safe inside, criminal minds [ 1 ]

009. downfall

tw: domestic abuse

"I just don't get why you have to go." Brady whines. "You were supposed to watch football with me today."

"She was my friend." Danielle states, frowning at him. "I have to go to my friend's funeral."

"Why? It's not like you worked with her." Brady says.

"That doesn't mean I didn't love her or anything. I still knew her, hung out with her sometimes. I care about her." Danielle says.

"You mean, cared." Brady points. Danielle quietly sighs, rolling her lips into her mouth.

"Yeah. Cared." She quietly says.

"Whatever. Just bring dinner home." Brady says, walking out of the room.

Danielle sighs as she looks in the mirror, staring at the bruise on her eye. She looks down, putting her necklace on while she walks to the bathroom.

+++

Danielle gets to the funeral, making sure her clothes or makeup covered any bruises.

"Hey." She weakly smiles when she walks up to Spencer.

"Hi." He mumbles.

Danielle pulls him into a hug, wincing when he tightly hugs her, pressing on a bruise that's on her back. She hides any sign of pain when they pull away, offering him a weak smile.

"How you holding up?" She asks, knowing this is hitting him much harder than it is her. Spencer only shrugs.

+++

Danielle gets home with take out after Emily's funeral.

"There." She puts it on the coffee table in front of Brady. He immediately digs in while Danielle starts putting the dishes up. She grabs a glass, flinching when Brady yells at the TV. The glass slips from her hand and shatters to the floor.

Danielle freezes, looking up as Brady storms over.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Brady shouts making her flinch.

"I didn't-- it-it was an accident." She stammers.

"A fucking accident?!" He backhands her, Danielle crashing into the fridge. She groans as he tightly wraps his hand around her throat, cutting her air supply off. Danielle struggles against him, attempting to push him off, but to no avail.

"What fucking idiot breaks a damn dish?" He hisses in her face. He slams her against the wall, the back of her head bouncing off of it. "You know what dumb bitches don't get? Food. Clean this shit up." He shoves her back, Danielle choking on a sob.

Brady goes back over to the couch and sits down, continuing to eat and watch TV. Danielle shakes in her spot before eventually getting enough nerve to kneel down and start picking up the glass. She grabs the broom and dust pan, sweeping everything up.

After Danielle finishes, she walks over to the couch.

"Now-- now what?" She asks, too nervous to do anything else.

Brady looks at her, a small smirk appearing for a moment at her stained makeup from crying.

Brady gets up and slowly goes over to her. He grabs her hands in a gentle grip, Danielle not able to help it as she tenses up. Brady's thumbs softly stroke the back of her hands and he kisses her on the forehead.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just-- I'm so stressed. I mean, getting used to all this FBI shit and-- and the pigs I golf with, how they're always saying gross shit about women. I'm sorry. It's just a lot to deal with." Brady says.