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The Beautiful Art of Going Insane:

Martin was wearing his socks. It was the first thing that popped into his head when he saw Martin hunched over bleeding. Martin was wearing his socks and bleeding to death, but Danny's focus was more or less on the socks. His head hurt. He was pretty sure he had a cut on it.

A fairly illogical part of his brain was pissed that Martin had just taken off like that and had caused Danny to smash his head against the window of his door. This was also the part of Danny's brain that was stuck on the fact that Martin was wearing his socks while Martin gurgled something that sounded suspiciously like Danny's name.

Perhaps it was shock, it was probably shock that made him sit there staring at Martin for what felt like an eternity. He'd toppled out of his passenger seat. He was pretty sure he'd shot one of the guys that had shot up the car.

He didn't even need to look over at Adisa to know that he was probably brain matter in the backseat. Danny wasn't focused on that though. Danny was focused on Martin and the fact that Martin was wearing his socks.

Danny was pretty sure no one would really notice that they were Danny's socks. Martin hadn't been able to find both of them this morning before he left Danny's apartment. He'd cursed and banged his fists around the place and blamed Danny for his missing clothes before he grabbed a pair of Danny's socks and put them on.

Danny had looked at him questioningly before sighing and going back to make the coffee. Danny's clothes were far better than anything Martin could put on anyway even if it was just his socks.

He of course wouldn't point this out to Martin who had been busy throwing on his tie, jacket and pants all at the same time. Martin was pretty late, which meant Danny was pretty late, but Danny couldn't really bring himself to care.

Martin had called him lazy and undedicated. This of course was said with the patent Martin Fitzgerald 'I'm so teasing you and I can't really be serious about anything' grin. Danny had just rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee.

He didn't care that he only had fifteen minutes to drink his coffee, take a shower, get dressed and get to the office before he was really late. He was already late as it was. Why not be really late? He had told Martin that he wasn't going to get any coffee if Martin kept talking to him like that. Martin had rolled his eyes and merely walked over to Danny and kissed him on the cheek.

'Liar'. He had said.

Martin had called him a liar and then stole his coffee. Danny had sighed and poured himself a new cup knowing that there really wasn't anything he could do about it. Martin had merely smiled a shit-eating grin as he continued to drink Danny's coffee. A few minutes later, Martin had gotten the call.

The call that would end up with Martin and Danny in the middle of the street, their car looking like Swiss cheese, a dead man in their backseat and Martin bleeding to death with Danny staring at him and thinking about his socks.

It seemed innocuous at the time. Jack had yelled a bit that Martin and Danny were both late and he was going to strangle the both of them no matter what the reason. Jack of course didn't know that Martin was smiling at a boxer clad Danny and moving his hand to make fun of Jack's incessant talking.

He also didn't know that ever since the whole incident with his brother Martin had been a constant fixture at Danny's apartment. Danny had had his reservations about it before. Martin had just broken up with Sam and as much as he wanted Martin, he couldn't do the rebound thing.

'This isn't a rebound thing, Danny. This is the really thing.'

It had sounded so sweet at the time and now, playing it back in his head as a million thoughts rushed through his head and it was raining harder than Danny ever remembered it raining, it still sounded sweet. And Danny knew if he ever got to here Martin say it again he'd tell him just how sweet it sounded to Danny.

Jack had then given Martin an address to an office building and Martin had told him that he'd be there. Danny sighed and walked into his bedroom hurriedly pulling out a suit to put on after he got in the shower. He had heard Martin come into the bedroom.

He remembered Martin kissing him, sweet and soft and on the lips and he remembered Martin telling him that he wanted pizza tonight because Chinese was making his stomach hurt. Danny had nodded and Martin had kissed him one last time before leaving to meet up with Jack. Danny had gone to work with a smile on his face.

He didn't see Martin practically all day. He saw bits and pieces of him. Invaded his personal space a few times just for fun, but they never got to sit down and have a real conversation.

They were too busy looking for Paige Hobson, which led to Adisa Teno which, led to some undercover rebel operation which led them here, in the cold pouring rain and Danny still couldn't get over the fact that Martin was wearing his socks. He wasn't sure what that meant. Wasn't sure it meant anything. Wasn't sure it was going to mean anything if Martin didn't live.

"I need an ambulance!" Danny screamed to no one in particular.

His brain finally wrapped around what was going on, though not fully. He was still in shock. He was still panicking inside. He still wasn't sure of himself, but Martin was dying and that was something he was sure of. He kept yelling for an ambulance as he ran to Martin's door and opened it.

He caught a quick glance of Adisa, definitely brain matter in the backseat. He opened the door, his brain not processing that that probably wasn't a good thing, but he couldn't help it. He had to be near Martin. Had to try and help Martin anyway he could. He unbuckled Martin's seatbelt, but didn't move him. He figured that probably was the worse thing he could do.

"Martin! Martin! Can you hear me?" Danny asked.

