Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Natalie sat on the sofa, watching Daniel pace. She’d been bothering him for a week now, ever since he’d turned down Kate’s fourth lunch invitation that month. “Daniel, why are you so afraid of this?”

“We’ve had this talk already. Nothing’s changed.”

Natalie raised her eyebrows. “A lot has changed,” she said. “She knows you spent some time at Rexford.”

“No.” Daniel waved his hands. “No! Nothing has changed!”

“What makes you say that?”

Daniel leaned his head against the window. “I see things that don’t exist. I hear voices that aren’t there. I talk to walls.” He stared out the window and, with a resigned sorrow, said, “How can I have an intimate connection with someone when I don’t even know what’s real?”

He turned back to Natalie only to see Kate Moretti standing in the exact spot Natalie had been standing in only seconds before. Kate’s confusion and shock was unmistakable. “Kate,” he said, surprised and hoping he was hallucinating.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He blinked and stammered, and then shouted for Lewicki.

“Yeah, Doc?” Lewicki asked. He glanced to Kate, then to Daniel. “I’m on my way to class.”

Daniel looked sideways at Kate.

“Sorry! Did you need something, Agent Moretti?” Lewicki asked.

“Uh, no,” Kate said, her voice slightly unsteady. “Thanks.”

Lewicki disappeared, and Daniel turned back to the window, running one hand through his hair anxiously.

“What was that about?” Kate asked.

“I, uh—nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “Nothing.” After a moment, Daniel collected himself and turned around. “So, what brings you to the university?”

Kate shook her head. “Oh, well, it’s not—you’re busy; it’s okay.” Kate gave him one of the most pasted-on smiles he’d ever seen and walked out of his office before he could gather his wits to respond.

He stood in stunned silence, alone in his office, until he heard the bell tower chime noon. He gathered up his briefcase and his jacket and walked out of his office. He got on his bicycle and, feeling the need for some space, rode to the engineering quad on the other side of campus.

Kate had known about Daniel’s condition for years now. She knew the symptoms of schizophrenia, but he’d always seemed so... together. Sure, he’d sometimes stare intently at empty space, and his eccentricity had led Probert to nickname him “Dr. Strange”, but aside from his odd, abrupt mannerisms, Kate often forgot that the world wasn’t quite the same in Daniel’s mind. She’d been surprised when he’d confessed to having admitted himself to the psychiatric hospital the year she was in D.C.
She’d come to his office with a case, but the details had fled her mind when she heard him talking. In ten seconds, the image of the eccentric, absent-minded, brilliant professor had shifted dramatically. It was like she’d been looking at the same two-dimensional image for years, and suddenly it had turned to reveal a hidden third dimension. She’d gathered that he was a private person, and he shied away from any sort of intimate moment (like every single time Kate said she cared about him), but Kate had always assumed it was just another of his quirks. She’d never realised his insecurity ran so deep. Do you really think so little of yourself, Daniel? she thought.

And then, of course, Kate had made a complete idiot of herself, leaving him all on his own. He probably thought he’d scared her off for good, that she really did see him differently after all. All she’d needed was a moment to process the intense insecurity she’d witnessed, but then he’d pedalled away on his bike, right past her. He hadn’t heard her yell after him, and on foot, she had no chance of keeping up. She lost track of him after he rounded a classroom building. She visited all of his usual spots as she crossed the university campus, but she couldn’t find him anywhere.

She had to find him, and not just to prove she didn’t see him differently; she did need his help on this case.

Half an hour later, she found Lewicki hurrying out of one of the classroom buildings. “Lewicki!” she called.

“Ah, Agent Moretti, sorry; I’ve got to get back to Dr. Pierce. I forgot I had his lunch, and if he doesn’t eat—”

“He’s not in his office,” Kate said. “I’ve been looking for him for half an hour.”

“But you were—“

“Yeah, uh...” Kate smiled sheepishly. “There was a bit of a, um, a misunderstanding.”

Lewicki looked suspicious, but he didn’t comment. “Did you check—“

“I looked everywhere I could think of,” she said.

“The engineering quad?” Lewicki suggested. “Sometimes he goes over there when he needs more space.”

“That’s a long walk,” Kate said. “I can take his lunch with me if you want.”

