Steve doesn't pick up immediately, which is probably a good thing. It at least means he wasn't sitting staring at his phone, waiting for it to ring, like Danny feels like he must do sometimes, the way he hops to, hoping for a case or something.
Not that he can blame the guy. He wouldn't want to be alone with his thoughts in Steve's situation, either, and Steve's brain is miserable enough without adding circuitous thinking and sinkholes, gluey impossible to avoid traps, opening up beyond those DANGER marked fences and guard dogs, the mines he puts down in a paranoid pattern. "Hey," he says, tucking the phone between cheek and shoulder so he can turn down the radio, other hand curling around the top of the steering wheel, black rubber still warm from the day's sun. "What are you up to?"
Maybe he shouldn't. Steve isn't a stop-gap. He's not a substitution, or someone who's just there and is around to keep Danny from going crazy with loneliness. It shouldn't be something anyone could look at and consider as an option.
But is it better or worse to just gravitate naturally towards Steve's house, to pick up the phone and call him, even knowing he'll see him in a few hours, anyway? Maybe he should cool it. Maybe he should give Steve some space.
Maybe he should stop thinking like he's back in junior high and call the guy if he feels like it. It's not like Steve won't tell him not to come if he's busy or doesn't feel like it; not like Danny would be crushed to hear it.
So he's calling, okay. No big deal. Just wondering, what Steve's up to, because he's a little leery of just showing up and heading into the house. Catherine's still on the island, and even if they aren't -- even if she knows, that's one awkward conversation he's not really sure he wants to have, just yet.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-23 04:47 pm (UTC)Not that he can blame the guy. He wouldn't want to be alone with his thoughts in Steve's situation, either, and Steve's brain is miserable enough without adding circuitous thinking and sinkholes, gluey impossible to avoid traps, opening up beyond those DANGER marked fences and guard dogs, the mines he puts down in a paranoid pattern. "Hey," he says, tucking the phone between cheek and shoulder so he can turn down the radio, other hand curling around the top of the steering wheel, black rubber still warm from the day's sun. "What are you up to?"
Maybe he shouldn't. Steve isn't a stop-gap. He's not a substitution, or someone who's just there and is around to keep Danny from going crazy with loneliness. It shouldn't be something anyone could look at and consider as an option.
But is it better or worse to just gravitate naturally towards Steve's house, to pick up the phone and call him, even knowing he'll see him in a few hours, anyway? Maybe he should cool it. Maybe he should give Steve some space.
Maybe he should stop thinking like he's back in junior high and call the guy if he feels like it. It's not like Steve won't tell him not to come if he's busy or doesn't feel like it; not like Danny would be crushed to hear it.
So he's calling, okay. No big deal. Just wondering, what Steve's up to, because he's a little leery of just showing up and heading into the house. Catherine's still on the island, and even if they aren't -- even if she knows, that's one awkward conversation he's not really sure he wants to have, just yet.
"I could use a beer. You want some company?"