The End of All Things

Summary: Danny learns what it means to really love someone. D/M, post "Endgame".

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Without a Trace. Consequently, I have no money.

Author's note: I wrote this over a year ago, and I never posted it to It seemed like something I should do. Hope it was worth it.

CHARACTER DEATH WARNING

I'd love to walk away

And pull myself out of the rain

But I can't leave without you

I'd love to live without

The constant fear and endless doubt

But I can't live without you

--Evanescence, from the original version of "My Immortal"

Danny's not sure what day it is anymore, but he knows it's been twelve days since he's seen the blue of Martin's eyes. The first three days he was consumed with finding the man who dared to hurt Martin. He had himself convinced that by the time he found Dornvald, Martin would have had all the time he needed to heal and wake up.

Once Dornvald was gone and Danny had a chance to really focus his energy on Martin, things changed. The updates he'd been getting by phone three times a day echoed in his head: "No change, Mr. Taylor. We're going to test/procedure and try medication/stimulation, and see what happens." When he'd come in at night the lights seemed dimmer and he could tell himself that Martin was just sleeping, and lull himself into a slumber by watching the (albeit unnatural) rise and fall of Martin's chest.

Martin isn't sleeping now. Martin is lying on a bed with a tube in his throat; Martin has drains in his chest and stomach because the infection hasn't gone away; Martin is tinged blue because his heart is not pumping blood properly. He's talked to the doctors and rubbed Martin's hands and kissed as close to his mouth as he could get, but it doesn't change the fact that Danny can't make him warm again. He's never felt this helpless, not even with Rafi or the drinking, and this scares him worse than the machines that seem to take up the entire room.

Sam is the one who figures it out in the end, on the fifth day of what Danny likes to think of as Purgatory.

Danny's in the hallway when she comes because the doctors have to run another test: "Mr. Fitzgerald's test/procedure/monitor is indicating failure/difficulty/abnormalities and we want to make sure of blah blah blah"—Danny's heard it all before, just nods and watches them wheel Martin away. She sits next to him and takes his hand.

"How are you?" Her voice is soft and her concern is genuine.

"I'm better than Martin." Danny knows it's the truth, even if it's not what she's looking for. Sam doesn't let on if she's upset, and jumps right to the point.

"Jack thinks you're suffering from a bad bout of guilt, but I'd be willing to bet a year's salary that's not the case. How long have you two been together?" Danny's so surprised by the question that he pulls away and almost falls off his chair.

"Jesus, Sam. What the hell …"

"I know how you look at each other," she says simply, folding her hands in her lap. "That, and Martin and I talk on a pretty regular basis, and he has a terrible poker face." Danny knows what his face must look like, and she takes his stunned silence in stride. "How long?"

"A year and a half." Danny can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. "We didn't want to say anything because … I don't know what he told you, but I didn't think …"

"He never told me he was with you. He just said he was really happy. I was his Tuesday-night drinking buddy. He probably never told you that. He'd take me to bars and try to find me a nice guy, because he found his already." Sam had a slight grin. "So I asked Viv what she thought about you, and how you'd been acting, and she said you were in a fantastically good mood."

"You talked to Viv about this?"

"Well, yeah." She shrugged indifferently. "And for the record, we think it's hot." Danny can feel the redness creeping into his ears, but he can't figure out why because he's never been embarrassed before, even when Martin's doorman caught them necking in the elevator. He guesses it's the knowledge that everyone seems to know about him and Martin, and the fact that Sam's biting her lip like she's going to lose it any second.

"I … well, it's sad that your drinking buddy is a gay man." Sam makes a noise that Danny can't quite place, and they both end up laughing. It's the strangest thing in the world, to be laughing with Sam in the middle of the ICU, but it works better than anything has in days.

"Well, I have to get going—I just wanted to see how he was. Take care of yourself, will you?"

"I'd be fine if Martin would just wake the hell up." The honesty is out of place, but he's sick of lying, and he thinks Sam will understand.

"I know." Sam says quietly as she pulls her purse onto her shoulder. There's an awkward pause, because he can't believe the conversation he just had, but he waves goodbye before waiting for Martin to come back, again.

