Never feel what I saw

Danny at this point was becoming depressed and lonely, his heart was beating, but every breath felt like it took effort, funny how something that only never required even a mere thought, could suddenly require such effort in such a short amount of time, he could feel the broken fragments of his soul press into his vulnerable flesh, he could feel it bleed inwards slowly, the blood was poisoned with his sadness and the empty feeling he had become all too accustomed to. He was going downhill and he was ashamed to admit it, the pain, the blackness that was inside of him, the man who had ripped this hole inside of Danny, there was no way anyone could ever fix him, there was no way anybody could ever save him from himself. The nightmares often left him drowning in cold sweat and he would wake up screaming to the point even Henry slept through his screams and he was helpless to the inner demons, in which he was in a losing war against, he had no armor, no weapons and no backup, he felt as though he was on his own and he knew he was on his own because the weight that was crushing his soul, his chest and his shoulders, nobody could ever save him from that weight except himself, even his therapist told him that.

Danny was desperately trying everything, from books, to radio programs, to hypnosis to try and cope with the trauma, he felt as though he had been discarded at work and at home, nobody wanted to hear of his problems or his pain, no one seemed to even care anymore. So he withdrew slowly and quietly, he went home after three weeks, tired and drained. He felt as if there was a pulsating pain in him, beating and growing like a tumor and spreading inside of him, sucking away the life from him and leaving him all shriveled and brittle, like an outer shell ready to crack into a million pieces. He knew he was crumbling, his breakdowns in the bathroom, his increasing cravings and his nausea that constantly came to the surface, he felt a monster named Depression eating him alive and he was struggling to stay alive and he felt completely helpless to his circumstances around him. 

He was terrified of what would happen if he dared to try and to surrender all hope to the depression, but how can one win a war against one's inner demons without weapons. He hated himself and he hated his life. He could only sob loudly as Barba, Manning and Stone struggled to build a case for him