Hello all. Been a while, hasn't it? I didn't realize how long until I logged in and saw the posting date on my last story, almost a year ago. Holy cow, life got in the way big time. Anyway, I thought I'd post the first part of something I'd been working on as a one-shot and see what happens. I may post more to it, I may not. I'm being all coy. This story was inspired by a scene in DIY Sheep's "The Contract", an excellent House MD. story, and I just gave it an Ocean's twist. Enjoy.

Rusty Ryan knew he was dreaming. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. For some odd reason, however, this dream was not only very vivid but was remarkably similar to his real life. He was cramped in the same dark cell, freezing cold, hurting like he'd never imagined, damp, shivering and filthy. The only light came from the moon shining somewhere above the tiny window in the ceiling. His captors had been especially vigorous today, and he was feeling the after-affects in every movement of sore and bruised muscles and every inhalation against what he suspected were cracked ribs, if not broken.

He didn't know for certain how much time had passed. He wasn't sure if anyone from his old life would recognize him now, and he ran a hand over his beard as a further reminder of how much this had changed him. Not able to do anything else at the moment he curled up in a ball on his side and tried to ignore the cold and attempted to move as little as possible to minimize the pain. This is some dream he thought to himself. Aren't you supposed to find some kind of escape when you live a crappy life? Even my dreams have turned crappy. He wasn't prepared for how low that thought made him feel, and not for the first time tears welled up in his two black eyes, making them sting even more. He didn't mind, since nobody could see him right now.

"Hi Rusty"

He jumped in alarm, hitting his head against the side of the cell. After cursing out loud he froze when he suddenly realized that he knew that voice. But it was impossible, it couldn't be him. Still, this was a dream, and something made him gradually turn until he could just make out in the dim light a very familiar figure sitting at the other side.

"Danny?"

By God, it was him; it was Danny Ocean, in this dark, locked cell in a God forsaken prison in the middle of nowhere. Considering how even Rusty didn't know where this cell was, this was rather startling. Danny was sitting very casually, considering the circumstances, wearing his trademark expensive suit and white crisp button down shirt, hair neatly combed, looking just as Rusty remembered him. For his part, Danny just looked back at him, calmly but with a tinge of sadness.

"Not sure I'm a fan of the Jim Morrison look." Danny said with the slightest grin.

Rusty couldn't help but chuckle. "You kidding? It's all the rage over here."

After the shock and surge of joy at seeing him passed, a feeling came over Rusty that he hadn't expected…shame. He averted his gaze, shrinking away from his friend by pushing into the wall and curling into himself.

"Rusty, it's just me" Danny reminded him.

This is a nightmare Rusty thought. What he said was "You shouldn't…you shouldn't see me like this."

After a sigh, Danny began to move closer to his friend. Rusty tensed up and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to non-verbally indicate that he did not want to be touched; but Danny was never one to take instruction, and he placed a hand on Rusty's shoulder, carefully so as not to hurt him. Rusty flinched at it, and that involuntary action made him feel more ashamed. It was purely instinctive after what the guards had done to him, but he didn't want to feel that way around Danny, even if it was a dream. Danny didn't seem to be angry, and instead closed the last remaining space between them, put his arms carefully and slowly around Rusty and drew the beaten man towards him, guiding his head to lie on his shoulder.

Oddly enough the first thought to come to Rusty's mind was that he would get Danny's shirt dirty. But then what was happening in this dream began to sink in. After so long alone and afraid he was being held by the person he loved most, comforted at one of his lowest moments. This is an escapehe realized, but it was an escape on a far more profound level than he would've thought possible. With that in mind he finally relaxed, pressing himself into that source of comfort, and before he knew it a shudder ran though him and a sob escaped his lips, causing Danny to tighten his hold.

"God, Danny, I'm sorry" Rusty choked out. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I'm not there. I'm sorry this happened."

"Shhhh" Danny replied, still keeping that calm demeanor. "You're cold." He slipped his suit jacket off and brought it around Rusty's thin shoulders. Then he cautiously started to rub his bruised arms and legs to provide heat. "Do you remember that girl we met a few years back with the new Seven Card Shuffle? I ran into her the other day."

So Rusty listened as Danny talked to him, telling him stories about the guys and Tess, throwing in the occasional joke to help take his mind off things. Rusty was feeling warmer and more content than he had in a long time. But soon it became obvious that the sob that had escaped earlier was a precursor. Tears began to run down his face, soaking through the button down shirt. Danny didn't mind.

"It hurts. Danny, it hurts."

"Shhhh, I know Rus. Just hang on to me" and he continued to hold his friend, and held him until the tears stopped and Rusty began to drift off listening to Danny's heart beat.

Rusty awoke in his cell alone, lying on the floor, once again freezing cold and in pain. In spite of that however, he felt a new found strength somewhere within him, and realized that while his mind didn't give him the escape he had hoped for, it did give him what he needed to get through this. Just hang on to me. And as he heard the boots approaching from down the hall and recoiled from the door in fear, he realized it came not a moment too soon.

Across the country, Danny awoke with a start. He had to sit up and look around to reassure himself that he was still in his hotel room. The dream he had…it felt so real…he could still feel that cold, stone floor beneath him.

He swung his legs over the side and sat for a moment while he processed everything he had dreamt, marveling at how happy and how sad it had made him. For a few hours he had his best friend back, even though Rusty was still imprisoned. He had seen Rus beaten and bloodied, freezing and filthy, thin as a rail; just as Danny couldn't help but imagine the condition he'd be in at the mercy of those bastards. Rus had even apologized to him, as if any of this was in any way remotely his fault. But in that cell, within that dream, Danny had offered what little comfort he could and had held Rusty while he wept and warmed him as he shivered.

Danny got to his feet and started getting dressed. He and Rueben were meeting with some people in a few hours they hoped could give them information. In the mean time Danny could pursue other leads.

Hang on Rus. I'm coming for you, I swear it.

There we go. Any thoughts? More? Let me know. And thanks so much for reading.