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frenchy_chicksTitle: Wait For Me
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Don Flack
Summary: Once again, Mac takes off after a suspect and doesn't wait for backup. And Don hates it.
Word count: 843
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters... just the lovely situations I force them into
Author's Note: I've been thinking about this for a while, and finally got a chance to write it. I wasn't sure how to end it, so that part probably isn't the best...
He couldn’t believe his eyes. He was in shock. He didn’t even realize that he was calling out, radioing for backup, and for a bus. He didn’t remember running down the stairs, or dropping to his knees next to Mac, or reaching out with a shaking hand to check for a pulse and letting out a shaky but relieved breath when he felt one.
The EMTs came in just after then, and Don stood back, letting them to their job. And once he was certain that Mac was going to be okay, he threw himself into his own work, focusing on helping the CSIs solve the murder. He was trying not to think about what had happened, trying not to remember how it looked to see Mac fall over the side of the balcony and fall onto grating storeys below. If he kept seeing flashes on Mac’s fall every time he closed his eyes, nobody else noticed… they just saw a focused Don Flack doing his job like always.
By the time everything had finally slowed down, Don had enough time to make his way to Mac’s apartment. He should have known that he wouldn’t have been able to just sit still and shut off… but, who in the NYPD could actually do that?
Letting himself into Mac’s apartment, Don sighed, seeing the older man lying on the couch and watching the news. It looked like he had finally decided to unwind and it made Don happy. Toeing off his shoes, Don padded towards Mac, pulling off his tie and leaving it on the kitchen counter as he walked by. He sat quietly on the coffee table, letting his eyes take in the older man’s form. He couldn’t see the bruises, but he knew they were there, lying purple and angry underneath his clothing.
“What’re you doing?” Mac muttered.
Don smiled and shifted to sit on the couch next to Mac, running his fingers along Mac’s arm. “I wanted to check up on you… how’re you feelin’?”
“I’m sore, but I’m fine.”
“Yer fine… how about a bit of honesty? How’re you really feelin’?”
Mac sighed and looked up at Don. He could see the concern in the younger man’s eyes and he knew he was holding back from snuggling up next to him, if only because he didn’t want to hurt him any more than he already was.
“I could use some more painkillers… I took some this morning and that was it.”
Sighing, Don got up and went into the kitchen, getting Mac his pills and a glass of water. He waited for Mac to sit up as much as he could before passing everything over, watching as Mac swallowed every pill, before taking the glass and putting it on the table.
“You fell a long way, Mac… it was scary, seein’ you like that. I was sure you were dead,” Don smirked, the amusement not quite reaching his eyes.
Mac reached out and ran his hand over Don’s hair, pulling the younger man to him and kissing him softly. “I know. I’m lucky you were there, Don. I don’t know how things would have went if you hadn’t been.”
Don nodded and leaned against Mac as much as he felt he could, taking in a shuddering breath. It had scared him more than he’d let on, and now that he was here with Mac? Now that he could see how stiffly he was moving, how sore he was… it was really starting to hit him.
“Can I do anything?” Don asked.
“You can help me to bed… then you can let me hold you,” Mac murmured, pressing his lips to the side of Don’s head.
Slowly and carefully, they made their way down to Mac’s room, where Don turned down the bed sheets and waited as Mac did his nightly routine. He helped Mac into bed and turned out the lamp on the bedside table before crawling into the bed next to him. He was careful where he put his weight, and settled on laying one arm over Mac’s stomach, his fingers trailing along the exposed skin at the base of Mac’s t-shirt.
“I’m not going to break, you know,” Mac teased.
Don smiled and shifted himself closer to Mac, their noses just centimetres from one another. He felt Mac’s arm snake around him and he sighed happily, kissing him.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered.
“You won’t. I promise.”
Don sighed and moved even closer, his head butting under Mac’s chin. He was still careful, but he was glad to be closer to Mac, to feel his chest rising and falling under him, knowing that, despite everything that had happened, he was still here, breathing, alive.
“Next time… wait for me? No more taking off on your own, Mac. I don’t think I could take it if something… if something happened to you again,” Don breathed, his voice breaking.
He felt Mac kiss his temple, his hand stroking along Don’s spine. “I’ll wait for you. I promise.”
