I Don't Remember

Eleven

After Linda's tears had stopped, she took a quick nap in Danny's arms. She was so tired these days, and she knew it was because her body was still healing.

"Was it a good nap?"

"Mhmm. But now I don't want to cook dinner.... It's been a stressful week."

"What's been stressful about it?" Danny, personally, had been stressed ever since he got the call about the accident. He was surprised he hadn't exploded yet.

"Just...." She sighed. "Everyone wants to help me, which I very much appreciate, but I'm not an invalid. I can still walk and talk and do a lot of things for myself. I just have to take breathers. But apparently, your family doesn't think that. Jamie keeps texting me, asking if he and Eddie can do something- like shop or drop off a meal. Erin keeps offering to sit with me after she works, and she keeps trying to get Jack and Sean out of the house and do something with Nicky. Henry keeps asking if I want to stay there during the day- like I can really handle those stairs right now. It's.... I love that the family is so loving and caring, but it's truly smothering! If I need help, I'll ask."

Danny rubbed her arm, "I can ask 'em to ease up a little."

"I wouldn't mind it so much, but it's like every two hours!"

He heard the frustrated quaver in her voice, and he really didn't want her to cry again. "I'll talk to them. What else happened?"

"I had two memories this week."

"The bank robbery, I know, you told me. What was the other one?"

"I remembered why I was so upset before the accident and what it was I wanted to talk to you about."

Danny tensed; he knew the reason, and it was still a bitter subject. He hadn't spoken to Eddie since then, and the only reason he saw her was because she was at the Sunday dinner table.

"It was Eddie. I was warning her about her IAB investigation, telling her they're bullies. She said I only knew that because of all the times you've been investigated. But that's because they absolutely hate you for some reason. Anyway, when I was asking away, she grabbed my wrist and called me a bitch. People can't... can't do that. It's too triggering."

He hugged her tighter, "I know it is, and I'm sorry she said and did that.... Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just wish grabbing wasn't people's first response to making me stay. It's..." Linda shuttered, wishing she could put it out of her mind. "I hadnt thought about... him... in years, but thanks to Eddie, he keeps popping up in my memory."

"I'm so sorry, Linda. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

"Erin was catching me up on things, since no one has balls enough to do it. She mentioned Eddie's IAB, and that's when I remembered... Don't be mad at Erin, please? She didn't do anything wrong. It was coincidence I remembered right then; I could've remembered anywhere... she also told me the accident wasn't my fault."

"It wasn't," he agreed. His blood still boiled whenever anyone brought up the accident. It had been six months ago. It was a hit and run. The case was cold. How incompetent did the police department have to be to let something as simple as a hit and run go unsolved for twenty six weeks?

"Do you know who did it?"

He shook his head, "but I'm still looking. I'm not giving up."

Before she could say something in response, Danny's phone rang. "That better not be work."

He looked at the screen: Doc. He'd forgotten about leaving a message the other day. "It's Doc. I should take it."

Linda didn't ask about why Danny was calling Doc. She knew why; it was because of her. He needed to talk to someone to deal with her and her crazy. Danny used to be able to do that by himself, but now he couldn't. He must be tired of her, she reasoned. Tired of her moods, tired of her crying, tired of her.

She stood up and headed to the bedroom, because she didn't want to give Danny the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She closed herself in the bathroom, crying on the tile floor where it was cooler, and somehow more calming than the bed.

********

"Yeah, I can do Friday," Danny said. He had been planning to take Linda out, but he could do that Saturday night. Or even a little later Friday night. The latest he'd be done would probably be seven- he didn't expect he'd need a lot of time with Doc- and then he could go home, change and pick up Linda, and they could be eating by 8:15, which would be plenty of time to be done by 9:00.

"Thanks, Doc, bye." Danny hung up and pocketed his phone. "Linda? Babe, where'd you go?"

He walked into the bedroom, because that seemed like the obvious choice. He became worried as soon as he heard crying. "Linda?"

Danny pushed the bathroom door open, and found Linda crying on the floor. He kneeled in front of her, "honey, what's wrong?"

She said something completely unintelligible- even Danny couldn't understand it.

"What?"

"You're sick of me."

"What? Who said?" He'd kick whoever said that square in the ass.

"You're tired of me. You don't want me anymore!" She pushed herself up.

"What? Linda, that's-"

But he never finished because she stood too fast and fell down, hitting her head on the counter. Now she was crying for a different reason.

He couldn't freak out, "lemme see." Danny moved in front of her, gently moving her hand away from her face. There was blood- because of course she had to hit the edge of the counter- but it didn't look too bad. "I think it'll be okay. Come on. Can you stand?"

She let him help her then lead her to the bed. He brought a washcloth out and pressed it against her forehead, all while she still sobbed.

"You'll be okay. It doesn't look like it broke anything; just the skin tore." He put his hand on her shoulder and held her free hand. "You'll be okay."