Martin got in and began to put on his seatbelt. "Hank seems like a nice guy."
Danny secured his seatbelt. "The guy was practically all over you. God only knows what he would have done if it had taken me longer to get here."
Danny knew that he'd said the wrong thing because there was a sudden freeze coming from the other side of the car. He didn't need to turn his head to know that Martin was glaring at him. He knew that he should just shut up and not say anything else, but there were times when Danny's self-censor just shut off, and this was obviously one of those times. "I don't know what the Hell you were thinking, Martin. Jack and I have both gone blue in the face trying to convince you that it's just not safe for you to go jogging alone when you're out of town, but you do it anyway. And you never take your gun, and very rarely your cell phone. What would you have done if someone had tried to mug you?"
"Well, given your current opinion of me, I guess I'd offer up my body and see if I got any takers," Martin snapped back.
Danny glanced over at Martin, taking in the rigid way that Martin held his body and knew that he'd really hurt the guy before. He had to find someway to remedy that, or else the flight back home was going to be Hell. "I don't have a bad opinion of you, Fitzie."
"No? Then why did you say that about Hank? The man saw that I was having trouble breathing and he gave me a safe place to sit and get my breath back, and he gave me water. At no point did he ever suggest that I pay for that with sex. You know, just because your mind seems to live in the gutter, it doesn't mean that everyone else thinks that way."
"My mind isn't always in the gutter, Martin. But, I'm not blind. I saw the way he was looking at you, and the way he was flirting. If you'd have given him any encouragement at all, then he'd have…" Danny let his sentence trail off as he began a three-point turn so they could head back to the hotel.
"So what? It's not your business, Danny. You made it pretty clear earlier that you're not interested in me, so you can just keep your nose out of my sex life. As long as I'm not with you, then it doesn't matter who I'm with."
"It matters, Martin. I'm your friend, and this whole thing you've got going on of going off with strangers has me worried for you."
"Jeez, Danny, you make it sound like that's something I do on a nightly basis!" Danny heard Martin chuff in annoyance. "Look. The thing with Chris was different. The times when I do go to the Falcon and hook up with someone, we stay there. I don't go off with strangers."
"You went off with Larabee."
"And I said that he was different. I knew that I could trust him, and he didn't betray that trust, either. You know, if not for someone grabbing him and Chris becoming a case for us, you'd have never known about any of this. You never worried about my sex life before today, so there's no need for you to worry about it now."
"That's where you're wrong. I've always worried about you," Danny said, and then he felt like kicking himself for revealing that much to Martin. It was hard enough to keep himself from parking the car and pulling Martin into his arms, and it would be ten times harder if Martin knew just how much Danny cared for him. Knowing Martin, he'd push the issue, and argue with Danny's reasoning as to why they couldn't be together. Martin, for all of his now apparent worldliness where sex was concerned, and occasional comments that there was no such thing as true love, still believed in happy endings and that love was what mattered the most, and he would do his best to convince Danny that everything would be all right because he loved him.
"You make it sound as if you really care." Martin's tone was even, and Danny was too busy watching the road to be able to tell from the look on Martin's face just how he meant that.
"I do. Like I said, I'm your friend." Danny hated not telling the whole truth, but this was his chance to keep Martin from finding out his true feelings, and Danny was enough of a coward to take that chance.
"I see. Just a friend."
"Right." Danny turned into the parking lot, and headed for their previous parking spot. It was late enough that it should still be available.
"And since when do friends caress each other and flirt endlessly?"
"Hey, you know me, Fitzie. I flirt with anything that moves," Danny made himself grin as he brought the car to a stop.
"I see. I guess I've just never noticed you flirting with Jack before. Next time it happens, let me know, so I can watch. So, what about the other thing? You know, when you had your hand up under my shirt and then you were stripping it off and kissing me all over? Is that something that friends do, too? Or just something you do with anything that moves?"
Shit. Martin was moving into dangerous territory with those questions, and Danny felt himself panicking over how to respond. The wrong answer and he'd risk losing Martin's friendship, as well as hurting him once more. Danny had never, ever wanted to hurt Martin, and his heart ached over having done so once already, or was it twice? He didn't want to do it again, even inadvertently. The right answer, and Martin would begin to get a glimpse of how Danny really felt, and that calling it friendship just wasn't the right wording at all. Either way, Danny knew he was screwed. Hurt Martin again, and have to live with that, as well as what Vivian just might say once she saw that Martin was hurt. Or let Martin in on the fact that he was in love with him and then have to fend Martin off from then on.
