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Dani considers herself a pretty strong person. She’s been through a lot and she’s never let anything break her. Her father, her past riddled with drugs and bad choices, she’s made it out in one piece. Bruised and battered for sure, but whole, nonetheless. She knows that she’ll never be free of obstacles, that there will always be something in her way, dragging her through the mud. But that’s all part of it, isn’t it? To get through to the other side stronger than where you started out?
It’s something she decides she wants to believe in because otherwise, what’s the point? Just chaos and destruction and pain? For what?
With her profession, she can’t linger in her emotions or she’ll end up consumed in them. Completely buried under all that dirt, breathing it in, getting it in her eyes and throat and nose. And yet, she keeps stepping forward, no matter what comes her way.
Even when she ends up in a dark, dank basement, bound with zip ties to a rusting pipe.
And the thing is, she makes it out, which is something the girls before her are unable to say. The team finds her, cuts her free, pulls her away from that black hole and puts her back somewhere safe. They catch the perp in the living room above her, sharpening knives that he intended to use on her. It could have been worse.
She could be dead.
Dani knows that and feels caught between so many emotions all at once, some difficult to swallow, some capable of choking her, some easy on her skin like warm water. She’s grateful but haunted, the experience following her around for a week now until she realizes that she’s okay. Nothing bad happened, despite being tied up, despite all the open-ended possibilities. The nightmares slip onto her shoulders and hug her like a wet blanket.
Malcolm worries, which is somehow endearing and frustrating all at the same time. She wants to depend on him, talk to him, things she’s suggested he do with her when he’s caught up in emotions that somehow words can’t quite express. She goes to talk to him, to be honest, but the conversation never comes. It gets stuck behind her teeth. Dani also just wants to bury her emotions inside herself, something deep, plant it and hope it doesn’t sprout roots. She’s so used to going through things on her own, she doesn’t want to rely on someone else.
As selfish as that sounds.
The balance between being true to herself and letting Malcolm in is more difficult than she thought it would be.
--
She hasn’t slept at his place in a while and he’s keeping his distance. It’s hard for her to tell him that she wants space and to be suffocated, all at once. The most time she’s spent with him is at work, the soft down time between cases.
Dani leans back against the rickety green chair that’s behind her desk, stretching her back muscles so they don’t cramp. She then sets her files aside because she needs to take a break before writing up her report, even just a small one, look at the information with fresh eyes a little bit later.
She glances up as Malcolm sets down a cup of tea on her desk, the familiar scent of Earl Grey wafting comfortingly to her nose. She finds herself blinking at it, like something might slither out of the heated liquid, her eyes following the trail of steam to her co-worker. Her friend—her something else.
“Figured this might be the only way you’d talk to me.” Malcolm sticks his hands into his pockets.
Dani attempts not to bristle at that, “Because you always tell me what’s going on in your head, right?” She regrets the words almost as soon as they leave her mouth because it’s brash, too brash, for the gentle support that Bright is trying to offer her.
He’s not forcing anything out of her, not pushing her to talk when she doesn’t want it, he’s just letting her know he’s there. And usually? That would be enough.
Dani feels like a raw nerve lately; exposed, dangerous, and painful. So much has been setting her teeth on edge, no matter how she does her best to ignore it. Gil wants her to take time off, maybe talk to someone professionally about what she went through, but at the end of the day it feels like complaining. Whining. Bearing her soul for what? She was tied to a rusted pole in a dark basement—she wasn’t tortured, raped, killed. The psychological what-if still lingers, of course, but it’s not worse than the alternative.
Work has always helped Dani center herself, and really, this time shouldn’t be any different.
She shakes her head, running her fingers over her forehead before having her eyes meet Malcolm’s calm blue ones, “That—I didn’t mean that.”
There’s a ghost of a smile along Malcolm’s lips as he pulls over a chair. He sits across from her, almost close enough that their knees touch in a soft intimate way that they’re used to being around one another.
“Yes, you did. But you’ve always been brutally honest with me, so what’s being kidnapped really change?”
She envies the easiness in which he thrusts that truth into the universe. Dani accepts what’s happened to her, somehow gaslighting herself into thinking that it’s not a big deal, and yet the words can sit under her tongue like succulents being plated. But she can’t seem to get the phrase out.
“You know that Earl Grey was supposedly named after Charles Grey?” Malcolm says suddenly, tapping his fingers along her desk, “But no one really knows what the connection of the tea is—he often received it as a gift, flavored with bergamot oil. But...the English had to recreate it, so why name it after him?” He rambles slightly as he often does when he’s on a tangent, but it does pull up the corners of her lips.