END
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Don Flack
Summary: Once again, Mac takes off after a suspect and doesn't wait for backup. And Don hates it.
Word count: 843
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters... just the lovely situations I force them into
Author's Note: I've been thinking about this for a while, and finally got a chance to write it. I wasn't sure how to end it, so that part probably isn't the best...
He couldn’t believe his eyes. He was in shock. He didn’t even realize that he was calling out, radioing for backup, and for a bus. He didn’t remember running down the stairs, or dropping to his knees next to Mac, or reaching out with a shaking hand to check for a pulse and letting out a shaky but relieved breath when he felt one.
The EMTs came in just after then, and Don stood back, letting them to their job. And once he was certain that Mac was going to be okay, he threw himself into his own work, focusing on helping the CSIs solve the murder. He was trying not to think about what had happened, trying not to remember how it looked to see Mac fall over the side of the balcony and fall onto grating storeys below. If he kept seeing flashes on Mac’s fall every time he closed his eyes, nobody else noticed… they just saw a focused Don Flack doing his job like always.
By the time everything had finally slowed down, Don had enough time to make his way to Mac’s apartment. He should have known that he wouldn’t have been able to just sit still and shut off… but, who in the NYPD could actually do that?
Letting himself into Mac’s apartment, Don sighed, seeing the older man lying on the couch and watching the news. It looked like he had finally decided to unwind and it made Don happy. Toeing off his shoes, Don padded towards Mac, pulling off his tie and leaving it on the kitchen counter as he walked by. He sat quietly on the coffee table, letting his eyes take in the older man’s form. He couldn’t see the bruises, but he knew they were there, lying purple and angry underneath his clothing.
“What’re you doing?” Mac muttered.
Don smiled and shifted to sit on the couch next to Mac, running his fingers along Mac’s arm. “I wanted to check up on you… how’re you feelin’?”
“I’m sore, but I’m fine.”
“Yer fine… how about a bit of honesty? How’re you really feelin’?”
Mac sighed and looked up at Don. He could see the concern in the younger man’s eyes and he knew he was holding back from snuggling up next to him, if only because he didn’t want to hurt him any more than he already was.
“I could use some more painkillers… I took some this morning and that was it.”
Sighing, Don got up and went into the kitchen, getting Mac his pills and a glass of water. He waited for Mac to sit up as much as he could before passing everything over, watching as Mac swallowed every pill, before taking the glass and putting it on the table.
“You fell a long way, Mac… it was scary, seein’ you like that. I was sure you were dead,” Don smirked, the amusement not quite reaching his eyes.
Mac reached out and ran his hand over Don’s hair, pulling the younger man to him and kissing him softly. “I know. I’m lucky you were there, Don. I don’t know how things would have went if you hadn’t been.”
Don nodded and leaned against Mac as much as he felt he could, taking in a shuddering breath. It had scared him more than he’d let on, and now that he was here with Mac? Now that he could see how stiffly he was moving, how sore he was… it was really starting to hit him.
“Can I do anything?” Don asked.
“You can help me to bed… then you can let me hold you,” Mac murmured, pressing his lips to the side of Don’s head.
Slowly and carefully, they made their way down to Mac’s room, where Don turned down the bed sheets and waited as Mac did his nightly routine. He helped Mac into bed and turned out the lamp on the bedside table before crawling into the bed next to him. He was careful where he put his weight, and settled on laying one arm over Mac’s stomach, his fingers trailing along the exposed skin at the base of Mac’s t-shirt.
“I’m not going to break, you know,” Mac teased.
Don smiled and shifted himself closer to Mac, their noses just centimetres from one another. He felt Mac’s arm snake around him and he sighed happily, kissing him.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered.
“You won’t. I promise.”
Don sighed and moved even closer, his head butting under Mac’s chin. He was still careful, but he was glad to be closer to Mac, to feel his chest rising and falling under him, knowing that, despite everything that had happened, he was still here, breathing, alive.
“Next time… wait for me? No more taking off on your own, Mac. I don’t think I could take it if something… if something happened to you again,” Don breathed, his voice breaking.
He felt Mac kiss his temple, his hand stroking along Don’s spine. “I’ll wait for you. I promise.”
END
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