Lewicki dug a brown paper sack out of his backpack. “Make sure he eats it,” Lewicki said. “I don’t want to have to deal with him if he doesn’t.”

Kate nodded, smiling. “Of course.” She carried the bag with her across campus to the engineering quad, where she found Daniel sitting on a bench with his headphones and a crossword. She sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He started and looked up. “Lewicki forgot to give you your lunch,” she said when he stopped the tape.

“You didn’t come all the way over here to bring me a sandwich,” Daniel said. He looked at the sandwich, but made no move to take it.

Kate set it down on the bench between them and folded her hands in her lap. “I just wanted to apologize for, uh, for walking in on you like that.”

Daniel shook his head.“There’s nothing for you to apologize for.” Tension radiated from him, and Kate shifted a few inches to give him some space.

“Well, you seemed pretty shaken up.”

“I was surprised,” Daniel said, eyes focused on his crossword.

Kate got the impression he was still feeling whatever he’d been feeling when she’d left his office. “Right,” she said. There was a lengthy silence in which Daniel unwrapped his sandwich and started eating. “I’m not buying it,” Kate said.

“I’m fine, really,” he repeated, pasting on a grin.

“You keep saying that,” Kate said, and when he didn’t seem to give, she pressed her lips together. Pushing him would get her absolutely nowhere, and he was in no condition to help her with her case. Besides, there were other leads. If she really needed his help, well, maybe he’d feel better tomorrow. “I need to get back to work,” she said apologetically. “We’re in the middle of a case. Do you want a ride home?”

“No, thanks.” Daniel gestured to his bicycle. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.” Kate waved a hand, and then pointed at the half-forgotten sandwich as she turned to leave. “Eat,” she instructed. Daniel went back to his lunch and his puzzle, and Kate walked back to her car.

Natalie didn’t say anything as she sat down on the bench next to Daniel. She just gave him one of her over-curious therapist looks.

“Not now,” Daniel muttered, adding more letters to his crossword.

“How much longer are you going to hide?” Natalie asked.

“I’m not hiding,” Daniel said, gesturing vaguely at the surrounding outdoors.

“Daniel,” Natalie said reproachfully.

“What?”

“You’ve been hiding for a while now, and you and I both know it.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Not hiding,” he repeated for good measure.

Natalie put a hand gently on his shoulder. “It’s okay, you know,” she said, her voice softening. “What you’re feeling.”

“No,” Daniel said forcefully. He threw his pen in his bag and chucked the crossword in after it. “It’s not okay!” He got on his bike and pedalled back to his office. In the annoying way of imaginary friends with a point to prove, Natalie was already waiting for him in his office.

“Will you stop?” Daniel exclaimed, dropping his bag in its usual place.

“What makes you think it’s not okay for you to feel the way you do?” Natalie asked, ignoring Daniel’s obvious exasperation.

Daniel checked to make sure no one was within earshot, then closed the door. No sense repeating the morning’s debacle.

“How many times do I have to say it?” Daniel said, throwing his hands up. “I can’t tell imaginary people from real ones. I can’t—I just can’t, Nat...” He slumped into an armchair, and Natalie perched on the arm as Daniel talked. “She said she didn’t see me like I was crazy, and I almost believed her.” He shook his head. “I was stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair to Kate.”

“You didn’t see her face when she left my office. I’m not always good with expressions, but that—that was obvious.” Daniel rubbed his forehead with one hand.

“And what about when she came to find you?” Natalie persisted.

“She apologized,” Daniel said, scoffing. “Like—like she was trying to appease the crazy man.”

“Daniel, be fair,” Natalie scolded.

Daniel refused to admit defeat. It just wasn’t possible that someone could find out about his condition the way Kate had earlier, and still think of him the same. “Well—she didn’t ask for my help on her case!”

“Are you sure you haven’t misunderstood something?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said she apologized. Why?”

Daniel threw his hands up. “I don’t know! She—she said she was sorry for walking in on me.” Daniel silently cursed the stammer that plagued him whenever he got worked up.

Natalie looked at him with her the answer is obvious, isn’t it? expression. “You’re projecting your expectations of other people’s reactions onto Kate. Do you think maybe she was trying to respect your need for some space from the incident?”

“My need for space?” Daniel snorted. “And they say I’m the crazy one.”