Which she figures is the point. Bright’s always been very good at reading someone, especially her, sensing how she feels or what she might need. It’s ironic because he’s never been very good at taking care of himself. He barely eats and doesn’t get enough sleep.
But maybe that’s why the compatibility works out so well between them, magnets syncing in tandem, a connection that’s always felt so organic despite moments where communication, honesty or touch has laxed.
Dani takes a slow sip of the tea, her fingers lingering along the warm ceramic and it nearly grounds her right into the spot behind her desk. She didn’t realize how much she needed that until now.
“I just can’t get out of my own head.” She admits suddenly, as if the thought is surprising.
Malcolm reaches his one hand over, settling his fingers against her forearm—it’s not until it stops does she realize her fingers were trembling. The warmth of his palm is consistent and solid, thumb running along the inside of her wrist.
“I know far too much about what that’s like and while distractions feel seem a good idea at the time, they do nothing but that: distract.” Dani’s eyes flutter over the handsome features of his face, the soft lines, the scruff along his jawline, the way his hair is slicked back and the cool, blue shade of his eyes. The suits that he wears always seem to darken the color of the irises.
Dani bites the inside of her cheek because…she doesn’t know what else to do. “Has to better than the alternative.”
“Once you talk about it, then you can move on.” Malcolm says gently and once again, Dani’s knee-jerk reaction to call him out that he’s not the ‘poster child of healthy coping mechanisms’ rears its ugly head. She bites down so hard on the inside of her cheek that she’s pretty sure she draws blood.
“If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it?” And she doesn’t exactly throw that back in his face as harshly as she could have but there is a soft inquiry there, pressing him in the same way he presses her.
“I do,” He says after a moment, “I only do it with you.”
Dani swallows thickly at the sincerity in his voice, the vulnerability. She suddenly feels stripped bare too, embarrassed at her comments in trying to call Malcolm out to deflect the attention off herself. He has been doing his best, with her and only her, because he promised he would. Because they’re constantly in this shade of gray together, this relentless push and pull, this dance that they do.
She closes her eyes a moment, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She feels herself leaning forward, their foreheads pressing together in soft comfort. Malcolm doesn’t move, his thumb tracing circles into her skin as his hand remains on her forearm.
Dani opens her mouth to say something when a pair of footprints approach her desk and JT is clearing his throat. She pulls away but doesn’t open her eyes, listening to him instead, “Sorry to interrupt uh—Gil got a call for consult.”
That means it may or may not be a case, odds are it isn’t but…the concept of being distracted is nice even though they’d be going to a crime scene. When she opens her eyes again to take a look at Malcolm, he seems to be asking her with a tilt of his head, you up for it?
To which she stands from her desk and grabs her coat from the back of the chair, “Let’s go.”
--
Dani’s standing on a river embankment, boots covered in mud, practically slipping into the earth as if hands are reaching up and grabbing her. Forest is in every direction of her, dark green leaves that contrast brightly against the gray sky for the day. She lets out a shallow breath, sticking her hands in her pockets as Malcolm leans over a body found against the shoreline.
The woman’s skin is bloated, somehow pink and sour blue all at the same time. She can’t see her face, it’s pressed into the mud, at least until Edrisa’s one tech person is helping her turn the body over. Dani swallows down a bout of panic that somehow claws up her throat because the woman’s hands are bound.
Her fingers itch to run over the marks left behind on her own wrists from the tight zip tie, plastic digging into her skin to hold her in place. She has to look away.
“Got to be murder, right?” JT asks, interrupting her train of thought—but barely.
She can feel Malcolm’s gaze on her even though she’s not looking in his direction. She’s trying to get her own shit together and concentrate, but her chest feels tight. Like her jacket is buttoned up too much along her neck, choking her, even though Dani knows that’s not the case. She clears her throat and shakes her head.
Bright stops regarding her with his eyes to respond to JT’s question, which, good, because she feels as if she’s ready to crawl out of her own skin as it is.
“Actually, for once I don’t think so.”
“Please tell me that’s a thoughtful tone in your voice and not disappointment.” JT tips his head to the sky, making Bright smile a little guiltily.
“Obviously, I don’t want there to be a murder,” He shakes his head, a soft blush kissing his cheeks that he’ll probably blame on the cold later. “I just like putting my profiling to good use.”
