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frenchy_chicksTitle: Putting the Past to Rest
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Don Flack
Summary: Don gets a call from his mother and he opens up to Mac about his past
Word count: 2786
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters... just the lovely situations I force them into
Author's Note: I just wanted to say that Don's Aunt Sophia is based on my own aunt... and unfortunately, the situations that I list here, and actual situations that I have gone through. The unfortunate part is that my Aunt is still very much alive and I still very much hide in my closet when she comes over, and I still veyr much have nightmares. Writing this was kind of therapeutic for me because I've decided I'm not going to be quiet about this anymore... if anyone in your life is making you feel this way, or making you feel uncomfortable in any way, please know that it is NOT okay. It is NEVER okay, and it's important to speak up about it.
They had been working on a case together, although Don couldn’t remember the intricacies of who had been murdered or how or where or when. He’d gotten all of that information, of course, and had given it to Mac as soon as the older man had joined them, but then he’d gotten a phone call and it had distracted him.
“Don, are you with me?”
Coming back to where they were, Don looked across at Mac who just came out of the apartment where their murder took place. He didn’t remember leaving the crime scene – not that he completely left, but it was customary for a police officer or someone in don’s position to stay in the crime scene while the CSIs did their thing.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here Mac. Sorry… I just got a call. Personal matter, but it won’t happen again,” Don explained.
He could tell that Mac wasn’t buying it and he put his hand on Don’s arm to guide him away from prying ears. “What is it?” He asked when they were far enough down the hall.
Don looked over at Mac. He wasn’t exactly sure how to explain exactly what was going on in his head, but he knew if anyone would be patient with him while he attempted to share, it would be Mac.
“That was my Ma… she was callin’ ta let me know that my Aunt Sofia passed away,” he said calmly.
“Don… I’m sorry.”
Don shook his head and shrugged his shoulder, “I’m not. That’s probably a horrible thing to say, but it’s true. Our relationship was… troubling, if I’m being honest.”
That characteristic frown was back on Mac’s face and Don couldn’t help but smirk at it. Of course the man would be trying to figure out the meaning behind what he was saying, and for the first time in a very long time, Don found himself wanting to talk about it.
“Why don’t you come over fer a beer after shift and I’ll tell you all about it,” he suggested.
“Okay. Let’s get back to work.” Mac agreed.
***
True to his word, Mac went over to Don’s apartment after their shift had ended. They’d gotten a little closer to solving the murder, and Don was confident that they would have their killer in cuffs and behind bars by the end of the week.
He changed into a pair of jeans and took off his tie and dress shirt, changing into a t-shirt instead before padding barefoot down the hall towards the kitchen and getting a beer for himself and Mac. They sat on the couch, talking with the news on in the background. It was a while before Don had decided to start in on the reason he’d invited Mac over in the first place.
“Before I start to tell you about my aunt, I want you to know that you’re the first person who’s gonna know everything… I tried talking to my Ma about it once and for the most part, she was understanding. But, after a while… I think she thought I was bein’ selfish about the whole thing,” Don said.
“It doesn’t matter what you tell me, Don. I’m not going to judge you or tell you that you’re wrong for feeling the things you do. I would never do that to you.”
Don smiled his thanks and took a swig of beer. He was definitely going to need a little bit of liquid courage to get through this. Putting his beer down on the coffee table, he turned to face Mac, pressing his back against the arm of the couch. Mac turned inwards and if Don hadn’t been ready to go into story-telling mode, the look in Mac’s eyes would have had him swooning right into his arms and kissing the man within an inch of his life.
“My Aunt Sophia was my Granddad’s sister. She never got married, never had any kids of her own and lived about ten minutes away from where we did. She used ta babysit my younger sister an’ me. I c’n remember always spending time with her an’ at one point, Sammy an’ I used ta spend a night a week at her place, just ta give my folks a bit of a break,” he started, giving a bit of background.
“I don’t think I started to notice that things weren’t exactly… normal ‘til I was maybe six? And it started out simple enough… she would always call me baby. Everything was baby this an’ baby that. She never called me Don or Donnie… I mean, my Ma called me Ducky, but not all that time, you know? And then… when I was six, I started to notice things that she would do things with me that she didn’t do with anything else… her house only had one bathroom an’ I c’n remember… you know, if someone was in there, Sammy, or Cassie or whoever… you know, sometimes you just ask ‘hey how long’re you gonna be?’ not because you hafta go urgently or anything, but because, you know, you might need ta go at some point and yer just… you wanna know, right?”