Natalie raised her eyebrows. “Who bolted out of his office and biked clear across campus right after this incident?”

Daniel didn’t answer. He knew he’d lost, but his loss wasn’t going to change the fact that Kate Moretti had not brought him another puzzle.

Daniel lay stretched out on the sofa, battling another bout of insomnia. He’d tried to go to bed around eleven, but after an hour of lying wide awake, he was convinced it was totally useless. He’d gotten up and gone to the kitchen for a cup of tea, and Natalie had shown up and stayed until around two. The clock hands were fast approaching three, and still sleep eluded Daniel.

He was about to go upstairs and force himself to lay in bed a while longer when someone knocked on his door. He got up and opened the door as far as the chain would allow.

Kate Moretti stood outside his front door. No, she couldn’t be real. She was a hallucination.

He shut the door. The real Kate Moretti couldn’t really be standing outside his door. Did he dare wake Lewicki at this hour? He ran a hand through his hair, and then the telephone caught his eye. He picked it up and dialled Kate’s cell phone. He tried to ignore the fact that he could hear it ringing.

Kate answered after the third ring. “Daniel, what—” She didn’t sound half-asleep.

“Where are you?” he asked, glancing to the door.

“Standing on your porch wondering why you slammed the door in my face,” Kate said.

Daniel hung up the phone and opened the door. Kate was still standing there, looking for all the world like it was three in the afternoon and not the wee hours of the morning. Daniel wasn’t convinced she wasn’t a hallucination.

“I know it’s late, and I’m sorry, but it’s really urgent.”

Chapter Text

"I know it's late, and I'm sorry, but it's really urgent."

Daniel blinked a few times, and then stood aside to let Kate in. He still wasn't sure she was real, and he was having second thoughts about not waking up Lewicki.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked.

Daniel shook his head. "N-no, I was—I was already up," he stammered. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and gestured vaguely to Kate and the door. "What, uh—"

Kate spoke quickly. "Long story short, we've got a young lady in holding who thinks she's five years old. Eight hours ago, she thought she was forty. Four days before that, she might have killed Ryan Johnson." Even though it was three in the morning, Kate was practically buzzing with energy. Daniel tensed a little, still not convinced that this Kate was totally real.

"Dissociative identity disorder," Daniel said. The real Kate Moretti would have known that much.

Kate nodded. "Yeah, I got that much. Problem is, we don't have enough evidence to convict her. We need a confession, and she won't talk to anyone. She throws a fit every time someone comes near her, and she's been crying on and off for hours now."

"Can't you get an insanity plea?" Daniel asked.

Kate shook her head. "She can't plead insane unless we can convince the D.A. she's our killer."

Daniel blinked and furrowed his brow, then shook his head and waved a hand. "Fine. You want me to go talk to her?"

"Please? You know the human brain better than anyone," Kate said, and Daniel knew she was just stroking his ego, buttering him up so he'd agree to let her drag him to the precinct at some ungodly hour of the night.

Daniel sighed. "Let me get dressed," he said.

"Thanks," Kate said with a smile, and Daniel went upstairs to change. He walked past Lewicki's door and considered waking him up, just to be sure it was really Kate, but decided against it.

"Please help me," said a small voice as Daniel walked into his bedroom. A little girl was huddled on his bed, teddy bear tucked under one arm. Her other hand clutched the covers tightly, and her copper-brown eyes were red-rimmed and wet with tears.

"Oh, great," Daniel muttered as he walked into the closet. Hallucinating children. Not a terribly new thing, but not something he particularly enjoyed. It was much more difficult to be rude to his subconscious when it was conjuring frightened toddlers. He put on jeans and a sweater and went into the bathroom to splash water on his face and brush his teeth, all the while ignoring the little girl on the bed.

When he got back downstairs, Kate was finishing a note for Max. Daniel pulled on his jacket and scarf. He turned back for his briefcase and saw the little girl peeking out from the stairs. She looked so terrified that Daniel paused for a moment, tempted to comfort her right there. He shook himself and turned away. There were no children in his house. Ever.

At the precinct, Kate took Daniel down to Holding. It was deserted save for the night guard and a sobbing girl in a pantsuit that didn't match the way she was huddled in the corner.

"Jade?" Kate called. The girl didn't respond. "Gigi?"

