oh, I feel so low from living high

Danny should be used to this by now, hearing about someone he knew just overdose. As of late, though, he was often donning a suit and standing outside in a graveyard after such news, not in a hospital cafeteria getting shit coffee. This one had hit home, this one had been Tango, and he still couldn't ignore the coldness that consumed him when Dom called. His nerves were still shot.

"Thanks," he told the cashier as he slipped his wallet back into his pocket. Grabbing the coffees, he slowly began to make his way down the hallways, passing the number of patient rooms for what felt like the hundredth time since last night. Danny realized how close he had gotten himself into this similar situation years ago, but instead of hard drugs, he had preferred to drown himself in alcohol. He let his anger rage and boil into violence until he was blindly lashing out at complete strangers, sometimes even those he cared about. Sometimes, he thought that horrid itch was returning, and he feared he would hurt someone again.

Blinking, he pinched the bridge of his nose to get the images of Iago so near death out of his mind, the way he had screamed for him to wake up, to hang on, hearing the blaring sirens of the ambulance...

'And you called me, so I don't wanna hear-' That was when he was walking back into Iago's room, immediately sensing that tension and the anger. Here we go. "Hey, man, you're awake," he interrupted casually. Danny handed Dom a coffee with a look of light warning before offering his own to Iago. Caffeine was a different kind of an addiction (a sane one), and might help ease his nerves just a bit. At least psychologically. "It's sludge here, but it'll do for now." He clapped a hand onto the man's shoulder in reassurance.

Dominic held a lot of his emotions in- it wasn't difficult to notice, so it was quite obviously a little tougher for him to deal with this. Because when the man let those emotions out, they exploded, and even Danny could see how worried he was for their comrade. At least, Dan dealt with this before. He had been there, in a sense.

Iago was still on edge, but he would come down from it in time, and see things a little more clearly. It just wasn't going to be easy. With a cant of his head, Danny gestured for Dom to leave. "Josh is wandering around here somewhere, should look for him." Let me handle this right now, he was silently telling him. Dominic drew in a deep breath, mumbled something under his breath before he was leaving the room.

He refrained from running a hand down his face, not wanting to prove how tired he was. A part of him wished he had a cup of coffee, even as shitty as the hospital stuff was, but he'd live. Iago had been on fluids for nearly a whole day by now, so he wasn't concerned about it affecting him. Sure, a nurse might have some words, but Danny knew that expecting an addict to go cold turkey was impossible. Iago was going to want to go back, and he might, so, it was a matter of monitoring, slowly weening off properly until he no longer craved it. Tell an addict that he couldn't have something, too, and he was going to want it even more. The process was exhausting, but he wasn't about to give up on him. Whether his bud wanted him to or not.

Danny didn't speak of any of this. Bringing up the obvious problem only increased the anger. So, instead, he drew that chair a little closer to the man's bedside and took a seat, finally letting out a tired sigh. "I never told you guys...why Liz really left me." His brother was aware, if only because he was the one that dealt with the aftermath of it. Iago and Dom knew the other details, but not the dark part of it. The part that made his blood run cold and the guilt eat away at him. "Fourty-seven-" he began. "Fourty-seven kills...confirmed ones, anyway. And I remember nearly all of them. Sometimes I swear I see one on the street, when I try to sleep. It's the burden we carry with what we've done." For the "good of the country" and all that bullshit. "I couldn't handle it. I struggled with coming back to normal life after so long out there. It was weird here, it felt wrong. Every little noise made me jump, every little slight made me angry..." Riv knew all of that, but he was repeating it anyway. "That anger grew and I couldn't contain it. I felt like I didn't belong here and that everyone knew it, everyone somehow knew what I had done. I wasn't a hero- to them, I was a murderer, a machine with a weapon that took orders. Hoo-fuckin'-rah."

Danny drew in a deep breath as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "I snapped. You know what happened, but...it wasn't just the time with the bank teller, it wasn't just the man in the fuckin' cereal aisle..." He was growing a little quiet now, hesitating. He's told his tale numerous times, but this part? No, he left this part out. "When...Liz told me she was leaving me, that she was cheating, that she didn't feel safe with me anymore..." His brow furrowed, and he rocked back in the chair, fidgeting when the memories came flooding back. "I lost all control, and...and I...hit her, Riv." Danny's voice cracked a little, his throat growing sore as he suppressed the tears. "Just once, but I did it. I fuckin' hit her as if all of it was her fault. I finally hit rock bottom, and it took me losing everything to realize I had to swim back to the surface. Because you know what?" Those watery blues rose up to his friend's face, his jaw clenching. "I wasn't the only one suffering. I wasn't the only one going through shit...and that helped me. Then I had to help those who couldn't help themselves because...how could I leave others to suffer? We're all brothers, and we need to depend upon each other."

His brother knew what he had to, and it was enough. But even if Josh knew every single detail, there was no telling how much he would understand, and that was something Danny was very grateful for. Not all of them left war unscathed, and it seemed like such a rarity these days.

Retelling this, though, was like stabbing his own heart with a hot blade. It stung like a son-of-a-bitch, it made his throat close up and he felt those tears at his eyes despite how much he refused to let them fall. The look upon his face was pure shame, as clear as day and there was no hiding or denying it. It was also fear for never being able to make up for it, and not just what had happened with Liz, just everything he’d ever done in general.

The war had broken him, and he wasn’t the only one. It was both a sadness and a comfort.

What Iago was going through would not be so easily resolved by Danny sharing his tale. No, this was a road that would be long and painful, but the point was...he wasn’t alone, and he never had to be.

’I still see his face. Right before it happens.’

Nodding slowly, he bowed his head a little in understanding. ”I know…” And he’d likely always see the kid’s face. What he had to do was not try to ignore it, not expect it to go away, but learn to live with it, grow from it, otherwise, it really would eat him alive.

’I’m suffering, and I need help.’

Danny reached out to gently grab Tango’s forearm. ”I just found a reason to go on, a better purpose. You can, too, man...I promise you. I know everything is shit right now and it seems impossible, but it’s not. And you’ve got us.”