Mac nodded his understanding and motioned for Don to continue. He could feel the blush rising on his cheeks and he briefly wondered if he should be telling Mac this. Would it change the way the older man saw him? He didn’t think so. He didn’t think Mac was that kind of person. Taking in a shuddering breath, Don decided to continue on.
“Anyway… when that would happen, when I’d ask how long whoever was gonna be… I remember she’d always pull out this, this medium brown, oval plastic waste basket with a gold emblem on the front… an’ she’d make me go… go in there. I mean, she had me convinced as a kid that I had issues, you know? That I couldn’t, couldn’t hold it. But I know I could’ve. An’ you know the thing that was the creepiest? I can’t even say fer certain that I remember her ever leavin’ while I… while I did my business. An’ she always insisted on emptying it herself when I was done. And… there were other things. Like, even though my siblings an’ I were all babysat by her, even though we all spent time at her place… she only ever kept spare underwear at her place fer me. Only fer me… which, looking back now, I know that’s fucked up. Seriously, seriously fucked up.”
He focused on taking deep breaths while he let the memories wash over him. It made him feel sick to his stomach. If he’d ever found out someone was doing to any of his nieces and nephews what his aunt had done to him? That person would be skinned alive. He’d never, never let anyone make the people he cared about feel that uncomfortable. He felt Mac reach out and touch his knee and he looked up. Mac didn’t say anything, and he didn’t really need to. His eyes said it all – how sorry he was Don had to go through that, how angry he was that Don was made to go through something so uncomfortable… and how he would be here if he wanted to continue, and if he didn’t, that was okay too.
“That was the first time I… I knew something wasn’t right. I mean, that went on for years, Mac. I must’ve been… eight or nine before I realized that it wasn’t right, before I started tellin’ her that I could wait until the bathroom was free… An’ then there were other things, too. I mean, don’t get me wrong… I don’t think she ever… you know… molested me, but at the same time, she made me feel so uncomfortable. D’you know that once, when I was seven an’ I was watchin’ TV with her… she told me that I could be a foot model ‘cause my feet were so sexy? A seven year old… who says that ta someone who’s their nephew let alone someone who’s seven. It’s inappropriate. Then there’s other things… like I said, Sammy an’ I used to spend one night a week at her place an’ I remember that, any time we spent the night, she would always insist that I take a shower. Regardless as to whether I had taken one the night before at home or not. An’ I was never allowed to lock the door, shower or otherwise. The shower had… glass doors. Not fogged, just, slightly distorted glass. An’ seriously, without fail, she would always have some kind of friggin’ excuse to hafta come in while I was showerin’. Every. Single. Time. An’ as I got older, she would make comments ta me about my body… the way I walked. She said once that I walked in a very provocative manner… dunno what the fuck that was supposed ta mean,” Don muttered.
Leaning over, he grabbed his beer and took another couple of sips. The flush was still on his cheeks, but he was more embarrassed at admitting that these were things that had happened, and not that he was sharing it with Mac.
“She always forced me ta kiss her on the lips… even when I got older an’ I didn’t want to, when I would turn my head, she would… forcibly grab my chin and make me kiss her… an’ it was never like how I would kiss my Ma… never just a quick kiss an’ then done… she’d, she’d… hold it. And it felt wrong. Even the way she hugged me felt wrong… an’ don’t get me wrong, I like huggin’, I do. I’ve always been a cuddly kinda guy,” Don smirked, “but I like knowin’ that I c’n end the hug when I want, you know? She would never let me out of it… she’d hold on ta me way past the point that’s okay… and her hands… her hands would run all over me, all over my back an’ my sides an’ my arms… like it was… sensual or somethin’. And other things… other inappropriate things… like, like walkin’ in on me when I was changin’… most people, if they walked in on someone would have some sorta ‘oh fuck, sorry’ moment an’ leave, right? Not her. Never her. She’d just… just stand there and stare at me… she was always starin’ at me… like she was thinkin’ about things she wanted ta do ta me.”