Danny doesn't really sleep, either. He occasionally drifts off, his fingers barely touching the spot behind Martin's earlobe that he likes to tease when they're about to make love. He dreams of gunfire, squealing tires, and flashing lights; he sees scared eyes widen before closing and feels warm wet blood flow over his hand and all over the street until all he can see is red. He wakes up and grabs Martin's hand (still cold, but there), murmurs, "I love you," and eventually makes the long journey back to Martin's apartment. He tells himself that he does it because it's closer, but everything in the place smells like Martin, which seems so strange because Martin doesn't smell like Martin anymore. Martin smells like antiseptic and stale soap and blood, and Danny sometimes takes one of Martin's shirts with him when he visits just so he doesn't forget how Martin is supposed to be.

It's been twelve days, and the doctors are starting to head in the other direction when he shows up because he knows they have nothing new to say. Victor Fitzgerald and his wife are always there when Danny arrives, and they nod at each other before switching places, like some sort of sick changing of the guard. He'd rather not speak with them, because there isn't really anything to say if Martin isn't going to hear it. He's not going to pull Martin out of the closet, although Danny is pretty sure Victor figured everything out when he saw Danny sobbing in the hallway with his son's blood all over Danny's suit.

Jack comes to visit at the same time everyday. Danny wonders how he's dealing, seeing as his team fell apart in under a day. Jack only asks if there have been any changes, and when Danny shakes his head in the negative, he sighs deeply and pats Martin on the shoulder, asks for a call if there are any changes, and walks back out the door. At first Danny was certain the doctors had given Jack more information than he was receiving, but now he understands the empty feeling he can see on Jack's face. There is no place for rage anymore, since Dornvald is gone, but there's nothing to fill it until Martin comes back.

Vivian ends up coming by, sitting on the other side of Martin's bed. That side has the ventilator and monitors, and Danny doesn't sit there because he feels engulfed by the machines. Viv doesn't care, though—Danny doesn't think anything in the world could faze her.

"I'm glad Marcus let you out for a bit."

"Please. He's in the hallway, and it took me an hour to convince him that it wouldn't hurt for me to sit in a hospital room for a bit. But you know how I get when my mind is set on something."

"Martin would be really pleased to hear that you stopped by. He was so worried about you, he even called his Dad to get …"

"Danny." Her voice is firm and draws him out of the nervous dialogue. "I'm here for you right now. Sam said she's worried. How are you?"

"Viv, I'm fine. I just miss him."

With the downward shift of her eyebrow, Danny finds himself with nothing to say but the truth.

"I'm …" He wasn't sure how to answer the question, because he hadn't thought of himself in so long."I'm getting by, I guess. It's hard. I didn't think anything could be worse than seeing him on the ground by the car, you know? All the blood and stuff." The words are pouring out of his mouth now, even though he's made an honest effort to stop.
"But he's just not getting any better, and he's blue and he's cold and I don't know what to do. I'd watch him forever if they promised me he was going to get better, but no one will tell me what I need to hear." His eyes are brimming with tears now, and Viv is by his side before he knows it, a soothing hand running up and down his back.

"What do you think Martin wants?" Danny fumbles for a tissue on the nightstand so his hands have something to do.

"We never talked about anything like this. I know he has a DNR, but he hasn't coded since his first surgery." The tissue is in pieces now, and she removes it without disrupting the comforting motion of her hand on his back.

"Not that. I mean," she hesitates for the first time, and Danny's scared of what's going to come out of her mouth. "Does Martin know how hard it is for you to see him like this?"

"What, you mean …"

"I mean, when you're sitting beside him, what do you say?"

"I tell him about work. That I love him and I'm waiting for him."

"If it were you, would you hold on just for Martin?"

"I'd do anything for Martin. He's my life, Viv. I don't know what I have without him."

"I think that's why he's like this." Her voice is quiet, and he feels the blood rush to his face in an angry surge.

"What the hell are you getting at?" He lets go of Martin's hand and motions for her to join him in the hallway. Marcus isn't there, but Danny doesn't care at this point. "You think I should have let him bleed to death at the scene? You didn't see his eyes. He was so fucking scared—couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. His blood was all over me and I told him I'd be there for him no matter what, and then he shut his eyes. That's the last time he was awake, and I'm not going to take back that promise. I don't care how hard it is."