And that’s Bright in a nutshell—if you didn’t know him, you might be offended at the honest reaction, or at least a bit wigged out. Dani just wraps her arms around herself and feels the corners of her mouth lift in a fond smile. Again, a weird interaction at a crime scene that she’s totally used to at this point in their relationship.
“How do you know it’s not murder?” She asks, moving the conversation along. If they’re not needed here, she’d like to get out of the mud and go home.
Bright gives half a sigh and gestures to the body like it might be obvious but then…clearly it isn’t because he clears his throat, “The zip tie.”
Her eyebrows draw together in a little bit of confusion, trying to peel back the layers to see what he sees. Maybe she’s not close enough? But if she takes any more steps forward, she’s going to practically be in the water. That doesn’t seem to bother Edrisa at the slightest because she leans in to hover along the bank and nearly doubles over.
Bright steadies her easily, which just makes her smile and laugh a bit nervously. “Fast hands.”
Malcolm smiles kindly and pulls his touch back when he’s sure she’s secure. Edrisa squints her own gaze at the zip tie before she nods, making a huh noise, “Bright’s right, just at the ends there—” She gestures with her finger.
Putting his own wrists together, he pretends that he’s being zip tied, bringing his hands closer to his mouth. “She put the zip tie on herself and pulled it tight with her teeth, you can see the indentations on the ends. Made it harder to swim or stay afloat.”
“That’ll match dental impressions.”
Malcolm smiles briefly at Edrisa, “Right.” He tilts his head to look at her feet and Edrisa lifts up the fabric of her jeans along her ankles, the same scars pressed into her skin even though the zip tie was gone. Probably lost against rocks or animals or God knows what else,
“She did it to her feet too.”
Dani finds herself staring at the body of the broken woman, limbs twisted, hair matted, skin discolored and puffy—she was probably beautiful alive. She can’t stop drifting over the zip tie, a roar like the sound of the ocean in her ears, heartbeat hammering in her chest—
And suddenly she knows she’s going to be sick, the conversation between Edrisa and Malcolm fading into the background about other injuries and cause of death confirming suicide from weather and water-current patterns. She turns quickly, waving JT off when he asks her something—
She needs to get up and out of the mud and back to her car before she completely loses it. There’s this phantom pain in her jaw and the skin on her wrists suddenly feels raw even though she knows it’s healed. Dani draws a shaky breath into her lungs, running her hands through her hair once she emerges from the forest and pauses by where she’s parked, leaning against the passenger door.
She’s staring a hole into the pavement at her feet, her concentration broken when Malcolm’s shoes slip into her field of vision and she looks up. His expression is calm and open, moving to lean against the car next to her.
“Let me take you home.” He says after a moment and there’s warmth there that translates his words into let me take care of you.
Dani lets out a slow breath, knowing that arguing would be pointless anyways. So she nods and allows him to do just that.
--
Dani holds the door open for Malcolm to her apartment, wandering into the space that always feels so small compared to his own. She knows that’s not exactly fair on her studio, it’s been big enough for her when she’s needed it. She’s also never wanted something bigger, given how expensive places are in New York. Being at Bright’s so often has spoiled her, with the expensive wood, large, beautiful windows, marble countertops—
Malcolm is definitely a tea snob and has very particular taste about paintings and medieval weaponry, but he’s never turned his nose up when it’s come to her living situation. And he never would, he’s not that type of person…and yet when they walk in and the door closes behind them, she suddenly feels a weird sort of self-consciousness flood over her even though he’s been in her place before.
There’s this urge to clean up but nothing is messy.
Dani toes off her shoes by the front door and slides her jacket off her shoulders, allowing Malcolm to take it so he can hang it up in the closet nearby. She feels like she’s operating on auto-pilot, going into her kitchen and opening up a cabinet so she can pull mugs down to make tea. She’s got this insane collection that always makes Bright wrinkle his nose, but she kinda likes that, so she keeps them all instead of trying to ween through a few to get rid of.
“Let me use the one shaped like a gummy bear.” He points to the mug that’s at her left as he leans against her kitchen counter.
Dani smiles a little over her shoulder, “You told me the look of that one gave you nightmares.”
“That would require me to sleep,” He throws back teasingly before smiling, “I’m feeling daring today.”
“Uh-huh.” Is all she says before putting two mugs on the counter—one gummy bear, one space themed one that says out of this world in silver letters. When heat warms up the print, alien heads fade into the lettering.
Malcolm’s quiet for a few moments, moving to where she’s got a small container of tea bags near her fridge and flips through the selection with nimble fingers as if he doesn’t already know what he’s going to choose. She knows him, this is an excuse to think, to consider the words resting directly underneath his tongue.