Martin's head lolled to look at him, his eyes glazed over, his skin pale from the blood loss. At least he didn't look gray. Danny had seen people so close to death that their skin looked gray.

Martin didn't look gray. Martin looked like Martin and if it wasn't from the steady flow of red from his chest and stomach Danny would have figured he was just tired.

"Danny..."

"Shh... don't talk. I think... I mean I'm sure someone had to have called the police. You can't just shot up a New York street and not have the police coming. It's going to be fine." Danny knew he was rambling, but Martin had always said that he liked Danny's rambling.

There had been times in the few weeks where they had been inseparable that Danny had been practicing for the bar exam on eight cups of coffee and had been rambling more than he would like.

'I think it's cute.' Martin had said and then proceeded to blush.

'Cute? Martin, men aren't cute. Men are manly, handsome, good looking, hot, but men aren't cute.'

'You're cute.' Martin had said teasingly.

'I'm cute huh. I always thought I was more ruggedly handsome.'

'In your dreams, Taylor. Your rambling is cute. Means your dedicated.'

"Is it raining..." Martin croaked.

It was an odd question, though Danny couldn't really comment considering he'd been thinking about socks when he first saw Martin.

"Um... sort of. Not really anymore. It's still kind of cold. Are you cold?" Danny asked.

"A little. Is Adisa..."

"Yeah, shhh though it's gonna be okay remember. You don't need to worry about anyone but you right now."

Danny had never been in this situation. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to act. Didn't know how to feel. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry so hard it hurt and his chest was aching and everything around him seemed so loud and bright and he couldn't really see any of it. He couldn't see it because all he was looking at was Martin at the moment.

He couldn't hear anything because all he was focused on was Martin's too shallow breathing and the way Martin looked so pale, but not gray. Being gray was a bad sign. Martin wasn't gray. He was just pale and cold, but not gray.

Danny felt like he was going crazy sitting there looking at Martin slip through his fingers. His thoughts were definitely crazy ones. He couldn't think properly.

Who thought of socks when someone they really cared about was dying?

Who shut down like that?

"Sir, you're going to have to move away from him so we can work on him."

Danny wasn't sure when the paramedics got there. He wasn't sure of much anymore. He couldn't really listen to the paramedic and wasn't even shocked when they physically moved him away from Martin.

They took him out of the car and laid him down on the ground, two others doing the same for Adisa and Danny sat with his knees pushed up to his chest watching them with wide eyes. They put pressure on Martin's wounds. The two that had gotten Adisa out of the car went to get a body bag.

"Hey, you, come on snap out of it. I need your help." Danny looked up at the paramedic trying to get his attention.

"Can you keep pressure on his wounds while I go get a board?" The guy asked. Danny felt himself nod numbly.

"Great." The paramedic said as Danny crawled over to Martin.

"Just hold these down as tight as you can. Whatever you do, don't move your hands. I'll be right back." The paramedic said as he got up and ran back to the ambulance.

Danny looked down at Martin. His eyes were halfway closed and his mouth was slack open and he still wasn't gray, but that didn't mean he looked great.

"I'm wearing your socks." Danny had to strain himself to hear Martin's weak whisper.

He laughed. He laughed hysterically his laughter turning into tears without his acknowledgement.

"Life's a bitch ain't it, Fitzie." Danny said through his tears.

"I don't know... she brought me you." Martin whispered his voice lower than before.

Danny could feel himself crying more. Couldn't help it when Martin's eyes closed and his hands pressed tighter on his wounds. Couldn't help but curse everything he knew because Martin was laying in some street bleeding to death and Danny, at most, had a gash on his head.

Couldn't help it that his heart swelled at Martin's words because even dying Martin could still be a sweet talker, something that had amazed Danny to no end because Martin was quiet and shy and not a talker and he blushed and he didn't use cheesy pick up lines.

Because Martin was Mister Do the Right Thing and wanted to really make a difference in the world and he didn't have a tortured past and he hadn't done things he would look back on and cringe at. Martin didn't deserve to be on the street dying. Martin deserved to be someplace warm and comforting and Danny cried just a little bit more at the thought.

He couldn't help feel like this was punishment. It wasn't fair. Life was a bitch. Life had only done a few good things for him and one of those things was lying on his back in the cold.

It wasn't fair that the morning could be so perfect bringing it's new hope and everlasting promises and by night they could be crushed into a million pieces.

It wasn't fair that life could be so twisted that it could make a person insane from the mere thought of living it. Life just wasn't fair and it hadn't been fair to Danny in such a long time that it almost felt like something was out to get him.

Danny hung his head as shaking sobs racked through his body.

"She's gonna bring you back to me, Fitzie. She owes me one." Danny whispered.

Danny wasn't sure she would, but if she didn't she might as well take Danny as well because living in a world where Martin couldn't steal his socks just wasn't his idea of a world.

It was his idea of hell.

FIN

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