Don shivered at the memories that came flooding back, remembering his embarrassment at being caught completely in the nude when she walked into his room – didn’t even fucking knock – and stood there and had a full blown conversation with him about how he was doing and what he was doing and how much she loved him… until he’d screamed at her to get the fuck out of his room and he slammed the door on her. Mac’s hand rubbed along his knee, soothing him as best as he could.
“I used ta have nightmares about her, Mac. It’s not… it’s not natural for someone to have nightmares about family members. Okay, maybe like, a random one here an’ there, but like clockwork, I’d have nightmares. An’ it was always the same… she’d be chasin’ after me, tryin’ ta touch me… an’ I’d be strugglin’ ta get away from her, an’ she’d always get me, in the end. She was the reason why I had anxiety attacks as a kid… an’ the older I got, the more I pulled away from her. To the point where, by the time I started on with the NYPD, I didn’t want anything ta do with her. I refused ta spend any time alone with her, because of how… dirty she’d make me feel.”
He’d run out of steam. There were other things that had happened, other ways she made him feel uncomfortable, but he just didn’t have the energy to voice it. He wished more than anything that he could just rest his forehead against Mac’s and transfer all his emotions over to the older man so he could tell exactly how that woman made him feel. But it wasn’t possible.
“When my Granddad died, I was… I was completely devastated. My Granddad was my hero an’ for the last three years of his life, he struggled. He’d had a series of bad strokes an’ it basically left him in a vegetable state… an’ ever since then, I’ve been… angry. ‘Cause my Granddad was the best, Mac. He was the best guy ever, an’ he was caring and selfless an’ yes might not have been completely healthy, but he took care of himself. An’ my aunt? She was always extremely overweight an’ didn’t take care of herself at all an’ ate whatever the hell she wanted and did whatever the hell she wanted an’ she never, not once had ta deal with the shit my Granddad did. And when he’d died and she didn’t? I was angry. I wished she had died instead of him. Every day I wished I could swap their places, just so I could see my Granddad one more time. That’s why, when my Ma called this mornin’ I wasn’t upset. I’m not upset. I don’t care that she’s dead, Mac. I don’t wanna go ta her funeral, I don’t want any part of her. ‘Cause she’s dead, and I’m finally, finally fuckin’ free from her torture,” he whispered.
He felt all the anger, the embarrassment, the humiliation and the anxiety leave his body as he admitted exactly how he felt about the person who unfortunately had been his aunt, and only an aunt by name. It was true what he’d said. He was free. He didn’t have to worry about her staring at him every time they were in the same room together, he didn’t have to worry about her calling him my looove or my daahling as though she was in love with him. He didn’t have to think anymore about how he used to hide in his closet and didn’t leave it until she had left when he was a kid, or about her figuring out where he lived and coming by for a surprise visit. He didn’t have to worry about any of it anymore. And it was so freeing. His family didn’t understand because nobody else experienced the things he had. And although his Ma had been helpful in getting his aunt to stop calling him baby all the God-Damned time, she too had started to say things like ‘but she’s been so good to you’ any time Don said he didn’t want to do whatever for his aunt.
“Don… look at me, please?”
Don looked over at Mac and sighed. Thankfully none of what he’d said seemed to have phased the older man in the slightest, and he was grateful. He was still the same person, after all.
“Thank you for sharing this with me. I know how hard it was for you to do that, and it means a lot that you trust me enough to tell me this. I also wanted to tell you that you have every right to feel the way you do. Every right. Nobody should make you feel like less of a person for not wanting someone as toxic as that in your life. You have integrity and that’s important,” Mac spoke softly.
Don nodded and moved to lean against Mac. Now that he had gotten all of that weight off his chest, he felt like he could relax and do the things he never thought he’d be able to. He’d always thought that his aunt had ruined the possibility of having a serious relationship with anyone. He’d thought he was damaged in some way by the things she had inflicted on him – knowingly too… it wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried to talk to her, tried to give her a chance to change. She just didn’t want to.
“Thanks fer listenin’ Mac. Will you stay, tonight? I don’t wanna be alone… in case the nightmares start back up again,” Don whispered.
Mac smiled and stroked his hand over Don’s hair. His heart ached for the younger man, the fact that he had to go through the things he did, but he was proud of him. It took a lot of courage to stand up for the things you knew were right… he was touched that Don had asked him to stay, and he knew he couldn’t say no. He wouldn’t want to, anyway.
“I’ll stay tonight… and for as long as you want me to,” He promised.