Maybe Danny could explain things now, and Martin would understand his reasoning? Martin had issues with his father, and if he was being reasonable, then he'd understand the issues that Danny had with his own father. The problem was that Danny never talked about his childhood, not to Martin, anyway, so this would all be news to him. The other problem was that one could never tell when Martin was going to be reasonable about something.
Danny turned off the engine and pocketed the key, then took off his seatbelt and turned in the seat so he could look at Martin. Martin was looking out the side window, a sure sign that he was upset, even if his voice had never clued Danny in on that. "My father was a harsh man, Martin. He didn't like his life, and he tended to take that out on us. None of us were safe from his fists when he was drunk, and it seemed that he was drunk all of the time. If he wasn't hitting Mama, then he was hitting Rafi and me. One night, we were out in the car, and he and Mama were arguing, shouting at one another. I couldn't take it any more, and I screamed for them to stop. He turned around, and I could see his arm raising up, and I knew he was going to backhand me. But he never did because he left his lane and hit another car. They were both killed, and Rafi and I ended up in foster care. I made a vow to myself that I'd never be like him, Martin. I would never hurt someone that I loved, or claimed to love. I'd never be a stinking drunk. I broke part of that vow when I started drinking, and every day that I'm sober, I thank God for letting me keep that vow now."
At least he'd told Martin about being an alcoholic, so that wasn't coming as a surprise. Danny shook his head. "When I bit you, I liked it. I liked your gasp of pain, I liked the way you reacted to me doing that. I liked it that I could do that to you. And I can't let those feelings take hold of me, Martin. I can't take the risk of turning into my father."
Martin had turned to look at him, and Danny could see the concern in his eyes. Martin was silent for a bit, and then he nodded. "So you love me, and don't want to hurt me."
Danny nodded and turned his head to look out through the windshield. The lights in the parking lot were working well, and there were a lot more of them than there had been down by the convenience store. Danny could easily see the emotion in Martin's eyes, and it was tearing him up to see the concern and love present there, which made it damn hard to look the guy in the eyes right then. "That's pretty much it, yeah. I can't stand the thought of hurting you, Martin. And I won't take the chance of becoming something…someone, that I hated so much."
"Danny…it's not like that. What your father did, he did in anger and frustration. What you did to me, you did because…"
"Because it gave me pleasure to hurt you, Martin!" Danny shouted, jerking his head back around toward Martin. Martin drew back against the passenger side door, clearly wary now. Danny gave himself a mental kick for losing control like that, but he couldn't risk Martin talking him out of his decision. "Dammitt, Martin, I'm trying to do the right thing here, for the both of us. I refuse to turn into my father, and I refuse to hurt you. And there's no way that I can have sex with you and not risk hurting you. I get too caught up in everything, and then it's happening, and I won't have that. I won't do that to you or to me."
"But it was okay, Danny." Martin was still as far on the other side of the car as a person could get, but his voice sounded sure and firm, and not scared. Danny took some comfort in that small fact. "I liked what you did."
"I know," Danny said, his voice low as he remembered the way Martin had reacted to being bitten. What he had to say now was going to inflict yet another emotional hurt on Martin, but it couldn't be avoided. "And that's another part of the problem. I can't trust that you'd stop me if I went too far with you. You obviously enjoy pain, find it arousing. And yes, I freely admit that it was a big turn on for me when I bit you. But if I crossed that line and did something that would cause you too much pain, I'd need to trust that you'd push me away or something. And I can't trust you to do that. I've seen the marks on your body, the bruises that Larabee left behind." Danny shook his head. "I can't risk that."
An uneasy silence descended inside of the car, and Danny couldn't handle the look that Martin was giving him. It was still that caring, loving look, and Danny had expected anger, or maybe even disgust over Danny's lack of faith in Martin. Seeing love in Martin's eyes still was unexpected, and Danny didn't know how to deal with that. So, he looked away. Maybe it was time to go inside to their room?
