Three Days by InSilva
Disclaimer: no, no, Nanette, not mine.
Summary: "Body and Soul" verse one-shot. In which Danny learns a little about limits and fears. Rated for profanity.
He wasn't going to worry and he certainly wasn't going to freak out. Ridiculous to do either. And he could imagine the amusement if he did what he was about to do. But the thing was, it hadn't been one day. It hadn't been two days. It had been three days. Three days and he hadn't been able to speak to him. Three days and he hadn't been able to raise him. And so much could happen in three days.
There could be any number of things that could have happened, of course. Someone could have called with an opportunity that could not be passed up. Or maybe Annie had been cooking and had invited him back for Sunday lunch. Or possibly there had been a girl with a nice line in persuasion and a nicer line in living for the moment.
Still, it was three days. And if Rusty had taken off, he would have called, he would have told him, he would have let him know. Unless he was intent on testing him. Unless he was interested in finding out exactly how far to push him. Exactly how far the invisible strings would stretch.
And the answer to that was that they stretched to far less than three days. But three days was what Danny's pride would admit to.
Danny had disappeared to the Seattle meeting that Bobby had set up and he had stayed behind with the plans to the safe depository. He'd already spent less time sleeping and more time poring over the schematics than he'd admit to Danny although the looks Danny had been shooting him led him to believe Danny hadn't been fooled in the slightest. Of course that belief could have something to do with Danny sternly pulling the pencil from his hand and marching him off to the bedroom and insisting he get some sleep. Not that that had helped. He'd lain down in the dark and stared at the ceiling and little fine lines of an architect's handiwork had danced before his eyes.
Danny had frowned as he'd left him.
Just get some rest.
Just get going.
That had been earlier. And this was later. And the plans were still impenetrable and he was considering setting fire to them and seeing if he could read the answer in the ashes. His head was starting to ache with the effort of concentration and maybe, maybe, he did need a break. He could see Danny sitting opposite in the easy chair.
Maybe you're right.
You think?
I don't feel so great.
You don't look so great.
He smiled to himself and blinked again at the plans which looked blurrier than they had half an hour ago. He shivered suddenly.
Put the plans away, Rus. Go and run a bath.
Danny had a point. He left the paperwork where it was and headed for the bathroom.
The water ran and he added purple bubble bath and smiled and thought of Annie and Saul. His first home. His first place of sanctuary. He stripped and climbed in and let the water close over his body.
When he woke, the water was cold. By contrast, he was burning up. He blinked up at the light and then shut his eyes because it hurt.
Fuck. No.
He coughed and it hurt. It hurt his chest. And he sighed and coughed again and winced. He couldn't be sick. He could not be sick. Fuck. He needed to get out and he needed to get some medicine.
With an effort, he pulled the plug out and climbed out of the bath and somehow the journey to get dressed and head to the kitchen ended up on the bathroom floor. He lay shivering and he pulled a towel down over himself and he tried not to cough, he tried so hard not to cough because it hurt. It hurt.
Somewhere there was a phone ringing. And he thought he ought to answer it. But moving hurt. Coughing hurt. Breathing hurt.
He coughed so hard, he was going to… He was not going to hurl. He was not going to…
He scrambled to the edge of the bath and threw up then dropped down weakly on to the floor again.
Fuck.
Ignoring the scream of his muscles, he scrambled up to the bath tap. He ran the water and put his mouth to it and then slithered down to the floor. Oh, that surely hadn't been a good move.
He ought to move. He ought to try to move. He ought to think about trying to move. He lifted his head and the room swam and he closed his eyes and held on to the floor for dear life.
The ringing phone floated in and out of a world of shallow breathing and sharp bites of coughing and the light which hurt his eyes. He pulled the towel around himself and tried to make himself as small as possible.
The first thing Danny saw when he opened the door to the flat were the plans spread over the coffee table and he muttered imprecations to himself.
"Rus? Rusty?"
No answer and he swallowed in sudden fear in case someone had indeed come calling. He couldn't think who and he couldn't think how but if they had, if they had…
He checked the kitchen and the bedroom and then spotted the light on in the bathroom and pushed the door open and saw the huddled shape, surrounded by the smell of stale urine and of vomit. Danny would never quite remember how he got from the doorway to kneeling down and cradling Rusty, shivering in his arms.
"S'alright, I'm here, Rus."
Blue eyes creased with pain peered up at him.
"Danny?" It was breathed and there was hope and disbelief united in the name. And then Rusty disappeared into a bout of coughing that shuddered through him and Danny pulled the towel from him and scooped him up and took and deposited him on the bed.
"How long?" he asked as he lay him down and Rusty blinked at him as if he hadn't understood the question.
"How long have you been sick?" he clarified and Rusty started to give a shrug which disappeared into another bout of painful coughing.