END
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Don Flack
Summary: Don gets a call from his mother and he opens up to Mac about his past
Word count: 2786
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters... just the lovely situations I force them into
Author's Note: I just wanted to say that Don's Aunt Sophia is based on my own aunt... and unfortunately, the situations that I list here, and actual situations that I have gone through. The unfortunate part is that my Aunt is still very much alive and I still very much hide in my closet when she comes over, and I still veyr much have nightmares. Writing this was kind of therapeutic for me because I've decided I'm not going to be quiet about this anymore... if anyone in your life is making you feel this way, or making you feel uncomfortable in any way, please know that it is NOT okay. It is NEVER okay, and it's important to speak up about it.
They had been working on a case together, although Don couldn’t remember the intricacies of who had been murdered or how or where or when. He’d gotten all of that information, of course, and had given it to Mac as soon as the older man had joined them, but then he’d gotten a phone call and it had distracted him.
“Don, are you with me?”
Coming back to where they were, Don looked across at Mac who just came out of the apartment where their murder took place. He didn’t remember leaving the crime scene – not that he completely left, but it was customary for a police officer or someone in don’s position to stay in the crime scene while the CSIs did their thing.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here Mac. Sorry… I just got a call. Personal matter, but it won’t happen again,” Don explained.
He could tell that Mac wasn’t buying it and he put his hand on Don’s arm to guide him away from prying ears. “What is it?” He asked when they were far enough down the hall.
Don looked over at Mac. He wasn’t exactly sure how to explain exactly what was going on in his head, but he knew if anyone would be patient with him while he attempted to share, it would be Mac.
“That was my Ma… she was callin’ ta let me know that my Aunt Sofia passed away,” he said calmly.
“Don… I’m sorry.”
Don shook his head and shrugged his shoulder, “I’m not. That’s probably a horrible thing to say, but it’s true. Our relationship was… troubling, if I’m being honest.”
That characteristic frown was back on Mac’s face and Don couldn’t help but smirk at it. Of course the man would be trying to figure out the meaning behind what he was saying, and for the first time in a very long time, Don found himself wanting to talk about it.
“Why don’t you come over fer a beer after shift and I’ll tell you all about it,” he suggested.
“Okay. Let’s get back to work.” Mac agreed.
***
True to his word, Mac went over to Don’s apartment after their shift had ended. They’d gotten a little closer to solving the murder, and Don was confident that they would have their killer in cuffs and behind bars by the end of the week.
He changed into a pair of jeans and took off his tie and dress shirt, changing into a t-shirt instead before padding barefoot down the hall towards the kitchen and getting a beer for himself and Mac. They sat on the couch, talking with the news on in the background. It was a while before Don had decided to start in on the reason he’d invited Mac over in the first place.
“Before I start to tell you about my aunt, I want you to know that you’re the first person who’s gonna know everything… I tried talking to my Ma about it once and for the most part, she was understanding. But, after a while… I think she thought I was bein’ selfish about the whole thing,” Don said.
“It doesn’t matter what you tell me, Don. I’m not going to judge you or tell you that you’re wrong for feeling the things you do. I would never do that to you.”
Don smiled his thanks and took a swig of beer. He was definitely going to need a little bit of liquid courage to get through this. Putting his beer down on the coffee table, he turned to face Mac, pressing his back against the arm of the couch. Mac turned inwards and if Don hadn’t been ready to go into story-telling mode, the look in Mac’s eyes would have had him swooning right into his arms and kissing the man within an inch of his life.
“My Aunt Sophia was my Granddad’s sister. She never got married, never had any kids of her own and lived about ten minutes away from where we did. She used ta babysit my younger sister an’ me. I c’n remember always spending time with her an’ at one point, Sammy an’ I used ta spend a night a week at her place, just ta give my folks a bit of a break,” he started, giving a bit of background.
“I don’t think I started to notice that things weren’t exactly… normal ‘til I was maybe six? And it started out simple enough… she would always call me baby. Everything was baby this an’ baby that. She never called me Don or Donnie… I mean, my Ma called me Ducky, but not all that time, you know? And then… when I was six, I started to notice things that she would do things with me that she didn’t do with anything else… her house only had one bathroom an’ I c’n remember… you know, if someone was in there, Sammy, or Cassie or whoever… you know, sometimes you just ask ‘hey how long’re you gonna be?’ not because you hafta go urgently or anything, but because, you know, you might need ta go at some point and yer just… you wanna know, right?”