The girl looked up, startled, and then started her wailing afresh. Kate looked to Daniel, who was trying very hard not to turn and run back out the door. The wailing—keening might have been a more accurate term—grated on Daniel's nerves and multiplied in his mind so he could barely think. He clutched his briefcase tightly, closed his eyes, and concentrated on counting to ten.

He only got to five when Kate tugged on his arm and pulled him toward the door. He shrugged away from her and hurried out the door and up the stairs, taking them as fast as he could until the poor girl's keening was muffled by the distance and two sets of heavy doors.

Kate stopped next to him, standing on the other side of the staircase. She watched him with a worried wrinkle in her brow, and Daniel waved a hand dismissively, even as he tried not to hyperventilate.

"Daniel?" she asked quietly, cautiously. "You alright?"

Daniel nodded and continued up the stairs. "Yeah. Fine."

Kate followed him up to the bullpen. The place was deserted save for a couple of agents and detectives ensconced in their cubicles, cramming in last-minute paperwork. Daniel dropped his briefcase at Kate's desk, and Kate shed her coat. Daniel pulled out his headphones for a moment of Mozart to regain his sanity, and Kate disappeared to the break room.

Daniel turned to sit in the vacant chair next to Kate's desk only to find the little imaginary girl staring up at him, silent and wide-eyed with terror. Her arms hung limply at her sides and her face was streaked with tears. Daniel stopped the tape and set his walkman and headphones on the desk. He crouched down in front of her and she started to cry. "Help me," she sobbed. Daniel stared at her, trying to find the clue he knew she held. Her sobs quickly escalated to wails, and Daniel stood up, reaching for his walkman, only to find his fingers sinking into soft fur.

He handed the stuffed bear to the little girl, and she took it just as Kate returned, a mug in each hand. "Daniel?" she asked.

"Kate," he said. "I think I might know how to get through to Jade."

Kate handed him a mug. "Jade or Gigi?" she asked.

Daniel looked into the mug. "No milk, no sugar?"

"Just the way you like it," Kate said with a smile.

"Gigi," Daniel answered, returning to Kate's question. "The only way you might be able to reach Jade is through hypnosis."

Kate frowned. "Well... it's a start. What are you thinking?"

Daniel glanced to the little girl, who was crooning to the teddy bear she cradled in one arm. "Gigi's a little kid," he started. "Now imagine this: you're five years old, and you go to bed in your own bed at home, and then you wake up, and you're in a place you don't recognize. It's dark and there are strangers everywhere. How are you going to react?"

Kate shook her head. "But she was awake the entire time we brought her here."

Daniel shook his head. "You brought a different alter here, remember? The last place Gigi remembers being is at home in bed. Dissociative identity disorder, Kate. Each alter is a completely different person, with a whole different set of memories."

Kate nodded slowly. "Okay, but we can't take her home."

Daniel looked at the little girl. She squeezed the bear in her arms. "You don't have to," Daniel said. "Just bring some of her things here. Bedding, maybe a few of her favorite toys. Just enough that she won't completely freak out."

Kate nodded. "Okay." She set her mug on the desk and shrugged her coat on.

Daniel blinked. "Wait, that's it?"

Kate looked at her watch. "It's four in the morning. We can't call Jade's grandmother for at least another four hours, and I haven't got any other leads."

"But—you didn't have any leads before, either!" Daniel spluttered.

"I'll leave Reardon a note with your suggestions, and tomorrow we'll try to get a confession and an insanity plea." Kate shrugged, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "I thought you might be able to get through to her, if anyone could."

Daniel scoffed. "So you showed up at my house in the middle of the night to—to what? Ask for my help on a case that was pretty much closed?"

Kate flinched a little. "Well, I was going to ask for your help earlier," she retorted, "but Jade hadn't spontaneously changed identities, and you seemed upset." She looked away from him, studying the mug of coffee on the desk.

"Oh, don't give me that crap, Kate."

Kate scowled. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Daniel shook his head and stuffed his walkman into his briefcase. "Forget it."

"No," Kate said firmly. "I'm not going to just forget it! What is your problem, Daniel?"

Daniel balked. She knew he was crazy. She'd seen it, witnessed it firsthand. She even knew he'd been admitted for it. "Uh, Dr. Strange? Crazy? Any of this ringing a bell?"