Danny pressed his hand to Rusty's forehead. He felt warm to the touch although his body was still shaking and his teeth were chattering. He fetched a glass of water and Rusty drank greedily and a little more coherence appeared in his eyes. Danny took the glass away and pulled the covers over him.
"You need a doctor, Rus."
Rusty's hand shot out and gripped Danny's wrist.
"No doctors," he gasped and his eyes were very definite on this point.
"No argument, Rus." And Danny's eyes were just as clear.
"Just need some medicine."
"You just need not to be so stubborn."
He tucked him in and went to make a call as Rusty slid into a disturbed sleep.
"Where's the patient?"
The first doctor on call Danny had been able to reach introduced himself as Dr Alan Burton and headed no-nonsense like towards the bedroom Danny indicated, stopping only to ask for a glass of water.
Danny was running the tap when he heard the yell and he dropped the glass and ran.
Alan was rubbing his jaw with his left hand while his right had hold of Rusty's arm. But Danny didn't see any of that. Danny just saw the fear in Rusty's eyes and then they turned on him and there was a look that chilled him.
"He hit me!" Alan complained.
"Get away from him," Danny said, his eyes still on Rusty.
"He punched me!"
"I said get away from him." And his voice was quiet but menacing and Alan really ought to be listening to the tone.
"All I did was-"
"Get your hands off him!" Danny bellowed and this time Alan paid attention and dropped Rusty's arm and backed away.
"Jesus!"
Danny didn't hear him. Rusty was still looking at him, still focused on him and the terror was dying down a little now but it was still there.
"Danny…"
There was pleading and rawness and Danny climbed on to the bed and grabbed Rusty to him and felt the desperation in Rusty's answering grip. Time hung for a moment as Danny stroked Rusty's fevered face and he stared down at two blue eyes filled with questions...no, just one question…and Danny's mouth tightened.
At some point someone had looked in to those same blue eyes and seen trust and beauty and maybe even a hint of the magic and they had betrayed Rusty in the worst way. Not during Saul's time. Saul would never have allowed it to happen and besides, Danny had met Marty in Rusty's company and there had been no problem whatsoever there.
No. This belonged further back. In the dark time before Saul. In the time when Rusty had been on his own and vulnerable… more vulnerable than ever…sick, most probably and…and what? And the doctor had decided to conduct a little personal examination all of his own…
Danny's stomach turned.
"Rusty, it's OK. I'm here and no one is going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you, not while I'm here."
The question melted away and there was just the trust and the absolute. He pressed his lips to Rusty's forehead. Nothing – nothing – was ever going to take that trust, take that absolute away.
Leaning up against the wall, Alan gave an almost polite cough and Danny remembered they weren't alone.
"I'm sorry," he said to Alan. "He's always had a thing about doctors and I always thought it was just stubbornness. But it turns out he-"
"-has a thing about doctors?" Alan finished. "No shit."
The tone in Alan's voice suggested that he was as clear on what he thought about that as he was on what he thought about Danny and Rusty.
Rusty's fingers dug even deeper into Danny's arms and Danny pulled him closer.
"It's OK, Rus. I'm not leaving you." He looked over at Alan. "What do you need to do?"
"I need to examine him."
Danny…Danny…
His name was being screamed at him.
He kissed Rusty's forehead again.
It'll be OK. I'm not leaving you.
Danny nodded at Alan. "Let me help."
Temperature was taken.
"Not the mouth. No, not there either." A glare before Alan even suggested it. "Give me the thermometer. Under the arm, right?"
Lungs and heart were listened to.
"Look at me, Rus."
Trust me.
As the stethoscope played lightly over Rusty's back. As Alan's fingers rested even briefly on Rusty's skin. As the misery in Rusty's eyes killed Danny.
"Done," said Alan eventually. "Not quite pneumonia. But nasty. Here's some antibiotics." He dropped them on the table by the door. "Make sure he takes the full course."
Danny nodded. "Thanks."
He fished his wallet out and tossed it over. "Take whatever, please."
"Certainly will," Alan muttered and saw himself out.
Danny's full attention was back with Rusty.
"Let me just get you the pills, Rus," he murmured but Rusty burrowed himself further into Danny and Danny relented. "OK. Not just yet."
He lay down with him and held him close as Rusty drifted off into fevered sleep.
"I promise. I promise you, Rus, any time you need a doctor, really need a doctor, I will stay with you. I will never leave your side. You will never be on your own."
Danny had never been more certain of anything. Unless it was that he was never going to leave it for three days again.
A/N: The chapter of "Body and Soul" entitled "Hell" will explain why Rusty actually has a thing about doctors.
And what are you doing here? Go read "Chameleon". It is amazing beyond words.