Mac nodded his understanding and motioned for Don to continue. He could feel the blush rising on his cheeks and he briefly wondered if he should be telling Mac this. Would it change the way the older man saw him? He didn’t think so. He didn’t think Mac was that kind of person. Taking in a shuddering breath, Don decided to continue on.
“Anyway… when that would happen, when I’d ask how long whoever was gonna be… I remember she’d always pull out this, this medium brown, oval plastic waste basket with a gold emblem on the front… an’ she’d make me go… go in there. I mean, she had me convinced as a kid that I had issues, you know? That I couldn’t, couldn’t hold it. But I know I could’ve. An’ you know the thing that was the creepiest? I can’t even say fer certain that I remember her ever leavin’ while I… while I did my business. An’ she always insisted on emptying it herself when I was done. And… there were other things. Like, even though my siblings an’ I were all babysat by her, even though we all spent time at her place… she only ever kept spare underwear at her place fer me. Only fer me… which, looking back now, I know that’s fucked up. Seriously, seriously fucked up.”
He focused on taking deep breaths while he let the memories wash over him. It made him feel sick to his stomach. If he’d ever found out someone was doing to any of his nieces and nephews what his aunt had done to him? That person would be skinned alive. He’d never, never let anyone make the people he cared about feel that uncomfortable. He felt Mac reach out and touch his knee and he looked up. Mac didn’t say anything, and he didn’t really need to. His eyes said it all – how sorry he was Don had to go through that, how angry he was that Don was made to go through something so uncomfortable… and how he would be here if he wanted to continue, and if he didn’t, that was okay too.
“That was the first time I… I knew something wasn’t right. I mean, that went on for years, Mac. I must’ve been… eight or nine before I realized that it wasn’t right, before I started tellin’ her that I could wait until the bathroom was free… An’ then there were other things, too. I mean, don’t get me wrong… I don’t think she ever… you know… molested me, but at the same time, she made me feel so uncomfortable. D’you know that once, when I was seven an’ I was watchin’ TV with her… she told me that I could be a foot model ‘cause my feet were so sexy? A seven year old… who says that ta someone who’s their nephew let alone someone who’s seven. It’s inappropriate. Then there’s other things… like I said, Sammy an’ I used to spend one night a week at her place an’ I remember that, any time we spent the night, she would always insist that I take a shower. Regardless as to whether I had taken one the night before at home or not. An’ I was never allowed to lock the door, shower or otherwise. The shower had… glass doors. Not fogged, just, slightly distorted glass. An’ seriously, without fail, she would always have some kind of friggin’ excuse to hafta come in while I was showerin’. Every. Single. Time. An’ as I got older, she would make comments ta me about my body… the way I walked. She said once that I walked in a very provocative manner… dunno what the fuck that was supposed ta mean,” Don muttered.
Leaning over, he grabbed his beer and took another couple of sips. The flush was still on his cheeks, but he was more embarrassed at admitting that these were things that had happened, and not that he was sharing it with Mac.
“She always forced me ta kiss her on the lips… even when I got older an’ I didn’t want to, when I would turn my head, she would… forcibly grab my chin and make me kiss her… an’ it was never like how I would kiss my Ma… never just a quick kiss an’ then done… she’d, she’d… hold it. And it felt wrong. Even the way she hugged me felt wrong… an’ don’t get me wrong, I like huggin’, I do. I’ve always been a cuddly kinda guy,” Don smirked, “but I like knowin’ that I c’n end the hug when I want, you know? She would never let me out of it… she’d hold on ta me way past the point that’s okay… and her hands… her hands would run all over me, all over my back an’ my sides an’ my arms… like it was… sensual or somethin’. And other things… other inappropriate things… like, like walkin’ in on me when I was changin’… most people, if they walked in on someone would have some sorta ‘oh fuck, sorry’ moment an’ leave, right? Not her. Never her. She’d just… just stand there and stare at me… she was always starin’ at me… like she was thinkin’ about things she wanted ta do ta me.”
