You Are On My Mind

You're Gonna Do Something Stupid

Danny watched as Linda angrily cleaned the house. She insisted he sit down and rest his ankle. He had been wrestling a perp when he broke a bone in his ankle. "Are you sure I can't help you, babe? It's not like I'm gonna die if I stand on my foot."
"I told you, I don't need your help," she angrily responded. "You've already done enough," she mumbled, slamming down the stack of magazines.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
"Linda."
"Just.... leave me alone, okay? I gotta clean." She stomped up the stairs, leaving Danny confused. He wasn't sure what he had done to make her so mad.
He trekked up the stairs, finding Linda in Sean's room. He silently watched her clean the shelves, hearing her mumble about how their boy was old enough to do it himself. The detective couldn't argue with that. He only walked up behind her when he heard sniffles. Hugging her from behind and planting a kiss on her cheek, he goaded, "talk to me."
"There's nothing to tell," she violently pushed out of his embrace, walking towards the door.
Danny grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, trapping her in a hug. "Linda, tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing," she hiccuped, her tears coming faster.
"Shh, baby, it's okay," Danny whispered, rubbing her back. "Just calm down." He let her cry through whatever was bothering her, "ready to tell me what's got you so worked up?"
She sniffed, nodding her response.
He picked her up and sat on the bed, her legs in his lap. Kissing her sweetly, he hooked his finger beneath her chin. "What's the problem, baby?"
"I just don't like when you're hurt, that's all," Linda answered quietly, looking down at her lap.
"There's more to it than that."
She closed her eyes, sometimes it was so annoying how well he knew her. Sometimes she was glad he could read her like a book, sometimes she needed the support he readily offered. But other times, she needed him to back up, to let her cry alone. "No..."
"Sweetheart..."
Dammit. When Danny used sweetheart, she knew he wanted answers immediately and she'd be in trouble if she didn't provide those answers. "What if- what if you get really hurt? What if you don't come home? What if you don't make it?"
"Of course I'm gonna come home," Danny frowned; ever since Linda had been shot, she'd been overtly worried about him. It had finally all boiled over when he yelled at her, unknowingly leaving her in tears. He had apologized, telling her that he waste one living in fear, not her. They came to an agreement, saying they wouldn't hide big feelings like that crime each other. Linda was breaking that promise right now.
"You don't know any such thing!"
"You're right, I don't." Danny was glad when she looked up at him. "But I do know that I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Why are you so mad, though?"
"Because you're gonna go out, and you're gonna do something stupid, and you're gonna leave me a widow!" She hid her face in his shoulder, "and I'm such a baby for crying about it!" She cried into his shoulder, clutching his shirt.
Danny held her tightly, kissing her head. He didn't have any words to help his weak argument, because he knew she was right. He was going to go out, and he was going to do something stupid. He let her cry it out again, rubbing her back and kissing her head. "I'm not going anywhere, I swear."