Dani puts the water on to boil, leaning back against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s your favorite thing to bake?”
Because he does that, occasionally, will come over with muffins or scones or some pie that he just had to make. She knows it’s sometimes because he can’t sleep, keeping his hands busy so they don’t shake, but also because he’s really good at it. Dani can’t bake for shit—the precise measurements and directions always somehow throw her for loops. She’s much more attuned to cooking, where you can season to taste or throw dashes and pinches of stuff together and not ruin anything.
He pulls two mint tea bags from the collection and opens the packets with his teeth, popping them into the mugs. “Apple pie,” He says easily, “Or peanut butter cookies.” He smiles a little, “You want to make something? I got three or four no-bake recipes in my head just waiting to be used.”
Dani smiles, “Of course you do.” She wanders over to her fridge and pulls out a can of whipped cream, pairing it with a package of Oreos she has stuffed into her breadbox. “This might be the best we got.”
Malcolm grabs the Oreos and tugs the plastic back so he can take one out and bite into it, “S’fine because I don’t want you baking anything anyways.”
Dani scoffs in mock offense, elbowing him. He barely flinches, smiling instead as she goes to pour hot water into their mugs when the tea kettle begins to whistle. “I made those banana bars that didn’t turn out so bad.”
Malcolm blinks, “I thought those were lemon bars.” He pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth and to prevent herself from smacking him, she grabs an Oreo too. Point taken.
They take the whipped cream, Oreos, and tea into her living room, settling on the couch. Dani picks her usual corner, rolling her long-sleeved tee up her forearms. She shakes the can of whipped cream and puts a small dollop on one of the Oreos, just managing to eat it without getting a mess everywhere.
She hears Bright’s phone buzz in his pocket and he sets his tea down on the coffee table to look at the text message— “Gil,” He clears his throat, “Edrisa’s working on the autopsy for the Jane Doe from the riverbank but it’s looking more and more like what I thought.”
Dani nods her head gently at the theory of suicide, which, is a terrible thing to hope for when it comes to a finding a body at a scene like that. Though when the alternative is homicide and finding a killer…
She looks down at her hands, her thumb running absently along the inside of her own wrist as she gets lost in a thought. Malcolm’s hand covers one of her own, her gaze moving to meet his as he turns slightly to angle his body towards her.
“Gallagher, the guy who kidnapped you…” He trails off a moment before running his thumb along the skin that sometimes stings to touch even though the marks have faded. “He made you put your own zip tie on, didn’t he?” It’s a question but it doesn’t sound like one, “Made you tighten it with your teeth.”
Dani swallows before nodding slowly, not allowing herself to look away once she’s made eye contact with him. She gave her statement to Gil after being checked out by paramedics…but she had never told anyone that. Of course Malcolm knows, senses it after her behavior at the shoreline today, reading her as easily as a case file, or a broken body that no longer has a voice.
“I thought arresting him would make a difference, putting him away where he can’t hurt anyone anymore.” She lets out a long breath that flutters the hair around her face, “But I still see him when I sleep, feel the heat of his…skin.” She shakes her head, a shuddering working its way down her spine, “The zip ties.”
Malcolm nods and Dani half expects him to give this half-baked speech about trauma, about how it sticks with you or becomes a part of you, something he completely understands and lives with every day. But…he doesn’t.
Actually, he doesn’t say anything at all. He merely picks up her hands and places two long kisses on the inside of her wrists. The gesture alone makes a lump appear in her throat, which she swallows over a few times before she leans herself into him. Bright’s body easily accommodates hers, his arm slipping over her slender shoulders, drawing her close and keeping her there. Her face easily tucks into his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and expensive cologne.
Malcolm tangles his fingers in her hair, turning his head so that his lips brush along her temple.
“Alright,” He interrupts the silence after a few moments, “but did you also know that Earl Grey could have been named after Charles's wife? Apparently there's this variant known as Lady Grey tea which has lemon and orange peels along with the bergamot oil. There are myths about her serving that tea to their visitors at their London home.”
Dani lets out a short and sudden laugh because, no, of course she didn’t know that. But instead of responding, she decides on something better that she can do—she tilts her chin up and kisses him. She can feel the soft hesitation at first before he leans down into it, fingers curling in her hair.
Leave it to Bright to somehow make her feel more grounded by ranting off random commentary about Earl Grey tea.
And nightmares don’t visit her that night.