Kate stared at him for a moment. "Oh," she said quietly. "Oh." She laughed a little, and it sounded nervous. "You don't want anyone else to define you by your—your diagnosis," Kate said accusingly.

Daniel furrowed his brow, gaping at her. He didn't understand what she was trying to imply.

Kate picked up her briefcase. "Come on," she said, as if they hadn't just had a spat in the middle of the precinct. "Lewicki's going to kill me if I don't get you home. You have to teach later."

"Fine," he said, picking up his briefcase and slinging it over his shoulder. If she was going to be tight-lipped, well, two could play at that game.

The car ride back to Daniel's house was tense, and they exchanged glances back and forth constantly. When Kate parked, neither of them made any move to get out of the car. Kate studied her fingers and sighed. "Daniel," she said in that voice she reserved for making him uncomfortable.

"Don't," Daniel interrupted, not wanting to have to suffer another moment-with-a-capital-M when he was this frustrated. "I'm going. I'll see you later." He unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door.

He walked up the walkway, and heard Kate's hurried footsteps behind him. "Daniel, listen to me for thirty seconds, will you?" she snapped.

He turned, bracing himself.

"I care about you, okay?" Kate said, annoyed. "You, Dr. Daniel Pierce, the brilliant professor who teaches at university and lives a pretty damn normal life."

"Normal?" Daniel scoffed.

Kate threw up her hands. "You are impossible, Daniel! Just because you're so hung up on your condition doesn't mean everyone else is." She sighed. "Go get some sleep," she said quietly. "I'll let you know what happens with Jade."

Kate walked back to her car, leaving Daniel standing on his porch in shock.

Chapter Text

Kate walked back to her car, leaving Daniel standing on his porch in shock. When he finally regained his wits, he went inside, dropped his briefcase by the door, shrugged off his coat, and headed to the kitchen for a cup of tea. He put the kettle on and stared at the tea cupboard for a while, his mind still trying to process the events of the last few hours. Finally, he picked out the container of chamomile, filled the tea strainer, and found his Chicago Cubs mug. The kettle whistled, and he turned the burner off.

"You're tense," Natalie said. Daniel started and almost dropped the hot kettle he was holding.

"Do you have to do that?" he asked irritably, dropping the metal strainer into his cup and pouring hot water over it.

"I thought I left so you could sleep," she said. "What happened to that?"

"Kate came over," he told her, dipping the tea strainer to speed up the steeping process. He could feel the crease between his eyebrows deepening, but he couldn't be bothered to wear anything but a scowl.

"She said something," Natalie gathered.

Daniel nodded, pulling the tea strainer out and dropping it in the sink. "I'm not hung up on my condition," he said sullenly. He went into the living room with his cup of tea and sat on the sofa.

Natalie raised an eyebrow and sat down at the other end of the couch. "Kate's right," she said.

"Oh, please." Daniel rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to baby you, Daniel," Natalie said matter-of-factly. "You don't want anyone to see you in light of your condition, but you constantly use your condition as an excuse to distance yourself from other people."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I can just forget that not everything I see is real," Daniel said defensively, gesturing to Natalie.

Natalie raised her eyebrows. "You're missing the point again," she said reproachfully.

"Please, enlighten me," Daniel said, looking away from her and sipping at his tea.

Natalie laughed. "You are impossible! Did you listen to Kate at all?"

"Of course I did!"

"You heard what she said, but you didn't listen," Natalie said. She stood off the couch. "Get some sleep," she instructed. "And maybe tomorrow you'll find it in you to apologize to Kate."

"Apologize?" Daniel balked. "What did I do?"

"Goodnight, Daniel," Natalie called. Daniel heard the door shut—a testament to the skill of his imbalanced brain, that he even hallucinated the sound of a closing door—and sat on the sofa a while, no longer really interested in his cup of tea.

You didn't listen.

"Yes, I did," he muttered. He went upstairs, changed into sweats, and laid in bed, but sleep was still elusive.

Daniel dismissed his students, and the moment they were all gone, packed up his things and headed out the door. He nearly ran Kate over in his hurry to get out of the classroom.

Kate dodged the collision expertly and fell into step with him. "Daniel, whoa. Hi."

"How's Jade?" he asked brusquely.

