Summary: When Matt lets him down again, Danny starts doubting himself.
Rating/content: PG-13 for language, sappiness; spoilers for 1x18
A/N: Written for sd_ldws. The genre was flangst (fluff/angst), the prompt was "faith," and the word count was 200 exactly. Yeah, this is pretty sappy. >.>
Danny's still staring at the faded Springsteen posters on the wall when the door cracks open, light spilling in from the hallway. The bed dips, but he doesn't look over his shoulder.
"Don't get any ideas," says Danny. "This thing creaks like a son-of-a-bitch and my mother has freakishly good hearing."
Steve wraps his arms around Danny's middle. "How're you doing?"
"I feel like an idiot."
"You're not an idiot."
"I believed him," says Danny. "Believed him the first time, when he said he didn't do it. Believed him when he said he was gonna turn himself in. Believed him this time when he said he was gonna come back, finally, and plead guilty. Hired a fucking lawyer and everything. You'd think I'd've learned my lesson by now."
"He's your brother," Steve says, his voice rumbling under Danny's skin.
Danny stares straight ahead, at the names "Matt + Danny" carved into the wood paneling with a switchblade. "I keep waiting for him to walk through the front door and tell us he's sorry."
Steve presses his face to the back of Danny's neck. "Maybe he will."
Danny laces his fingers through Steve's and presses their hands against his chest. "Yeah...maybe."