Don shivered at the memories that came flooding back, remembering his embarrassment at being caught completely in the nude when she walked into his room – didn’t even fucking knock – and stood there and had a full blown conversation with him about how he was doing and what he was doing and how much she loved him… until he’d screamed at her to get the fuck out of his room and he slammed the door on her. Mac’s hand rubbed along his knee, soothing him as best as he could.
“I used ta have nightmares about her, Mac. It’s not… it’s not natural for someone to have nightmares about family members. Okay, maybe like, a random one here an’ there, but like clockwork, I’d have nightmares. An’ it was always the same… she’d be chasin’ after me, tryin’ ta touch me… an’ I’d be strugglin’ ta get away from her, an’ she’d always get me, in the end. She was the reason why I had anxiety attacks as a kid… an’ the older I got, the more I pulled away from her. To the point where, by the time I started on with the NYPD, I didn’t want anything ta do with her. I refused ta spend any time alone with her, because of how… dirty she’d make me feel.”
He’d run out of steam. There were other things that had happened, other ways she made him feel uncomfortable, but he just didn’t have the energy to voice it. He wished more than anything that he could just rest his forehead against Mac’s and transfer all his emotions over to the older man so he could tell exactly how that woman made him feel. But it wasn’t possible.
“When my Granddad died, I was… I was completely devastated. My Granddad was my hero an’ for the last three years of his life, he struggled. He’d had a series of bad strokes an’ it basically left him in a vegetable state… an’ ever since then, I’ve been… angry. ‘Cause my Granddad was the best, Mac. He was the best guy ever, an’ he was caring and selfless an’ yes might not have been completely healthy, but he took care of himself. An’ my aunt? She was always extremely overweight an’ didn’t take care of herself at all an’ ate whatever the hell she wanted and did whatever the hell she wanted an’ she never, not once had ta deal with the shit my Granddad did. And when he’d died and she didn’t? I was angry. I wished she had died instead of him. Every day I wished I could swap their places, just so I could see my Granddad one more time. That’s why, when my Ma called this mornin’ I wasn’t upset. I’m not upset. I don’t care that she’s dead, Mac. I don’t wanna go ta her funeral, I don’t want any part of her. ‘Cause she’s dead, and I’m finally, finally fuckin’ free from her torture,” he whispered.
He felt all the anger, the embarrassment, the humiliation and the anxiety leave his body as he admitted exactly how he felt about the person who unfortunately had been his aunt, and only an aunt by name. It was true what he’d said. He was free. He didn’t have to worry about her staring at him every time they were in the same room together, he didn’t have to worry about her calling him my looove or my daahling as though she was in love with him. He didn’t have to think anymore about how he used to hide in his closet and didn’t leave it until she had left when he was a kid, or about her figuring out where he lived and coming by for a surprise visit. He didn’t have to worry about any of it anymore. And it was so freeing. His family didn’t understand because nobody else experienced the things he had. And although his Ma had been helpful in getting his aunt to stop calling him baby all the God-Damned time, she too had started to say things like ‘but she’s been so good to you’ any time Don said he didn’t want to do whatever for his aunt.
“Don… look at me, please?”
Don looked over at Mac and sighed. Thankfully none of what he’d said seemed to have phased the older man in the slightest, and he was grateful. He was still the same person, after all.
“Thank you for sharing this with me. I know how hard it was for you to do that, and it means a lot that you trust me enough to tell me this. I also wanted to tell you that you have every right to feel the way you do. Every right. Nobody should make you feel like less of a person for not wanting someone as toxic as that in your life. You have integrity and that’s important,” Mac spoke softly.
Don nodded and moved to lean against Mac. Now that he had gotten all of that weight off his chest, he felt like he could relax and do the things he never thought he’d be able to. He’d always thought that his aunt had ruined the possibility of having a serious relationship with anyone. He’d thought he was damaged in some way by the things she had inflicted on him – knowingly too… it wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried to talk to her, tried to give her a chance to change. She just didn’t want to.
“Thanks fer listenin’ Mac. Will you stay, tonight? I don’t wanna be alone… in case the nightmares start back up again,” Don whispered.
Mac smiled and stroked his hand over Don’s hair. His heart ached for the younger man, the fact that he had to go through the things he did, but he was proud of him. It took a lot of courage to stand up for the things you knew were right… he was touched that Don had asked him to stay, and he knew he couldn’t say no. He wouldn’t want to, anyway.
“I’ll stay tonight… and for as long as you want me to,” He promised.
END
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