Is It A Dream?

Ashamed

It was 10:30 at night as Linda slipped into bed. She, Danny, Baez, and Mac had gotten nowhere with the voice recognition. They had hit a dead end, again, and she blamed herself. She closed her eyes, wishing more than anything she was in her husband's embrace. He had said, 'I wanna talk to you when I get home, okay?'; it was so soft and gentle, so why was she scared? Why was she crying in the dark room?
"Linda?" Danny walked into the room and sat on the bed, "can I talk to you for a second?"
"Can I- can I have a- a minute?" Linda barely managed to say without the painful sob stuck in her throat coming out. 
"Of course." He stood up and walked to the bathroom, continuing his nightly routine. He was about to exit when something caught his eye. He picked it up, and his heart sunk; next to the hamper, hidden by the small stool, was a knife. It had blood on it, and it took all of Danny's will power not to slam the knife on the counter and yell at his wife. After the shooting, he learned that yelling only served to shut her down. He calmly walked back to the bedroom, and sat on the bed. Looking at the knife, he wondered, "are you even taking your pills?"
Linda sat up and looked at her lap. She was ashamed, guilt-ridden, and sorrowful. The tears rolled down her cheeks as the silence hung in the air like a bad smell.
"Why aren't you taking them?"
"I don't know."
"I don't know isn't an answer, sweetheart."
Linda grimaced, he only called her 'sweetheart' when he was disappointed in her. And that meant she was going to hear a lecture, there would be yelling, and she'd be exactly where she was when they started- having a mental breakdown. "They weren't helping, so... I stopped taking them."
Danny wanted to say 'you of all people should know medicine takes time', but he knew that would shut her down. "You should be taking them."
"I know." Why wouldn't he look at her?
"You need to take them."
Linda was quiet for what seemed like forever. Finally, she voiced her feelings, "I don't trust myself."
Danny looked behind him, seeing his wife's head hung in shame. "You don't trust yourself?"
"No... I know me. I was.... I'm scared I'm gonna take too many, and it'll be too late this time."
"Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"You would've yelled. You would've said I was stupid and should know better. You would've said that as a nurse, I shouldn't be worried about OD-ing."
Danny nodded, swinging his legs on the bed and scooting towards his wife. "I'll dispense them for you, okay? And I'll keep the bottles somewhere that's safe."
Linda nodded, sniffling. She was so disappointed in herself, so angry her brain wasn't logical like it used to be.
Danny showed her the knife, "why'd you do it?"
"I don't know."
"Linda, talk to me." He gently commanded.
She looked to the ceiling, tears rolling down her face and neck. She balled her hands, tightening them, her nails digging in. She bit her lip when Danny kissed her shoulder. "I felt so good, y'know, after last night, and then having sex again... It felt really great, like the sun was still shining above me. Then you went to work, and I took another shower...."
Danny's lips found Linda's jawline, "it's okay, take your time."
"And when I was all cleaned, it was like I washed off the pleasure, that good feeling. And... and I didn't know what to do. So I spited... spote?"
"Spited," the detective nodded, his hand gently rubbing her shoulder.
"I spited myself... I cut my ankle.... and I regretted it as soon as I did it... but I did it. And I'm sorry!" Linda hid her face in her hands as the tears, mumbling apologies.
"Hey, hey. Don't cry." He pulled her into a hug, "Soon you'll get better."
"Don't leave me!" She murmured into his neck.
"Linda, twenty-Some years of marriage, and have I ever left you?"
"Yes."
Yes? That shocked him, almost as if someone punched him in the gut, knocking the wind from him. "When?"
"When y-you wan-ted to see a p-patient, a-and I s-said no. The g-guy died, and-and y-you wa-walked o-out on m-me."
"I didn't leave leave, I just... left." Danny shrugged, feeling a twinge of guilt.
"I didn't know where you were going, a-and y-you just up and left, in the middle of an argument... that's leaving."
Danny sighed, "I know... I was wrong."
Linda sniffed, smiling a little. "Well, duh!"
Danny closed his eyes and smiled, leaning his head on hers. "Feel better?"
"Not really... I still feel guilty."
"Why don't you just lie down? Try to sleep."
"Will you lay with me?"
"I will lay with you in a field of stone if you wanted me to."
"I love you, Danny." She kissed him, feeling the warmth bubble inside her.
"I love you, Linda." He kissed her forehead- something she had come to love- and cupped her cheek. "Tomorrow will be a better day."