"She's fine. Some evidence cropped up—enough to convict her without a confession—but Reardon's insisting she be admitted to a psychiatric hospital instead of serving a sentence."

"Good," he said quickly, a little surprised that the stone-cold Irene Reardon actually had a heart. "I, uh, I've got to—"

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Kate interrupted, studying his face properly for the first time.

"I'm fine," Daniel answered quickly.

"Sounds like a 'no' to me," Kate said. "I'm sorry I kept you up. I don't really know what I was thinking... I was just so startled by Jade that—"

"Kate." Daniel held up a hand.

She stopped.

He waved his hand. "I'm fine. It's insomnia. I would have been awake anyway."

"Still, all that excitement probably didn't help. Maybe I can make it up to you?"

"There's nothing to make up. There's nothing to apologize for." Daniel said, feeling increasingly irritable.

"I'm trying to help, Daniel," Kate bristled. They stopped walking, and Kate wheeled on Daniel.

Daniel held his briefcase tightly. "I don't need help, Kate. I'm fine," he said tersely.

"No, you don't want help," Kate argued. "I was going to offer you a ride home, but clearly you're too self-sufficient, so I'll just go back to work." She turned on her heel and strode away.

Daniel stared after her as she left. Part of his mind was urging him to go after her and apologize for being a jerk, but he couldn't remember how to make his feet move. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk while students walked around him, staring after Kate.

"You okay, Doc?" Lewicki asked, stopping next to Daniel on his way to class.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine."

"Do you need me to take you home?"

Daniel shook his head. "No, no. Go to class. I'll be fine." He turned and walked toward home.

Daniel kicked off his shoes and fell onto his bed. He didn't bother changing, just collapsed face-first into his pillow and laid there for a while. He was exhausted, but he still couldn't sleep, and it was starting to drive him crazy.

Crazier than usual, anyway, he thought, turning onto his back. He wasn't really surprised to see Natalie standing at the foot of his bed, arms crossed.

"That was some apology," she said sarcastically.

"Not this again," Daniel said, pulling a pillow over his face.

"You're going to drive Kate away if you're not careful," Natalie said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Spare me," Daniel said into the pillow.

Natalie pulled the pillow down and gave Daniel a no-nonsense look. "It's not my job to be nice," she said. "It's my job to help you."

"I don't need any help," Daniel said, hugging the pillow to his chest. "I need sleep."

"Call her," Natalie said. "Apologize."

"I'm not calling her. She's at work."

"Suit yourself," Natalie said, throwing up her hands. "But don't be surprised when Kate stops talking to you." She got up and walked out of Daniel's room.

Daniel stared at the phone on his bedside table. It seemed to creep toward him, until finally he grabbed it and dialed Kate's number. It rang four times and went to Kate's voicemail, and when the beep sounded, Daniel realized he had no idea what to say.

Chapter Text

"You've reached Kate Moretti. I can't answer my phone right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can." The beep sounded, and Daniel realized he didn't know what to say.

He panicked and hung up, then stared at the phone and dialed again. The message played and the beep sounded, and Daniel hesitated for a moment before he started talking. "Ah... it's, uh, it's me. Daniel. Um, I—I've been thinking, and—and I—hah—I haven't been very, um—I've been sort of, ah, grumpy... and... I'm trying to say—well, I, uh, I'm sorry. So... I—you know how to find me. If you want. Or—you don't have to. Uh... okay. Bye." He hung up and laid down on the bed, certain that was the most incoherent message he'd ever left.

He fell asleep worrying that she would never talk to him again.

Kate watched her phone dance on the desk. Daniel's name flashed on the screen, but she didn't answer. What could she say that she hadn't already said? He didn't even bother to leave a voicemail. She went back to her paperwork and had gotten through half a section when her phone rang again. She frowned at it and turned it over, ignoring him. It stopped, and thirty seconds later, it buzzed twice. He'd left a message this time.

Kate sighed and listened to the message. He sounded as if every word were a knife, poised to cut him if he made a wrong move. He'd clearly had trouble leaving that message, but it was an apology, and an apology from Daniel was not to be trivialized.

Still, Kate had no idea what to do. She'd hoped when she'd left that he'd go home and get some rest. He was on edge from going so long without sleep, and she hoped that maybe he'd be more reasonable after he was rested. If he was sleeping, she didn't want to wake him, but if he wasn't—well, she didn't get off work for another couple of hours anyway, and she could check on him then.

