going to change," Mac says.

"I know it's not going to. Pattern's too fixed." Danny lowers his hands. "That's assuming he's even still alive when I'm sixty."

"He cares about you." Mac knows this is inadequate, but he needs to say it, needs to give Danny what little he can.

"He's got a funny way of showing it," Danny says. "It's been, what, three years now since all that Tanglewood shit went down? What he did for me hasn't changed a damn thing. And it doesn't make up for those fifteen years he lied to me. If that's love..."

Danny's voice trails off. When he speaks again, he sounds beyond weary, like the words themselves have drained him of the last of his vitality. "Hell, I still don't even know who he really is."

Mac takes a deep breath. "Danny, if -- "

"Look." Danny turns toward him abruptly, reaches out and grabs the front of his t-shirt. "I told you before, I don't want to talk."

"What do you call this, then?" Mac asks. He puts a hand out, meaning to take him by the arm, to push him away. His fingers find Danny's waist, instead, and he presses his thumb into the bare skin.

"Hell if I know," Danny says. "Either shut up and let me sleep, or find something better to do with your mouth if you want to keep running it." His grip tightens on the t-shirt.

Mac kisses Danny then. He kisses him because he wants to, and because it's the only thing he can do. Danny's mouth is hot and demanding against his, breath already spiraling into a moan as he presses into him. It's the only thing Danny will accept, and maybe the only thing Mac will allow himself to give away.

He kisses Danny, and even though he knows that it can never fix anything, it's good enough. It has to be.

He knows that much.

***

Next story in series - A Novena to St. Jude.