"So, even if I promised you that I'd stop you, you wouldn't trust that I'd keep my promise?" Martin asked, breaking the silence.
The uncertainty in Martin's voice cut through Danny, and he wished like Hell that Martin hadn't asked that. "That's right." He forced himself to look back at Martin, and now there was another look in those expressive blue eyes, a look of pain. "I interviewed Ron Bradley, Martin. I heard his description of you and how you were, and no, I don't think that you'd be able to keep that promise. Not that you'd intentionally break it, but that you'd just get so caught up in what was happening that you'd forget to stop me."
"You underestimate my will power," Martin replied. "I've wanted you since the moment I first saw you, and that was before I ever met you." He shook his head. "I can see that there's nothing I can say or do that's going to change your mind, at least not right now. So, I won't even bother. But know this; just because you tell me you love me and want to be with me, that doesn't give you the right to interfere in my life. You don't get to vet my lovers or tricks, and you sure as Hell don't have the right to pass judgment on anything I do. You want to worry, fine. Worry. But I don't want to hear about it."
Martin opened his door and began to get out of the car. Danny wanted to stop him, wanted to try to explain himself again. Hell, he wanted to reassure Martin that he loved him and only wanted the best for him. But a part of him knew that Martin was right. He couldn't just declare his love, back away and then still try to be a part of Martin's life. It wasn't fair to Martin and there was no sense in both of them being miserable. Sighing, Danny got out of the car, locked it and followed Martin into the hotel, wondering if it was possible for them to be as close friends as they were before this weekend.
Martin knew that Danny was behind him, and the part of him that was brought up to be a gentleman thought that maybe he should walk a little slower and let Danny catch up to him so that they could go up to their room together. But the part of him that was hurt and trying to not let it show vetoed that idea. It was his intent to get to the elevator first and hopefully be alone in the car, and not have to deal with Danny again until their room.
Fate, however, wasn't looking out for Martin, not that that was anything new. How a really good week could go to Hell so fast was still beyond his comprehension, and Martin could only hope that his life wouldn't get any worse before making an upward turn. The indicators above the two elevators showed that one elevator was on the 6th floor, and the other on the 9th. If Martin waited, then Danny would catch up to him, and he wasn't ready for that. He went over to the stairwell and headed up to their floor, knowing that walking up four flights of stairs would be easy enough after the run he'd had. If fate decided to be kind, then Danny would wait for an elevator, and not think about taking the stairs.
Once in the room, Martin went to the dresser to grab a T-shirt, so he could change for bed. As soon as he touched it, he let it go, not wanting the reminder of what he'd almost had with Danny. He was far too sober to be able to put that shirt back on without his heart aching. Martin slammed the drawer shut and grabbed his wallet instead, knowing that what he wanted right then was to get so drunk that he couldn't even remember Danny's name, let alone how Danny had made him feel when they were on Danny's bed.
Martin took the time to turn off the television, surprised that Danny had left it on. The guy must have been really worried about him if he'd forgotten to do something so simple. And the knowledge that Danny had been worried because he loved him just made his heart ache even more. He hurried out of the room, and was almost to the elevators when one of them dinged to signal its arrival, and Danny stepped out into the hallway.
They looked at each other for a few moments, and then walked toward each other, both uneasy as they met up a few feet away from the elevators.
"I'm going to the hotel bar," Martin said. "There's no need for you to wait up."
Danny looked as if he was going to argue, but instead he nodded and looked at his watch. "Our flight's at six," Danny reminded him. "And we need to turn the rental back in, so we should try to leave here around 3:30."
Martin nodded. The hotel was just a mile or so from the airport, so it wouldn't take long to get there. The biggest hold-up would be if a lot of people were turning in their rental cars. "I'll be back here before then."
Depending on when the bar closed, Martin could maybe get away with spending most of his night in there, away from Danny and the temptation to do anything and everything he could to make things right between them.
"You're going dressed like that?" Danny asked.
