It's good that he can let Steve move without grabbing him back, without feeling the sudden searing need to drag him back close, like he might spontaneously disappear. Relaxing, almost, even as he feels like he's coming down from some dangerously high, fortunately broken fever, leaving his head feeling charred and light and a little shocked, still.
Even though Steve is watching him, like he's trying to translate whatever it is he sees in Danny's face, which could be -- Christ, he doesn't know. Everything. Because thank God for Steve, still here in the shitstorm life keeps throwing them into, still reaching for him and grounding him, again, solid against the shadows that keep slipping through. Against old hurts getting ripped open and laid bare before lawyers, court officials. Against the bad days, fortifying the good ones. The only good thing from this month? Danny's not even sure he'd have survived it at all without Steve. Even his days with Grace get interrupted, are a strain in their own way, which is something he could hate Rachel for, bringing any kind of cloud to that time.
"Okay," he admits, voice scratchy, low, but he sounds more like himself, which is good, because as insane as it is to consider, it's Steve that makes him less crazy as much as more. And how does that make sense? "So I'm a goof."
Not that he thinks he should have, in any way, expected any of this. Not his own reaction, not Steve's words, any of it. Nothing but this bubble inflating inside his chest, aching and precious, which is starting to feel familiar in a way that makes him wonder when it was the first pull started.
A goof. Goofy for his partner, stupid with it, overrun by the kickback of jealousy, like being trampled by a horse, unable to do anything but try to keep it, even when Steve says there was no danger of it going anywhere. It's not like he can talk sense into this feeling, but at least he knows it's there.
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Even though Steve is watching him, like he's trying to translate whatever it is he sees in Danny's face, which could be -- Christ, he doesn't know. Everything. Because thank God for Steve, still here in the shitstorm life keeps throwing them into, still reaching for him and grounding him, again, solid against the shadows that keep slipping through. Against old hurts getting ripped open and laid bare before lawyers, court officials. Against the bad days, fortifying the good ones. The only good thing from this month? Danny's not even sure he'd have survived it at all without Steve. Even his days with Grace get interrupted, are a strain in their own way, which is something he could hate Rachel for, bringing any kind of cloud to that time.
"Okay," he admits, voice scratchy, low, but he sounds more like himself, which is good, because as insane as it is to consider, it's Steve that makes him less crazy as much as more. And how does that make sense? "So I'm a goof."
Not that he thinks he should have, in any way, expected any of this. Not his own reaction, not Steve's words, any of it. Nothing but this bubble inflating inside his chest, aching and precious, which is starting to feel familiar in a way that makes him wonder when it was the first pull started.
A goof. Goofy for his partner, stupid with it, overrun by the kickback of jealousy, like being trampled by a horse, unable to do anything but try to keep it, even when Steve says there was no danger of it going anywhere. It's not like he can talk sense into this feeling, but at least he knows it's there.