"Danny, I …" He doesn't hear the rest of the sentence, because he goes back into Martin's room and shuts the door. Viv doesn't try to come back in, and he spends the rest of the night promising Martin he'll never leave him. It doesn't make a difference, but it's all he has.

Two days later, he's out in the hallway again. He doesn't even listen when the doctor tries to explain what was concerning them enough to run more tests. Martin's parents aren't going to be there for another two hours so he can't do anything but sit and wait, which is why he doesn't run in the other direction when he sees Viv making her way toward him.

"Don't even think about going in there," Viv says, in a tone of voice that is soft to him but would scare the living daylights out of most.

"Wouldn't think of crossing you twice, Vivalina." He tries his best smirk, but she's having none of it.

"I'm going to say something, and you're not going to like it. But I think that Martin loves you so much that he's fighting with everything he has to come back to you, Danny. I think," and her voice cracks ever so slightly, "I think that if you keep telling Martin that you're waiting, he'll keep trying."

Danny understands what she's really saying all at once, and it's almost more than he can bear. "You think I should tell him I don't want him because he'll be a vegetable or something? I don't care how he is, Viv. I don't care if he can't speak or can't walk, or if he can't remember my name. I love him, I love what he was and what he is and what he'll become because they're all Martin."

"I know. But do you think Martin would want to live in a world where he can't remember your name?"

Danny can feel her hand on his back again. "I don't …"

"It's okay. You don't have to know. Just tell him everything you've told me, and let him make up his own mind. Martin deserves that. He's had so many things decided for him."

"Viv, what if …" his brain can't wrap itself around the thought.

"Then I'll be here, and Sam, and Jack. And we'll do what we have to." That doesn't exactly comfort Danny, but for the first time since it happened he doesn't feel completely alone.

"Okay."

"You can call if you need to." He nods and she nods, and all of a sudden they're wheeling Martin toward them. Viv steps over to the gurney and ruffles Martin's hair before whispering something in his ear that Danny can't hear. He doesn't need to, just waves goodbye to her and sits back down. Ten minutes pass before the doctor comes back out, fingers nervously browsing the clipboard.

"Mr. Taylor, we …"

"I know," Danny says, and his voice is stronger than he expects it to be. "I'm going to talk with him." The doctor's eyes widen but he says nothing, and Danny walks into the room before any more words are exchanged.

Martin looks the same as before, and his skin is just as cool. Danny takes a deep breath to steady himself.

"Hey Fitzy." He says softly as he settles into the familiar plastic chair. He takes Martin's hand in his own, while using the other to lightly stroke Martin's hair. "I should be honest with you about what's going on right now." Danny moves his head beside Martin's. He closes his eyes and tries to remember what it felt like to be beside Martin while sleeping, and for a moment it's fifteen days ago, and everything is fine. He shakes the thought out of his head, presses a kiss against Martin's cheek, and tries to find the courage to speak.

"I want you to know that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I hate the nightmares, and I hate coming here and seeing you like this. I hate how the doctors look at you, like you're never going to be Martin Fitzgerald again, like they knew who you were before. I'm so afraid that you're going to die, or that you're going to be like this forever. I will be here no matter what, but this is your choice. You know where you are right now, and I trust that you are going to do the right thing. So …" His voice is breaking along with his heart, but Danny doesn't have the strength to care. "You can let go if you need to."

He stays there without saying another word, until Victor and his wife return. He kisses Martin's cheek without thinking right in front of them, and finds he doesn't care anymore. He heads to the office to do paperwork to clear his head, but ends up sitting at Martin's desk instead of his own. He heads back hours later, and Martin is just as he left him.

He ends up falling asleep in the hospital room, his fingers interlaced with Martin's. He dreams of their trip to the beach; he dreams of the time when, after a particularly bad case, Martin pushed him up against the wall of the interrogation room and told Danny that he loved him in between kisses. He dreams of the way Martin always brushed a kiss against his temple after lovemaking. "I've had my wicked way with you, so take a break, Danny. I'll be here in the morning, you know."

It only takes a second for him to realize that Martin won't be there in the morning anymore, and the thought jolts him awake. He swears he can feel fingers squeezing his own and the faintest touch of something on the side of his head. He has enough time to kiss Martin's temple before the monitor flat lines, and Danny knows that he did the right thing.