Martin looked down at himself, not seeing anything wrong with his sweatpants and sweatshirt. "Yep. I'm going to get drunk on my ass, Danny, not to pick up someone for the night. There's no need to try to look good if I'm just going to get shit-faced drunk." Martin could feel the disappointment radiating from Danny, and this time he wasn't going to just ignore it. "I know how you feel about it, but after the past twenty-four hours that I've had, if anyone deserved to get that drunk, it's me. And as I pointed out downstairs, you don't have the right to interfere with my life or to judge what I do. All you need to know is that I'll be packed and ready to leave for the airport on time. I suggest you make sure that you do the same."
Without looking to see how Danny took that little declaration, Martin went into the stairwell, too chicken to wait on the elevator with Danny standing right there. He knew that if Danny gave him that imploring look that plainly said that alcohol wouldn't solve anything and wouldn't he much prefer just going on into the room and getting some sleep, then he'd cave in. Five minutes later, he was seated at the bar and starting on his first whiskey for the night. Or fourth, if he wanted to count the ones he'd had back at the saloon. Either way, this time he wasn't going to stop drinking until he either passed out or was shown the door, whichever came first. His heart ached too much for any other alternative to be acceptable. Oh, he knew he'd pay for it come morning and their flight home, but six a.m. was a long way off, and Martin figured that being numb for those hours was well worth the hangover that would come afterward.
Danny watched Martin leave, Hell, running away was more like it. And instead of wanting to stop Martin, Danny found himself wanting to join him. The lure of the numbness that would come with getting a few drinks in him was as enticing as ever before. Maybe even more so under the circumstances. Right then, the only thing holding Danny back was knowing that if he set foot in the hotel bar and ordered a drink then Martin would see him. Danny didn't think that Martin would ask him not to drink, or even tell him not to. No, Martin would do something much more devastating. He'd stand there and look at him, looking guilty as if he was to blame for Danny falling off the wagon and returning to something he'd vowed to never once again do.
Danny quickly retreated to the safety of their room, glad that it didn't have a mini-bar. As soon as the door closed, Danny had his cell phone out and was dialing the number for Adam, his sponsor. As he toed off his shoes and listened to the ringing of Adam's phone, Danny reflected that it had been a while since he'd had to call Adam about wanting a drink. And ironically enough, the last time had also been Martin related. It had been when Victor had loosed an OPR investigation on Jack, and Danny had laid into Martin as if it were all his fault, when he knew that it wasn't. That is, until Martin had shown up at his door later that night, looking exhausted and beaten.
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Danny had just turned off the TV and was headed toward his bedroom when he heard the doorbell, followed by a soft knock. He glanced at his watch, a scowl emerging as he saw that it was almost midnight. Who in their right mind would be at his door this late? Danny went to the door and peered through the eyehole, then shook his head as he saw that it was Martin outside. Only Martin would be that stupid, brave, or desperate enough to show up at his place at this hour.
Danny opened the door, intending to quickly send Martin on his way. It was too late to entertain visitors, and he sure as Hell didn't want to be entertaining Martin, not when it looked as if Daddy dearest was going after Jack's head. But Danny's intention to be rude quickly faded as he got a good look at the younger man. Martin looked worn out, still dressed in what he'd worn to work that day. A closer look though told Danny that he was wrong. Martin didn't just look tired. He looked as if all of his confidence and self-esteem had disappeared, and the look in his eyes as he tried to smile at Danny was enough to break Danny's heart. Martin was hurting big time, and instead of turning the man away, Danny quietly stood aside so that Martin could come on in.
Martin walked in slowly, his shoulders stooped. He stopped just a few feet inside of the apartment and then turned to look at Danny, his eyes bleak.
"You were right. My father is using the OPR to get Jack," Martin shook his head slowly. "But not because of Jack or anything he's done. It's because of me. This is all because of me. Jack's going to lose his job and it's all my fault."
"Whoa. Back up a second, Martin. First off, I was just saying that about your dad to get to you because I was frustrated about the investigation and how things were going with Spaulding's trial. I didn't mean it." Okay, so he meant some of it, he'd been pissed off at Martin for saying that he was partially to blame for the way the Spaulding trial was going, but right then he'd even lie and say he was really Chinese and not Cuban if it would take that look out of Martin's eyes.
"I went to see my father," Martin said, his voice now sounding as tired as he looked, and Danny had the feeling that Martin had driven to D.C. and back, which explained the exhaustion.