The hours crawled by, and the moment she was free to leave, Kate packed up and called Max's cell phone.

"Max Lewicki," he answered.

Kate got in the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. "Max, it's Kate. Are you at home?"

"Yeah, I just got back. Why?"

Kate bit her lip. "Do you know if Daniel's asleep?"

"I don't know. Let me check." There was silence on Max's end as he went to check on Daniel. Kate gnawed the inside of her lip anxiously as she got off the elevator and walked to the parking garage. "He's asleep. Do you want me to wake him up?"

"No, leave him," she said. "Is it okay if I come over? I need to talk to him."

"Sure," Max said. "I've got papers to grade, but I'll leave the front door unlocked for you."

"Thanks," Kate said. She hung up and got in the car, hoping she could get through Daniel's thick skull this time.

"Daniel?"

Kate's voice brought Daniel out of his shallow slumber. His eyes snapped open, and there was Kate, standing in his doorway with a steaming cup of tea. She set the tea on his night table and sat on the edge of the bed. He stared at her, trying to figure out why she'd come over and made him tea, and, more importantly, why she was looking at him like she was, all sad and apologetic and nice.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as he sat up.

"I'm f—" He stopped, struck with the epiphany that 'I'm fine' was very much a cop-out on his part. "I'm alright," he said instead.

"I got your message," she said.

"Oh, you did. I, uh, I'm sorry—it wasn't very well put-together." He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm just glad you're feeling better."

He gave her half a smile. "Yeah. Sorry about—you know—earlier." He shook himself mentally. Now that he'd apologized to her once, he felt like he couldn't stop apologizing.

"Daniel—" Kate stopped short and a set of little wrinkles appeared between her eyebrows. "I think... I think you need to take a break," she said.

Daniel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You're stressed," Kate said. "You haven't been sleeping. I think you need to take a break from case work for a few weeks."

Daniel was hurt, but he wasn't totally surprised. She'd seen him crack, and she'd put on a brave face, but now it was faltering. She was afraid of him, afraid of what would happen if she stayed and he got worse. "Okay," he said.

Kate didn't seem satisfied with his answer. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I'm fine."

Kate pressed her lips into a thin line. Daniel realized what he'd said, but it was too late to take it back. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Daniel. I'm not blind, you know. You've been sleeping less and less the past few weeks, and it shows. You've been irritable, jumpy, anxious—I don't want you to get overwhelmed."

"I'm a big boy," Daniel said defensively. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, but you don't have to," Kate said.

Of course he had to. He'd had to for the last two decades.

You didn't listen, Natalie's voice echoed in his mind.

He heard Kate's voice follow quickly behind. I'm trying to help... I care about you, okay?

He'd had to handle himself for the last two decades, but maybe he didn't have to now. He stared at Kate and he realized that she really did care about him, and not just the parts of him she understood. His stomach turned and he noticed just how close she was, her warm brown eyes locked with his. "Kate..." he said, and his voice was a lot rougher than he'd intended.

He wasn't sure who moved first, but one moment he was transfixed by the woman in front of him, and the next moment they were kissing. He held her close, one hand on her back and the other behind her head. Her hands made their way into his hair, tugging him closer. It was passionate, but not crushing, a thank-you and an expression of relief.

"Daniel," Kate said, her voice barely more than a murmur. Her eyes were fixed on him and her hands rested on his chest.

He brushed his fingers against her cheek. He could feel it, deeper and stronger even than his condition, this feeling for her that was slow and even and so unlike the quick and wild passion of his younger years. It was strange, this deep-seated desire for nothing more than to have her around, to see her every day, to make her a cup of coffee or let her make him a cup of tea.

He suddenly stiffened and pulled away, releasing her from his arms. She wanted him to take a break from case work, and he was afraid now that he wouldn't see her. "I don't—I don't want to stop working w-with you."

Kate brushed his hair back down with her fingers. "You're overworking yourself. I don't want anything to happen to you if I can help it."

"But—"

"But we could go to dinner," she said hopefully.

Daniel's first instinct was to turn her down, but in light of the last five minutes, he gave her a hesitant smile. "Sure."