↞ Chapter Twelve ↠

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Season Six, Episode Eight


It had been four hours since Jameson had dropped me off, and I felt as though I couldn't breath.

I wasn't bothered by my current predicament, sifting through old case files and filling out the paperwork that Danny always forgets to fill out at the end of his shift. It didn't get more consistent then this.

I wasn't even bother when officers came in with a man shouting profanities in tow and saying he'd kill ever cop in the room.

I wasn't bother when Danny set a cup of coffee on my desk in front of me a bit to hard, the action making me jump more than it should have. Or when he did the same thing with a bagel an hour later.

It wasn't until the TV starting blaring news about Thomas Wilder did I find myself suddenly incapable of drawing breath. I had been desensitizing myself from the name and the face, and while therapy was three times a week, and we'd just let Jameson start joining this week. But since it had been nearly two months, every news outlet had decided to bring up the man in response to the fact that he had not reappeared and hadn't been caught.

Danny looked at me what felt like almost instantly, but I couldn't concentrate on time.

My mind was reeling, the voice of the news reporter echoed with the words of Thomas Wilder, my breath caught in my throat. Danny stepped around the table, his voice falling onto muffled ears as I tried to breath.

Danny couldn't believe that this was happening again.

He didn't even notice how much the news reporters words had an affect on his future brother in law until minutes after the report had ended. Jett's head had sunk to sit on the desk, his shoulders lifting slightly with every hurried breath. Danny hurried around the desk cluster, reaching for Jett without thinking it through. The bang of the taller man's knees hitting the underside of the desk caught the attention of most of the people in the room.

I couldn't feel the pain of my knees hitting the desk, or even the eyes of those watching me panic. Danny was trying to speak to me, to grab me by the arm and pull me from the room. I kept pulling away, his voice kept pushing at my ears. Danny shouted for someone to 'turn the damn TV off.' Someone must have complied because the news broadcast stopped, and his voice was gone from my mind.

It was as if everything clicked, my breathing came easier, and Danny's hand wasn't threatening anymore. It was a comfort to be touched by him, and I welcomed the interaction. He pulled me from me desk, and my head wasn't fully there until the cold air hit me.

"Fuck." I said it without thinking my words threw, falling from my feet to my knees. Danny followed me down, his hand on my shoulder and the softest smile on his face.

"Breathe kid."

I complied, taking three deep breaths before moving to sit back on my butt. "I'm sorry." It felt necessary to apologize.

"Don't kid. You're alright." Danny put his hand on the ground beside him, joining me and crossing his legs. "I didn't think that a news reporter could do that to you."

The sigh that left me mouth could have sounded like a laugh. "I'm working on it."

Silence fell between the pair of us. Danny's eyes didn't leave my face, but I didn't focus on him. Instead, I took deep breaths, waiting for them to stop shuddering out. Danny took a minute to speak again.

"Come on." He stands, holding a hand out to me. I looked up at him curiously, reaching for his hand with a shaking one of my own. "I'm taking you home."

I shook my head aggressively, pulling my hand back to my chest. "I don't want to be alone there."

"Not your home, my home J."

I felt stupid for not realizing what he meant.

I let him help me from the floor, sighing all the while and feeling strange as he had to basically help me. My head was still reeling, and when he handed me my backpack I held it tightly in my arms, taking a deep breath and burying my face in the top of the backpack.

Jameson had been the one to remind me to bring it, as it was almost certain that I'd want to change out of my button down and slacks.

I frowned when Danny pulled onto the bridge. His house wasn't to far now, but I couldn't seem  to wrap my head around where exactly I was.

It was a blur when he pulled up to the house, and when the boys came running out they both had smiles on their faces. I didn't remember opening the door, but I could remember the pair of them hugging me, grounding me to the current situation. I wrapped my arms around the pair of them, pressing a kiss to the top of their heads.

I could see Danny muttering something to Linda, and despite my attempts to listen in, my mind wouldn't comply.

"Will you help me with my project Uncle Jett?" Sean's voice was light as he spoke, and I just nodded, looking down at him and motioning for him to lead the way.

I didn't protest as the boy took my hand and lead me inside, his brother following steps behind. There was something off about the air, but I didn't question it, taking instead to speaking in soft words to both Sean and Jack. Helping the former with his project as I glanced at the recipes and ingredients scattered across the kitchen counter tops.

It would be a welcomed distraction.

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