"Sit down," Danny said, and he took Martin by the arm and led him to the couch, pushing him down onto the cushions. "So what? A phone call wouldn't have worked?"
"He's been avoiding my calls ever since this OPR thing began," Martin said. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "The Saudi's have been putting pressure on the State Department over the death of Anwar Samir. The State Department, in turn, has been putting pressure on the DoJ to punish the person they feel is mostly to blame for Samir's death, which is me. Dad doesn't like Jack all that much, so it was pretty easy for him to have the OPR be led in Jack's direction and leave me alone. He can't have his good name dragged through the mud, even if I am the one responsible for Samir being dead."
Martin looked up at Danny, his eyes full of despair. "You were right about all of it, Danny. I can get away with doing anything and everything, just because of who my father is. This…being an FBI Agent, was all a big mistake. He tried to tell me that the very first time I told him that I wanted to be an FBI Agent. He, both of my parents, really, had other plans for my life, and being in the Bureau wasn't one of them. Ever since I was accepted, he's done all he can to either pave the way for me and keep me safe, or try to make things uncomfortable enough that I'd quit." Martin looked down at the floor. "Maybe he was right, and I should quit now, before I get another innocent person killed."
Shit, this was bad. They'd had some bad cases, and Martin always took the bad ones hard, even though he tried his best to not let it show. But, Danny could always see when Martin was hurting, no matter how hard the other man tried to pretend that everything was okay, or that yes, it hurt, but not all that much. Danny hadn't been there when Samir had been taken out by the sniper, on Jack's order, no less. But he'd gotten there in time to see how devastated Martin had been because of it. Danny had read over all the reports on the case, and he'd come to the same conclusion that Jack had seemed to reach. Even if they hadn't suspected Samir of being a terrorist, the man's actions would have led to the same fate. Samir hadn't known that they were looking for him, he hadn't known what they had suspected, and he'd still killed his friend, still held Martin and his ex-girlfriend at gun-point. By yelling that there was a bomb in that dormitory, and wildly waving the gun around, Samir had turned himself into a potential danger. If anyone other than Anwar Samir was responsible for his death, Danny would say that it would be Samir's supposed friend, the one who had made the bomb and put it in the dorm in the first place.
The problem as Danny saw it, was that Martin wasn't quite ready to see the truth. He was still blaming himself, and this investigation wasn't doing anything to help Martin finally get that he wasn't the one to blame for Samir being dead. Danny knew that he could talk until he was blue in the face, and right now, it would just go right past Martin. The stubbornness that often helped Martin when it came to a case was working against him as far as the blame game was going, and Danny knew that he wouldn't get past that stubbornness right now. There was, however, another tactic that he could use.
"Farrell never asked me about the Samir case." Danny sat down beside Martin. "He was fishing for things to use against Jack, pure and simple. The State Department and all the rest can believe what they want, but the truth is that Victor's just using this as an excuse to go after Jack. You just happen to be the pawn in this game, Martin, not the catalyst."
Martin turned his head to look at him, and Danny thought he saw a glimmer of hope in the other's eyes. "I wish I could believe that, Danny, I really do. But you weren't there when Dad was telling me about this. And now with the Spaulding trial on top of everything else…everyone in that courtroom thinks that I perjured myself today, Danny. I didn't, but that's only because Jack never told me that Spaulding had asked for a lawyer. And, not that it matters, but if I would have known about that, and that Jack had hid it, then I really would have lied. I was just never given the choice. Jack did the same thing that my Dad keeps doing; making decisions for me because they think that they're protecting me."
Martin smiled slightly, "My Dad was a good Agent, Danny. I grew up watching him do his job, and I saw how he felt when his cases were over. The sense of well being you get when you put the bad guy away, the rush. The certainty that on that night at least, there would be one less criminal out there hurting someone. I wanted to be one of the good guys because my Dad was one of the good guys, and so were the people he worked with. But I also saw the other side. Dad followed the rules, and sometimes those rules meant that the criminals got away. I also noticed that some of Dad's co-workers didn't always follow the rules, and they got the bad guys off the streets. I can remember hearing Dad commenting on that, on how the others had broken the rules, thinking that they could just take the law into their own hands and get away with it. But, I also remember hearing him telling my mother just how relieved he was when some of those bad guys were finally behind bars. He couldn't or wouldn't cross that line, but he didn't necessarily fault those who do."
"And Jack crosses that line," Danny said.
Martin nodded. "Not just Jack. You crossed the line when you went into Spaulding's basement. And I would have willingly crossed the line and lied on the stand if I'd have known that Jack had ignored Spaulding's request." Martin shifted in his seat, "Andy Deaver is alive because Jack ignored that request, and I'd have lied a million times over if it meant saving that kid."
"You care, Martin. And you're a good Agent. You can't let your Dad get to you, not when you make a difference out there. Quitting will be the worst mistake you ever make."
Martin snorted. "Hell, if the State Department has their way, I'll be fired in a few days. Dad wouldn't like that mark against the family name."
"Maybe a black mark or two against the family name is just what your Dad needs so that he can remember that the world is populated by human beings. Sometimes those humans can be monsters in disguise, Martin. And it's up to us to find them and stop them."
Martin smiled, and Danny was pleased to see that it reached Martin's eyes and was genuine, and not pretend. "You might have a point there."
Martin got to his feet. "I'm sorry that I came by so late, but…"
Danny also stood, "Don't worry about it. I was still up."
They headed toward the door. "Just keep one thing in mind about Jack. He won't leave you dangling in the wind, Martin. The same protectiveness that kept him from telling you about Spaulding's request is also going to keep you from going down for perjury. Jack won't let you take the blame for something he did."
Martin nodded. "I know. And that's what makes it so damn hard to have to stand by while he's forced to take the blame for what I did. I can't deny that I deserve to be punished for what I did, Danny, but Jack shouldn't have to pay for that, too."
Danny had tried once more to reassure Martin, but as he shut and locked the door after Martin had left, Danny didn't think that he'd made much progress. If only he'd kept his mouth shut earlier, and not said those things about Victor and Martin getting a free ride. His words had driven Martin to make that trip to D.C., and the result was that Martin seemed to be heading into a depression of sorts. Danny could only hope that things with the OPR investigation would come to a quick closure so that they could all get on with their jobs. He just prayed that Martin would be able to put all this behind him, and that he wouldn't give in to the feelings that were plaguing him and quit just because it seemed to be what Victor Fitzgerald wanted. Danny had the sneaking suspicion that if that ever happened, then it would be the end of Martin.
Danny really needed a drink right then. A couple of them, actually, so that he wouldn't keep seeing that bleak look in Martin's eyes. Danny flopped down on the couch firmly believing that only alcohol could hold back the guilt he was feeling. He reached for the phone, quickly dialing the number for his sponsor. There was no way that he was going to get through the night alone, and come morning, he'd make sure that Martin knew that he wasn't going to have to face any of this alone, either.
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By the time Danny ended the call to his sponsor, it was almost one in the morning. The call had been difficult in that Danny hadn't wanted to mention Martin. While his sponsor knew more about Danny's childhood and life than his own friends did, he did not know how Danny felt about Martin, and Danny wanted to keep it that way. But the talk was still good, and the craving for a stiff drink had faded to the normal dull ache that he dealt with everyday.
Danny went into the bathroom and got ready for bed, and tried to not feel disappointed that Martin wasn't yet back from the bar. Curious as to the bar's hours, Danny found the folder that detailed the hotel amenities. The bar closed at two, which meant that Martin would soon be back. Drunk, but at least he'd be safe in their room and getting some sleep. And then Danny noticed a notation beneath the hours, which stated that on Friday and Saturday nights, the bar was open until three. Danny frowned as he realized that if Martin was still drinking as of closing time, then they'd most likely let him stay until he finished his drink. In that case, Martin could be coming back right about the time that they needed to leave.
Danny threw the folder onto the desk, feeling disgusted with himself for letting Martin go downstairs. He could have stopped him, maybe even just asked him not to go, but he hadn't.
"Good going, Taylor. Just one more example of how capable you are of royally screwing things up." Danny chided himself as he got under the covers. "And talking to yourself? Definitely not a good sign." He shut off the light and settled down against his pillow, hoping that he'd at least get some rest since he wasn't going to be able to sleep.
Part Sixteen